The Mix-Up Ch. 01

"What a pig," she said to herself. She felt sorry looking at the overweight man and closed the blinds to discourage his frequent glances toward her apartment.

She wore a white tank top and new expensive dark blue yoga pants, which clung to her athletic ass like a second skin. As much as guys stared at her chest, she was most proud of her legs and ass. Years of soccer and cheerleading sculpted them into a mix of youthful perfection that she knew exactly how to use, often while wearing short skirts or dresses. A little arch of her back or sashay and any man she knew would melt.

Taryn pulled her top down her stomach, but it wasn't long enough to hide her navel ring. She'd spent five hours online trying to find clothes that fit, but on her body, even the ones that did blurred the line between appropriate and downright sexy. She knew she looked good. Every time she wore workout clothes in the gym, she noticed several faces turning away when she looked up.

Usually she ignored the attention, but today differed. The sun shone, and the birds chirped. Taryn felt alive! She strode to the apartment gym to a treadmill and within five minutes, her flawless skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. Whether it was a runner's high or what, she didn't care. Every stride built a smile on her face. She felt incredible. The stares didn't bother her at all - in fact, it was the opposite.

A salt and pepper haired man of 40 gazed at her from another treadmill, and their eyes met. He looked like a hot dad, far too old to be looking at her, but unable to resist the urge to anyway. He offered a subtle smile and increased his speed to impress her. Men.

Taryn daydreamed about her upcoming photoshoot - the travel, the hours of makeup, and meeting her representation in Chicago. It was all just so overwhelming. And the money! What would she do with $200,000? Looking up into the mirror, she realized she was beaming. Seeing her smile, the older man rolled up his sleeves to show off his biceps and glanced her way every tenth stride. She nearly laughed out loud at his childish flirting attempts. She'd always been repulsed by the idea of anyone even five years older than her... but today everything felt like a possibility. A little harmless teasing never hurt anyone, she reasoned.

She reached down into her bag for her water bottle, exposing generous amounts of cleavage. The straps of her tank top strained to contain her breasts, and she knew he was getting a view by the way his eyes widened. The man almost tripped at the sight and reduced the speed to a walk so he could gawk at her.

She hopped off the treadmill, fully aware of the attention she was getting. She smiled, putting her blonde hair in a ponytail. In the mirror she could see the 40-year-old scarcely walking anymore. His eyes burned holes in her ass as she bent down to stretch. She pushed her ass out the slightest bit, knowing full well what she was doing.

The material of her yoga pants stretched to cover her fit ass. Every warm-blooded man in the gym stopped and stared at the blonde 19-year-old. The older man was no exception, subtly slipping his wedding band off into his pocket. What a sleaze, she thought. Even so, she enjoyed the desperate look on his face, how he was willing to risk everything and do anything she wanted simply because she showed off her body a bit and flashed a smile. His desire was altogether pathetic and exactly what stroked her ego.

The scent of smoke began filling the room. All the speed changing on the older man's treadmill caused it to short out, sending sparks flying. It happened to be the problem one that broke constantly.

"Ahh! Help! Please help!" he yelled as it sped up to sprinter speed, leaving him clawing for the emergency stop button, but falling hopelessly behind. He tripped and the treadmill shot him off into a pile of yoga mats. A hush fell over the gym as a staffer rushed over to unplug the machine.

The salt and pepper haired man burned beet red as staff helped him up, and his revelry with the blonde teen broke. He threw off their helping hands and grabbed his head as they escorted him to medical help.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Lester Burns grumbled as his walkie talkie cracked to life, his supervisor telling him the problem treadmill needed more attention. The big ole boy spent the last several hours trying to look into Apartment 204, but the second he saw Taryn, she closed the blinds.

"Fuckin' piece of shit! Busting my ass all the time for those soy boys," he said under his breath. "Can't wait to knock out whoever broke it." Despite his words, it was all bravado. He needed the job because no one else would hire a repairman of his poor aptitude. He grabbed the walkie talkie with his grubby fingers.

"10-4 boss."

He grabbed his wrench and avoided eye contact with any of the bustling people in the gym, and instead he took his customary spot on the floor beside the treadmill, the bane of his existence.

