The Janitor

Chapter one.


Gwen picked up the ring armor from the mat, closed the strawman room access behind with her foot and flicked the permutation, turning on the main visible radiation. She dropped her coat over the back of the entrance hall chairman, side by side to the phone and stepped into the livelihood room, kicking off her skid and wriggling her toes in the piling of the carpet as she went. It had been a recollective day, stressful and she was inordinately proud of to be at home in her warm apartment at lastly. The ring mail was dropped on the settee, gear up to be gone through in a unretentive while.

She wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge and poured herself a inhuman glass of Pinot Chardonnay from the opened bottle that was covered beads of condensation over the unripened deoxyephedrine, stored in the door shelf. The remote to the audio system was on the granite kitchen worktop, handily placed so that she could hit the ‘ on’clit and have her music choices waft from the Speaker set into the roof of every room.

She returned to the keep way undoing the buttons of her blouse one handed. Dextrously, she prised the release through the holes, one by one eventually leaving the front to flap open, still tucked into the waist stripe of her skirt. The glass of wine was placed carefully in the centre of a coaster on the small casual table beside the settee, freeing both helping hand to deal with the awkward zipper at the back of her brusk annulus. She wriggled and allowed the garment to land around her ankles for a abbreviated moment before she picked it up then folded and placed it on the settle, the Elwyn Brooks White blouse followed, leaving her to stand in her bra and panties.

Gwen sat, grabbing the chain armour to read as she folded her pegleg under her prat and wriggled into a well-to-do position. The half a dozen gasbag were all bills except for one from her mother. Gwen could almost predict, to the Logos, what her mother would have to say. John the Evangelist was in township and asking after her. She hoped she was eating enough, not working too difficult, was having clock time to practise the forte-piano etc, etc, et al.

She put the unopened mail service down on the small table, succeeding to her methamphetamine hydrochloride of wine-coloured which she picked up and sipped, grateful for the rejuvenating effects of the ice cold alcohol. Gwen began to slow down and permit the stresses of her day to leach away.

She hit the ‘ on’button of the television remote control, making sure the volume was down to nothing and then, dimmed the brightness level with yet another remote device. The little luxuries appealed to Gwen and travail preservation devices ranked top in her shopping criteria.

The program on the TV was another of those interminable preparation contests. The food always looked fabulous, but for most people who avidly watched, was far too impractical. The ingredients were not readily uncommitted on the supermarket shelves for one affair and even to a lesser extent people had the clip or imagination to produces the haute cuisine.

Still not quite comfortable, Gwen reached around her back and unclasped her bra, pulling it off to lie on top of her skirt and blouse. She eased her chest, pushing them up and together to subdue the confining pinch the under wired garment imposed on them. She encouraged blood flow with a solace massage that stimulated her peel. It was an unconscious, relieving action with nothing more than relaxation behavior on her mind, a bit like the pleasure of wriggling your toes after removing high heeled shoes.

The uninspiring television served to provide an choice source of lightness to the dimmed main lights as she lay back and wound down.

After some piece, and feeling drowsy, Gwen rose from the settle, hooked a fingerbreadth into her high top scanty and pulled them down and off, stepping out of them one base at a time, bending at the waist. She hung her panties on a corrupt finger as she carried them to the bath on the way to a pre-bed shower. They landed in the linen basket, discarded until wash day.

Gwen showered, pulled a toweling robe around her dampness body and returned to the living elbow room. She emptied the wine-coloured glass in two gulps and switched off the television and lighter. Gwen went to bed and fairly shortly, was sound asleep.

He crept forward, trying not to disturb the bushes too much. The windowpane was just above oral sex acme in his crouching position. He didn’t want to be caught as a shadow or silhouette as the Christ Within went on. From a poacher’s pouch of his overcoat, he pulled out his new periscope, bought at a sportswoman workshop for just this determination but designed for another.

He fitted the sculptured natural rubber face mask over his heart, a modification of his own. He has also covered the trash with a non-reflective film. It didn’t sham the caliber of vision but would foreclose the lights glinting back. Snapping the rubber eraser head band into place, he waited for her to throw on the kindling. He felt secure from reflexion. He had chosen a good home from which to view her and the curtains were opened enough to allow him a slap-up vantage point. The shrubbery protected his back from the remote road and overlooking neighbours. The cover of darkness and his black long-coat and woollen hat, offered little for anyone to see against the dark brickwork, just in case anyone should be funny enough to attend when the lights went on.

He settled and waited, expecting her home any minute now. The clip seemed to tick interminably by, slowly, each second seeming a minute long and every minute an hour. He shivered a little. The evening air was cooling rapidly. He had a second of anxiety, thinking his breath might be seen if it got cold enough to show as steam. He pushed out a breath and was relieved to see that it did not condense.

It was, in reality, only ten proceedings or so that he waited, during which time, his attention wandered, his idea imagining her naked body between his hand, his lip sucking on her erect and hard mammilla, his cock oceanic abyss in her consistence, spraying her guts with his spend as it pumped deep inside her body.

Suddenly the luminance flicked on, snapping his tending back to the task in bridge player and temporarily blinding him as the bright luminance refracted from the angled mirrors of the periscope. He blinked rapidly, trying to realize the star Christ Within from his retina. It lasted only a few minute until his vision cleared. He was able to see her lay her coat over the death chair in the hallway. He watched as the post hit the settee then saw her routine and go into the kitchen and out of hatful. The slattern came back into the living room shortly afterwards, a glass of wine in one hired man while she undid her blouse with the other, button by button from the top Down. It flapped give, giving him a precious glimpse of her white lacy brassiere, hiding underneath.

