Confessions of a Lewd Janitor

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Hi there! My name is…well, I probably should at least keep some things about myself a secret during this if I still want to keep my job this same time tomorrow. It doesn’t really matter much whether or not you know my name for this anyway, especially seeing as it won’t change any of the lurid details that I know you’re just dying to find out~

Before we start things off proper, I suppose I can at least let you know that I’m female, 40 years young, single (and loving it!), and for the past five years, I have been employed as a night-shift janitor at a local private college, a fairly esteemed one too, though it will also go unnamed in the interest of protecting the innocent and the less innocent.

Now, I know you may be thinking that I might be getting a bit on in years, but believe me when I say I’m still just as sprightly as I was twenty years ago to the day, and I’ve yet to find even a single grey hair in my bouncy brunette curls! I admit I may be getting a little plump here and there (especially in the thigh and backside regions) but trust me, darling, that it’s just enough in all the right places~

My uniform, if that’s the right word for it, consists of a single blue, boilersuit that covers everything from the neck downwards bar my hands and feet, though for the former I will don a pair of marigolds for anything especially grubby that I’m not too keen on touching with my bare fingers if I can help it, and the latter are always kept within a pair of steel-capped boots (safety first!) that add a few extra centimeters to my average height. Aside from those, I also keep a white kerchief banded about my head to avoid having any hair fall over my face when I’m in the middle of something that requires both hands and unhindered eyesight, plus it doesn’t hurt that it also helps keeps most dust from out my locks. The ensemble ain’t exactly Gucci but, hey, it does what it needs to fine enough.

As for the college where I work itself, it’s a very old-fashioned building first built all the way back at the turn of the 20th century I think, and in that entire time, not a single surveillance camera has been put in anywhere on campus. Never really bothered to ask why that was, and I’d rather not put the idea into the faculty’s head about it just in case, though I have a hunch that in a neighbourhood as boring as the one its in, they would probably just be seen as an unneeded expense to install and maintain, as well probably mar the vintage architecture they’re so proud of. Hey, it’s the best reason I could come up with anyway! In the half-decade that I’ve been working here, I’ve never so much as even heard of a break-in, or anything illicit happening on the grounds for that matter (at least nothing that anybody has been caught for), so you have to admit my theory holds at least a little bit of water, right?

It’s a decently-sized building too, with three-floors (including the ground floor) plus a basement filled with plenty of facilities for all manner of subjects to be taught and studied ranging from science to sports, but in spite of its bulk, a grand total of only two caretakers are employed here: one who manages things during the day, and myself who works the evening shift. I have a sneaky suspicion that keeping the absolute bare minimum of staff on their payroll is another cost-cutting measure to keep their profits as high as possible (and only reinforcing my speculations about the lack of CCTV), though that being said, it is very low-maintenance work for what it is and for what I earn, at least on my side of things, which I suppose is part in thanks to private college kids tending to be less rowdy on the whole compared to students at public colleges, and don’t let it ever be said either that I don’t finish up everything that needs done by the time my hours are up…which is certainly more than I can say for you, Bert!

Ahem! Anyway, my shifts always start at six o’clock in the afternoon on the dot, just after when all the faculty and any students staying later than normal have finally left campus for the day. Sometimes I end up arriving a tad early, though I’ve never been any more than five minutes late to start my shift. I head to the caretaker’s annex just behind the building and meet with Bert, who I should mention is the daytime janitor. Though he’s free to head home as soon as I show face, he always insists sitting me down over one last cuppa and a chat over what he’s been going on recently both in and out of work. Ah, poor Bert, you seem like a nice enough fellah, but God you’re boring, and I’m too polite to tell you to shut the hell up! Eventually, after about half-an-hour on a good day, Bert finally remembers to tell me about any priority jobs that need doing before the morning (which, more often than not, end up being things he could have easily had the time to do himself had he not taken that umpteenth tea break) before handing over the proverbial keys to the kingdom and saying “ta-ta!” until the same time next working bursa escort day.

