The Janitor (M; ff; mast; ped; voy)
By Neverlander
(c) May 2011

“Hi, Mr. Symanski!”  The little sixth grader clutched her books to her
chest as she rounded the corner on her way to English, her first class
after lunch.

“Hello, Celine, how are you today, honey?” replied the janitor, closing
the door to the utility closet where he had just replaced his mop.

“I’m good,” she said, smiling at the kindly man as she tripped past
him.  “’Cept I’m almost late for class.  Have a nice day!”

“You too, dear, you too.”  He waved as he turned to make his way down
the stairs to deal with work to be done in the boiler room, and to have
his own lunch.

Everybody liked Symanski.  He had worked at the Merry Mount Middle
School for forever, it seemed, and had seen generations of kids pass
through it.  Most of the students barely noticed him as he went about
his duties, invisible, just part of the background.  But others were
drawn to him as to a kindly uncle, and felt somehow comforted by his
presence.  This was especially true of some of the younger girls, like
Celine.  He was divorced and didn’t have children, but at school he was
surrounded by youngsters.

After checking the thermostat circuitry in the basement, he went into
his private quarters and locked the door behind him.  Getting a
sandwich from his small refrigerator, he took down a schedule of the
day’s classes posted on his bulletin board, and sat down in an old
recliner he had moved into the room years ago.  He glanced at the class
schedule, then picked up a remote control and turned on the television
his recliner was positioned in front of.  It was a nice set, a high
definition digital TV with a wide flat screen, nicer than what he had
at home in fact.  He found CNN and watched the news as he nibbled at
his ham and cheese sandwich.

When the time display on the screen indicated that his lunch hour was
ending, he got up and went over to the TV and unplugged the input cable
from the television connection mounted in the wall, and reconnected it
to the digital filter he brought with him each day.  He plugged this
into an electrical outlet, then returned to his chair and sat down.

He began to cycle through channels with the remote, and the images on
the TV screen changed: girls’ and boys’ locker rooms, the boys’ shower,
and all four individual stalls in the girls’ shower.  Seven micro-
miniature cameras were sending encrypted digital streams of Ethernet
traffic over the same wires that carried electric current throughout
the school building.  Symanski was a talented hobbyist.

The schedule indicated that a girls’ free swim was about to start.  He
advanced the channel to their locker room.  As the girls began to
appear he stood up and unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants and
underwear.  Then he sat back down and licked his lips in anticipation
as he watched the girls start to undress.

Symanski liked watching barely pubescent girls reveal their firm, young
bodies to him, while he stroked his excited penis.  He liked watching
the boys, too.  Once he caught a young kid late to the showers who,
thinking himself alone, masturbated and got himself off as Symanski
watched.  God, the look on his face!  And the glistening head of that
young cock, darting in and out of sight as the boy worked it over in
his soapy fist…  Symanski timed his climax so they could come together.

But today he was watching the girls, and he began to fondle his growing
erection as he took in the sight of girls stripping in front of him and
traipsing around in their bras and panties.  He loved seeing girls in
panties, especially young girls like these, girls in tight cotton
briefs or tantalizing, skimpy bikinis.  Sometimes they were solid
pastel colors, sometimes they had tiny patterns of flowers or baby
bears.  He liked the panties with delicately scalloped lace trim, so
sweet and sexy.  Watching these girls in their underwear drove him
wild; it teased him crazy to see them displayed in front of him like
this, with what he wanted to see most hidden by thin wisps of frilly
fabric.  The sight tantalized and frustrated him -- he loved it.

He sighed with pleasure as he worked on his cock, squeezing it and
feathering it with his fingertips as it reacted to the sight of these
preteen girls removing their clothes.  Celine appeared and went to her
locker and opened it.  She began to unbutton her blouse.

“Oh, yeah,” Symanski whispered, “oh yeah, here we go!”  He spread his
legs wider on the recliner foot rest so that he could reach between his
legs to fondle his balls.

The girl removed her blouse to reveal a simple cotton undershirt with
spaghetti shoulder straps.  Her breasts were small, but her puffy
nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric of the shirt, and
Symanski bit his lower lip as he stared at them with growing lust.  She
crossed her arms and pulled the shirt off over her head.  As she did
she turned so that her right breast was seen in profile, a firm little
cone tipped with a soft pink strawberry nipple that was becoming erect
in the open air.

“On god, oh god!” Symanski moaned, his excitement rising as he stroked
his rigid cock.  He was imagining what it would be like to suck on
those tender little nips.

Celine faced forward as she unbuckled her jeans and dropped them to the
floor.  She stood now in just a tiny pair of pink bikini panties as she
lifted her feet free of the jeans.  Symanski could see both of her
precious little tits now, jiggling tautly with her movements.  She bent
to retrieve the jeans from the floor and turned to hang them in her
locker.  Symanski stared hard at her pert, firm bottom, flexing
enticingly under the skimpy panties -- it was tight, so tight!  She
quickly pushed them down and stood nude with her back to him as she
took her bathing suit from the locker and pulled it on.  He moaned in
frustration at the brief view of her bare bottom and its disappearance
into the suit.  His hand twisted back and forth around his aching hard-
on, making him whimper with mounting pleasure and need.

