Private Eyes

At precisely 6pm, I set up my equipment and began my surveillance of Marcus B. Taylor, Attorney at Law. I had been hired to spy on the janitorial crew, more precisely, to catch a thief.

Taylor believed that the janitorial crew might possibly be to blame for the disappearance of some valuable objects displayed about his office. He was perplexed, for the same people had been cleaning for years, and now suddenly, things were disappearing, when things had been fine for the longest time.

I thought he was nuts to have thousand dollar art collectables sitting in his office, unprotected, but that was the rich for you. I was in an empty office, with just a desk, lamp, and chair. Waiting for the next occupant to stamp their personal touch on it, and make it theirs. I set my telescope, video camera remote control, and binoculars on the ledge, training them on the office of Marcus B. Taylor. I had a great viewpoint, and could almost see into the office with just my naked eye. But I wanted to see everything up close, so I brought the extra artillery.

Things were uneventful, and I watched the pretty young janitor go about her duties in the offices on the floor below Taylor's office. She started with the cubicle area first, trashing, dusting, and wiping coffee rings from desks with an efficiency that I admired. Then she hit the offices at the back, where I couldn't see much of anything.

Then she came around the corner, and I watched her performance in the executive offices. Still she moved with the stealth and grace of a panther in the jungle. She used glass cleaner on the glass-topped desks, spraying her paper towel instead of the glass itself, so as not to disturb anything on the desk. I noticed that she touched nothing personal on the desk- just hitting the open spaces.

Yes, she truly was a professional. As she left each office, once she had vacuumed, she turned out the lights. She never even glanced at the objects in, or around the offices. I lit a cig, knowing I'd have to wait about an hour for her to reach the office of Marcus Taylor.

I studied the janitor, and liked the slim, graceful body. She had a nice rack on her, easily a D, possibly DD. I loved big breasted women. She had a nice, firm backside too. High ass, very full, and her skirt clung to her buns like a second skin. I didn't know that they used such uniforms anymore, and I sort of admired her in it. Especially when she got down on her hands and knees, and picked up paper balls, tossed carelessly- miles away from the trash cans.

When she did that, I noticed that my pretty little suspect wasn't wearing any panties! That got my attention, and I grabbed my binoculars for a closer look. She took much longer than needed to grab a few balls of wadded up paper. I got a great look at her pussy. Nice, plump lips, shaved clean, and flowering. Was she exhibiting herself on purpose, hoping that someone was watching?

My cock sprung to attention immediately at the thought, and almost at the same moment, I saw her hand go between her legs, and watched as she spread her pussy lips apart. I began to rub myself through my trousers. I was throbbing, and the tightness in my trousers was becoming unbearable. Just when I was ready to pull out, she removed her hand, and stood up.

She went about her cleaning duties as if she hadn't just fingered herself in front of me. I did notice however, that she began looking my way more often. Not exactly at me, but out the window, as if searching for whom ever was watching.

I had a feeling she was going to do some more playing, but as she came upon the last office, she'd still not made another move. Her cleaning had sped up- perhaps to make up for the time she'd lost fingering herself, I'm not sure.

Upon entering Marcus B. Taylor's office, she did not turn on the lights, as she had done in all of the previous offices. Here, she stood hesitant in front of the window. I made sure to grab the binoculars, as I didn't want to miss a single thing. I also hit record on the remote recording device I had planted in Taylor's office. They were small cameras, recording from several locations.

She jumped, as if startled, then fished in her pocket for her cell phone. She answered it then leaned casually against the desk. I had a perfect shot of her, smiling into the phone on camera three. I wished I'd thought to install audio surveillance as well. I'd love to hear what she was saying to the person on the other end.

I nearly jumped when she gave a little wave. Then, while I stood transfixed, she began undoing the buttons on the front of her uniform. Slowly, she began to sway sexily, still talking into the phone. Under the smock, she was naked as the day she was born. Her tits were perfect, firm, high and huge. I loved them. So did my throbbing member!

I unbuttoned my trousers, but did not lower them. Not yet. It was too early for that. She played with her large nipples, getting them hard by pinching and twisting them to and fro. I loved nipple play, and would love to be salivating all over those rosy peaks, biting them, nibbling, sucking. My cock throbbed in response to that thought. Yeah, he loved to glide between warm mammary glands just as much as I loved doing it.

Her hands trailed from her breasts to her stomach, slowly, teasingly, and achingly erotic for those of us who watched her. I had come to the conclusion that she had someone in this building she was playing for, a boyfriend perhaps or a co-worker? Whoever he was, he was a lucky S.O.B!

Her fingers teased the lips of her pussy, long, pale fingers against a dark mat of hair. I liked that she was natural, preferring a woman's charms over that of pre-pubescent girls. She was 100% woman in my book. She hiked her leg up on the chair, spreading wide. Fingers slide inside the warm cocoon of her wetness. Shiny, slick, and wet, she plunged her fingers in again and again.

At this point, I unzipped, and let my trousers fall to the floor. I worked my boxer briefs off with one hand, while holding the binoculars with the other. I slowly stroked my chub, which was rock hard. Pre-cum oozed from the head in copious amounts, which I used to lube my 7 inch prick.

I nearly shot my wad when she got up, walked around the desk, and opened a box containing Cuban cigars. Nice, fat, individually wrapped cigars. I knew what was coming, and I switched from the binoculars to the telescope.

I used the zoom of the scope, and lens and zeroed in on her twat, watching in fascination as she parked her butt on the chair, hefted her legs up onto the window ledge, and spread them as wide as possible. Camera four was also in perfect position for this escapade, located dead center in front of her. I took a moment to adjust the angle, aiming it straight at her pussy. I could see every glorious droplet of girl juice that leaked from her hole. I knew I'd have awesome jacking material from this tape!

She circled her engorged clitoris with the end of the cigar, teasing it until it was as hard as a tiny cock. I could see it pulsating, aching for relief! After what seemed like a very long time of just playing, she inserted that cigar into her soaking pussy, and began fucking her pussy with it. She started off slow, but soon I could see she was getting close to cumming. I sped up my strokes, fisting my cock even faster. I could feel the cum in my ball sacs boiling, tightening, ready to fly.

"That's it baby, work that pussy!" I whispered softly. "God, I'd love to be in that hole- love to fuck that sweet pussy."

Her fingers were stroking her clit now, the other hand pushing that fat cigar in and out. Her hips lifted up off the chair, but she didn't miss a stroke as she plunged the cigar in and out. All of a sudden, I knew I couldn't hold my orgasm back any longer, when she removed the cigar, and let loose a flood of juices. Her cum squirted out of her cunt, splashing against the window ledge, and even onto the glass.

My cum erupted from my cock at the same moment, spurt after spurt of hot sticky semen coating the window ledge and glass. I pumped the last of the cum from my cock, as I watched her replace the cigar into the box, and get dressed. She wiped up her mess with shaky hands, cleaned the rest of the office then gave a little wave at the window, as she vacuumed her way out of the office.

I sat down, to catch my breath, and give my shaky legs a moment to recover. I sat there for a good fifteen minutes then noticed someone enter the office. It was security, doing their rounds. I almost turned away, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pick something up. It was from the bookshelf, a small, expensive art object from the Orient. He slipped it into his pocket, and made his away out of the office. Luckily, the cameras were still recording. I would have to edit the tape so that the janitors escapade wasn't revealed, but showing the guards theft.

I had once again caught my man. Right now though, I was more concerned with catching up with the janitor. I wouldn't mind trying out that little hottie in person. Perhaps I should milk this job for a few days- see if she performed again?