Have a Nice Day!

A warm summer zephyr whips its way joyfully down the Terrace. It lifts skirt and coat hems in voyeuristic delight. I adore this time of year, and from my vantage point up here, I am queen. Most dismiss me as invisible in my shapeless clothing, with my nametag and cap that proclaim the company's name: "Krystal Kleen Windows". I abhor bad spelling, but I am an employee; who am I to tell my employers they are stupid?

I may be a window cleaner, but I am no fool. I know they do not see me. Not really. I am invisible, less than human, 'untermenschen' to them. But I care not. I own them in my own way. I know who conducts illicit meetings, illicit transactions and illicit affairs. I see all. I am a watcher of their lives; these Armani and Donna Karan-clad grey people.

With that warm breeze gently rocking my platform, I work with steady grace on the windows. It is a thoughtless effort that leaves me plenty of time for thinking...and watching.

I have a new partner in crime today. A rather good looking man by the name of Julian. Well, I think that is his name. I am terrible with names. It could easily have been George and I would not know. My last? Well, he couldn't keep up the pace. Quite undeveloped in his skills. Sad, really.

So here I am sponging the twentieth floor windows of the Richthoffer building with my partner, whose name might or might not be Julian. I was rinsing off the suds when the occupant of the office appeared, a glorious woman, tall and slender with Pre-Raphaelite curls, clad in expensive black wool. And with her was a handsome fellow, hair perfectly appointed and his suit, neatly pressed and tidy in these beginning hours.

I watch as she slams the guy against the door, hard enough for me to hear through the glass, and kisses him hard on the mouth, dragging his jacket off his shoulders and pressing her groin against his.

I cannot help but smile as I watch, and my voice is unfamiliar to me as I call to my partner. It holds a huskiness that is not normally there, a 'come hither' quality that can catch a man by the groin and does not let go with its red tipped long fingernails and soft tantalizing fingers.

"S'up?" he asks, his drawl caught by the wind and whipped away as his jaw drops open, "Holy..."

Men. Show them a porno and they get all slack jawed and glaze eyed. Although, my own baby blues were wide behind the black wraparound sunglasses that obscured. There was a soft 'splat' as a soaking cloth hit the deck of the rig. I looked at it in some amusement, and at Julian's face.

Things had raised several degrees indoors. His leg was between hers, and she was rubbing herself insistently. Their tongues dueled impressively and his hands were investigating places that might have got him slapped in junior school, but seemed most welcome here.

"Well," I drawl idly, sneaking a glance at Julian, "Glad someone is having fun." A glance downward revealed that my rig mate was having a bit of fun too. The sponge he had been soaping the windows with had fallen to his feet with a wet splat, coating the left shoe with foamy bubbles. I lick my lips as a rather delicious thought comes to mind.

Our uniform consists of a warm, windproof jacket that zips in front, and really attractive waterproof pants. The whole effect resembles the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, but it keeps me dry. I reach for the zip that does up the front and slide it down so the curve of my breasts shows in the V. I wear a bra beneath these jackets, not much else. Summer is too nice to overdress.

I step in front of Julian, breaking his eye contact with the scene on the other side of the glass, and reach for his own zipper. I lick my lips again, this one more calculated. Sure enough, his eyes follow the red tip of my tongue as it moistens the soft pillow of my lower lip. He stills, like a bunny caught in the headlights of an oncoming car...hell, make it a truck. I slide the zipper down and find that he wears a plain white t-shirt under his jacket. I slide my hands across his chest, smoothing across the rather impressive display of muscle. This boy works out. Nice. I love a well toned man. I look up at him, only needing to tilt a few degrees, his eyes are at the level of my forehead, but certainly aren't checking out the freckles of my nose. He is well and truly focused on my breasts.

"Touch them," I lean forward and whisper huskily into his ear. With pleasure I witness a rash of goose bumps appear on his neck, and as a reward I lick his neck.

I feel the cool, rough skin of his fingers trace the silken smoothness of my breasts. There is a faint tremble in them as I place a kiss at the base of his throat. I can feel his pulse through my lips.

"Tell me. What are they doing?" I ask, as my tongue tastes the faint salt of his skin, drinking in his scent, a glorious combination of sunshine, a hint of citrus aftershave and the building musk of arousal.

"She..." his voice catches in his throat, and he has to clear it, "She has her hand down the front of his pants, his head is thrown back and she is kissing his bare chest."

"Mmmmm, like this?" my fingertips, still steady, slides the zipper all the way down and releasing it, I skim the elastic of the pants, sliding my own fingers within, and I demand another answer, "Does he look like he is enjoying it?"

