My Dirty Janitor Book 4: The Second Coming of Ginny's Chinning: An Oral Sex Adventure

by Toni Mozzie

  My Dirty Janitor

  Book Four: The Second Coming of Ginny's Chinning

  Toni Mozzie

  This book contains descriptions of explicit sex. All characters in this book are 18+

  My Dirty Janitor Book 4: The Second Coming of Ginny's Chinning (An Oral Sex Adventure)

  Copyright: 2017 Toni Mozzie

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For mature audiences only 18+

  Bonus! My Dirty Janitor Book 3: Spicy Sweat at the end of this book. (It doesn’t need to be read first, both stories can stand alone.)

  Sign up for Toni Mozzie’s newsletter and receive information on future releases, promotions, sneak peeks and giveaways for this author only: http://eepurl.com/c0D6ur

  Or follow on Twitter: @tonimozzie

  More details about the author at the end of this book.

  Chapter One

  Ginny had a hard time concentrating. For the past three days she couldn’t stop thinking about the janitor she’d encountered at the subway station. She’d been back there a few times, naturally enough, because she used the subway to commute to work, but last night she went back around closing time, hoping to see the man who had made her come like no other man ever had. He wasn’t there, and she made sure. She waited until closing time.

  Tonight she would do the same. She knew this was insane. She was acting like a crack addict, waiting for her dealer. It was pathetic. She didn’t even know the guy’s name. If she didn’t find him tonight, she was considering putting an ad on craigslist, but she feared that that might tip off other women. This was why she was also holding off on telling Laura, her best friend.

  This time there was a janitor, but it was not her janitor. This guy was in his forties, balding and sporting a beer gut. He was pushing his cart jammed with cleaning supplies out of the men’s room.

  “Excuse me, I’m looking for the janitor who was working here a couple nights ago,” Ginny asked.

  The janitor studied her with a sardonic expression. “Why?”

  “I lost something on the subway, and he said he would keep an eye out for it. I lost it when he was working here that night.”

  “Well, good luck ever getting it back, whatever it was. The subway is not kind to missing property.”

  “I know, but do you know where I can find that janitor?”

  “No. I’m the janitor for this station, but I was sick a couple nights ago. When did you say it was?”

  Ginny told him. “Four nights ago.”

  “Yeah, I was sick. I have no idea who they got to replace me. Probably the same temp agency as always.”

  “He never said he was a temp.”

  He grinned. “They never do, do they, honey?”

  “But he said he used a special toilet paper that was gone in fifteen minutes.”

  “Look, lady, if you have a complaint about the toilet paper, take it up with management. I put out what they give me.”

  Ginny was barely listening. Finding this man was not going to be as easy as she’d first thought. “Okay, so where can I find the person who hired him?”

  The janitor looked her over. “Boy, you really need a janitor, don’t you?”

  Ginny ignored the comment. “Or should I call customer service?”

  He was non-pulsed by her silly threat. “I don’t know if they’ll be able to help you. I think it’s some private cleaning company that comes in whenever the need arises. A bunch of college kids. They do lots of temp gigs. Jesus, what was the name of that company. Something to do with tomcats, or was it bobcats?”

  “Do you know where I could find them?”

  “What, do I look like I work at a booth for Google? Ask them and tell them you’re looking for a cleaning company with cats. Google will find it.”

  Ginny thanked him and left. Part of her wanted to go back and push the janitor onto the tracks so he wouldn’t be able to work. Maybe that would get her janitor back.

  When she got home, she did as the janitor had suggested. She found one company: Tomcat Cleaners.

  She went to their website. The subway janitor was right. They were college students working as cleaners to put themselves through college. They were pricy, but looked professional. There were no photos of the cleaning staff though.

  The next day, she called the phone number.

  A man answered. “Hello, Tomcats’ Cleaning, how may we be of service?”

  The voice sent a shrill thrill up Ginny’s spine. How could they be of service?

  The voice, however, was not that of the janitor she’d encountered in the subway station.

  “Hello, I would like to get in contact with one of your cleaners.”

  “A janitor. In regards to what?”

  “It’s a personal matter,” Ginny said. She didn’t want to get her guy in any trouble.

  “Oh, well, I’m not allowed to give out any personal information about our employees, especially over the phone and to strangers. You understand, I’m sure.”

  Ginny’s mind raced. “I understand, but I lost something, and he said he would look out for it. I was wondering if maybe he had found it.”

  “Found what?”

  “Something I lost on the subway four nights ago. I was a little tipsy, and it was late. The last train, actually.”

  “How do you know you lost it on the subway? If it’s lost, it could have been lost anywhere. In other words, if you knew where it was lost, then it wouldn’t be lost, would it? Or at least not so lost.”

  Ginny frowned. She sensed this guy was playing with her, like a cat plays with the mouse while it decides if it’s hungry or not.

  “I had it with me when I got off the train.”

