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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Most people dread Mondays at work, but I have to admit that I’ve come to enjoy the end of my weekend. No, more than that, I look forward to walking in to work bright and early on Monday mornings with a big fucking smile on my face.
It wasn’t always that way. There was a time when I was like every other cog in the wheel, looking toward Monday as if I were facing the hangman’s noose once again. The fun was over and I was willingly putting my nose to the grindstone to survive.
Then I had an experience I’ll never forget. It not only changed up my routine at work, it changed me. Hell, it changed my entire outlook on life and work in a cut-throat and corporate world.
I was the janitor of a medium-sized company. My job was to keep the place pristine without getting noticed or seen by either the management or the office drones. For the most part, I performed my tasks with efficiency and care. Of course, when you’re wearing blue coveralls, anyone in a suit or business attire seems to view you as invisible, so that helps.
My routine was simple. I started on the first floor of a ten-story building. Mondays were floors 1-3. Tuesdays 4-6. Wednesdays 7-9. Thursdays were floor 10, and only floor 10, as that was the private office suite for the owner of the company, Mrs. Amalia Hunnings—a 45-year-old, never missed out on something she wanted, go-getter nicknamed “Cuntings” by her employees. The cruel nickname had never seemed deserved to me, but then again, I rarely interacted with her at that point.
Friday was my day to play catch up on any tasks I missed earlier in the week, but it was, for the most part, getting paid to sit in the basement janitor’s office and play games on my phone before rushing through in the last two hours of the shift to empty the trash on each floor.
Mondays start, and end, on the 10th floor now.
Friday’s supposed to be my lazy day, but on one particularly cold day in December, I called out on a Thursday to attend a friend’s birthday party, which meant Friday was playing catch up in the boss’s suite instead of video games.
Still, my day began like any other, I arrived as most of the office was coming back from lunch. Gathering my normal Friday trash went along without a hitch, it always took me about two hours to get from the first to the 9th floor for that, most of which was waiting for the elevator so I could wheel my cart to the next floor. It had been a busy week and by the time I made it to the ninth floor, four hours had passed.
Mrs. Hunnings was usually around until 6PM, so it was fortuitous that it took me longer to make it up to her office. While I could clean around her it was easier when she wasn’t in and she knew it. She made most of her outside appointments on Thursdays to get out of my way and I found that to be a generous gesture most bosses wouldn’t even consider for someone as low on the totem pole as I was.
I was the only janitor on staff. Mrs. Hunnings expected her employees to keep their desk spaces clean on their own and would chide them if they left spills or messes behind for me to clean up. My job was to clean inside windows and windowsills, clean glass doors and handles, vacuum between desks, dust common areas, change out water coolers, empty trash, clean bathrooms, and restock supplies as needed. Each floor took me about two-and-a-half hours on average, though that was going at a leisurely pace.
On that particular day, I took a break after finishing the trash round-up as I hadn’t seen Mrs. Hunnings leave. I figured I’d give her time to make herself scarce before I headed up to finish my work in her office. I sat in the basement and ate a sandwich, had a soda and a bag of chips while watching the security monitors on a nearby wall. The main lights in the building went out, which was often the last thing Mrs. Hunnings did on her way out. The backup lights were more than enough for me to see by to finish up my job and the office was on it’s own lighting system so I could turn that floor on as needed. I washed my hands then gathered the special cart I used only for the boss’s office.
With my earbuds blasting, I put the key in the elevator and rode up to the tenth floor. One of the little things that made my job go faster was playing some music then dancing and singing along to the songs. Thinking I was alone in the office, I went to town, belting, of all things, “Whore.” by In This Moment. And, yeah, I was, unfortunately, in that moment getting my bitch on with my dance as I moved. Playing it up theatrically in a way a proud man would never if other people, especially distinguished people, were around. There are so many songs about sex I would embrace getting caught singing and dancing to. A 6′ 5″ built guy singing about being someone’s femme whore with gusto and emphasis on the whore part?
Not my idea of a good time. It was a private piece of fun I never intended to share with anyone.
I was so caught up in my own head, that I did not stop dancing and singing as I opened the glass door ulus escort and backed into the office, doing a quick drop squat before lifting back up and rolling my hips and back with ease. Then I turned around.