In anticipation, he licked his lips, hoping that she would take all of her clothes off and allow for him to see her fluid body without hindrance.

It looked as if his wishing would be granted. Her skirt came off, quickly followed by her blouse. The bitch had matching underclothing, webbed step-in with a senior high school waist striation that followed the contours of her hips in an magnify, very white coloured, ‘ V’. The bra pushed her tits up and out, enhancing their conformation. She sat facing him on the settee and folded her legs up.

He licked his backtalk again and fumbled for his zip fastener. His turmoil was making him awkward. He took a deep breather or two to subside his nerves and make control of his digits while he had a ringside sight of her as she settled into a comfortable posture.

Then she flipped through her chain mail, turned on the TV, dimmed the lights and took a slug of her wine. The flickering of the think over TV showed on her skin making it lok as if she was changing coloration like a cuttle fish does.

He managed to get his hardening shaft out as the dirty squawk was unhooking her bra. And then, almost causing him to regorge his cum in his manus, she grabbed her fantastic teat and seemed to cast them, just for his screening delight. Pressing them together as if beckoning him to tit-fuck her. He rubbed in a sweetheart pacing, not wanting to lose his consignment too soon. This was punter than he had expected, very much better than the telescope in his bedchamber had been, which was really, much too far away to get the material feel of being up close and personal. This was like being in the room with her. He could almost smell her fragrance. Almost taste her dirty pussy in its white, lacy cocoon. Almost experience her tits as he moulded them in his rough, calloused hands, just as she was doing.

And then, joy of pleasure, she stood up and pulled her panties off. She had turned and had her back facing him. He gaped at her smooth white can, loving the contours and unmutilated skin. His patience was rewarded as she bent and picked them up, flashing her cunt lips from between her perfectly rounded keister cheeks, before turning to point him her partially shaved, dirty, dirty cunt. A line of work of colored tomentum, an column inch wide-eyed, went vertically from her honey pot to some way short of her belly button.

His tongue protruded from between his backtalk as the tension in his ball built to boiling point.

The dirty cyprian was swinging her colly knickers as she walked out of the elbow room. His cum splashed over his clenched fist and would defile his new foresighted pelage. Mission accomplished. He had got his initiative really good view of her. It fired his imagination of having her writhing beneath him while he pinioned her with his monstrous cock.

He had scuttled back to the Janitors lodge before Gwen retired to bed.

Diary launching.

Fri 8th.

The periscope worked better than I though it would, I swear she knew I was there, otherwise, why the show of being a contaminating little fucking whore ? I am going to roll in the hay her senseless soon.



He waited the next night, hidden in his carefully chosen place in the flower bed. His periscope scanned backwards and forwards, but the fucking whore didn’t come home.

Not wanting to completely waste the night, he walked around the apartment mental block, looking for likely blank space where he could hide out and hopefully find another horny looking beef, for the days when she didn’t show.

Most of the flat were in darkness and of those, where a light was on at ground floor spirit level, only one offered enough cover for him to hold in himself. Frustrated, he returned dwelling to publish in his carefully kept diary.

journal entering,

Sat 9th.

The pussy didn’t show. I waited for hours in the freeze cold, but she had other affair to do. She will pay for that …

Diary supplement,

Saturday 9th.

She came home at two in the morning time. I managed to get there in time, but she had a bloke with her. That fucking whore screwed him on the settee before chucking him out. I managed to find a new spot so I can see into her bedroom. She has the vainglorious dildo I have ever seen, it’s inglorious. She fucked herself with it for long time after lover boy was thrown out. She really liked that melanize cock going in and out. She really is a muddied little whore and that wimp couldn’t live up to her. I wonder if she is a nymphomaniac.
& not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ;
Gwen’s eventide had been okay. Her escort was a nice looking man, reasonably well educated and informed. He was capable to converse on virtually topics and proved to be quite charming in an old fashion way. Their sojourn to the dramaturgy and then a nightclub had been pleasant, but not devastatingly exciting.

However, he wasn’t quite as hot a lay as his body suggested he might be. His technique needed some care and, although she had managed to get off, to a degree, mostly on the charge of having a man inside her for a change, she couldn’t wait to get rid of him and jump her trusty Negroid sceptre. “ Mister Reliable ” would finish off what Greg, her accompaniment, had started, but wasn’t up to the task of completing. Typically, he carried baggage and didn’t have the strength of character to handle a career woman who knew what she wanted in the release and had the mien of mind to grasp the chance. Like so many before, his own insecurities rendered him vulnerable to a sexually charged and motivated woman and, instead of taking the lead and being masterful, was mental object to follow and meekly comply with her wishes.

Mister Reliable did in fact, do the magic, set on his highest setting, she was soon creaming as she rammed him into her consistency. The combination of her sex being stretched and filled with the oversize dildo, a mental image of a huge black man fucking into her and a finger tip, lightly rubbing her clit, brought Gwen to a satisfying orgasm. Her immediate motivation sated Gwen dropped off to sleep.

Dimly, as she drifted off, she was aware of a apparent movement at the windowpane and a flimsy stochasticity, but the need for sleep overcame her fleeting curiosity.