With Bert gone, I’m left as the only person on campus from now until the wee hours of the morning. It’s a bit of an eerie feeling, I admit, being the single living soul in a building as large as the college, especially when it’s as silent as the grave save for my footsteps echoing down the corridors, but you get used to it for the most part after a few weeks. I usually start the evening off by choosing a classroom – or several – at pure random on the ground floor to get things underway. I step into the room (no doubt wearing a stupid smirk all the while), bringing with me my dusters, cloths and vacuums, and don’t bother closing the door behind before beginning to unbutton my boilersuit starting from the collar, working my way down all the way to the crotch. Yup. You heard me right, though you could probably already tell if you read the title!

You see, I’ve got a major, and I mean major, kink when it comes to being naughty in places where I shouldn’t be~ Have so for pretty much as long as naughty things in general have interested me! I don’t think you could quite call me an exhibitionist though, since that would imply I enjoy doing naughty things directly in front of others while they watch. No, it’s more so the thrill at the possibility of being caught which excites me more than actually being caught if that makes any sense, though that has also certainly happened to me before on a couple of occasions back when I was younger and far less experienced. Doing such things at the college after everybody else has already gone home and where the closest thing they have to a night watchperson is myself may not be the riskiest place in the world to do what I do, and I’ve certainly done far riskier places in my time, but it still does the trick for me plenty enough even after almost every night for five years straight! Honestly, the wages are just a bonus at this stage, and I didn’t even learn about their lax security situation until after I was already hired. Not bad in the slightest, eh?

Well, back to what you’re really here for. Once the entire front of my overalls has been unfastened, I sharply yank them wide open to flash my puppies and privates to nobody, unless it’s on the extremely off-chance that somebody just so happens to be glancing in through the exact window of the exact room I’m in with a pair of binoculars from the high-rises several streets over! Oh, that’s right, I forgot to mention this until now, but as you can probably guess, I prefer to wear absolutely nothing underneath my work clothes~ I could lie and say it’s because it means less faffing about taking any extra layers off otherwise, but seeing as my shame has long since been thrown out, I can admit with full confidence that it’s simply because I find it all the more erotic~ In fact, the same thing applies for when I’m in my casual clothes as well, and when I’m at home, I just forego clothing altogether unless I’m having company over or have to answer the door! I would join a naturist resort, but they’d just kick me out for staring~

With my lack of modesty on full flaunt, the next thing I do is climb onto the frontmost desk – often the one where the lecturer sits during class hours – squat down and spread my thighs as far apart as I’m able to manage without losing my balance, perching like some sort of perverted gargoyle before my right hand then shoots to my groin without any further delay to start fiddling with my bean, with the other equally quick to cradle the closest of my exposed boobs (Triple-D cups in case you were curious) afterwards. I then look forwards out onto the entirety of the empty room and proceed to picture how it might be during the day, with each chair by each desk having a student sat upon it, and I can’t help but to break out into goosepimples! At that same moment, with my libido having gone from (almost) naught to a hundred in mere seconds, I slide my two longest digits lower down my muff and immediately plug them both up into my sopping pussy without any problem, a moan always managing to at least partially escape from my voice box when I do, but it gets muffled when the sound meets my mouth closed tight by my habitual lip chewing whenever I’m excited, and all that is before I even start imagining what types of reactions the students might have if I were to do this exact same thing in the middle of a lesson!

I visualise the likely looks of shock and confusion that I would receive, but my fancy focuses on the one or two expressions belonging to those who would very much like what they see: a couple of young cuties fresh out of secondary school, or at least that’s what’s in my mind’s eye! And with those thoughts as fuel for my horny fire, I begin my self-servicing properly, sliding my fingers back and forth inside my cunt, spicing things up with frequent twists and curls, but never fully removing them for anything until the deed is completely done. I’m not one bursa escort bayan to hum and haw. so my masturbation starts off fast, and only gets faster the longer I keep at it, though any specific amount of time which passes by is completely lost on me, but with my mind concentrated on more interesting matters in the moment, can you really blame me~?