Julian can do barely more than nod, as my fingers encircle the hardness within, and trail upwards teasingly.

"What is she doing now?" I do not bother to look behind me, I just wait, slowly pumping with my hand, the other exploring the musculature of his back. A blast of wind rocks the platform and plucks my hat from my head, causing the locks of brown hair to tumble downward. I do not miss a beat.

"She..." he gasps, his eyes closing.

"Keep your eyes open or I stop..." I lean close and whisper again, my hand stilling. I am such a tease. His eyes snap open as I expect, "What is she doing?"

"She is kneeling," his eyes are locked on the scene, "Taking him in her mouth. Sucking on him." He looks down at me with surprise in his eyes, as I disappear from his line of sight, to kneel. The rig rocks gently in the wind. I lower the waistband of his pants and gaze upon him with slumberous eyes. Not bad at all. Better than I expected. I look up at him.

"Keep your eyes on them and tell me what they are doing," I demand, as I grasp his heavy cock in one hand and bring my lips forward to place upon its tip a drawn out kiss. My lips part then to take him deep. I can feel his hand slide to the back of my head, clutching the waving strands of my hair. Not pulling me close, just holding. Whilst my right hand clasps the base of his hardness, my left steadies myself on his thigh.

And I start to give him the best head of his life, twenty stories above the ground, while the wind blows around us creating a heady unsteadiness to the act.

"Ohhhh," a low moan escapes his lips, and his hands clutch in my hair. I expel him from my mouth, I can taste he is about to cum.

"What is she doing?"

He stares at the window with glazed eyes, "On her desk, he is sliding into her from behind."

"Well then, we are falling behind," I push up to stand, leaving his hard cock pulsing wetly against his lower belly, the tip leaking semen. I slide my fingertips into my waistband and push downward, revealing that I wore little more than a wisp of maroon lace. I could hear a low sound come from his lips. I kick the pants aside, and turn to face the window, placing my palms on the cool glass, my eyes falling on the woman and man within as they ground against one another.

"Hurry, lest they win," I murmur.

His shaking fingers slide into the elastic of my panties and whisks them down my legs. The cool air caressing my skin wrought goose bumps on the curved flesh. He steps close, I can feel his broad chest enveloping me, but I lean forward to give more access. I can feel the heat of his arousal pressed against my buttocks. I can feel him shift, then the tip of his cock as it presses against my opening. With bare effort, he slides within and I let out a low moan as he fills me, stretching me with every encroaching inch. A gasp on his part.

I straighten and feel his cock twitch within me. His hand splays across my belly to draw me hard against him as he begins to thrust. My head drops back and my eyes are heavy lidded as they study the man and woman within. She was pushing back against him hard, riding him as much as he was pounding into her. He leaned over her back, and one hand steadied her hip as the other toyed with a breast. I could not see her face and her hair was a tumbled mess, but oh my, was she enjoying that. That much I could tell.

Julian was breathing hard then, his hot breath caressing my neck. I place one palm on the glass to steady myself, and my other hand clutches at his hip, as my body arches and shifts to his thrusting rhythm.

"Don't stop...don't stop!!" I gasp out, as his hand finds my breast.

"Oh God...oh God," he barely catches his breath.

I can't help smiling. He won't help you, love. In fact, I am sure he would not approve. I watch the efforts being doubled within, and my eyes twinkle. I reach and grasp Julian's backside, my fingertip just tickling his anus.

"Faster...harder..." I urge, my breasts bouncing, the pressure was intense. My hand clenches around him and on the window. The woman had her head thrown back, no doubt straining not to make noise. With the thick windows, I did not have the same strictures. I cried out as my orgasm hit me with all the subtlety of a Mack truck, my walls tightening around him as he thrust once....twice...thrice and came hard. For a while, all I felt was incredible heat and only saw white lights. I could feel his arms come around me and support me as my knees weakened. My eyes closed and I turned my head into his neck and kissed the sweat shined skin.

The woman was just cumming then.

"We beat them. Nice work," I drawled, and straightened so he slipped out of me.

"My pleasure, ma'am," comes the deep chuckle. For a few moments I focus on finding my clothing. Zippers are re-zipped, pants pulled up, hair neatened. I look into the office after those few moments. The woman is standing close to the window, with him nowhere in sight. She breathed on the window and quickly scribbled the words:

"How was he?"

I replied in kind, "Fantastic. You?"

"Same." Another breath, "Next week?"

I nod my assent and press my lips to the glass.

Another breath from my side.

"Have a nice day."