Gwen’s job, as a melodic historian at the University, didn’t allow her very much time for socialising. Often, she worked way into the shadow of nighttime, transcribing old musical scores and sheet music. Some of the stuff from the Tudor period was notated in unfamiliar symbol, it took time to watch and almost as a great deal to transcribe into modern bar format. The words were often in Latin or old French. That was bad enough, but not something that couldn’t be overcome, but it was as if the score was also Latin or some ancient words, just beyond her grasp often enough.

She was one of only a handful of the great unwashed throughout the globe who had the power to see the unknown aggregation of billet and supposition where the writer was going to go. It was made all the harder where snatch of the velum sheet music were missing or too stained to be legible and come up with a complete piece. It was a lonely occupation, but one she enjoyed. Getting a account, recently discovered or veil for 100 gave her a thrill. She would be the first to learn the music, lost to propagation, before it was published to the wide world.

Most of her sex life history had happened during university years. A lot of that time was lost to boozy weekends and parties that should stimulate satisfied the urge of a 1 cleaning lady for the rest of her aliveness. But, as is so often the case, once explored, the desire becomes more refined and specializer in sense of taste. She liked uncomplicated sex, preferably with someone she would be unlikely to see again, a casual liaison of mutual gratification, when both parties got what they set out for and then, went their separate way of life.

She had only ever had one serious relationship, the John from her home Ithiel Town, the one her mother never failed to mention in her letter of the alphabet. Why did she restrain on about him ? Did her female parent fantasy him herself perhaps ? Didn’t she know he is a spook with all the fashion and panache of a cat’s fur-ball ?

Their relationship had lasted a little over a class. The man was a total tosser and kept losing his shipment way before she even got started. But, risky was his weakness, he would cry at the fall of a hat. Gwen learned to hate him in their clock time together.

She liked her uncomplicated life story, preferred her own fellowship and enjoyed having the space of her apartment to herself. She had enough money and really, needed nothing else. The encumbrance of a partner would have cramped her way far too often to be born.

She was lucky enough to be attractive, so her predilection of “ stranger sex ” was not a problem. When the desire took her, she would party at one of the many bars and clubs in Town and invariably, have a male collaborator for the evening.

It was a lifestyle her mother could not empathize, coming from a generation where the little lady was housewife, with all that, that involved.


His job really couldn’t have been more suited to his selection of lifespan style. beingness janitor of this apartment stoppage brought him into middleman with women and ladies. In his off kilter intellect, the difference between peeress and womanhood was only a matter of age. The elder, were noblewoman, definitely, the untested 1, women, and fair game as far as he was concerned.

His eminence didn’t have an age boundary as such, possibly thirty something or forty perhaps, but at some undefined age, the modification over came the woman and she became a lady. A shrink would probable name him with a Mother fixation and be probably quite near the truth.

If he were capable to rationality his thinking objectively, he would have found the difference to be those he found attractive and those he didn’t. A ma'am was something to be revered, respected and obeyed even. But, a fair sex was there for his gratification, a sex physical object for him to use and pervert as he saw fit.

The ma'am, by their sublime position, were treated as if they held an in inconspicuous Mantle, maternity or the teacher from his school daylight. He treated them with a compliancy stopping short of doffing his cap, but it wouldn’t have been out of spot as he thought it. The women though, were treated with a distain, he almost felt master to them. These bimbo’s were hardly worth his attending, but they would be a handy shtup if the function ever presented its self.

Gwen, at telephone number 39 was definitely a woman and as such, was the object of his desire.



Diary submission Mon 10th

Gwen seemed pretty tire out tonight when she came home plate. She didn’t even peck up her mail, just stripped in the bedchamber and dived into bed. The mirror in her chamber needs to be moved a little, have to see what I can do about that, her sleeping accommodation window is a bit risky. I saw most of her, but not all. She is a dirty screwing slut twat. Fucking her dildo after that tosser she brought family, must take taken it out of her. What she needs is a real number man to fuck her stupid.

A new cunt moved into routine 4, another fucking blonde with big mamilla and a short-change dame. She might be Worth keeping an eye on. I think she will be a regular one to show her self to me. The dippy squawk hasn’t got a clue about her boiler, might be a way into her dirty filthy drawers. She also made a pass at me. Would you believe that, she hasn’t been here more than a few min and already, she’s offering her ego. What a cunt !


Detective Oliver made a note on his pad. ‘ The next diary entry has a seven day gap in it. ‘ The diary is intact.’He said to himself and could only surmise that the perpetrator didn’t have anything to say.

Moving around the Janitors ‘ complimentary’apartment had left him feeling definitely soiled. So much porno was pasted to the wall that is was surd to see where one bill poster stopped and another started, like a vast collage of women’s crotch and mammary glands.

The DVD that universally, were also pornographic in nature, were stacked in untidy pot on the floor amongst the rotting dust of food housecoat, Warren E. Burger ingroup and paper cups, advertising Coke in red and egg white logotype. The Janitor was a walking advert for bosom problems police detective Oliver thought to himself.

How this pervert could hold up like this was beyond Detective King Oliver, but the diary, with all the sordid details faithfully recorded, was the absolute clincher. He found it concentrated to realize why anyone would chronicle their perversion in such detailed hanker hand.

He flipped a page of the scruffy document and continued to record as the eternal rest of his CSI social unit rifled the dwelling for any forensic evidence they could find. Already, many bags with tatter were lined up against the wall for removal.





















The Janitor

Chapter two.


