Confessions of a Cleaning Lady

Story Info
Alex does research at her new job.
3k words
4.41
49.6k
5
0

Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 04/18/2003
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

I needed this job. I needed it for so many reasons. For one, I could use some money. Being a poor graduate student had lost its romantic appeal long ago. I was tired of being out of money and wanting things. I was still young, in my prime, yet all I did was work on my dissertation and scrape by. My parents have been more than kind, helping with tuition, books, and the rent, but I needed something that paid more than two dollars an hour. I needed a dependable job with decent money, that would fit in with my school schedule. The added benefit of this job was that it would help me with my dissertation, "The American Male". Of course, the working title was much longer, but I hate to bore people. It is enough to say, this paper could possibly change the perception of men forever. I have discovered so much about men, including so many false beliefs held for centuries about the 'stronger' sex.

The position was a cleaning lady at a gym. The hours were great, 5AM until 9AM, then evening hours as I chose. The benefits were great too; more than minimum wage, club privileges, located near my hovel, AND no one would see me. Well, no one who counted. I would have hated for one of my professors or colleagues to see me cleaning shower stalls and folding towels. Luckily, my neighborhood was not one frequented by the university crowd.

My interview was scheduled for 7AM, and I was early. I wore my usual clothing, some worn blue jeans and a t-shirt announcing 'It isn't easy being a princess!'. I wasn't entirely sure what one wore to an interview for cleaning lady, but I felt dressing up wouldn't be necessary. Promptly at 7, I was led into the office by a very nice lady named Sue. The man behind the desk was about 40, slightly balding, with smudged glasses and a rumpled shirt. He didn't look like the sort who ran a health club, with his paunchy belly and pale, flabby arms. He told me to be seated and began asking questions, including some very personal things. Amazingly, he seemed to think the answers were going to come from my breasts, because he addressed them pretty frequently. Occasionally, he threw some information at my crotch also. I looked around the office as I answered. He actually had calendars of nearly naked women on the walls! What a pig!

After he undressed me with his eyes several times, he finally wound up the interview. I could see his hard tiny cock, pressing against his polyester pants, could see his little eyes narrowing with lust. Damn! I had really wanted this job! I knew I could never work for him. I stood to go, full of disgust for him and pretty much all men. Feeling a little vindictive, I pulled up my shirt, exposing my pretty breasts to him, pinching the rosy nipples, making them hard. I cupped them, massaged them, made tiny moaning sounds as I looked enraptured. He almost stopped breathing! His chubby little hand fell into his lap, and I saw his eyes start to close. I am not sure he even remembered that I was still there. I heard the zipper being opened and I pulled down my shirt and walked out, instructing his secretary to go right in.

She hurried into the office without knocking and let out a scream. Apparently, Pigman was busy pleasuring himself and didn't notice her! Tsk, tsk...how embarrassing for him!

The next day, my glee turned to dismay and I was feeling sorry for myself, for not getting the perfect job. Then the phone rang. It was Sue, from the health club, asking me back for another interview. When I hesitated, she laughed and promised there was new management and I would now enjoy working there.

Three days later, I was once again up early, preparing for my interview. This time, I decided to wear undies, just in case. When I entered the outer office, I could feel a difference. The reception area was now manned by a nice young man named Mark, according to his badge. He was in good shape, but not excessively so, and very polite. He offered me juice or coffee as I waited. Then, the inner door opened and Sue stepped out, smiling at me.

"Thanks for coming back, Alex," she said. "Please come in!"

I entered an entirely different world from just a few days ago. The office was now clean, the walls bare except for some very colorful prints. The desk was organized and the air was lightly scented with a peachy scent. More importantly, Sue now sat behind the desk. She was a pretty woman, in her 40's, with a trim, youthful figure. She had a lovely smile and was obviously a 'people person'.

"You did us all a favor, Alex," she began. "We had suspected that Fred was abusing his position, harassing women, but no one ever reported it. When I walked in the other day and caught him, 'redhanded', so to speak, he had little choice. He resigned immediately. Lucky for me, I have been made the new general manager! We are making changes here, trying to upgrade our image and our clientele. I know it is only a cleaning position now, but we are young and there are lots of opportunities for advancement. If you still want to work here, I welcome you aboard."

Happily, I accepted. Sue seemed very nice and I really did want the job. The paperwork went quickly and I was told to report to work on Monday morning, 5AM. As I was leaving, Sue cleared her throat.

"One more thing, Alex. You will be cleaning the showers and dressing rooms. Usually, they are empty at that hour, but we have occasional early birds. You are a really pretty woman. Just a suggestion....you might want to dress down just a little, to avoid attention. Just for your own protection, my dear."

All the way home, I considered this happy turn of events. I had a job! Steady money, insurance, free health club benefits, and maybe even a new friend. The best part was being able to observe men in their natural habitat, being themselves, giving me invaluable research material.

