My Dirty Janitor Book 1: Chinned: An Oral Sex Adventure Read online

  My Dirty Janitor

  Book One: Chinned

  By Toni Mozzie

  This book contains descriptions of explicit sex. All characters in this book are 18+

  My Dirty Janitor Book 1: Chinned (An Oral Sex Adventure)

  Copyright: 2017 Toni Mozzie

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For mature audiences only 18+

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  More details about the author at the end of this book.

  Chapter One

  “When you find a guy with an insatiable appetite for eating pussy, life gets very simple,” Laura said with a look of satisfaction.

  Ginny smiled. She and her friend were on their third martini, and when they’d had that much to drink, the conversation inevitably turned to sex. “Like smart simple or stupid simple?”

  Laura took a sip of her drink before saying, “What’s the difference? Anyway, shopping’s simpler, too. Lately, about the only thing on my shopping list has been whipped cream.”

  The two had been friends for years, having met in university. Ginny’s one encounter with a woman was Laura, and she was Laura’s first experience with a white woman. Ginny, afterward realized, though it was awesome in its way, that women were not her thing. Laura, on the other hand loved another woman’s pussy like it were her own.

  Their lives, once so intertwined, slowly came untangled, and they drifted apart. Realizing this, they decided to meet on the first Monday of the month at Gabriel’s, a fine-dining mecca for those with the courage to pamper themselves.

  “You kind of sound like you’re complaining,” Ginny said.

  “Well, you know I’ve always said that no one eats pussy like another woman, but my new guy is making me wonder. I mean, girl-on-girl is just common sense, and if a girl doesn’t agree, then that means she just hasn’t tried it.”

  “What if a man disagreed?” Ginny quipped.

  “Once a man’s had a blowjob from both a woman and a man, and can tell me honestly and with a straight face that a lady gives better head than a gay guy, and then I’ll eat my words and not your pussy, honey!” Laura laughed, playfully tapping Ginny on the arm. Ginny laughed along. They both knew that whatever they had had, was long over now. It was fun to rehash old memories though.

  “And my guy, Tom, knows his shit,” Laura said, “which pisses me off because he’s kind of freaking me out.”

  Ginny giggled on little martini bubbles. She couldn’t imagine anything freaking Laura out. “Why? What’s he doing? Wearing your panties?”

  “Well, he’s sending me texts with clips of Thai mountain-climbing porn. I know he’s joking, but it’s freaky in a church backbench sort of way.”

  “Thai mountain-climbing porn?”

  “Yeah, I know, right? But anyway, it’s a thing, not a very big thing, no pun intended. I wasn’t impressed.”

  “Church backbench?”

  Laura sighed. “Well, technically a pew. I keep forgetting you had a sheltered childhood with six vacations a year. Christ, you pretty much grew up at Disneyland. I, on the other hand, had to get my kicks anyway I could, and that usually meant sitting behind the adults, in the back pews at church.”

  Ginny decided to stop asking questions while she was ahead. “I went to Disneyland once.”

  “But anyway,” Laura continued after another sip. “I’ll hold on to Tom. He has one thing going for him that gives him, all guys for that matter, an advantage over women and that’s the chinning. Have you had?”

  Ginny looked questioningly at her friend, her eyes dropping to her friend’s chin.

  Laura grinned. “Yeah, it’s when a guy rubs his stubbled chin over your pussy. It’s tingly and when he runs his chin over your clit—watch out. Tom knows exactly what he’s doing. So, I’ve decided to use chinning as the median to determine a man’s worth, you know, his oral abilities and in objective terms. If he isn’t chinning of his own accord after our second little dinner party down there, then I know he has no motivation to keep me or even worse, has no goddamn imagination how to. So I will end it the moment someone else comes along.”

  Ginny grinned and rested her chin in her hand, elbow on the table, her straight black hair hanging over her face. She was feeling the booze. “I like how you’ve simplified life, L. You should start one of those online courses for men.”

  “Yeah, I know, right? When virtual reality becomes a thing, I’ll be punching my ticket. How are you holding up anyway?” Laura asked, focused on stabbing the olive bobbling in the liquor.

  Ginny had just broken up with her boyfriend after suggesting he tie her up and spank her while he was wearing a mask. She wanted to feel the thrill of an unknown man manhandling her. In her fantasy, he would leave her tied up for hours performing endless hours of sloppy cunnilingus on her through the latex mask he was wearing. She’d laughed about it more than fantasized about it, and felt safe enough with this guy to suggest it.

  Big mistake.

  He freaked. He tried not to let on he was freaking, but Ginny knew when a guy was freaking out about either her or their relationship, and he was definitely freaking out. He said, actually insisted, that he had no such fantasy and was definitely not into masks and whips or any weird shit like that.

  A couple days later, out of the blue, he accused her of having already fulfilled her dirty fantasy, and that her ‘I’m all innocent’ act was just bullshit.

