More Confessions of a Lewd Janitor

Author's note: This is a sequel to a short story I wrote ages ago titled 'Confession of a Lewd Janitor'. While this story can probably be enjoyed just fine on its own, I do recommend reading that story first.

Special thanks to the one who wishes to be credited as Toma for the original suggestion and for taking the time to act as editor.

Hi there! Remember me? Well, can't blame you if you don't. It's been a hot minute. Hope you've been doing well though. I know I have, thanks for asking~

Anyhoo, just wanted to chime back in with a brand new confession to get off my chest. A fair few things have happened since the last time we gossipped, let me tell you!

To set the scene, I'm still (somehow) employed at that exact same college and not a whole lot about the place itself has changed since I last talked about it, but one work night, while I was going through my regular rounds that I won't bother repeating the lurid details of (and if you need a refresher, then they should still be in the same place!) happy as Larry as if it was any other normal shift, and by my definition of the term, that meant having already masturbated myself to climax twice in two separate rooms, and keeping my boiler suit unbuttoned all the way down to my groin; triple-Ds and bushy muff on complete, unabashed show to absolutely nobody in the slightest...or at least, that was the case until I turned around one particular corner and suddenly found myself face-to-face with something - or more accurately, 'someone' - that caused my heart to sink all the way down to my stomach.

I found myself standing before a younger man who I had never seen before in my life with the largest look of shock on his face that I've ever have and probably ever will see on anybody, assuming the one on my own face in the moment did not surpass it! The young man - who for convenience's sake I will be referring as 'John' for the rest of this story (as in 'Doe') - was about my own medium height, and after getting over the initial astonishment of unexpectedly bumping into

anybody

, recognised how good-looking his features were even with the way he goggled at me with mouth agape and cheeks flushed crimson during that entire initial meeting: his dark hair was cut smartly short, and his strong jawline was peppered with stubble and perfectly complimented his brawny figure evident in his close-fitting shirt tucked into his trousers and a Roman nose in the very centre of his face. His staring eyes were a dashing shade of blue (my favourite colour) that stood out strikingly in the dim light and hinted at an inner gentleness that otherwise went unconveyed by his rugged exterior...not that I was objecting to his rugged exteriors in the slightest~

He more-or-less looked like the spitting image of how the student studs of my fantasies appeared in my imagination which also happened to be quite close to your typical Hollywood leading man, and he seemed to be much closer to the average college age than I certainly was too: somewhere between mid-to-late twenties if I had to guesstimate. He was - and still is - such a fine specimen of masculine beauty, that I still seriously wonder why he's wasting his time in the line of work that I soon learned he was in when he could instead be scoring gigs as a model! Although I do get the impression he is a little camera shy, but I digress. In any case, one of us had to eventually break the deafening silence that stood between us as we gawped at one another, which turned out to be myself in the end.

"Erm...hi!" I blurted out to him in an inappropriately chirpy tone with the first thing that popped into my otherwise blank mind as I could feel the muscles in my cheekbones force a nervous smile. And yes, I do agree that such a casual, cheery greeting the same way you would give a neighbour when you bump into them at the bus stop was probably not the best way to strike up a conversation in these circumstances, but try putting yourself in my boots in that moment and I'd like to see you come up with anything better! My hands were also currently full at the time holding all my cleaning equipment, so I couldn't even cover my nudity to any meaningful degree, although the thought to simply put them all down first to do so somehow never occurred to me at the time.

"Uh...hi...?" He responded in a voice with the kind of bass that stirred certain feelings within me, but with a tone that sounded much more confused than the confident equivalent I had feigned, and he probably only did so out of habit and uncertainty on what he could possibly say in that difficult situation. "Sorry, but...who are you? And more to the point,

why

are you...well, you know..." He then added as anybody naturally would, though I had half a mind to ask him the same question! After all, I was just there doing my job (in my own unique way), and here was this perfect stranger prowling around the campus after hours who was asking what

I

was doing there? The absolute nerve of him, I thought to myself as I stood there with my teats and womanhood fully bared before him, with the latter still damp from masturbation just minutes prior! Regardless, he didn't give me the impression of somebody dangerous, or even trespassing.

