Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
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Can't Stop Myself And A Lonesome Janitor free porn video
Paul runs a small IT business. As a rule, he visits his clients, or when they have to come by, he books a conference room in one of the town's hotels. Last year he proposed to decorate a wall in his study with nude photos of me in black and white. Frankly, I wasn't amused. The one or other customers have to see him, because of the hardware they use, some friends might enter the den too and last not but least our janitor who takes care of the condo when we are on vacation. Since I had screwed a little too much with other guys 'outside the bedroom' lately, I owed Paul and agreed. He never blamed me for wrongdoing. The opposite, he was and is proud of me. I thought it was an opportunity to give him back what he had so generously granted me.
One day I returned home from work, opened the door, and heard male voices speaking. Paul and two clients discussed the job he was working on. I never saw the two before. They got up, introduced themselves very politely, and changed topic on the spot to the pictures. A cascade of compliments was the outcome, including wishes like wife or partner would be half as courageous and open-spirited as I am. And they didn't think for a split of a second, the photos would be indecent or offensive. It was the day I realized I'm on the right track.
Hand-selected friends thought the posters artistic, whereas the family pretended not to see them. Once, a craftsman, who doesn't know me, had to fix a radiator in the study, noticed the pictures, and stated boldly, this hottie was in a men's magazine, but couldn't name her right now. She is a helluva woman, he said. Wish I would meet her and underlined his statement by grabbing his dick. Paul told me the story later, and we were in the fits of laughter.
A vacation was due. I instructed the janitor what to look after, like flowers to water, loggia to clean, etc. Deliberately, I let him to the study and watched him discreetly. His eyes almost fell out when he saw my pics. He flushed, gathered his wits, and pretended clumsy not to see what was visible. We know he is a keen watcher of porn, a pic of a boobed woman is always on his phone (Paul, could have been you).
The janitor and I in a room, a guy who had undressed me a hundred times in his fantasy presumably. I must confess, a tingling sensation rushed thru my body and said, 'I don't mind when you look at the pictures, but I need you to promise, don't take a photo of the study. I'm not keen on seeing my face on the web.'
Beads of sweat stood on his forehead, upper lips, and shimmered in the light. I felt sorry for the poor guy, fetched a glass of water in the kitchen, sat down on the desk, and asked him, do we have a deal, no photos of my pics? 'Yes, sure,' he stumbled, 'you know I'm discreet, it's an important part of my job. I saw some men and women undressed in the house already, old people, however, one like you wasn't on the list.'
I should have left it at that statement, he gave me his word. But the player in me took over the further conversation, a player who found herself superior to the man. He emptied the glass with one gulp and said my boobs would look much better he had thought of. More often than not, he wished he would get a glimpse of my cleavage.
I liked his openness and honesty, got up, and said, 'let's close the deal, get your phone.' He pulled it out of a pocket and looked at me, puzzled. I must be nympholeptic, I thought, and said 'do what you always wanted to do, undress me, take pics of my tits, an avatar for your phone, but no face.' I never saw him moving so fast. He stepped in front of me, grinned like a horse, and unbuttoned the blouse slowly. He is almost my age, yet the way he proceeded told me that there can't be many women in his life. Every time he undid a button, he took pictures of my cleavage, and said, 'you are the first woman who encourages me to take pics of her boobs. I appreciate that. Hope I'm not forward. Do me a big favor and let me touch your tits.'
'Keep on going,' I replied, 'we just started' and pulled off the open blouse. The sight of my tits in the bra made the poor man visibly nervous, broke a sweat, even his hands were damp. He stared at my tits and stated, 'you always made me hard when I watched you jogging in front of the house. I love your skin-tight black jogging suit. Don't know what kind of bra your wear. Seems pretty tight for the big boobs. Love it to see the upper boobs wiggle. Some guys in the house admire your tits and wish you were bra-less.'
His openness and reflective nature appealed to me. I came across men who were imperious sometimes brazen; sweetheart, take your clothes off and let's fuck the brains out.