The forty something CEO type returned with a sneer, nursing an ice pack on his head. "Can't you just fix the thing, already? I see you every day working on this piece of shit. And I was almost electrocuted!" Thinking Taryn was gone, his anger of looking foolish in front of her erupted in full force. She had gone to the water fountain and listened to the conversation, unseen behind a column.

"Sir, this uh- machine don't got enough juice to zap anybody," Lester said with a shrug, wiping his sweaty forehead with a rag. His gut made it hard to sit up and view who he talked to, so he laid there.

"If you paid the same attention to it that you do your lunch, I wouldn't almost be dead, asshole!"

With considerable effort, Lester finally sat up, eyeing the man.

"You're disgusting, how much do you weigh? 400? Or would the scale break trying to find out?" the man said. "The next time I come in here, that better be fixed, or I'm getting you fired!" He stomped off, slamming the door.

Taryn gasped at the hate directed toward Lester. No one deserved such vitriol, especially someone just doing their job. Her heart ached for him. Overweight or not, he was a human being who harbored hopes, dreams, and fears. She wanted to tell him a kind word and thought about her interaction with him the previous day. Even she had been short with him - did the handyman go through life with hateful interactions just because of his size? She felt terrible for him.

Lester simmered in a foul mood. Not just because of the jerk who berated him, but the last thing he wanted was one of the Soy Boys pounding a treadmill near him as he worked. He prepared to yell at whoever was there. Only after turning the wrench a few times did he look up and his mouth fall open. Every stride Taryn's generous chest bounced up and down, straining every bit of her tank top. It didn't make much sense or seem fair that she'd been gifted with a body like that, which seemed to be straight out of one of his porn magazines.

He wiped the line of drool off his face as he stared at her. If only she'd worn a skirt today... It would have barely covered anything from his angle, showing most of her athletic legs. Another inch or two higher, and her panties would be visible. He realized if he lay all the way down to work on the treadmill, he might be able to see right up her skirt!

The old sod did his best acting job, wiping his sweaty forehead and banging the wrench around. Mind you, the last thing on his mind was fixing the treadmill when she increased her pace, making her chest jiggle more and more. He gasped.

His dirty imagination was limitless, wondering about her panties. What type were they? Black lace and sheer? Or maybe red with a little bow on the back like he'd seen in his dirty mags. He craned his neck at the thought. Each time her rack bounced it felt like his heart might skip a beat. Blood surged to Lester's cock, and an intense urge welled within him to release the ratcheting pressure in his suffering balls.

The blonde teen reached back to adjust her ponytail, oblivious to the predicament of the repairman below. This had the effect of pushing her youthful bust out even further, eliciting a lustful grunt from Lester.

"Uhhh - fuck me!" It was all too much for him.

Imagine his surprise when the beautiful girl hopped off her treadmill and walked straight toward him! Time slowed down as he slicked back his sweaty hair, as if his flabby mess of a body wasn't apparent.

Of course, Taryn spotted Lester the second she'd returned in the room. He was hard to miss or not smell. She could see his desperate stares and chose to act as if she didn't notice. It was all an act to make up for her snippiness the day before and the cruel treatment Lester just received.

"You poor man, I'm so sorry he treated you like that," she said. "I think you do a great job on the equipment, and I use it every day!" Up close he was even harder to look at. His face was mottled red, and his pit stains had connected on the front of his shirt. She was careful not to breathe in too hard because of his wretched odor.

"Yeah, er, I do my best every day, ma'am," he said, trying to keep his eyes on hers and off her chest. He'd never seen such an angelic beauty up close before. "Just a man trying to earn his daily wage."

Taryn frowned. "Surely you have a manager to report this to?"

Lester's eyes dropped to her chest. They had to be DD's. And on such a slender girl - it hardly made sense. He realized she was staring at him expectantly. "Oh, yes, right, well actually I'm the manager," he lied, running his fingers through his hair again. "I -uh worked my way up to where I'm today."

"I can see you're trying very hard," she said, referring to his eyes staying off her chest. Lester didn't notice. He couldn't believe he was talking to such a beautiful girl; she made all the previous women he'd hit on look like cows. An awkward pause ensued. Lester fumbled the wrench in his sweaty hands.

"And what do you do?" he asked.