  “And what was this infamous ‘it’ that you lost?” The voice was deep, the words pronounced slowly, with a sniff of sarcasm.

  Ginny hadn’t thought that far ahead. “A jacket.”

  “And why would he know where it is?”

  She didn’t understand why he didn’t understand her.

  “Look, Miss, I don’t understand. You say you had the jacket when you got off the train. Then you went to the restroom I assume and lost your jacket there? Then you asked the janitor to look for it where? I mean, how would he not be able to find it, if the place you’re asking him to find it at is the place where you lost it, and I still don’t understand when you could have lost it, which makes me wonder if you lost it and now that I think about it, no I believe you, you have lost it.”

  Why was he being an ass? “Look, I just wanted to ask him about it. Is there any way I can get in contact with him?”

  “Nope. If you have a complaint then I can take your name and number and we can try to resolve any issues you have and get back to you or direct you to those who could serve you best. But if you just want personal data for some vague story about losing a jacket, then I’m sorry, we cannot help you. Try calling the public transportation authority’s lost and found. Maybe they found the jacket. All our janitors are instructed to hand in any items they find to the proper authorities, qualified and trained to accept such lost items, so if it�
��s been found, they’ll have it, all safe and sound and found.”

  Ginny punched the ‘end call’ button on her phone. The guy made her so pissed, she felt like screaming. She would go mental if she kept hanging out at the subway station, looking for her janitor. Anyway, he wasn’t likely to return there any time soon.

  She went through the entire website looking for any information, or even a photo of her janitor. There was no employee information and the ‘about’ page contained a generic mission statement and customer satisfaction guarantee. The only lead she could find were three reviews from three companies that had used their services.

  Two were in parts of town that were not convenient to get to. The other was not too far from her. It was a small mall with a food court. Apparently, this company cleans the mall’s food court exclusively and the property management had given a rave review.

  She decided to head over to confront the janitor there and coerce him into telling her about her janitor and where she could find him. Of course, her pulse raced at the thought that her janitor might be there at this moment. She thought her chances were good. How many employees worked for this cleaning company anyway if it was just some college students working their way through school? If her janitor wasn’t working there, she was confident that whoever was would know her man, and once she showed them she wasn’t a threat, she was sure she could at least get a name.

  She waited until closing before she arrived at the mall. It was a cool, late afternoon, and the food court was practically empty. All the restaurants were closing, with their crews cleaning up.

  She came casually, dressed in snug blue jeans and her ‘missing’ jacket, her long thin black hair tied in a tight ponytail.

  She beelined it for the restrooms and saw a cleaning cart blocking the doorway to the ladies’ restroom, and her heart leapt. Had she found him? Filled with desire, she thought nothing of wiggling past the cart and into the restroom.

  Once inside, she froze. A woman was moaning in one of the stalls, its door closed.

  Her janitor was not alone.

  Chapter Two

  She could hear the woman moaning softly in the stall, and the janitor slurping up her pussy juices. Ginny fought the urge to join him or have the woman join him in eating her out. She slipped into a nearby stall and listened to the woman’s moaning.

  Whenever the woman gasped, Ginny imagined the janitor’s tongue pressing against her own clit or probing past the folds of her tender pussy lips.

  She swallowed and reached a hand down to her crotch and rubbed her pussy gently underneath her jeans. She silently exhaled. Here she was in a bathroom stall, trying to get off. She was an addict, and it was both frightening and frustrating, but she felt embarrassed of this addiction only when she wasn’t being serviced, or when she was looking for service. But now that she was so close to it, she felt only need, yearning for her fix, her janitor’s tongue.

  The moment the woman came with a trembling groan, Ginny felt the burning heat of envy rise up inside her. It wasn’t jealousy. It was like watching a person eat when you are hungry. You just want some, even a little, like a taste.

  For the next minute, there was a pregnant silence. Ginny knew what the janitor was doing. He was lingering over the pussy in front of him, soothing the throbbing clit after orgasm. But after another minute, Ginny feared maybe they had left while she’d been entranced with her own growing desire. Ginny stepped out of her stall and stood waiting.

  When the janitor stepped out of the stall, Ginny’s heart was racing. She was trembling and felt her hands move instinctively toward her hips, her palms moist, and her body heating up. In the back of her mind she was expecting him to service her there and then.

  Just one problem: The janitor was not her janitor. This guy was a redhead. Handsome, with luscious red lips, soft pale skin, some freckles and his well-toned arms were covered in tribal tattoos. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that clung to his chest muscles, leaving little to the imagination.

  “Pardon me, ma’am, but this restroom is closed for servicing.”

  Ginny glared at him. “I can see that.”

  The janitor ran his tongue along his teeth, his mouth firmly shut, clearly not impressed with her comment. “And yet you are here.”

  “I was looking for a janitor, actually. That’s why I came in.”

  “Is there a problem? Your baby shit itself all over a table or something?”

  “Huh? No. I was looking for a specific janitor.”