I didn't sleep well on Sunday; too excited about my new job, I guess. In the morning, I dressed in a stretchy, tight bra, which worked overtime in taming and flattening my full breasts. I also wore a large work shirt and baggy pants. I pulled my thick brown hair into a bun and settled a cap on my head. No makeup and large glasses were the completion of my 'disguise' as a plain woman. Looking in the mirror, I didn't even appeal to me!

Despite the early hour, Sue was there, looking fresh and pretty. We talked for a few minutes while she showed me around. I located the cleaning supplies, the various club rooms, and the dressing areas with attached saunas and showers. No one was working out yet, so we walked leisurely through the facility. It was quite impressive. I met other staff members, getting ready for a day of physical fitness. Sue explained my duties and then the perks. I got discounted meals at the health bar, had full use of the equipment, even my own locker! This was going to be wonderful. I recognized some of the other employees from school, which pleased me. I would get healthier, make new friends, have some ready cash at last, and work on my damn dissertation. I couldn't ask for more.

I began my day as I would many others. I cleaned the showers and dressing rooms, getting satisfaction from the cleanliness and good, fresh smell I left behind. As the time passed, various club members arrived and departed. After a few days, I began to know them, if not by name, then by the clothes they wore. There was Loud Flower Lady, Tight Blue Shorts Guy, and Santa Man. As the days passed, I looked forward to seeing our regulars, nodding hello, occasionally speaking for a moment. It was somewhat like an extended family, which I really enjoyed. My own family was so far away.

The employees were close too. Most of us were students at different levels in university, and had the drama of classes, papers and grades to bind us. We socialized together, never lacking for conversation. My life seemed pretty perfect and I looked forward to each new day.

I settled into a routine. I would arrive at 5 and head for the showers and dressing rooms. I picked up discarded damp towels, vacuumed and generally returned order to these areas. Then I would work my way down the hallways, ending in the huge indoor pool area. Here, I was happiest.

One thing that I truly anticipated each day was Red Speedo. He came in regularly, every morning, arriving at 5:30AM and swimming furiously and gracefully. He had several different workouts and rotated them, impressing me with his stamina and speed. I loved watching him and treated myself to a break each morning while he swam, sitting quietly nearby, just observing him. He was a thing of beauty, his trim body moving effortlessly through the blue water, never breaking his stroke, gliding smoothly. His body was tantalizing. He was tall and well-built. His red speedo fit him as if painted on, his skin glowing with health. His manly chest had a soft matting of brown hair, his back was muscular and smooth. I liked everything about him, from his powder blue eyes to his soft brown moustache. His arms and legs were long, his fingers elegant. He was always polite, smiling and nodding when he saw me. Not that he ever really saw me, but if our paths crossed, he was pleasant.

At that hour of the morning, there was only one other person in the pool. Tattoo Man. He always wore a maroon speedo, which complimented his toned body. He had an intricate, multi-colored tattoo on his right shoulder, earning his nickname. He was also tall, with dirty blond hair and soft brown eyes, his chest and upper back covered with curly brown hair. He worked out beside Red Speedo, matching stroke for stroke, lap for lap. Ah, heaven on earth! They didn't really seem to be friends, just two guys who enjoyed physical fitness and had the same time schedule. I usually waited until after their workout to move on, to clean the offices and store rooms in the pool area.

This routine worked fine for me. I moved quickly and efficiently, getting all my assigned tasks done in a timely manner. I continued to dress down, hiding my considerable assets in dowdy, loose clothing. I move unobtrusively through the gym, almost invisible.

Sue told me several times she was pleased with my work ethic and knew I was a reliable employee. Then she offered me a better position. I was pleased and flattered, but I just didn't want to change jobs. Right now, I had everything I wanted. And, in the back of my mind, I knew I would never get to see Red Speedo, or RS, as I thought of him, again. So I declined and continued with my perfect daily routine.

Of course, things don't always run smoothly. One morning, I went to my car, my sweet first car, and it wouldn't start. I was baffled. I loved my car and kept it in good condition, full of gas, and clean. How could it betray me like this? I sat for endless minutes, wondering and worrying. It wasn't that far to the gym, but it was the dead of night and the streets were deserted. I debated in my mind, but my work ethic won. Loading my stuff in a big bag, I started off down the street, enjoying the cool night air. The one nagging thought I had with each step was that I might miss RS doing his workout. That saddened me, it was the highlight of my day!

When I got to work, I apologized to Sue, promising it would never happen again. I hurriedly gathered my supplies and moved to the dressing rooms, intent on catching up and getting back on schedule. As I entered, I heard male voices. Apparently, I was later than I thought. Quietly, I moved closer to the showers. There were Red Speedo and Tattoo Man, in adjoining stalls, talking about their workouts and how good they felt today. I had missed it! I began to walk away, I really tried, but I couldn't move. Instead, I took a step closer. Red Speedo was standing under the spray, his eyes closed, allowing the warm water to wash over his body. He still wore his suit, and for a minute, I whimsically thought maybe it was painted on. As I stood there, he reached down and hooked the waist, pulling the strings and loosening the suit. He pulled it down his slim hips, dropping it to the floor.