"I just signed my first modeling contract -"

"Mmm, 'course you did. Figured because of your big, uh, smile, ahem," he said, wiping sweat off his brow. In his mind he was charming the heck out of her, not the bumbling sweaty mess he really was. His eyes drifted lower to her toned stomach and the slight swaying of her navel ring whenever she talked.

Taryn had seen this type of behavior a million times before, and it wasn't lost on her that the big fella was getting excited.

"I saw you got a busted light, and that's uh, er, against safety regulations. I can fix it."

She found it creepy that he'd been staring that intently in her apartment and honestly didn't want him in her place. Even though the man was having a bad day, she needed to return to her workout. She smiled sweetly and told him she'd take care of it.

"Apartment 204, right?" Lester asked, and seeing her suspicious look at how he knew her apartment, he continued. "That's where my former lady love used to stay. She was a model like you." He pulled out a crinkled and suspiciously stained photo to show her. It was a magazine clipping of Cindy Crawford. He winked and brushed the remaining donut glazing off his rotund belly.

Not sure if he was lying or making a joke, Taryn nodded and looked back at the clock. His body odor was really getting to her, especially when the oscillating fan blew his stink around the gym. Taryn nearly laughed out loud at his pathetic display.

"Oh so you're a model, eh?" he asked, looking her up and down. "I ain't never seen one up close before."

"But you've seen them somewhere then," she said, impatient for the conversation to end.

"Yep, in my magazines, you remind me of some of my favorites," he said, his rotten smile making her want to gag. His tone creeped out Taryn, who clapped her hands and wished him a good day. What type of magazines was he referring to? The whole exchange was just bizarre. Lester's mouth hung open as the fit blonde sauntered off, each step showing her delicious ass in those tight yoga pants. He wanted to just sink his teeth into each cheek and not let go.

The handyman was so pathetic that Taryn waited until she was out of earshot to laugh out loud. Her stomach ached by how hard she giggled. What a silly, poor excuse of a man!

Her workout complete, she headed to the apartment tanning bed, which was unstaffed because of the staff who'd gone to accompany the irate 40-year-old to the main office. This left the surveillance TVs by the tanning bed unattended, which caught Taryn's eye. On one of the screens, it showed Lester rolling around on the floor trying to get up. She put her hand over mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Oh my god." She couldn't tear her eyes away.

Of course, Lester had no idea he was being watched. The large man struggled to get up and found the supply closet from the previous day. Bursting in, there was a sign on the vacuum that said, "YOU ARE ON CAMERA." He didn't care - he needed to take care of his stiffening bulge that he'd been dying to touch the last ten minutes. Hastily yanking down his pants, he leaned against the wall and groaned as he struggled to find his cock.

Taryn's mouth opened in shock as she watched him. While she was used to men bumbling around her, she couldn't believe how dirty Lester really was, jerking off in a supply closet only moments after speaking to her. Being a brand-new facility, its surveillance equipment was top notch and included audio so she could hear everything he said, which left her stunned.

"Fuckin' cocktease wants me, no way in hell not," he muttered, finally pumping his shaft, his huge balls almost ready to go off. "What I'd do for five minutes with her..." The thought had never really crossed his mind... to actually fuck Taryn. It was beyond his realm of comprehension. A girl with her looks, fucking him? No way in hell she would ever consider it, yet in his mind it was a possibility.

He thought of her shapely legs and how her fit ass jiggled when she walked away. He wanted to yank her yoga pants down, exposing her perfect backside and pushing her down on all fours. The thought made the man drool and soon a line of it ran down his chin. His fantasy continued as he worked his small cock.

"Just get behind her and give her what she wants," he growled, his hips nearly humping the wall. "Ahhh fuck! Such a damn sexy bitch." He imagined grabbing her long blonde curls and pulling hard enough to force her to arch her back, offering him her body to him in the most primal position. His huge balls thrust forward and slapped the wall with sickening splats.

Of course, the former prom queen was disgusted by the sight of the morbidly obese repairman jerking off to her. She didn't know whether to laugh or feel flattered by the effect she was having on him. She knew men found her irresistible and probably touched themselves thinking of her, but this was the first time she'd ever seen it happen. She was transfixed watching Lester hold his hand out, acting like he was pulling her hair. It was without a doubt the most pathetic thing she'd seen in her life. She absentmindedly fiddled with her navel piercing, brushing against her smooth stomach, unsure how to react to the lewd display as Lester grunted loudly from the closet.

