The Part-Time Job

Mitch was a happy guy. His thoughtful financial planning had allowed him to retire early. Now, as a 56-year-old man, he both looked and felt good. He and his wife had divorced and parted ways amicably three years prior to his retirement and his two sons were grown men and living fruitful and successful lives in different states.

As an adult, Mitch knew the importance of taking care of his body as well as his mind and his finances. He exercised daily, enjoyed running and cycling and was no stranger to cross training classes. His physique was muscular and defined and he looked distinguished whether in a suit and tie or a speedo.

In addition, he had a lot of friends at his local gym and always felt comfortable in the locker room. Confidence exuded Mitch and he could, at times, be a bit of an exhibitionist as he strolled naked from his locker to the gang showers with his long, circumcised penis swinging freely between his legs. From time to time he would catch a glimpse of himself in one of the full length mirrors in the locker room and think: "Not too shabby, Mitch!"

Although Mitch liked the term "retired" he felt he needed something to do in addition to his exercise routine and his passion for a good book. So, he perused the help wanted ads on various sites until he came across something interesting. It was a position as a custodian at a nearby small community college. Also, it was a part time position (which he preferred) and the hours were in the late evening (10 pm--1 am, Monday -- Thursday). The pay wasn't too abysmal and he could put what he earned toward a new bike.

So Mitch completed the online application and sent it off. Two days later his phone rang and, after a phone interview, he had the job. He would start the following Monday.

On Monday evening he arrived at the Maintenance Office a full hour before his shift was to start. He wanted to look professional and ready to work. A handsome young man appearing to be in his early to mid-twenties entered the office and introduced himself as Serge. Serge told Mitch that he was the night time supervisor and Mitch would be under his direction. Mitch much preferred the term "supervisor" over boss especially when the "boss" was clearly half his age.

Serge was soft spoken but direct. He welcomed Mitch with a firm handshake and Mitch took note of his large hands wondering if that might correspond to other parts of his anatomy.

The supervisor explained how they would work as a team and then showed Mitch what areas he would be in charge of. He explained that Mitch would be cleaning two large hallways, a small auditorium and the men's locker room. Serge would be cleaning rooms and offices in the administrative building across the parking lot. Since it was his first night, Serge would be by from time to time to check in on him and see if there were any questions.

Mitch got to work immediately. He liked to clean as he felt a sense of accomplishment as he worked. As he was cleaning the shower room in the men's locker room he stopped for a moment to go through the shower room door which led to the pool. While he stood there looking at the pool he wished he had more opportunities to swim as it would complement his other cardio workouts.

When Serge came by later to check on his progress, Mitch floated the idea about using the pool during his nightly 20 minute break time. Serge immediately nixed the idea citing insurance and safety concerns. Mitch tried to point out that he was a good swimmer and...but Serge cut him off and simply said that it would not be permitted. As he left the locker room he said he trusted that Mitch understood and, as his supervisor, he expected him to comply with the rules.

While Mitch understood, he didn't like taking "orders" from the young man with the beautiful blue eyes. Besides, what Serge didn't know certainly wouldn't hurt him. He would be in and out of the pool before his youthful supervisor ever had any idea. And doing laps would be great for his workout regimen.

The next night Serge, who felt that Mitch was a very independent worker, told him that he was on his own and Serge would get started with his own work. Mitch got to work systematically and rapidly cleaning the hallways. He could work fast, yet thoroughly when he put his mind to it.

Once the men's locker room was in order, Mitch decided that it would be the opportune time for some laps. He grabbed a towel from the towel table, selected a locker near the shower room, quickly undressed to his Hanes briefs and then headed for the pool.

When he reached the shower room he took off his briefs and hung them on a hook along with his towel. "No need for a swim suit when the building is empty and closed," he thought. He saw himself in the mirror by the pool door and approved of what he saw. With his right hand he lifted up his long penis and let it drop. Chuckling, he headed to the pool.

As he did his laps, Mitch kept an eye on the big clock on the wall. After he had stretched his time to 35 minutes he decided it was time to exit. He strolled through the door to the shower room and turned on the warm spray. He had forgotten about the problem of chlorine smell so he wanted to try and wash that off his body before he saw Serge again.