It hadn’t been a typical Mon at oeuvre. A fire alarm had seen the integral university outside, standing in the rain while the fire brigade searched the building in vain for the cause. She and her colleague got soaked in the mizzle and knew they had the relief of the day to get through in damp clothing. It didn’t help her temper in the least.

The drizzle didn’t let up thorough the day. Her apparel were sticking to her, clinging and uncomfortable, when she arrived home. The threshold was still closing as she began to strip sodden level off, leaving a trail of wet dress in her wake. The cascade ran nice and hot. Steam filled the bathroom and in crazy rill, ran down the Methedrine of the carrell. Gwen positively revelled as the hot water soothed the tribulation of the day, washing them, with soap soapsuds, down the drain and away.

Her robe hugged her in warm sheep pen of white terry toweling. Her skidder, pure with furry innersole, warmed her feet. At last, she felt unlax and easy and suddenly, very hungry.

A quick trawl through the freezer unearthed a micro-waveable TV dinner party, perfect tense for her mood and want of patience, speedy and quite enough to fill the void.

While the meal spun and steamed in the micro-wave, Gwen picked up her dampen clothes from the Granville Stanley Hall. Perhaps she should cause checked the chain on the door. The moistness clothes hit the bum of the linen basketball hoop as the micro-wave pinged.

Gwen pulled the cork from her current bottle of wine, each bottle carried four eyeglasses and took her four mean solar day to consume, poured a healthy slug into a long stemmed glass, re-corked the bottle and put it back in the door tray of the refrigerator, making a mental note to self that only one deoxyephedrine wax was left, buy a new bottleful on the way home from employment tomorrow.

The TV dinner, glass and a tongue and ramification sat on a tray which she held on her lap. Music flowed from the speaker unit, low, causing a voicelessness of sound, above audible, but not so practically to be distinct. Gwen ate slowly, too tired to really savor the food, just grateful for the keep. The inhuman wine slid over her palate and eventually into her blood current. That was when the problems began, but Gwen wasn’t really cognizant of the effects of the Rohypnol combined with the inebriant. In all it took her about twenty hour to become completely without whizz. The feeling of inebriation passed to semi-consciousness in a thing of minutes.

It was at this point that checking the room access mountain chain would have been a capital idea. She didn’t know anything else until she woke at well retiring nine o’clock the next morning. Her bed looking like it had been through a mincing machine, her bathrobe thrown carelessly on the floor and stains she had no recollection of making or why she had spot of toilet newspaper publisher all over her bed and behind. To top it all, she had the mother of a headache, like the worst holdover in the cosmos and a bruise on her neck that looked for all the world like a hicky.


He had been watching through the periscope. Watched as Gwen came in, dumped her clothing on the base as she made her way to the bathroom. Before the bathroom door closed, shutting of his uninterrupted scene of her defenseless organic structure, he was treated to a full frontal show. Her breasts, on show for his personal enjoyment, swung slightly, free from their entrapment, E. B. White and firm with tuck halo. And then, her back and perfectly formed arse was his to enjoy as she pushed the door shut. He especially liked the red welts where her bra had pinched the skin of her vertebral column and the strain her panties had left on her buttocks and upper thigh, as if they were still there, but perfectly see-through.

Some ten minutes passed in which his expectation grew mo by moment.

Steam curled in diminishing wisps around the boundary of the door. He waited, knowing she would be coming out soon. His anticipation jumped from level to even in an upwards crescendo until he was physically trembling. His cock had stiffened until it was painfully encumbered in his trouser, desperate to be exposed and treated to a massage until it spewed. He resisted the urge of getting it out to rub himself to pass completion, hoping that his bout would occur very soon.

He watched when Gwen came out of the bathroom, wrapping a Elwyn Brooks White gown around herself but, not quite quickly enough to hide her freshly showered pink soundbox from his coup d'oeil. Then she went from panorama into the kitchen. He waited and then saw her cull up her damp clothing before returning to the kitchen.

After a few proceedings, that seemed like forever, she came from the kitchen with a tray in her hands. His focus immediately centred on the glass of wine-coloured, it was on for tonight, a night he thought might never happen, had only been in his sleazy dreams and fantasies.

He had used an old master key from the days the buildings were constructed. Forgotten, it had sat on the key dining table, the tag faded and indistinct. He had no estimate it was there. All these years he could have had, arranging her article of furniture to increase his voyeuristical joy. Once he found he had unlimited access to Gwen’s apartment, his plans for Gwen formed in only a few secondment. The flunitrazepan he had managed to squirrel away after clearing out one of the apartments years back, now had a use. A carefully measured superman in an old eye-dropper found its way into the one-half replete bottle of wine he knew would be in the fridge. The trap was set. All that remained was for Gwen to number home.

He waited until the drugged wine-coloured did the trick, watching as she slowly sank down on the sofa, her head lolling to one face, the remains of the wine and glass fell from nerveless fingerbreadth to the carpet flooring. Gwen was his now, cook for his especial treatment. Tonight, she would come across a real man who would screw her wit out.



journal entry Monday 18th

I did it ! I actually did it and fucked her good and proper.

That GHB material worked an absolute fucking goody. She was out quickly and stayed that way all through our tryst. I’m too shagged to publish now, will finish this up later.

He waited until he was sure Gwen had gone completely under. Then, silently, he opened the back room access with his newly acquired key, letting himself into the kitchen and equally as quietly, closing the doorway behind him, careful the door latch didn’t click into place.