  “Oh, I see. Let me guess, you’ve had the good fortune of meeting one of my colleagues.”

  Ginny blushed and said, “I have.”

  She heard the woman chuckle, still hidden in the stall. Ginny heard toilet paper unraveling from the roll. “And you want more?” the woman said. “I know that feeling. Once you’ve had your clit treated like it was the center of the universe, you’re always horny for more like some sex-depraved teenage boy. I bet your janitor didn’t even go all out on you.”

  Ginny swallowed. Had she stumbled upon some cunnilingus clit-worshipping cult? Where there levels of initiation? The thought thrilled her and terrified her in equal measure.

  “What’s your name?” the janitor asked. “I’m Lewis, by the way.”

  “Ginny.” She decided to abandon the lost jacket story. She didn’t want this ‘chance’ meeting getting back to their head office. The last thing she wanted them thinking was that some crazy chick was stalking them. “I just want to know where I can find the guy, that’s all—for more.”

  “What makes you think he wants more,” the woman said. Ginny could hear her pulling up her skirt and adjusting her pantyhose.

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Ginny snapped, a little more aggressively than she intended to be or was used to being.

  “Actually, not true. If my colleague liked your taste, your flavor, then he would have asked for your number. Unless, it was Jason. He’s a little weird. The thing is, Ginny, we need the money from cleaning. Eating pussy is a bonus, that doesn’t come along as much as you might think. Okay, sure you caught me with Mrs. Reynolds, but she has a contract.”

  Ginny gaped at him. “Contract? You have women sign contracts?”

  “Well, sure, or we don’t get paid.”

  “You get paid? I never paid my guy.”

  Lewis laughed. “I mean for cleaning. You think my friends and I are gigolos or something? Hell no. We eat pussy like a connoisseur of fine wine sips his obsession. If, while cleaning, we get to meet some of our customers, I say hell yes.”

  Mrs. Reynolds appeared from the stall. She was in her forties and wearing a large size dress. Her shortness made her look heavier. Ginny was ashamed of herself for thinking that she deserved to be on the menu more than this woman.

  “Hello. So you learned of the little secret as to why this is the American city women are most happy in.”

  “One of my mates tasted her,” Lewis said.

  “And you want more,” Mrs. Reynolds said. It wasn’t really a question.

  Ginny swallowed hard. “I do.”

  “Then you have to hire them to clean some commercial space.”

  Ginny remembered the prices on the website. They were professional rates, about $35 an hour with a minimum of four-hour shifts.

  “We are under contract to work this site twice a week,” Lewis said. “I also clean the library on Main Street on Sundays.”

  Ginny looked at Lewis and then at Mrs. Reynolds. She couldn’t care less what arrangement they had. She wanted her janitor.

  “Well, where can I find the other one?”

  “Other one? There are five of us, sweetheart.”

  Five?

  “The one I met has jet-black hair. He was cleaning the ladies’ room in a subway station a few days ago.”

  “Jason?” Lewis said, with a low whistle. “And he did what to you?”

  Ginny blushed once more. She looked at Mrs. Reynolds, who was staring eagerly at her with eyes hungry for sala
cious details. Ginny wondered if Mrs. Reynolds had used Jason’s services. She felt a tinge of jealousy, but she quickly felt ashamed for the childish behavior.

  “Well, he, you know, did what you did to her.”

  Mrs. Reynolds laughed, and went to the sink to wash her hands.

  “He ate your pussy?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Until you came?”

  Ginny nodded, getting a little annoyed by questions for which the answers were obvious. Why else would she be in this restroom?

  “Well, you must be something special,” Lewis said. “Jason is very picky, which is fine because he doesn’t need to, what is the word…” Lewis said, with a malicious grin, “…to feed often. Were you menstruating?”

  This question shocked Ginny. “No, of course not.”

  “But you just had been, hadn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Lewis nodded. “He’s got a super-sensitive nose. He’s into some weird shit, like reincarnation and stuff. He thinks he was a dog in a past lifetime. He says that is the reason he loves to eat pussy. But the fact that he picked you out of the crowd so to speak, means you must have something special.”

  Lewis looked her over, and then took a step forward and leaned up close to her, his nose hovering over the skin of her neck; he sniffed and smiled and swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I smell it now though. Still, I’m curious.” Lewis turned to Mrs. Reynolds and said, “This restroom has been serviced, but I still need to do the restrooms at the other entrance.” He turned back to Ginny. “Perhaps, it’s Ginny, right? Perhaps you can come with me.”

  Ginny was tempted. Like a drug addict unable to find the drug of choice, they will settle for whatever is available.

  “Isn’t Mrs. Jenkins expecting you?” Mrs. Reynolds said, eyeing Ginny suspiciously, as if Ginny were about to steal away one of her cubs.

  “I would like to meet Jason first,” Ginny said.

  “Why?”

  “Because maybe he wants me for himself.”