Oh, god, I turned around.
She had a bottle of wine on her desk and was having a video conference with someone. I startled her and she quickly buttoned up her shirt and closed her laptop in a swift move of her hand as I yanked my earbuds out.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hunnings, I’m here to clean the room, you’re not usually in at this time!” I stammered. My face felt like it was on fire. How much had she seen? Oh, fuck, how much had she heard?
I started to rush from the room but she yelled after me, “Liam! I’m not gonna stop you from doing your job, you work for me for Christ’s sake.” A laugh escaped her as she refastened her top and adjusted her suit. With a quick glance, I caught that her cheeks were as flushed as mine felt. From the wine or her own embarrassment, I wasn’t sure.
When she sat back down at the desk, choosing not to address my disastrous entrance into her private space, I backed out of the room and began berating myself for not being aware of my surroundings. Then, I went to work. Carefully cleaning the glass windows along the hallway by the elevator as she worked to reconnect her lost call.
I went into her office and moved into the bathroom with haste, ignoring whatever was going on with her call. I just wanted to stay out of her way and save enough of my pride to be able to turn in a notice slip instead of simply never showing up to work again. There were loud voices coming from the other room, but her office was so well insulated the words muffled and I couldn’t make them out. As I cleaned the sink, I noticed that it became eerily quiet in the other room. I peeked out from the bathroom door. It was dark, no computer light, no soft lamp beside her desk. It looked as though she had gone. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my job, praying she would be so embarrassed about getting caught with her top undone that she would forget all about my own embarrassment and I wouldn’t have to quit. It paid well and it was relatively easy.
Her bathroom was the only bathroom in the building that I had to clean with an all-natural lemon-based cleaner for all surfaces. I loved cleaning it because that fresh smell lingered and it was much nicer than the harsh cheap shit I used in the other bathrooms. There was a shower, a toilet, and a sink, as well as a large soaking tub. The luxuries of being the owner of the company, I guess.
I got back to work scrubbing, everything stayed pristine and, though I slacked in other areas from time to time, when it came to my boss’s office, I went all out and took my time cleaning walls and fixtures with a meticulous eye. The hope was any lingering messes in the main bathrooms would track back to the employees being messy rather than me cutting corners.
The old towels got tossed into the laundry bag on the cart and I pulled fresh ones from the bottom shelf, hanging them with exact space between them on the warming racks.
With the silence and darkness still enduring in the main room of her office, I resumed singing and dancing while scrubbing the toilet and wiping down all of the curves on the brilliant white porcelain. With the water swirling down the drain, the urge to piss came over me. Another glance into the main room suggested the coast was clear, so I turned back around, closed the door, and took a piss in the boss’s private restroom. No one would know.
It felt so good to relieve my bladder and after an obligatory shake, I turned around, cock still in hand to see my boss standing in the restroom doorway.
I must’ve turned about six shades of red. I pulled the headphones from my ears again and stammered, “I—thought—I’m sorry, I had to go too bad to run to another bathroom. Please don’t fire me.”
She smirked. God, that smirk could’ve cut a man in half and had him begging her to do it again. She was a stunning woman with a very inviting figure. Tall with these picturesque hourglass curves of large breasts, firm rounded ass, and wide-set hips with a slim waist.
My existence was usually background noise to the other employees, so I know of at least a dozen men in the office who wanked one out on their lunch break pretending to cum on her face and tits. I had to clean that shit up, so I was not impressed with the altitude or force of splatter with which they let go toward their photos or imaginary images of “Mrs. Cuntings.”
On top of her stunning beauty, she was confident. She fought her way to power and success and I had no doubt there were many emasculated men lying on the side of the path she took to stand where she did. She was as terrifying as she was awe-inducing.
She smiled at me, “Your name is Liam, right? I wasn’t wrong, was I?” Her voice was soft. I’d never heard her use that tone before and I’m still not sure yenimahalle escort if it intrigued me or terrified me.
I nodded and she continued, “Liam, I received word from my husband that he is leaving me for my, now very fired, secretary. My secretary, not his. My perfect, bubbly, girl-next-door secretary. I would very much like to thank you for interrupting my rendezvous with that distracting show and allowing me to see the cunt rise up from under his desk when I reconnected our call. So, now I want to fuck someone younger and firmer, too.”