He inched forward. Favouring the cover of the wall, much as he had seen old-time gangster and spy movie had their Heron creep around. It would probably have been comical to watch his progression as he inched along, with his back flat against the bulwark. His sneakers making absolutely no sound whatsoever, concentration completely focused on where Gwen lay comatose.

He could see her tone down hair and head lifting and falling as her chest expanded with breathing place. She showed no other house of life. It was perfect in his execution he thought and licked his lips in anticipation.

reaching over the binding of the leather settee, He lightly grasped her shoulder and shake it as he whispered her name. She groaned in response, but made no other defensive move. It was all he needed to fuck, she was completely out of it.

His social movement became much bolder and assured, knowing that, even if she knew what was happening, she would have no memory in the daybreak and no method of fending him off. He walked around the settee to stand in front of her recumbent position, his eye never leaving the afford necked bathrobe she wore. The swell of her breasts and cleavage were quite manifest between the lapels of the gown. His putz stiffened at the sight and his proximity to her soundbox, the object of his fancy and desires.

Her legs dangled off the sharpness of the fanny and lay, splayed apart on the carpeted story. He stepped between her feet and nudged her legs apart with his calfskin. He knew that her partly trim cunt would be there to eyeshot, but denied himself that fussy pleasure for the moment, savouring the anticipation of sight, cutaneous senses, smell and taste as a scrumptious thrill, yet to come.

He reached down to the loosely tied belt of the robe, flicking deftly to unmake the gnarl she had tied. It parted easily and, as he pulled the final stage away, so the edges of her robe parted as well, revealing her skin underneath.

Hardly able-bodied to arrest himself, his fingers helped the robe to shine completely surface. A nail brushed her skin and then, brushed across the right chest, pausing momentarily at her mammilla. He licked his mouth again, a nervous trait from his childhood in times of stress.

He looked at her face as he lightly gripped her hardening nipple and was suddenly shocked to see that her oculus were open and steadily gazing at him. For a here and now, he paused and thought of flight, but realised in the succeeding secondment, that she could very well be awake, but had no willing because of the debilitating essence of the drug. In no more than than a nano-second, his thoughts of flight turned into consummate pleasure. If she was going to be awake all the way through, then his use would be increased exponentially.

Her gaze gave no denotation of bother or reaction when he pinched her nipple severe between thumb and forefinger.

“ You’re all mine Cunt. ” His voice rasped as he informed her that her fortune was completely at his whim for the succeeding few hours.

Pulling the robe together and using it as a sling, he pulled her up and over his shoulder into a fire-eater’s face lifting. He carried her into her sleeping room and unceremoniously, dumped her on the bed, on her rachis. Her oral sex connected with the wall, but only a glancing setback, not enough to draw blood.

He yanked the robe from her shoulders while straddling her prone body. Her teat pointed accusingly at him. rear coloured corona surrounding little buds on eyeball that hardly sagged at the pull of gravity.

He licked his lips again and gripped her breasts in a vicious, claw like grasp that would leave a row of contusion. He pulled them apart and buried his nozzle in the vale they created, smelling her clean peel before running his clapper through the valley, leaving a slick magazine of saliva to cool down on the tiny hairsbreadth of her body.

He bit her cervix in the area of her jugular nervure, leaving a love life snack, something he had always wanted to do to a charwoman. His stopcock stiffened still more as he viewed the purpling mark.

Gwen’s eyes followed his movements, as a calico portrait does, but still there was no recognition of him or response to his actions.

“ Time for your Jack and Danny my lilliputian one. ” He had reverted to the rhyming slang for fundament he had used in his childhood. It was considered dirty, talking about the genitals of a lady friend, so substitute wrangle were used.

He knelt and pulled off the robe completely. It was his first time with a woman completely naked in his presence and his to do with as he pleased. Could life be any in effect he asked himself ?

Parting her knees, he lowered his nose to the pocket-size strip of hair's-breadth that led to her hidden delights. She had a sense of smell he couldn’t describe, something sportsmanlike, The easy lay she had used in the cascade was evident, but with a musky olfactory property in the screen background and a promise of something else. Certainly, it wasn’t anything like the smell from her soiled panties he had managed to sniff when he had sneaked into her apartment a few Clarence Day ago.

He licked, sticking his tongue out, at just the outermost edge of her vulva. Her taste was almost exactly as her smell. The recently used soap was very prominent on her peel, but her secretions were there as well, intoxicating and sending messages to his, already hard cock.

He parted her sassing with the calloused digit of his right hand and pressed his tongue into her folds then, sucked, savouring the musk of her cancel lube. He pushed a digit into her cunt, watching fascinated as her lips John Drew in and out around it as he worked it backwards and forwards. Then he inserted, two finger, hooking them slightly, feeling her passion and glibness of her silken golf hole and the slightly ribbed pad of her ‘ G’touch. Then three fingerbreadth. He fucked them into her yielding soundbox roughly until his arm ached at the exercise. Her torso had naturally provided the necessary fluids to foreclose rubbing burns in so medium an field. It had leaked out onto the mainsheet and coated his finger. He held them to his nose, smelling her before tasting them, sucking them clean of her juice.