When he finished his shower, he grabbed his towel from the hook where he left it. As he dried his hair he had a strange feeling that he was being watched. Turning around he saw Serge sitting on a bench near the shower room.

At first, Mitch was startled but he decided not to be apologetic so he simply said hello and continued drying off. Serge stared at him and said: "Apparently, you don't listen very well." Mitch laughed and explained that it was just a quick swim. He was also aware that he was naked in front of a clothed Serge and he felt comfortable showing off his muscular physique as well as his ample manhood.

As he finished drying himself, the naked Mitch walked to where Serge was seated and, standing quite close to him said: "I was just using my break time to get a bit of exercise. As you can probably see, I like to stay in shape." He then turned his back, giving Serge a view of his firm, round ass. Walking back to the row of hooks, Mitch hung up his wet towel and then put on his white Hanes briefs.

Mitch returned to the locker that contained his clothes and was surprised by what he saw. The locker now had a combination lock on it. He looked at Serge and said: "What's this, sport? Your idea of a joke?" Serge said nothing but he did stand up to face the cocky Mitch.

In a half laughing voice Mitch said: "C'mon. I need to get dressed and finish my work." As he spoke, Serge quickly circled around him. While he did so he firmly grabbed Mitch's left arm and swiftly brought it behind his back. With lightning precision he grabbed a looped nylon packing strap from his back pocket and rapidly placed it over Mitch's wrist.

Caught off guard Mitch tried to pivot, but his feet were still wet and he slipped on the floor. While he was off balance Serge grabbed his right arm and with a few fast movements had successfully secured Mitch's hands behind his back with the nylon strap.

Confused and dazed, Mitch tried to steady himself on the wet floor. He had some help because Serge, who was directly behind him, wrapped his arm around Mitch's taut waist. With his right hand he pushed Mitch the next few inches toward the long bench in front of the row of lockers. Then, in a lightning fast move, Serge lowered himself onto the bench bringing the hapless Mitch squarely over his two knees. Mitch's stomach and chest landed on the bench with a thud temporarily winding him. His bare feet dangled in the air.

As Mitch caught his breath, he suddenly came to terms with his most precarious position. His hands were secured behind him, feet unable to reach the floor for any type of traction and Serge's arm held him firmly in place at the waist. "What the hell?" Mitch barked, his voice echoing in the empty locker room.

Serge responded: "I had a feeling that you might try to bend the rules. I was also hoping I was wrong but it appears that I wasn't."

Mitch tried to twist himself off of Serge's lap but Serge's grip was too tight. Turning his head a bit he eyed Serge and said: "Let me go, you son-of-a-bitch!"

With the fingers of his right hand Serge snapped the waistband of Mitch's Hanes briefs and said quietly: "You are in no position to be name calling. Also, it looks like you need to go shopping for some new underwear. These briefs have seen better days." As he spoke he ran his index finger under the leg band precariously close to Mitch's testicles. "And," Serge continued, "the waistband is faded and a little frayed." He then put his index finger in a small hole as if to prove his point.

Fearful of the answer, Mitch asked: "What are you going to do?"

Serge said: "Well, since you chose to behave like a child I am going to treat you as such."

Mitch understood all too well what that meant and tried again to free himself but with his wrists secured and his feet dangling above the floor he just could not get the necessary traction. "You bastard!" he yelled.

Serge was silent for a moment. Then, in a slow and steady voice he said: "I was going to let you keep a little of your dignity." As he spoke he snapped the worn waistband of Mitch's briefs. "But now," he continued "I have decided not to. Now, let's get your shorts down." Placing his fingers inside the waistband of the Hanes briefs Serge pulled them down exposing Mitch's muscular ass.

Mitch gasped and again lashed out: "You bastard!"

Serge simply responded: "You are not helping your case." He then reached under Mitch's belly and, grabbing the waistband, pulled it in one long tug. His hand brushed against Mitch's flaccid penis in the process. Squirming, Mitch yelled "Stop!" But the shorts had already cleared Mitch's knees. With one final tug, Serge brought them over Mitch's dangling feet and then placed the briefs on the end of the bench.

The stunned Mitch now lay helpless and naked over Serge's lap. For his part Serge could not help but admire Mitch's muscular ass. It was white, hard and quite firm with just a trace of hair in the crack. Soon Serge would add some color to those white cheeks.

To be continued...