Her gaze lowered over my body and I realized I still held my flaccid cock in my hand, but could not move to put it away. She smiled and lifted her eyes back to mine.
I gulped and asked, “Am I’m fired?”
She laughed, a genuine laugh, where her lips curled into a smile and her eyes wrinkled at the corner. I had never heard her laugh like that before. “No, when I say I want to fuck someone, I mean I want someone to… How did that song you were singing go? Have me down on my knees and begging for more?”
“It’s a blowjob reference,” I blurted.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
My head tipped to the side and my mind went blank. Wha? “I’m not fired?”
“You’re not fired.” She stepped closer and my eyes closed as her hand lay against my chest, “I don’t want to fuck you over, Liam. You’ve done me a favor and I’d like to reward you for that. May I?” She knelt in front of me and brought her hands down the front of my uniform.
How many times had I cleaned up in this building after guys making three times what I did who only fantasized about the image of her on her knees in front of them?
I nodded.
She pulled at the coveralls, undoing the silver snaps going up the front and revealing my regular clothes beneath. She pulled the uniform and I tugged them off in a hurry, pulling my shoes off to get the disgusting uniform off me. Mrs. Hunnings took my cock between her lips, not hesitating over the faint drips of piss that still clung to the tip.
She had skills.
Her tongue alone almost brought me to my knees, add in the way her hand cupped my balls and her throat opening to squeeze the head of my dick as she lifted and bobbed her head and it took all I had to not grab the back of her head and turn her generous blowjob into a face fucking. Her fingertips on one hand fumbled with the buttons of her top. Her lips didn’t pull away from my cock for even a second. The gentle tease of her fingertips over my sack as it mimicked the motion of her hand working its way down the buttons of her blouse threatened to make me cum prematurely.
It was all I could do to hold myself up. I braced myself on the sink and the towel bar as she took me into her throat. Wet gagging sounds filled the room and my boss began moving her head with her lips loosely over my shaft. Her shirt fell off in a quick motion and I stared at the beautiful mounds of flesh restrained by her pink lace bra.
My heart raced and she attempted to smile with her own saliva dripping down her chin as her eyes lifted to mine. It was the look in her eyes that made me grab the back of her head and hold her down on me as my dick twitched and threatened to release, “Fuck,” I whispered as my hands tangled in her thick, luscious blonde curls and I pulled her off of me.
She was an incredibly powerful, disgustingly rich woman and here she was on her knees in front of a 22-year-old janitor. How in the fuck was she sucking me off in her private bathroom instead of deep throating some equally rich hotshot stud? Hell, I’d wager her husband had a few friends who’d kill to have her do nothing more than touch their dicks with a fucking fingertip.
I don’t know why I got brave, exactly, but I know I closed my eyes and savored the feel of her tongue curling under the head of my cock. She pulled herself from my dick and moved her lips beneath it as she sucked each of my balls into her mouth. When I opened my eyes again, I had my hands on her head and my dick was back between her lips. The intense warmth of her mouth on my aching member was almost painful as I resisted the building desire to spray her throat with my cum. My grip tightened and my hips began to thrust toward her lips as I pulled her mouth down onto me.
She curled her fingernails into my hips and I started to let up on her a little, but she continued the rougher throat fucking with her own movements and I groaned, “Oh God.”
The audible slop of gagging and swallowing as she bobbed on me, a thick coating of spit shining under the soft lighting of her bathroom and the veins in my cock pulsing as she tightened her lips along my shaft was bordering on too intense for me. My back trembled as I thought about every unsexy thing I could imagine to try and maintain control of myself. I rubbed the back of her neck and started to pull her away from me but she wouldn’t budge, “Mrs. Hunnings, I’m going to cum,” I gasped.
She stopped for a moment, tunalı escort pulling her mouth from my dick and looking up at me. Her gaze connected with mine and that fucking smirk was an impossible expression to mistake. With a swipe of her hand, she removed the spit gathering on her lips then took me back between her lips. She bobbed her head faster and tightened her mouth on me as she rubbed under my sack, along the skin between my ass and balls. I pushed my hips toward her, my hands rested firmly on the back of her head, holding her down on me while my cock tightened and twitched. The force of her head pushing my hands against the edge of her sink hurt, but it was such a fucking good hurt.