Unable to devise any sort of plausible excuse for being caught with my trousers down (or overalls open in my case), I decided that honesty was the second best policy and introduced myself - as unideal as first impressions were - as the college's night-shift janitor, and from there reluctantly ended up explaining myself and my daily work routine, albeit not quite to the same level of panache as my previous confession to try and give at least some impression of being humbled. Surprisingly, John calmly heard out my every word, and in turn, then explained his own reason for being there. As it turned out, he was in fact a security guard who had recently just been hired earlier in the week and was currently on his first shift that very evening. In hindsight, I probably should have been able to tell from the smart uniform he wore on his person: a light blue, buttoned shirt complete tucked into a pair of spotless black trousers held up by a buckled belt, complete with a tie around his neck with a pair of polished shoes all of the same colour. Far too formal from what a burglar would probably wear.

From what I could gleam, it seemed as though the college board finally caved in and invested in somebody who was a bit more specialised in keeping an eye on their institute after hours than yours truly, and it simply seemed like neither of us were given a heads up about our shared working hours by the person who was suppose to (thanks again, Bert!). Briefly, I panicked, as it occurred to me that security cameras might have been installed without my knowing as well, and all of my perverted behaviour had been recorded to be used as evidence at a future date in court, although John assured me that as far he was aware, this had yet to happen with a slight tone of resentment at it making his job a bit more difficult. Even still, I fully expected I would be given the sack come the morning after John had to inevitably report such lewd conduct had been going on in the hallways after dark, although I saw John think over what he had just heard me say, and by the time he was finished, I was both surprised and relieved when I heard him say. "Well...gotta admit, as weird as this first day's already turned out to be, I

guess

nobody's getting hurt by doing what you are..." There was another pause before the young man simply gave a shrug and added: "Tell you what, so long as you don't get caught by anybody else, I'll turn a blind eye, okay? Oh, and, er, sorry if I'm throwing off your mojo or anything just by being here."

"Oh, no, no, not at all!" I replied, taken aback by his apology. If anybody should be apologising there, it should have been myself! If there's such a thing as being too considerate, John is the closest thing I've met to it! "I mean, the excitement that comes with being caught is the whole point of it all! Gotta say though, now that I know what it finally feels like, it's a bit anticlimactic." I laughed, and John laughed right alongside me, bringing some much required levity towards how uncomfortable this initial encounter had been up until that point, and as simple as that, both me and him had an understanding with one another while we worked from then on.

For the rest of that night, we continued on our separate routes as normal, although it did feel a bit unusual for me knowing I would now be sharing the place I had sole run of for so long and what had been a strictly personal affair shared by nobody else, although I do imagine for as strange as it felt for me, it was all the more bizarre for John to work with an older woman wandering about the campus he was watching over while her bits were flashing all over the shop. We ended up startling each other whenever our paths did occasionally cross, abruptly reminded of the other's existence, with John gaining an eyeful of my fat tits each and every time, causing his face to tinge crimson before he walked off thinking I had not seen the slight smirk he wore.

I have to admit, a little bit of the excitement was lost now that I was around somebody else who hardly minded my antics, although cumming was still just as exhilarating as it had been whenever it happened, the process to actually getting to that was not quite the same as it had been before. After that initial shared shift and returning home, I decided in order to regain that which was lost from this shake-up to my routine, I would have to shake up the way I went about it in turn.

The very next night, sure enough, John was there and ready for his patrols. We had gotten in at about the same time that evening, and greeted each other as anybody normally would. As was my own norm, I started out the shift keeping myself completely covered, although rather than just keeping to ourselves save for the occasional intersection and pretending as though I was trying to avoid being caught, I instead went out of my way to strategically put myself in places where I thought John would round a corner next, show off as much skin as I could and start frantically masturbating in place until he would pop his head round, surprising the security guard at every instance before he went on his way.