'Let's sweeten the deal,' I said, 'I'll be back in a minute,' went to the dressing room, doffed entirely and put on the black two-piece jogging suit. I was already on my way back when a pubescent lust came over me, the appetite to play. There was no time for the nipple pump, so I grabbed four rings instead, pulled the nipples, and put two on each. A glimpse in the mirror. Fantastic, and pulled the zipper closed. When I left the room, I noticed a forlorn condom in the drawer, grinned, and stuffed it in a pocket.
Back in the study, the janitor looked at me, and his lower chin fell almost on the floor. 'If you like, we can jog together now,' I said, 'but you told me, you're not in sports, got enough work to do. But I can jog on the spot.'
He watched my bouncing boobs and smiled. Slowly, very slowly, I pulled the zipper open. His face turned red, and when he saw my topless, he said, 'excuse me, I need the bathroom.'
'You know where to go, but if you're desperate for relief, there's a much better way,' I said, holding the condom in front of his face.
'What about your husband?' he asked. Before I could answer, he threw his initial shyness overboard, opened my zipper, and grabbed both tits.
'Don't worry, he will be back in an hour. Besides, we have a freakish agreement when it comes to fucking. Let's drop your pants before it's too late' and handed him the condom. He got rid of his jacket, opened the belt of the trousers, and dropped it at almost no time.
He is a tall guy, and so is his dick, thick at the base and narrow at the tip, a rocket penis. I didn't want him to kiss me, as most guys prefer to do. On the other hand, he is an opportunity to get banged by an unspoiled, fresh guy. Most likely, I will provide him the one and only fuck in his life. I undressed, sat down on the edge of the desk, spread the legs, and said, come closer. He was hairy like a bear. I took his massive dick and let it between the pussy lips. He didn't need any assistant and rammed it deep inside until his bones hit mine. The sudden penetration widened my vagina that I thought, it's going to explode. The thrust was so powerful that I lost balance and fell down flat on the desk. He starred at me in surprise, stumbled an excuse, but I cut him off, caught for breath, raised the legs, and held me around his waist. He fucked in a steady rhythm, banged on my bones, pulled the dick entirely out, and started again. The smacking sound of my wet pussy filled the room. I felt the juice running between my legs and dripping onto the desk. The caretaker drove me nuts. I didn't want to, cursed my damn pussy, and had an immense orgasm soon. Spasms made me shaking. I raised the head, lowered it, raised the belly, and back again. 'You're awesome,' he said and screwed me gentle and smooth. I'd like to try something else I was taught in a brothel once,' he continued.
'What? Brothel?' I stumbled, gasping for breath.
'I'm a regular in a brothel, not so far from here.'
I thought I'm caught in a dream. It's me who is in control of my pussy. It's me who never loses the head.
The janitor got on fucking and said 'can you do the splits for me here on the desk.'
'What?'
'Saw you on the loggia.'
'How the hell, it's the fourth floor?
I spread the legs like he had suggested.
'Got a job to do in the house across the street. You are the sexiest woman in my life. Wait a second.'
I raised the head and saw out of the eye's corner that he had pulled the belt out his trouser. Another orgasm was at the doorstep. Breathing was difficult, thinking almost impossible. Shit, who fucks doesn't have to think. What the hell is he doing?
'Raise your ass,' he instructed me and pulled the leather belt under my butt.
'What are you ...' I groaned and had a second look.
The belt was under my butt, both ends covered the upper legs. The caretaker pulled, I slid closer to him, and he hammered me between the spread legs like a butcher.
I tried to find a grip somewhere, but my hands reached into the void.
My heart was pounding in the throat, I felt every single heartbeat in the carotids, tits flew back and forth. They hurt damn good; the lungs were flat and gasping for air.
My moronic horny pussy asked for more, and the caretaker gave her plenty of it. I couldn't control myself anymore, screamed, and shot into orgasmic heaven.
The rocket man between my legs moaned softly. Relieved, I felt his cock pumping deep inside of me what seemed endless. I lifted the head and saw a man with closed eyes who was in a frenzy. I laid down flat on the back again and stared at the ceiling with an empty gaze.