The girl turned to face him now in her red, one-piece lycra swimsuit,
the glistening material snugly molding the smooth, hairless lips
between her legs.  She spent a few seconds adjusting the suit, cupping
her young breasts in her hands and turning to the side as she pulled at
the bottom of the suit to smooth it over her buttocks.

“You tease, oh my god you little tease!” Symanski gasped, frantically
stroking up and down his cock.  He could almost imagine that she was
tormenting him on purpose with her exquisite little body -- but of
course she had no idea that she was inflicting a maddening cock-tease
on a masturbating voyeur.  He wiped his mouth with his free hand -- he
was literally drooling with lust.

Celine closed her locker and tripped down the row out of sight.
Symanski now turned his attention to a girl who had the adjoining
locker.  She was older, a thirteen-year-old eighth grader with large,
high breasts.  She had already taken off her sweater and t-shirt and
was in the process of removing her brassiere.  Her hands were behind
her, struggling with the clasp, and it took her some time with her tits
thrust forward and jiggling before she was able finally to release them
from confinement -- heavy, round globes, high and firm with taut, light
brown nipples the size of quarters.  Again, Symanski found himself
wishing he could suck, suck and slobber all over the girl’s delicious
tits, swirling his tongue around and around  her erect nipples,
imagining their texture on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh god I need it, ohhh please I want that so much!”  Both his hands
were all over his inflamed cock, fondling and stroking it, pleasuring
it while the images on the screen teased it mercilessly.  The girl took
off her panties while still facing the camera, and Symanski almost came
as he stared hungrily between her legs at her downy cunt, imagining how
it would feel if his cock were buried there, sliding in and out of her
warm, slippery folds.  He moaned almost in agony as he fought to hold
himself back from orgasm.  Looking down at his frustrated penis, rigid
and purple in his hand, its head glistening and turgid, he fought the
urge to give it the single stroke it needed to explode in ecstasy.
God, that would feel so good, so good!  But he wanted to make this
last, last for a long time.  He wanted his cock to be teased by pretty
little girls a lot more before he came.

When all of the girls had left the locker room Symanski shakily got up
and pulled his pants back up.  He had about forty-five minutes before
the girls returned from their swim, so he turned the set off and went
back upstairs to check the corridors for graffiti that he’d have to
clean up later.  There never was much; these kids were not a wild
bunch.

He remained sexually excited as he moved about the school, and he had
to be careful that his erection wasn’t too obvious.  Every girl he
passed in the hall turned him on, and he amused himself by imagining he
had x-ray vision -- if she only knew that a dirty old man is drooling
over her pretty tits and ass!  That’d be so great -- oh yeah!  Wish I
could do that.  He passed the office and got a glimpse of Muriel, the
principal’s secretary.  Even she made his hard-on twitch today.  She
was a little chubby, but oh my god those tits, those big, juicy tits!
And she knew it, too.  She knew what it did to guys when they saw her
bouncing those balloons around the school -- what a cock-tease!

He checked his watch frequently, and when the end of the girls’ swim
was approaching he hurried back down to his room and turned the
television back on.  He settled himself back down in his chair with his
pants pushed down to his ankles, and got ready to resume his cock play.

Symanski had a large penis, and he was proud of it.  He was very
popular on the webcam jerk-off sites where he enjoyed masturbating to a
large audience.  It was great when he was able to get a woman watch him
stroke and get so excited that she did herself in front of him, too.
Men liked watching him as well, some because they envied his big cock,
but also because he made a point of touching himself in places that
other males immediately recognized as particularly sensitive, and they
identified with his moans of pleasure as he fondled himself.  He also
let the viewers see what he was looking at as he masturbated, usually
pictures of naked young girls.  This got other men with the same tastes
very excited as they jerked off along with him.  It was even better
when they used mikes, the way he did, so they could listen to each
other moan with pleasure.

His cock had relaxed from its former erect state, and was lying
extended across his right thigh as the girls began entering the locker
room after their swim.  He cycled through the cameras that were located
in the shower stalls, opening four windows displayed simultaneously on
the television screen.  As girls appeared in the stalls, his penis
stirred and began to swell once more.  He didn’t touch it at first; he
just looked down at it as it enlarged and lifted on its own, reacting
to the excitement he was feeling as he anticipated the show he was
about to see.  He would hold off touching it for as long as he could,
deliberately teasing it as he watched young girls running their hands
over their bodies in the showers.