Even this small change was enough to reignite my exhibitionist passions in the instant, and naturally led me to do the same thing for several more shifts after this, able to ambush John more consistently as I became familiar with his route. I was seriously risking what the limits of his tolerance were for my antics without checking beforehand, though I assumed if he did take any real issue with it, he would have spoken up to me about it long before things escalated even further (and believe me they did). Hell, I feel as if he just got inured to it all by the time of what I'll be going into next, and it soon became less like I was going out of my way to be seen in these compromising ways and more as if I was actively teasing the young man, although even I may not have actually been conscious of that myself at the time...

While John's bashfulness by my shenanigans was always obvious, he never seemed too uncomfortable, and took it all in good humour, although he had no clue how much of an incredible turn-on it all was for me. One day though, I decided I should probably start reigning things in a tad to avoid him becoming too weary by my behaviour, as well as to stop myself becoming bored by repeating the same activity over and over again, but as I was finishing up on that very same day and walking into our shared office while musing about what other experiments I might try with a semi-willing audience, the last thing I was expecting to witness was - of all things - John sitting by the desk, cock through his fly, in hand and in full view for almost as though he was trying to be caught in the act! I mean, seriously, he was just straight up stroking it like he was in the comfort of his own bedroom! Although saying that out loud makes me realise the irony of being shocked by this happening, but I simply expected John to be a lot better than my own degenerate self!

John pretty much noticed my entering near instantaneously and paused mid-wank as we stood staring at one another for what probably amounted to only a second or two at the very most yet felt a whole lot longer with likely equal looks of amazement (by different definitions) on our faces before John's senses came back to him and he started frantically stuffing his dick back into his trousers at the same time I - not knowing what else could be done or said in that moment - retreated out of the office and closed the door tight while John made himself decent. A moment later. I heard him asking for me, and adding it was fine for me to come back in, which I did do, albeit carefully and with some hesitation, delaying the inevitable awkward conversion that was to follow.

"Sorry you had to see that." John was courteous enough to take the lead in this unwanted but necessary talk. "I know, I know...I really should've waited till I was home before taking care of that, but I've been putting up walking about with a hard-on against my slacks for the last hour now and got impatient. I figured it wouldn't hurt to rub one out if I was quick enough. I mean, compared to the sort of things I've been seeing you getting up to, that's pretty tame! Guess you've brought out the worst in me." He added, making a nervous laugh that I matched.

"Oh, don't worry about it." I assured him, the mood now lifted. "It's not like it's anything I've not seen before. Just curious though...what the heck got you riled up as much as all that?"

He seemed hesitant to answer, though eventually said: "Well, uh, y'know...when you've got an attractive colleague who spends her whole shift with her boobs out and masturbating right in front of you, you tend to start feeling some things..." He confessed in a tone that indicated embarrassment, although the embarrassment was mutual when I heard the word 'attractive' used to describe this colleague that would not take a detective to deduce who he was referring to. Another few seconds of silence passed, as I was trying to figure out how I could respond to such a remark, although just as it was appearing as though John was starting to regret what he had just said and about to apologise and take it back, I blurted out the only thing that was on mind in that instant:

"...Do you want some help to finish?" I asked him. He seemed taken aback by the question, and you could hardly blame him. I soon started regretting what I asked myself, fearing it only made the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was. I felt as though I could have died then and there in that moment, and was honestly contemplating what the best escape route might have been with how close I was considering fleeing from this whole situation, although that thankfully did not come to pass when John finally did give his response.

"...Help in what way?" Hearing John was at least willing to hear me out on my wild proposition made all the butterflies in my stomach flutter free, although it still did nothing to help with my racing heart that I could feel thrum all the quicker at the same time I was conscious of my heavier breathing through my nostrils. In spite of all that, I still like to think I passed off my proposition as cooly as anybody else who found themselves in similar straits could have.