The room was tranquil as if waiting what would happen next.
'We just closed a fantastic deal,' I heard the janitor say. 'Let me take a picture of my cock in your pussy. I'm a regular in a crib house. Have fucked at least thirty women by now. As from today, you're my number one.'
He pulled the cock out, took the condom off, slipped it in his jacket pocket, put a broad grin on the face, and said, 'you're the second woman I've fucked properly in this house. The first one was 75 years old. She put two hundred on the table and asked me to fuck her doggy as often as possible
and doubled it for every orgasm she got. Good for me, she came as quick as you. Four hundred was already my salary. She changed position and rode me. The sight of her wrinkled skin was not so great. She asked me to massage her tits. I put my hands on her saggy but heavy tits, and we both cummed at six hundred. Ruth, if you need a fuck, call me. It's free for you.'
Saying this, he was almost entirely dressed. 'Do you mind sharing the pic of my cock in your pussy with friends?' He showed me the pic. 'It's alright,' I said.
That moment his phone rang, an urgent call he had waited for and answered. I slipped in the jogging suit, thanked him for his service and discretion, and let him to the door. That day we made very good respectful friends. He never mentioned our encounter, nor the den and kept his word. And so did I to Paul.
It was the first time ever, I didn't tell my husband about fucking another guy. Yet Paul noticed it. Weeks later, he said, I don't know what is wrong with the janitor. He is so polite and friendly he had never been before. I smiled and kept my secret to the day he revised this story.
In response, he looked at me dumbfounded, scratched the forehead, and burst out in laughter. He opened a drawer of his desk, took a small notebook, browsed through, and said, 'it was in springtime three years ago when we decided to broaden our sexual horizons. Assuming you've told me about all encounters, you've already fucked twelve guys. Besides your cousin, I have noted four women.' He blew me a kiss and said, 'In my wildest dreams I had never dreamed we would get this far. Ruth, you are a different woman now, much more attractive, very confident, and you fuck with full commitment, dedication, passion.'
I didn't want to dampen Paul's joy and generosity. Honestly, just between you and me, I would not even consider running a stat. My only interest 'outside the bedroom' is the diversity of sexual, physical experience. If you will, sports fucking. Maybe I'm a sex addict too. Paul almost pushed me in this way of life. I took a mental note to make his stats obsolete before long.
One day I returned home from work, opened the door, and heard male voices speaking. Paul and two clients discussed the job he was working on. I never saw the two before. They got up, introduced themselves very politely, and changed topic on the spot to the pictures. A cascade of compliments was the outcome, including wishes like wife or partner would be half as courageous and open-spirited as I am. And they didn't think for a split of a second, the photos would be indecent or offensive. It was the day I realized I'm on the right track.
Hand-selected friends thought the posters artistic, whereas the family pretended not to see them. Once, a craftsman, who doesn't know me, had to fix a radiator in the study, noticed the pictures, and stated boldly, this hottie was in a men's magazine, but couldn't name her right now. She is a helluva woman, he said. Wish I would meet her and underlined his statement by grabbing his dick. Paul told me the story later, and we were in the fits of laughter.
A vacation was due. I instructed the janitor what to look after, like flowers to water, loggia to clean, etc. Deliberately, I let him to the study and watched him discreetly. His eyes almost fell out when he saw my pics. He flushed, gathered his wits, and pretended clumsy not to see what was visible. We know he is a keen watcher of porn, a pic of a boobed woman is always on his phone (Paul, could have been you).
The janitor and I in a room, a guy who had undressed me a hundred times in his fantasy presumably. I must confess, a tingling sensation rushed thru my body and said, 'I don't mind when you look at the pictures, but I need you to promise, don't take a photo of the study. I'm not keen on seeing my face on the web.'
Beads of sweat stood on his forehead, upper lips, and shimmered in the light. I felt sorry for the poor guy, fetched a glass of water in the kitchen, sat down on the desk, and asked him, do we have a deal, no photos of my pics? 'Yes, sure,' he stumbled, 'you know I'm discreet, it's an important part of my job. I saw some men and women undressed in the house already, old people, however, one like you wasn't on the list.'