While this is going on, the digits on my other hand squeeze tight into my tit and begin massaging it against my chest, contributing to the delight. In the heat of the moment, I do tend to end up being a bit rough in my kneads in a way that I imagine most other women would find disagreeable, but for little old moi, that’s just how I prefer it~ Not too long after I start to fondle myself, my jaw hangs open and an uncontrollable outpouring of thrilled groans that even a porn actress would accuse of exaggeration are let loose from my mouth, reverberating across the entire room, and even echoing out into and down the corridor a little to be heard by no one. Even in the comfort of my own home, I have to restrain my pleasured noises during self-service sessions to avoid complaints from the neighbours through their paper-thin walls, so you can imagine how insanely therapeutic it must be for me to have such a big, empty building all to myself nearly every night where I’m free to make as much of a racket as I please~

Saying that though, my sounds are soon suppressed anyway when I then lift my boob upwards and crane my neck downwards for my lips to meet my erect teat, managing to suckle on myself while also rapidly flicking and rolling the tip of my tongue against the stiff nub, with the vibrations made from my moans being muffled into the tender flesh of my pillowy jug only quickening my first climax of the evening down below. My mind is muddled with stimulation coming at me from several sides, but still I try to keep my musings clear in my mind as my fingers go into overdrive pummeling my cunt without me even realising until I feel the tingling rush of euphoria wash over my body from the muff upwards by an orgasm better than what any sex could provide, my head jolting away from my udder with such abrupt reflex as to send some droplets of saliva slobbered over my nipple flying through the air as they’re flicked from my lips in time for me to let out a blissful cry loud enough to likely be heard not only in the rooms next door, but also those directly above and below if anybody were around to hear them.

I bury my digits in as deep into my gash as they could possibly go and curl them to firmly press down on my sweet spot within while those on my other hand return to clenching fast into my malleable melon, my delight far too great to pay even the slightest amount of attention towards any pain I may inadvertently be causing for my chest as I do, as every muscle in my body tenses up for the entire duration that I cum, probably making that earlier gargoyle analogy all the more apt from how still as a statue I suddenly become save for the periodic convulsions I make with each following pulse of pleasure I feel. I can’t even begin to imagine how stupid of a smile must be plastered over my fizzog as I undergo the level of bodily ecstasy that I do, though perhaps I should try somehow taking a picture one of these days of posterity’s sake!

A few seconds later and my climax is curtly concluded, my tendons going lax once again as I have to take extra care I don’t topple off the desk and onto my head as I lull into post-orgasm relaxation. With some heavy sighing and already sweating, I finally remove my digits from out my pounded meat-passage to run them along my lips and tongue until they are cleaned free of my salty sap: an acquired taste that I have developed quite the palate for over the years~ Of course, I do end up spritzing quite a bit of pussy juice over the desk, but it’s nothing that a little spray of sanitiser and a quick wipe can’t do to make nobody any the wiser short of a forensics officer~

Speaking of which, after I’ve so thoroughly satisfied myself – for the moment being anyway – I finally crack on with the work I’m actually being paid to do: I make sure the floor is thoroughly swept, each table is polished, the windows are sparkling, and the tops of the cabinets are dusted even if nobody is going to see them. Once the room is spotless from top to bottom for those making use of it come tomorrow, I collect my equipment before moving onto the next to do the same thing all over again. Hey, I said it was low-maintenance, but I didn’t say it wasn’t repetitive.

Whenever I’m feeling lazy however (which is more often than not), I don’t bother buttoning my overalls back up in the slightest and just let my boobs hang and bounce freely while I’m moving along the vacant corridors, especially if I’m feeling particularly randy that night and decide I could do with a few extra orgasms on another few desks~ Even if that ends up not being the case, I’m still constantly twiddling with my clit escort bursa while walking just as a way to keep my exhilaration kindled while en route to the scene of my second salacious act, although with the way that I cannot help but think of how these hallways are bustling during the day and how my heart races with the irrational half-expectation of somebody suddenly appearing from around the corner to catch me with both tits and pussy on full, unashamed display.