  This pissed her off.

  Then he accused her of doing it with old, fat men who hadn’t quite gotten over the high of disciplining their naughty teenage daughters. He ended his little rant with a flopper of a cliché: once a slut, always a slut and accused her of cheating on him, of getting used and abused. But it was when he mumbled something about her sick fetish being some twisted Japanese thing did Ginny get offended. Her previous boyfriend had been a cute Asian guy, with a wholesome and sincere smile. She was pissed, not only because it was racist, but also because his heritage had not been Japanese, but Chinese, from Hong Kong to be exact.

  “I’m all right. The douche was a dick. My only regret is that I bought such a big condo last year, thinking I could populate it with a family. Besides being a bitch to clean, it’s kind of depressing being alone in a space that easily swallows you up.”

  She’d decided to leave her shitty rental apartment with its kidney bean sized cockroaches after her neighbor, this creepy fifty-year-old guy, kept coming out of his apartment with no pants on, his pink cock as hard as a tube of toothpaste muttering, “Finish me off,” whenever she was coming or going, probably hearing her fumbling for her keys. She imagined him waiting with his ear to his door, listening for her.

  The first time Ginny thought nothing of it. Well, she thought plenty about it, but figured the poor, old guy was confused, maybe showing the first signs of senility. Then it happened again and before she could get a chance to talk to the Super, it happened a third time. The Super said he’d talk to the old man, but needed to
be delicate because the old man’s family members were dropping like flies, adding that, yeah, the old guy was delusional and even believed he was still in his twenties.

  A few days later the guy was coming home as Ginny was leaving and their paths crossed. He looked hurt. He stopped and asked, “Don’t you think I’m hot enough?”

  Ginny, flabbergasted, got out of there quickly. Back home, she went online and started looking for something to buy, out of the downtown core, surrounded by average middle-class families. What could ever go wrong out there?

  “So sell it and move back downtown,” Laura said. “If you want action and excitement, you need to stay close to it.”

  Chapter Two

  Ginny lived at the edge of the city, having bought where prices were once cheaper, and so she didn’t want to spend the money taking a long trip in a cab from the downtown to the suburbs. It was late, past one and as long as she got the last subway train, she’d be fine. The train had one other passenger by the time it reached her stop; a young man with sandy hair was listening to music on his headphones. He was tall and muscular and was well dressed in crisp blue jeans and a light red-dress shirt. He had a solid chin with stubble.

  Ginny shook her head. She needed to be thinking less about sex, not more if she didn’t want to suffer without the cure: The only way to endure celibacy was to get laid.

  She crossed her legs, and the crossed leg starting fidgeting. She needed to pee. Luckily her station had a restroom.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the man glance her way. She glanced back and smiled ever so faintly. He briefly smiled back and then turned his eyes to the floor.

  Ginny exhaled disappointment. He’s probably married, she thought, before realizing that it was not so auspicious to start a relationship on a subway train. But still, how was the floor more interesting than her?

  When she arrived at her station, she shuffled out the train without looking at the young man who remained onboard.

  Ginny buttoned up her coat. A cool wind cut through the tunnel and onto the platform, so she hurried up the escalator to the ladies’ restroom. The station was empty, and she was relieved she had managed to catch the last train.

  Once at the restroom, she found the janitor’s cart holding the door open and blocking her way. By now, she really needed to go, her bladder aching. The fact that she couldn’t made it feel worse. Even though the station was deserted, it didn’t occur to her to try the men’s. She wiggled past the cart.

  Once inside, she was hit with the strong odor of disinfectant with hints of lemon.

  A man was cleaning the mirrors with Windex and paper towels. He turned and stared at her. She stared back. He was built with jet black hair and dark eyes that looked like inky shadows under his eyelids. He looked like he was in his late twenties. He wore a grey T-shirt, and she could tell he worked out; his arms were muscular, solid and refined.

  He smiled sympathetically, noticing her slight fidgeting. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but the station’s closed now.”

  “Do you mind? I’ll just be a sec.”

  “Well, I still have work to do, so I can’t wait outside. If you’re fine with that, then be quick. I’d tell you to go to the men’s, but I locked it up already.”

  “I’ll close the stall door.”

  “Yeah, no, you won’t.”

  “Pardon?” Ginny asked, a thrill, part anger, part excitement over his command, shot up her spine.

  “No door. The one with a stall door doesn’t work. Actually,” he added with a chuckle, “good thing the broken one has a door, so I got something to put the ‘out of order’ sign on.”

  Ginny walked over to the far stall without a door and peered in. True, there was no door, but it was sparkling clean. She walked to the counter and put her bag down beside a sink. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind. I promise not to make any weird noises or weird smells. I just had a few drinks, and they’re going through me.”