I should have left it at that statement, he gave me his word. But the player in me took over the further conversation, a player who found herself superior to the man. He emptied the glass with one gulp and said my boobs would look much better he had thought of. More often than not, he wished he would get a glimpse of my cleavage.
I liked his openness and honesty, got up, and said, 'let's close the deal, get your phone.' He pulled it out of a pocket and looked at me, puzzled. I must be nympholeptic, I thought, and said 'do what you always wanted to do, undress me, take pics of my tits, an avatar for your phone, but no face.' I never saw him moving so fast. He stepped in front of me, grinned like a horse, and unbuttoned the blouse slowly. He is almost my age, yet the way he proceeded told me that there can't be many women in his life. Every time he undid a button, he took pictures of my cleavage, and said, 'you are the first woman who encourages me to take pics of her boobs. I appreciate that. Hope I'm not forward. Do me a big favor and let me touch your tits.'
'Keep on going,' I replied, 'we just started' and pulled off the open blouse. The sight of my tits in the bra made the poor man visibly nervous, broke a sweat, even his hands were damp. He stared at my tits and stated, 'you always made me hard when I watched you jogging in front of the house. I love your skin-tight black jogging suit. Don't know what kind of bra your wear. Seems pretty tight for the big boobs. Love it to see the upper boobs wiggle. Some guys in the house admire your tits and wish you were bra-less.'
His openness and reflective nature appealed to me. I came across men who were imperious sometimes brazen; sweetheart, take your clothes off and let's fuck the brains out.
'Let's sweeten the deal,' I said, 'I'll be back in a minute,' went to the dressing room, doffed entirely and put on the black two-piece jogging suit. I was already on my way back when a pubescent lust came over me, the appetite to play. There was no time for the nipple pump, so I grabbed four rings instead, pulled the nipples, and put two on each. A glimpse in the mirror. Fantastic, and pulled the zipper closed. When I left the room, I noticed a forlorn condom in the drawer, grinned, and stuffed it in a pocket.
Back in the study, the janitor looked at me, and his lower chin fell almost on the floor. 'If you like, we can jog together now,' I said, 'but you told me, you're not in sports, got enough work to do. But I can jog on the spot.'
He watched my bouncing boobs and smiled. Slowly, very slowly, I pulled the zipper open. His face turned red, and when he saw my topless, he said, 'excuse me, I need the bathroom.'
'You know where to go, but if you're desperate for relief, there's a much better way,' I said, holding the condom in front of his face.
'What about your husband?' he asked. Before I could answer, he threw his initial shyness overboard, opened my zipper, and grabbed both tits.
'Don't worry, he will be back in an hour. Besides, we have a freakish agreement when it comes to fucking. Let's drop your pants before it's too late' and handed him the condom. He got rid of his jacket, opened the belt of the trousers, and dropped it at almost no time.
He is a tall guy, and so is his dick, thick at the base and narrow at the tip, a rocket penis. I didn't want him to kiss me, as most guys prefer to do. On the other hand, he is an opportunity to get banged by an unspoiled, fresh guy. Most likely, I will provide him the one and only fuck in his life. I undressed, sat down on the edge of the desk, spread the legs, and said, come closer. He was hairy like a bear. I took his massive dick and let it between the pussy lips. He didn't need any assistant and rammed it deep inside until his bones hit mine. The sudden penetration widened my vagina that I thought, it's going to explode. The thrust was so powerful that I lost balance and fell down flat on the desk. He starred at me in surprise, stumbled an excuse, but I cut him off, caught for breath, raised the legs, and held me around his waist. He fucked in a steady rhythm, banged on my bones, pulled the dick entirely out, and started again. The smacking sound of my wet pussy filled the room. I felt the juice running between my legs and dripping onto the desk. The caretaker drove me nuts. I didn't want to, cursed my damn pussy, and had an immense orgasm soon. Spasms made me shaking. I raised the head, lowered it, raised the belly, and back again. 'You're awesome,' he said and screwed me gentle and smooth. I'd like to try something else I was taught in a brothel once,' he continued.