He couldn’t postpone the inevitable climax of his mission any longer. Having her here, laying prostrate across the bed, nude and completely at his whim, was just too a good deal for his self control. With fumbling fingerbreadth, he undid his fly and winkled out his hard-on while he stared at her magnificent cunt and the evident wetness that glistened in the effulgence of the overhead light.

lying over her physical structure, between her knees, he positioned his dick at her entree and pushed into her with out effort. She had provided enough lubricant to comfort his transition. He slid his whole length into her body, the very act he had fantasised about for so long, his complete supremacy of her trunk, his pinioning of her on his cock. And then he began to do it her while mauling at her breasts. It was all too a great deal for him. The compounding of preparation, long awaited fulfillment of his desires, watching her, knowing she had no estimate, her flawlessness and vulnerability at this very instant, had him blasting his seed within a few minutes.

She was his low gear, she had his cherry, so to speak and the moment of interjection had him crying out. It was better than he had dreamed and her accommodating consistence was infinitely adept than the jolting hide of his palms.

He lay on top of her as the spasms of his coming diminished.

Then, he panicked. She would most likely know she had been violated and his source was swilling around inside her. Naively, he sought tissue paper, thinking to stuff it inside her to mop up his cum. He ran to the bathroom and grabbed a wad of toilet paper. He quickly rolled it into a blimp shape and forced it into her. Of course of instruction, it disintegrated as he tried to angle it back out. So, in a fury of blind panic, he found a squeezy bottle in the closet under the kitchen sink, filled it with water and washed her out, using his fingers to try and hook out the bits of tissue, making even more of a mickle of the bed sheets.

He collected anything that might incriminate him and ran, crouching, from her flat. It was two in the morning, unlikely anyone would be awake, let alone watching his stilted rush across the courtyard.

diary entry Tuesday 19th.

I slept till ten this morning, completely fucked. Gwen is a howling lay, I want to do it again as soon as potential. Wouldn’t it be great if I fucked her and she got pregnant ? She wouldn’t know who the father is, but I would.

I might try setting up a video television camera next time. See me fucking into her, perhaps I will get her to suck me off so I can cum all over her font, perhaps she will swallow it all.

I was heedless though, leaving all that cum inside her and biting her neck for roll in the hay’s saki. God, what an idiot, but it was fucking good.


DS Joseph Oliver read the passage of words, seeing them as a confession of guilt trip. He had no doubt that the Janitor had raped his victim, but proof is always the intemperate thing to obtain, these Book, by the rapist’s own hand, were as safe as being caught in the act.

He flipped a page or two back and re-read the entries up to the Nineteenth. DS Joseph Oliver wondered why someone would harbour these kind of thought and what it was that drove them to it in the first seat and decided that, although the Janitor wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, it couldn’t be accepted as a ground for his natural process. It was more than likely that he was always going to be some sort of deviant, because that was the way his switch lined up.

It wasn’t about sex, although that was the corner gemstone from which his sexual perversion stemmed, it was all about control, about being stronger, fitter or just the one with the wherewithal to do as he pleased with a defenceless woman.

Disgusted, DS Oliver closed the scruffy journal and put it in his air hole to reader later, when he was back in his office.

The view of Crime military officer, were just packing up their equipment into sword carry typesetter's case. They had all the evidence they needed and wanted to get back to fundament before the cup final started.

















The Janitor

Chapter 3


DS King Oliver sat at his desk, a 2d cup of coffee bean going dusty in a Styrofoam cup, a peel forming on the control surface. He cleared a distance, lent back in the hot seat and put his thwart feet up, his hands clasped behind his head, eyes half closed as he thought about the case.

He had read the diary from cover version to cover. He was disgusted at the putrid thinker of the Janitor and his double-dyed lack of heed for the women in his mental block. He thought that the repose of the resident physician had had a lucky escape by not being attractive to the lilliputian worm.

Only, he wasn’t so little was he ? Certainly, he was above median pinnacle with a powerfulness to angle ratio that would be more than enough to overcome most cleaning lady. Why was it that these perverts tended to be so physically well developed ?

He glanced at the open diary and reread the future entries.

Diary accounting entry Midweek 20th

I’m too fucked to do anything tonight. disgrace to scourge the rohypnol in the wine, but even if she drinks it, she will only sleep it off. I suppose I will demand to cool it for a day or two, wait for a new feeding bottle and drug that one. Fuck, that is going to be four nights, but it will give her time to conciliate back down.

Will have to economise up my cum if I am going to make full her dirty fuck ass. The photographic camera can wait for another fourth dimension, I dreamed of doing the squawk in the shit shute, so that is where its going to be. Have to stop the jerking for a few Clarence Day and hit sure she gets a fucking big load.

And no biting. Definitely, no biting. That was fucking stupid.



Diary supplement Wednesday 20th

It looks like I got away with hold up night though, but best not to crowd it too far, too often of a undecomposed thing.


The succeeding even, Gwen had slogged her way home after a day she would have preferred to forget. She had been nonadaptive all day, un-coordinated and totally out of kind. The concern just wouldn’t go away. She ached and thought perhaps, she was coming down with something.

Closing the figurehead room access with her practiced understructure was a blessed respite. She flipped the chain and felt like the outside public had just been ostracized, cut off and completely shut away from her sanctuary. She went through the apartment, closing all of the drapery to further furcate herself from even the distant indication that she lived in a space shared by countless others. Tonight was going to be just for her. ataraxis, a glass of wine and rest until she felt better.

Gwen showered quickly, throwing her underwear into the linen handbasket and not even bothering to fold her suit or blouse. food was the last thing on her mind, just a shabu of inhuman wine-coloured and bed.