  “Sure, knock yourself out.” He grinned mischievously, eyeing her, almost daring her. It made her heart leap. She didn’t have the feeling he was threatening in any way, but rather that he was merely teasing playfully. He had that vibe of a guy who is the best friend of the dude you’re sleeping with. Besides, she was a pretty good judge of character, being a bank manager.

  “Thanks, but I don’t want to get busted for loitering.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wondered what the hell she was thinking. She prayed he didn’t ask her what she meant, because she had no idea what she meant.

  “Actually, it’s a bit of an honor. In my line of work it’s not often I get to see one of my customers in the flesh, if you know what I mean. So this is a treat.”

  “Well, glad to oblige,” Ginny muttered sarcastically, going into the stall. She turned around, and after making sure he wasn’t peeking with the aid of the mirrors, she lifted her dress and pulled her panties down to her knees and sat down. Instantly, pee gushed out of her, splashing the water in the toilet bowl. The noise embarrassed her a little, so she started talking.

  “Wow, it smells really clean in here. Usually, whenever I must use the subway restrooms, it smells like, well, you know.”

  “Thanks and yeah, I know that smell. If you ask me, it’s a little sad to have to remove it.”

  Ginny laughed, still feeling the martinis a little. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s grown on me.”

  Ginny giggled. She figured he was joking. She liked the dark ones with the dark sense of humor.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked. He was still cleaning the mirrors; she could hear the squeaking paper towel move over the glass.

  “You. No offence. It’s kind of hot—your commitment to the ladies’ restroom and all.”

  She reached for the toilet paper, but there was none.

  “Hey, do you have any toilet paper?”

  “Oh, sorry, I took all the old rolls off. It was cheap quality stuff.”

  “Yeah, but better than nothing.”

  “Actually, I have this thing. I put expensive rolls on at night when the station closes. These rolls are soft, erotic even, so when the early birds come first thing, they’ll have a little soft lick me up, courtesy of me. My colleague said he has to replace my rolls fifteen minutes after the subway opens. But on the mornings after my days off, when it’s the usual cheap rolls, he doesn’t have to change them for a couple hours. Isn’t that crazy?”

  She heard water pouring from a tap for a moment.

  Then without warning, his disembodied hand appeared around the door holding a roll of toilet paper. She reached for it, but it was too far. Her panties were to her knees, and she didn’t want them to slip any lower, so being overly cautious, she struggled to stand up. She fell back onto the toilet seat. Her head was spinning a little.

  “I can’t reach it,” she said, exhaling.

  His hand and arm lurched a bit further toward her, but the toilet roll was still out of reach.

  “Still can’t reach it. It’s late; I’m buzzed, so just come in here and give it to me.” The moment the last word was out of her mouth, he was in front of her, before she could reword.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked up at him questioningly, not sure what he was referring to.

  He stared back at her; she could see the passion in his eyes. It made her wet enough to feel that what was happening now was right.

  “Here,” he said, holding the roll out to her.

  She didn’t reach for it immediately.

  “Or perhaps, I can help. As you probably know, there’s always a better way.”

  Her brain caught up to the moment enough to respond. “So says everyone who wants something.”

  “But would you want it any other way?”

  Their eyes locked, and just before it got awkward enough to snap them back to reality, the janitor said, “And besides, you’re taking so long, that if I don’t get you cleaned up, I could be here all night.”

  For a mome
nt she was wondering where this guy was planning to bathe her.

  “Why? Because that’s you job?” she whispered, frozen to the toilet, and with her panties around her knees, feeling the most vulnerable she’s ever felt in her life. It made her pulse race.

  He swallowed hard; his eyes filled with lust. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but she was dying to know and stared, entranced, at the man hovering over her as he slowly unraveled sheets of soft cotton ball tissue paper.

  Was he about to realize her fantasy of having a stranger ravish her?

  Chapter Three

  Once the sheets were in his hand, he stepped forward and kneeled down before her. She studied him without moving, as if waiting for him to instruct her.

  He moved slowly, hesitantly, testing her, making sure she didn’t feel any pressure to do something that would make her feel uncomfortable. But there was nothing uncomfortable about having this man kneeling before her and between her legs with a hungry look in his eyes. It had been too long since she last had a man’s tongue between her legs.

  As he inched closer, his hands caressed her knees, and her legs instinctively spread until her panties prevented her from spreading farther apart. The janitor gently took hold of the panties and after smelling them, pulled them down to her ankles. She lifted her right foot out of them. Then he spread her legs until her knees were almost touching the stall walls. He gazed upon her shaved pussy and swallowed.

  “What?” she whispered, desire burning in her eyes, her lips apart only enough to allow small breaths.

  “You look so delicate.”

  She moaned and arched her butt. What was he waiting for?

  He leaned in and when his nose was inches from her shaved slit, she could feel his breath on her pussy lips, and it made her heart race in anticipation.