'What? Brothel?' I stumbled, gasping for breath.
'I'm a regular in a brothel, not so far from here.'
I thought I'm caught in a dream. It's me who is in control of my pussy. It's me who never loses the head.
The janitor got on fucking and said 'can you do the splits for me here on the desk.'
'What?'
'Saw you on the loggia.'
'How the hell, it's the fourth floor?
I spread the legs like he had suggested.
'Got a job to do in the house across the street. You are the sexiest woman in my life. Wait a second.'
I raised the head and saw out of the eye's corner that he had pulled the belt out his trouser. Another orgasm was at the doorstep. Breathing was difficult, thinking almost impossible. Shit, who fucks doesn't have to think. What the hell is he doing?
'Raise your ass,' he instructed me and pulled the leather belt under my butt.
'What are you ...' I groaned and had a second look.
The belt was under my butt, both ends covered the upper legs. The caretaker pulled, I slid closer to him, and he hammered me between the spread legs like a butcher.
I tried to find a grip somewhere, but my hands reached into the void.
My heart was pounding in the throat, I felt every single heartbeat in the carotids, tits flew back and forth. They hurt damn good; the lungs were flat and gasping for air.
My moronic horny pussy asked for more, and the caretaker gave her plenty of it. I couldn't control myself anymore, screamed, and shot into orgasmic heaven.
The rocket man between my legs moaned softly. Relieved, I felt his cock pumping deep inside of me what seemed endless. I lifted the head and saw a man with closed eyes who was in a frenzy. I laid down flat on the back again and stared at the ceiling with an empty gaze.
The room was tranquil as if waiting what would happen next.
'We just closed a fantastic deal,' I heard the janitor say. 'Let me take a picture of my cock in your pussy. I'm a regular in a crib house. Have fucked at least thirty women by now. As from today, you're my number one.'
He pulled the cock out, took the condom off, slipped it in his jacket pocket, put a broad grin on the face, and said, 'you're the second woman I've fucked properly in this house. The first one was 75 years old. She put two hundred on the table and asked me to fuck her doggy as often as possible
and doubled it for every orgasm she got. Good for me, she came as quick as you. Four hundred was already my salary. She changed position and rode me. The sight of her wrinkled skin was not so great. She asked me to massage her tits. I put my hands on her saggy but heavy tits, and we both cummed at six hundred. Ruth, if you need a fuck, call me. It's free for you.'
Saying this, he was almost entirely dressed. 'Do you mind sharing the pic of my cock in your pussy with friends?' He showed me the pic. 'It's alright,' I said.
That moment his phone rang, an urgent call he had waited for and answered. I slipped in the jogging suit, thanked him for his service and discretion, and let him to the door. That day we made very good respectful friends. He never mentioned our encounter, nor the den and kept his word. And so did I to Paul.
It was the first time ever, I didn't tell my husband about fucking another guy. Yet Paul noticed it. Weeks later, he said, I don't know what is wrong with the janitor. He is so polite and friendly he had never been before. I smiled and kept my secret to the day he revised this story.
In response, he looked at me dumbfounded, scratched the forehead, and burst out in laughter. He opened a drawer of his desk, took a small notebook, browsed through, and said, 'it was in springtime three years ago when we decided to broaden our sexual horizons. Assuming you've told me about all encounters, you've already fucked twelve guys. Besides your cousin, I have noted four women.' He blew me a kiss and said, 'In my wildest dreams I had never dreamed we would get this far. Ruth, you are a different woman now, much more attractive, very confident, and you fuck with full commitment, dedication, passion.'
I didn't want to dampen Paul's joy and generosity. Honestly, just between you and me, I would not even consider running a stat. My only interest 'outside the bedroom' is the diversity of sexual, physical experience. If you will, sports fucking. Maybe I'm a sex addict too. Paul almost pushed me in this way of life. I took a mental note to make his stats obsolete before long.
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