She moaned as I let loose a thick load of cum, not letting her pull away until my balls stopped pulsing. I pulled back and she coughed then swallowed, daintily wiping the corners of her lips of any rogue streams of my cum. I was certain she was a tigress about to pounce on me and rip me the fuck apart and I was perfectly fine with that.
But, she looked up at me and her expression took me aback. There was a genuine innocence there. She did not look like the powerful woman I knew her to be. She was blushing and having a hard time keeping eye contact without the faintest smile turning the corners of her lips upwards. She was… Embarrassed? Aroused? Both?
I stroked her cheek and she leaned into my palm. My courage to push forward rose and I finished pulling my clothes off then knelt down in front of her and kissed her lips. She hesitated momentarily, her hand stiffened against my chest, but it only took a second for her tongue to accept mine as I tangled myself around hers.
Our lips parted with heavy breaths from each of us, “You don’t have to romance me,” she said with a bashful grin.
“Mrs. Hunnings—”
“Amalia,” she said, interrupting me.
“Amalia,” I blushed as I said it. The familiarity of using her given name seemed disrespectful on some level. “I’m not trying to romance you. If I were, the kiss would’ve preceded the blowjob at the very least.”
She laughed lightly, that genuine and soft laugh made her cheeks light up and her eyes wrinkle at the corners.
The sudden hesitation and stiffening in her body as my hand caressed her cheek and my lips connected with hers, made it seem as though reason might be working its way into her mind. Her thinking better of it before I got a chance to fuck her was not where I wanted things to go. My kiss was gentle, closed lips to hers, her hand on my cheek as my tongue slid across her lower lip, my hand on her, rubbing the curve between her shoulder and neck as I guided her down to the bathroom floor.
The softness of her skin beneath my lips brought a flush to my cheeks. My lips lingered on her jaw, over her neck, along the tops of her breasts, which heaved in the delicate lace confining the lower swell of her. I opened the tiny clasp at the front of her bra and released her buxom chest to my gaze.
Her body was her own. I saw no signs of surgical improvements or fillers. The corners of her lips and eyes held soft wrinkles, as did her forehead and the center of her cleavage. Her breasts were heavy and soft in my hand, they flattened slightly as she lay on her back, spilling to the sides beyond my grasp.
There was a glance away from me as my eyes took in her body. Was she ashamed of her body? Of showing her body to someone so lesser? My lips closed over her nipple and I sucked part of her breast into my mouth as my hand slid along the curve of her waist and over her hip. The peaked nipple was prominent as I pulled away and I smiled at her before moving to her other breast, biting gently as she moaned.
Her eyes closed and I unfastened her pants—a side hook and zipper came undone with ease. I could’ve undressed her, but I didn’t, at least, not in that moment. She’d gotten me off once already and I needed a little time to recover before we continued, and I wanted to continue.
My hand slid into her unfastened pants and grazed over her silky panties. She swallowed hard and I brought my lips back down to hers, guiding her into a kiss to distract her a little as my fingers slipped beneath her clothes. I could’ve roughly fingered her and pushed her toward a quick orgasm with little effort, but I didn’t want to do that. Any guy could do that at any moment she wanted them to.
Instead, my fingertips lay on her mound, caressing the thick triangle of hair while my tongue caressed hers. My hand moved lower, rubbing along her outer labia, a gentle massage of her without seeming so eager to get her going. I opened my eyes as our lips parted, she began to bite her lower lip, her head tilted as she looked me over.
“Amalia,” I said as my fingertips caressed her, “can we go into your office?”
She nodded. I knelt beside her, myself fully naked as I helped her stand. She pulled her pants off, leaving them on the floor in a heap with her bra and blouse. I don’t think I realized until then that she hadn’t been wearing her shoes.
Her firm, rounded ass swayed, pulling on the snug, pink lace panties hugging her hips and showcasing the lower swell of her ass cheeks with each swish of her hips. She looked over her shoulder at me and encouraged me to follow her back out into her office by curling her fingers into mine and tugging me.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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