"Well, I suppose it would be more lending a mutual hand to one another...I mean, seeing as you apparently find your co-worker so attractive and all...and I happen to have it on good authority that she finds her own co-worker a total hunk, it only stands to reason that they give the other a little...erm...'encouragement', I guess would be the right word here?" In spite of my roundabout way of getting my point across (never found any fun in being frank), John had picked up on my insinuation and wore a wide grin on his handsome face that I could feel my own self returning, although I doubt the stupid smile plastered across my phizog looked even half as attractive as his.

In any case, not having a mirror on hand to confirm, we got underway, although perhaps it's more accurate to say

I

got underway as John was still of shy stock even by that point. With little hesitation, the zipper that kept my boiler suit together was pulled all the way down to the very bottom of its trail before I opened it up as wide as the fabric could stretch while still keeping it on my shoulders. Fortunately, this was enough for both my naked boobs and muff to be revealed in full, although I held back on touching the latter until John showed me his own goods, but thought I should give him some incentive by fondling on the former in every which way I could conceive. I squeezed my own tits by the handfuls, pressing them to my chest, jiggling them enticingly, and teasing at my own nipples with my index fingers, feeling them stiffen with excitement.

I'm not sure whether it might have been too much of a distraction for John, or if he just still had difficulty in being bold as I was being, but in any case he was taking his time when it came to taking out his own privates again, which my own anticipation seemed to make all the more agonisingly prolonged even if it likely only lasted a few seconds in reality. I made no secret of my shameless staring at his crotch, feeling myself biting my lower lip as I had only just realised he had been maintaining a sizable bulge throughout our entire conversation. At first, he unbuckled his belt, following it up by undoing his fly before then slowly pulling his loosened jeans from off his waist, separate from his black cotton boxer shorts, which seemed to me to be a few sizes smaller than for a man his size, although it did outline his manhood pressed horizontal against his pubis very nicely to the point where I still debate whether he looks better with them on or off.

Regardless though, the underwear came off soon after, and his cock sprung free with a confidence contradicting its owner, still rigid and pointing at an upright angle directly towards my face, and allowing me to better scrutinise it to my own leisure: suitable for a man as strapping as him, its length was above average (eight inches in total when I took a ruler to it during a later occasion) and with substantial girth to match, uncircumcised with the foreskin mostly retracted from the erection's glans, a pair of fat testicles that dangled low, giving the impression of a substantial weight, and all of this adorned with a dense thicket of dark pubic hairs around the base that tapered upwards towards his navel, looking as though they had not been trimmed once since they started growing there, let alone shaved, adding to the overall appeal of masculinity.

With privates bared to one another now out of the way, we each put ourselves in separate places: John himself took the sole chair that was in the room, while I perched on the table. We faced one another at a distance where I could fully witness John in all his macho glory from head to toes and he had a similar view of myself. Almost immediately after we were in position, I briskly fingered myself with reckless abandon while John provided me with a private showing of stroking off that massive member within his firm mitt at a steadier, controlled pace compared to my own masturbating, although I did not mind the slow start as it gave me greater time to admire the unexplainably fascinating manner in which his foreskin repeatedly retracted and covered his glans.

In truth, I don't think either of us were really consciously considering the other as we each demonstrated our methods of autostimulation, though John did give a good performance regardless, and it seemed (and I hope!) that I gave him at least a decent one in turn as his strokes quickly accelerated. No words were exchanged during that entire time, and with it being so quiet in that entire building, the only sounds heard were our breathing becoming increasingly heavier and rapid, the sound of John's fist rubbing his shaft and slapping upon his pubis, and the squelch of sticky honeypot as the longest digits on my right hand repeatedly dipped in and out of it that conveyed my sheer ardour loud and clear to my co-worker, and probably would have gone unappreciated in a setting even slightly nosier. I swear if I strained my ears, I probably would have been able to pick out our excited heart beats.