Sexy Fun Times/Work/School/Elementary/Janitor
You drive round behind the school and park in your own space by the boiler room. Once inside, you hang up your jacket and put a dust coat on, then you check the various gauges before setting off into the school proper. The kids haven’t arrived yet, so it’s pretty quiet; just the whirring of a floor polisher, the clang of a bucket and the murmuring voices from the staff room.
The two cleaning ladies have been hard at work for an hour or so. Siobhan is in her forties, but still pretty fit looking and you stand and watch her substantial ass as she works the machine from side to side in the corridor. As you walk past you give it a friendly slap; “morning Siobhan.”
“Morning Jack,” she says, straightening up. It’s warm in the school, so the cleaners don’t usually wear much underneath their overalls. Siobhan’s head barely comes up to your shoulder, so you can easily see the lacy black bra that’s keeping her ample tits under control.
Janice, the other cleaner, doesn’t get a slap; she’s a lesbian and made it perfectly clear that she has no interest in me or any other man.
The next couple of hours are busy; the kids arrive and disperse into their various classrooms, you have some tubes to change and one of the teachers needs a hand to rearrange the furniture, but by break time you are back in your hidey-hole with the morning paper and a coffee. After two years on the job, you have a really good setup here; anyone coming in through the steel-reinforced door, sees exactly what they would expect: a gas-fired furnace and a lot of pipes and valves; a big electrical consumer unit with a tray loaded with thick cables leading off into the school; instructions and safety notices on the painted block walls and some shelves and cupboards. Everything is neat and tidy.
There are doors on both sides: one leads to a passageway behind the toilets and showers where the cisterns and pipes are, and the other to your personal space. This was originally a storeroom and the door is always locked when you are not around; you have the only key.
There are no windows in this room and the light can either come from a pair of harsh overhead tubes, or a floor lamp standing beside a three-seater couch. There’s a kitchen unit along one wall with a sink and a draining board; a coffee machine stands on the work surface. On the wall opposite the couch, is a large flat-screen TV with a cabinet underneath containing a selection of DVDs and a player and in the middle of the floor there is a sturdy table and a couple of chairs. The walls are painted block work, but the floor is covered with a soft rug.
You are lounging on the couch, reading the paper with your feet up; your boots left at the door. There’s a timid knock you reach for the remote control, press a button and a picture appears on the TV screen.