Once all the classrooms, laboratories, staff rooms, corridors, library, auditorium and lunch hall have been made up to snuff, my attention next turns towards the many restrooms dotted about the campus…or perhaps I should say the male restrooms specifically. At the risk of being accused of coming across as absolutely revolting…assuming that accusation has not already been made…there’s a certain peculiar fascination I find with urinals that I’m uncertain I’m able to fully articulate well. When I’m knelt in front of one and scrubbing its porcelain, my mind cannot help but to drift to the boys who stand in the very same spot, casually holding their cocks from out their flies as they take a leak side-by-side with their fellows doing the same, and just like that, my ardour flares up anew and next thing I know, I’m grinding my gash up against the handle of my mop as I wildly straddle it between my legs!

I can’t help myself! There’s just something about the inherent masculinity in the simple act of standing whilst peeing that sets me off like mad if I think about for long enough! Ah, one of these days, I just want to kneel in the middle of one of these toilets, completely starkers, and just let every young stud on campus surround and use me to shower in their steamy golden fluids instead of those urinals throughout the entire day! And perhaps maybe let me clean them off too with my lips and tongue once they’ve finished up~ …Oops! Perhaps that was a little too much? Well, for those who are still reading at this point, let me give fair warning that things are yet to be taken further still!

When I’m feeling extra mischievous, I sometimes purposely come into my shift with a full bladder, but hold it in and let the pressure build to straining point until I finally start cleaning the toilets all so I can attempt relieving myself at one of said urinals, standing upright and front-facing just like a man to see if I can make the mark! And after five years worth of practice, nine times out of ten…I still end up making a bloody mess all over the floor no matter how far apart I spread my flaps or which way I angle my hips! But, hey, I had to mop things up anyway, so it’s hardly a big loss, and the sheer relief I feel as my bladder is emptied after being so close to bursting is almost as good as any orgasm to make any spillage totally worth it~ As an aside, I’ve only just recently caught myself in the habit of picking the middlemost urinal whenever I do this. I suppose its a subconscious selection to easier associate the impression of a couple of hotties standing either side of me with their cocks in hand watching me while I do it! Would certainly explain why I always end up fingering myself to yet another climax the very moment my stream starts to peter out!

Once the loos are sparkling, the changing rooms for our resident student sport teams are where I head next, though if I know that an especially intense match of football or rugby was played earlier in the day, I always make an effort to go there first thing before anything else! Why, you may be asking? Well, isn’t it obvious? So I might have a chance to huff in any masculine musk that might still be lingering in the air after such a potent sweat has been worked up from running about and playing with balls for last couple of hours, of course! Okay, I admit, that might sound gross to more than some of you out there, but let me tell you, sniffing such a scent must trigger some sort of primitive part in my grey matter, because taking that first noseful ignites my libido something fierce that makes me abandon what little reservations I had left as I drop back-first onto the bench between the rows of lockers with my feet firmly planted far on the floor on either side before I start frantically fingering my twat with one hand while frenetically buffing my love-button with the other like it’s the last time I’ll ever have the opportunity to do so in my life!

During the entire time I have worked here, I’ve yet to come across a pair of boxer shorts or something of the like that a student may have somehow neglected to lift when leaving (and I’ve searched painstakingly!), but if there was some underwear recently removed from an athletic young man’s person lying about after a day’s worth of exercise, you’d better believe I’d have that plastered on my face to sniff some sweaty crotch fumes directly while I’m playing with myself! Just the thought alone is enough to make me light-headed, but alas, I have to make do with just glancing over to the empty showers and envision the burly hunks huddled together underneath the nozzles, soaping up their strapping bodies and juicy gonads. Wonder if they would accept a hand to help wash down their toned arses if I offered~

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