She woke the next sunrise, half the shabu of wine-colored was still on the bedside table, the TV was still playing to its self and again, for the second day running, she had woken with her school principal banging fit to burst.

She fumbled for the telephone, called in sick and went back to bed with the covers over her head.

She felt much better in the other afternoon and decided that she would go shopping. She needed some commissariat and a pass might clear the last of the fuzziness away. It was the first prison term Gwen had taken a day off unless it was a holiday and in jubilation, the sun shone.

She met a neighbour and waved a hello while privately thinking the womanhood looked a hobo with her jogging shorts halfway down her ass and sweaty top sticking to her knocker like a second skin. Gwen didn’t know anyone in the coordination compound, but that suited her, she liked her privacy.

The janitor looked at her a short askance, almost expectantly, as if he were waiting for her to know him or something. She couldn’t help the little shudder of revulsion he evinced in her. Something at a primal level told her he was not someone she really wanted to get matey with.

After another honorable night’s sleep, aided by her accustomed glass of cool Chardonnay from the new bottle, Gwen felt OK and returned to work and her common routine.

diary entry Sunday 23rd

I am going to do that fucking fancy woman tonight. I’ve been thinking about it and am going to hump her ass and blow my lading right into her piece of ass guts.

Supplementary,

I didn’t get the opportunity to do her so it will give to be Mon now.



Gwen wasn’t unused to being propositioned, but having a fair sex lay one on you, who you have worked with for more than a year, came as a thoroughgoing surprise. Trudy was well known as being bisexual, the office staff grape vine was rarely wrong, but Gwen thought that her sexuality was never in question at body of work, so having Trudy invading her place and rubbing up against her in a style clearly designed for one thing, was a tally shock.

She thought she had handled it reasonably well, letting the pathetic woman down without bruising her ego too much. Trudy would get over it and the promise to never mention it in the billet helped.

She was still thinking about it when she shut the door of her apartment. Trudy is an attractive fair sex, but Gwen’s sense of taste didn’t lie in that direction, well not since she had been at school. That was an episode labelled, “ Not to be opened ” and boxed into a memory, tucked away in her mind.

Boxes have a habit of becoming opened though. After her shower and the hold up drinking glass of wine sat gently warming on the bedside locker, Gwen was thrashing around in her bed, fret soaked and cumming to the frantic vibrations of Mister Reliable while she remembered her fumbling with minuscule Gina.

It was the first meter Gwen had been kissed down there by anyone. Her lips had swollen, suffused with blood and her button had become something new and alive to her. Gina’s tongue awoke in Gwen, something she had not experienced before, an orgasm so virtuous and pleasant-tasting and all consuming, she had thrown back her principal and yelled her lungs out as her body succumbed to Gina’s expert ministrations.

The panorama played out in her mind as Mr. Reliable performed his magic. They had arranged to pass eve in their private elbow room in the halls of mansion house. The walls were newspaper thin and did little to dampen strait so their mutual orgasms were with mouths stuffed with a pillow of the bed clothing.

Gwen and Gina’s affair was brief, go just over a month, but in that metre, Gwen learned all about her consistency’s reactivity and where her most sensitive points were. She learned how to masturbate to pass completion and was introduced to her kickoff vibrator ; a Black and silver gray solid plastic subway system that needed two batteries and was unyielding in its rigidity. Gwen preferred to let it buzz on her clit while she fingered herself.

It was an instalment in her life story that she didn’t often think about, but her gratitude to Gina lasted very much longsighted than her desire for female sexual partners.

John had fumbled his way around her eubstance, but then lost his load while still in his pants. Gwen found a partner who, although she didn’t love him, knew his way around a adult female’s consistency and took her to heights that remained in her storage. The fact that he was blackened mattered niggling her, just that he had a large cock that stretched her and had unnumberable patience, making sure she was well and truly sated. Mister Reliable reminded her of Dwayne in size, colour and staying power and was aptly named.

He conversant gut wrenching palpitations over took her as her orgasm fibrillated through her nervous system causing her to twitch and unable to exert the thrusting of her vibrator into her consistence. She lay back as Mister reliable, without the supporting of her mitt, slipped from her soaked quim, still buzzing until she managed to find the off button. She revelled in the afterglow of her coming and idly thought she would need to change the sheets.

She reached for the field glass and drained it in a few draft, feeling the alcohol hit and spread through her body, giving her a warm glow. She relished the feeling of serenity and satiation after a successful school term with her treasured possession.

Gradually, sleep overtook her and then the oblivion of the flunitrazepan took her into a a lot cryptical state of unconsciousness.

Slightly frustrated, the Janitor’s sentiment had been partially blocked where Gwen had rearranged the curtain so that only a small gap was all he had to work with. It was only a matter of time and observation, limited though it was, before he was certain she was under the influence and ready for him.

He licked his sass as he turned the key to the kitchen room access and crept in. His baseball glove were making his hands clumsy. Quietly, he closed the door behind him, easing the latch into place.

He walked towards the sleeping room, much more confidently this clock time, knowing the drug will have got rendered Gwen incompetent of resistance or recognition. He pushed the bedroom room access clear, taking care to be as tranquility as he possibly could. Although he was certain she would be out of it, drug abuse or instinct made him sneak about.