And that’s just what he was seeing now.  The girls appeared in the
stalls and quickly slipped off their lycra suits.  Then they took bars
of soap and lathered their bodies, after which they replaced the bars
in their holders and proceeded to rub themselves all over, front and
back.  The miniature cameras were hidden in the grout between tiles
about two feet above the floor and looking upwards, so Symanski was
looking up at the nubile young bodies from below.  As he stared up at
glistening breasts and buttocks that the girls were cupping and rubbing
with their soapy hands, and at the pouting vulvas nestled between their
legs, he began to touch his now completely erect cock.  He didn’t grasp
it and stroke it, not yet -- instead he just feathered his fingertips
along his shaft, lingering at the top to flick around the underside of
the head.  He moaned aloud at the tantalizing tease, desperate for
pleasure, maddened by lust for the glistening bodies on the screen.
Celine was there in the lower left window, facing the camera.  He
stared hungrily up at her graceful breasts tipped with delicate pink
nipples.  She moved her hands up along her ribs to her chest, then
cupped her hands over her tits and squeezed and caressed them.  She
looked down at herself -- and into the camera, although she didn’t see
it -- and gently pinched her tender nipples between thumb and forefinger
until they became erect.  Then she quickly reached down and soaped
herself between her legs, parting her thighs slightly.  Symanski’s eyes
widened -- is she masturbating?  Maybe?  She turned around and rubbed
soap all over her glistening buttocks and between them.  He licked his
lips and stared at her firm cheeks as she rubbed and kneaded them.  Her
ass was so firm, so high, and the crease between her cheeks and the
tops of her thighs was so soft yet defined, just like a baby’s bottom.
She turned towards him again, her hands still reaching behind as she
massaged her cheeks.  Her hips were thrust forward so that her crotch
and pussy stood out prominently in front of her, clearly revealing her
tender pink labia, and even a peek of her glistening clitoris at the
top of her crevice.

It was too much for Symanski.  With a groan of pleasure he grasped his
erection with his right hand and began to stroke it up and down.  He
kept the pace slow, still teasing himself, his hand barely touching the
skin as it passed over his rigid cock, gently and lightly pleasuring
it.  At the same time he tickled his scrotum with the fingernails of
his left hand whenever his masturbating hand passed over that wonderful
sweet spot under the inflamed head.

He was in heaven as he gazed at the girls on the screen, stroking now
in earnest as he drooled over them.  “Oh my god, oh my god, you sweet
thing -- ohhhhhhhhhhhh oh my god this feels so good, yeah, yeah that’s
it, show it to me, lemme see that pussy … Ohhh you sweet little bitch,
oh yeah, work on those tits, mmmmmm I wish that was me, I wanna feel
those tits, I wanna suck on them … god, look at that firm little ass,
ohhhh god I need to cum, and her tits, soooo big, Christ, ohhhhh please
show me your pussy … yeah that’s it!  Yeah that’s what I want, I wanna
get my cock in there, ohhh let me fuck you, sweetie, feels so good, so
fuckin' good, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

He reached for a tube of K-Y on the table next to his chair, and
squeezed out a large glob into his palm and rubbed and twisted it all
over his huge erection.  The intensity of his sexual pleasure shot up,
and he cried out in ecstasy.  He began to jerk himself faster, pumping
and twisting his fist up and down his cock and around its head, cupping
and massaging his balls, his gaze shifting back and forth between the
beautiful young bodies naked and glistening on the screen, and his
desperately aroused, blue-veined penis, its head purple and distended.
“Look at what you do to me, you gorgeous little bitches, look at it,
and you know it, too, don’t you, ohhhh god if you kids only knew how
you make me feel!”  He was on the edge of orgasm, and he fought the
urge to finish it, he wanted the excitement and pleasure to last
forever, to drive him mad with tease and lust and aching, tantalized
desire.

He reached the point of no return -- “Oh god, I’m coming, oh god oh god,
ohhhh you sweet little cock-teasers, here it comes, here it comes, it’s
all for you you sweet little bitches, I need it, I need it so bad, oh
my god oh my god…”  He threw back his head, his mouth open and his brow
furrowed in helplessness, his eyes still darting from one naked girl to
another, and his penis erupted in spasms of intense voluptuous pleasure
as it spurted jets of milky semen that fell back on onto the turgid
glans and down over his pumping and twisting fist.

It took a couple of minutes for him to regain his breath and composure,
as he slowly wiped the thick, viscous sperm from his hands and body
with several tissues.  He stood up and pulled his pants and underwear
back on, and disconnected the filter from the television set and the
electrical outlet.  He looked down at himself and cupped his hand in
his crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze.  “Well, that was good,” he
said, “real good.”  He smiled wistfully.  “You’re a nasty perv, all
right, a nasty jerking off pedophile perv -- and you love it!”  This
is what sex is for him, he knew, and it probably always would be.  He
was  content with that.

He was outside seeing to some plantings when school was dismissed, and
Celine passed him on her way to her school bus.

“Bye, Mr. Symanski, see you tomorrow!” she called, waving to him.

“Bye, honey,” Symanski replied, returning her wave.  “Yes, I’ll see you
tomorrow.  Have a nice evening.”

He went back to his work.  Yes, I’ll see you again tomorrow, all right,
and in my dreams, too.  He was already thinking about how sweet his
webcam jerk-off session was going to be later tonight -- he’ll really
have some juicy memories to get him going, and some nasty things to
pant into the mike.

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tim_cravin@yahoo.com