Then, in a breathtaking move, he bent over and retrieved it. I was rooted to the spot. He held it under the spray, rinsing it, then wringing it out. He hung it on the chest-high common wall between himself and Tattoo Man. If I had thought he was beautiful in that suit, I was breathless now. The fine matting of hair on his chest narrowed down to a very deliberate arrow, pointing to the most delicious cock I had ever seen. Even in a semi-erect state, it was impressive. Now, I was glad for my invisibility. I stood there, my mouth open, drool gathering, and watched my RS as he cleansed himself. He pressed the button, releasing liquid soap into his hands, and lathered his body. All of his body. Every inch of his body. He had elegant hands and he moved them over his flesh knowledgeably. His eyes closed again as he continued his shower. Beside him, in the next stall, Tattoo Man was following the same routine. I was pleased to see his cock was also magnificent. It was thick, a bit shorter, and already quite erect. I leaned against the wall and smiled. To think, I used to feel the best part of the day was watching them swim! This was so much better!

Tattoo Man was very busily washing. And his focus seemed to be much less broad-ranged. In fact, his whole focus seemed to be the engorged flesh in his fist. He washed it furiously, bubbly suds flying in the stall. He leaned against the far wall, his eyes shut, his mouth tight, as his practiced fingers flew up and down the hard shaft. Suddenly, thick, white come shot from his cock, and a deep grunt filled the air. I was suddenly aware of my pussy, wet and aching. As I watched, Tattoo Man continued to shoot, each spurt a little less intense. Finally, he collapsed against the wall, drained. My God!

In his own stall, RS continued washing, now working on his legs and feet, his engorged dick swinging free as he bent down. This was heaven! He seemed to have not heard the explosion next to him, or perhaps he just preferred to be oblivious. I was shaken. My pussy was throbbing. It was probably the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Then I was smiling, silently thanking my car for not starting, thanking the fates that led me to change my routine and stumble into this most exciting performance.

Now, I had to regroup. It was fun, even tantalizing, watching my boys swim each morning. Sure, they had nice bodies, great styles, amazing stamina. But this, watching my two men shower and touch themselves, this was something I had to see more often. More often... as in every day. Even twice a day if I could manage it. I have always loved watching a man touch himself. This was so exciting. Seeing their hands on their own cocks, fondling and stroking, with no self-consciousness, was nearly overwhelming. I continued to watch until they rinsed off, both stepping from the showers and reaching for a towel. Then I slipped away, unseen as usual.

The next day, I varied my routine. I made sure I had cleaned the showers and then moved to the pool, cleaning the offices while they swam, not taking my break, but working through their swims. I could still observe them, but I didn't want to waste valuable minutes now when in just a little while, I could be standing in the shadows of the showers, watching them get clean and 'relaxed'. I wondered if Speedo would ever find the need to release his tensions, if I would ever be able to hear his cries of delight as he erupted. I didn't have to wait long for the answer. As I crept into the shower area, I was just in time to see the speedos drop to the floor and watch the men rinse them and hang them on the common wall. Both had raging erections. Sighing happily, I leaned against the wall, sure I blended into the background, unnoticed.

Today, Tattoo Man initiated a conversation as they showered. I could hear their voices, hear the discussion of girlfriends and workouts and occasional sexual references. From my vantage point, I could also see furtive glances, eyes straying over the common wall, moving hands observed. If they were little boys, I would say they were showing off for each other. They stood in the warm spray, chatting and laughing, while their soapy hands continued stroking and washing. The men had to be aware of the situation, but both acted very casual. Then Tattoo Man lost control. the hand that had been slowly stroking now became lightning fast and his breath grew short. Again, I heard the guttural cry and saw semen flying through the air. He continued stroking, slower now, until he sank against the wall, depleted. Today, Red Speedo gave up all pretense of ignorance. He moved closer to the wall and beheld it all, his eyes wide when the come exploded. I continued to observe, waiting, but again, Speedo just finished his shower and wrapped in a towel. I thought it was a waste of a beautiful cock. The towel tented over him as he walked to the dressing rooms. He was followed by Tattoo, looking very satisfied.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
Share this Story

Similar Stories

The Pregnant Teen Maid Desperate and pregnant, Michelle takes work as a maid.in Fetish
Oh Baby! What a Sitter! He was her sitter. Now he needs one, and gets something more.in Erotic Couplings
A Taste for Asian Pussy A henpecked husband finds comfort in an Asian whore.in Erotic Couplings
Tipping the Room Service Boy A room service delivery boy earns wonderful unexpected tip.in Loving Wives
The Busty Babysitter John has it bad for his top heavy young babysitter.in NonConsent/Reluctance
More Stories