"Oh yeah, you fuckin' hot piece of ass! Hmmm, bet you like getting pounded by a huge cock? Take it all up that pretty pussy, ughhh - ughhh!"

Not that she wanted to, but even squinting at the screen she saw no huge cock - in fact the tip wasn't even visible beyond his grubby fist. His breathing became increasingly ragged as he moved his hips more. He imagined swatting her youthful rump and making her moan, a glob of drool dripping onto the small of her lower back and the sheen of sweat covering her soft skin as she pushed back against him, urging him on to fill her body with his disgusting spunk.

In his mind, she reached back to massage his big testicles, each perfectly painted nail caressing him and urging the release of his pained balls. That was it for the dirty sod.

"Filthy slut, yeah take it just like that, mmm yeah!"

He felt like he might have a heart attack as he groaned and thrust his hips forward a final time, his swollen balls slapping against the wall. Torrents of cum spewed from his nuts, thick spurts coating everything around him, including soaking the vacuum cleaner again and sending wet blobs sliding down the wall.

"AHH! Ahhhhhh... ohhh fuck me," he grumbled as he fell back into a poor chair, nearly breaking it. "Freakin' hell that was good." It looked like a canister of glue exploded in the closet because globs of his nasty spunk dripped off every formerly dry surface.

Taryn's mouth gaped. "What the fuck..." She'd forgotten to use the tanning bed by watching the spectacle before her.

Lester knew he'd spent enough time in there and found his walkie talkie, which was soaked by his dirty juices. It beeped erratically and didn't respond when he tried to press the sticky buttons. His boss was going to kill him if he found out.

"Oh heck, Hell's bells," he said, lifting himself up and waddling away from the closet as fast he could.

Taryn returned to her senses, astounded by what she saw. He was SO disgusting. The gall of that pervert to touch himself so openly about her was maddening. But Lester was just a nasty old man, she figured. No need to ruin her day thinking about him. The teen remembered why she was there in the first place and enjoyed a long tanning session, leaving pleased with the bronze glow on her skin.

Walking back to her apartment, she passed the supply closet which was open with its light still on. Curious, she peeked inside. The paper sign "YOU ARE ON CAMERA" was a wrinkled, soaked mess on the floor, a victim of Lester's thrusts and subsequent eruption. The air hung stale and putrid. His body odor had a way of lingering in a way she'd never experienced in her life, forcing her to breathe through her mouth. Even then, she could almost taste his funk.

"Dear god," she muttered. It seemed like a gallon of his nasty seed erupted in the closet, leaving a sopping puddle over most of the floor. She felt terrible for whoever had to clean it up. And yet she was mesmerized that one man could pump out this much cum - it couldn't be natural. Maybe it was because Lester's huge size, she thought. But then again, his tiny dick was small enough she wasn't sure she'd even seen it.

Taryn turned to go and flicked the light off. But as she did, an unseen thick glob of cum on the light switch slid onto her manicured hand, making her squeal. She tried to shake it off, but all that did was fling droplets onto her legs and other hand, making a bigger mess. Being form fitting, it was only a matter of seconds before her yoga pants allowed the cum to seep in against her flawless skin. She held out her dripping hands as far as she could.

"Ew! Oh my god, what a day. Like seriously?"

At that moment, in her purse her phone rang with the ringtone she'd saved for Ford Models. "Watermelon Sugar" blared and every moment before she associated it with excitement, but now she dreaded it. Taryn frantically wiped her hands against the wall, which only smeared the dirty cum more. Sighing, she wiped it on her expensive yoga pants, soaking the fabric. His cum was like fucking honey! It got between her fingers, and no amount of rubbing her pants would remove that.

She tried answering the phone with her dripping fingers, but it was to no avail. With a revolted look on her face, the prom queen quickly sucked her fingers, taking Lester's cum onto her pretty lips and into her mouth. Only then was she able to answer her phone, with the sticky jizz now off her hands.

The British representative told her about some clothes that'd been delivered for her upcoming shoot - he told her to try them on and send pictures. He had no clue his new modeling it girl had the filthy cum of a sixty-year-old morbidly obese handyman in her mouth!