The door hit the wall with a balmy gibbosity. He paused momentarily to see if she was cognizant, but was thankful when Gwen didn’t so a good deal as stir. He strode over to the bed where she was laying naked on top of the bed apparel. Her blacken vibrator was tucked under one of her legs, silently glistening having done it job a little earlier. He lifted her leg, licking his lips, and pulled the rubber dong out. He regarded it for a import and wondered how she could actually fit the ogre inside her cunt. He could smell out her juices still wet on the quiet surface and without too lots thought, stuck his tongue out and licked some of her essence off. He decided he liked her taste, but not the rubbery after feeling. He put it on the bedside cabinet and forgot about it.

Gwen’s chest rose and fell as her lungs filled and then expended air. The slim movement fascinated him, seeing her breast rise and fall mesmerised him for a short spell. Her pap moved up and down rhythmically and enticed him. He removed the glove from his left hand and gently pinched the nighest mamilla to him between thumb and index finger. He twiddled it and liked the rigorousness his tweaking caused. Gwen might suffer been out of it, but some functions of the body manoeuver automatically. Her areole stiffened and puckered and coloured to a deeper pink. He licked his lips again and then turn away his head to suckle on her.

After a few minutes, he stood again, determined to cover with his plan actions and not get incline tracked into biting her cervix again or marking her in any way. He removed the early glove and fished in the air hole of his coveralls for the rubber he had brought in preparedness. He had been heady before, but now knew how things should be done to minimise being caught. He cracked the foil mob and put the rubber on the mesa, make for use.

The Janitor got undressed, taking everything off until he was entirely naked. In his imagery of fucking Gwen, this was how he had pictured it with them on the bed in a naked embrace.

He lay alongside her, rearranging her stage so that she took LE of the look-alike bed, giving him decent elbow room to stretch out. He wanted to meet her. He wanted to explore her body and feel the warmth of her pelt against his. His stiff stopcock pushed against her second joint as he moulded himself alongside.

He leant on his left over human elbow and grasped her breast, trapping her pap on the pad of his quarter round. His other bridge player began to stroke the rough-cut hair above her sex, working incrementally towards her glib pussy lips. He slavered as his finger's breadth brushed over her button and actually drooled as his fingers quested at her scuttle. Beads of sweat appeared at his brow. He held his breath, raising his temperature even further as outset one and then a irregular finger entered her. He finger fucked her while still gripping her mamilla, pinching it brutally, but unaware of the punishment and bruising he was causing.

Unable to contain his fervor any longer, he reached across her to get the condom. Ineptly, he managed to get the thing on at the second attempt. The first had him trying to put it on inside out.

He stood at the position of the bed and pulled her stage around until they hung over the side. Then he hooked his hands under her knees and pulled them up. He got a momentary close up of her neatly trimmed President Bush and her slick magazine pussy lips below. They reminded him of rose petals. He nearly giggled at the similarity.

He had to turn away his knees quite a bit to be at the powerful height for his tool to line up with her pussy. He licked his lips unconsciously in concentration as he pushed himself inside her warmth. He was able to see his prick slid into her and thought it was the finest thing he had ever seen.

He fucked her. His putz sliding deeply inside and then pulling almost all of the way out, leaving just the bell end inside her. He managed to hold this up for a few bit before he felt his balls began to clinch, ready to nail his cum. He had to pull out quickly to stop himself going too far. He had promised himself that he was going to roll in the hay her in the ass by way of punishment for looking at him like something that crawled out of shit.

He spat on his fingers and wiped his saliva over her gather anus and pushed a finger into the small opening. This was going to be really blind drunk, he thought and licked his sassing yet again.

He lined his pecker up and began to push, working it into her ass until he had past the outer ring of muscle. Suddenly, he was all the way in, sliding easily and feeling the constriction of her anal retentive ring gripping his natural rubber covered rooster. He tried to control his culmination, the exertion making him effort, but to no help. He came too quickly to have really fucked her practiced and proper, but managed to thrust several times as the acquittance of his cum receded.

His shaky knees trembled as he stood back up to set up. He thought his affection was going to break up out of his pectus where it hammered almost loud enough to be audible. He gasped and gradually gained control of his faculties.

He dragged her legs back onto the bed carelessly throwing them to lay straight. Now that he had cum, his interest in her waned to the point of negligence, his priority was to remove all grounds and get back to his home.


diary introduction, Monday 24

Oh my God, I did it. I fucked her in the fucking ass. She was so pissed, but I managed to get inside her ass and it was fucking fantastic. Next time, I am going to fuck her face. That’s a promise and what the fucking whore deserves.


& not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ;
Gwen woke with the grandmother of a headache. She opened her eyeball a crack and then closed them again. The sunshine was far too bright for her to contend with. Gradually, she prised her centre open and persuaded them to persist open. The hammer in her head was quite drain, there was no way she would be able to go to work.

belief like diddly, Gwen made coffee and called in, telling her director that she could barely see and that she was going back to bed. She looked at the time on her cellular telephone and realised that it was almost ten o’clock, a broad two and a half 60 minutes later than her normal metre of waking.

She knew something was wrong. It was unlike her to slumber in, even when she was ill. The headache was the worst she could ever remember and her consistency distress in so many places.

thinking that a shower might ease the pain in the neck in her head, Gwen twisted the telephone dial and stepped into the cascading water. She yelled as the hot water hit her white meat. It felt like a knife had cut through her teat. She stepped back from the water and noticed the regal bruising of her teat and areole and wondered how the nookie that could have happened.

She stepped back into the piss and began to soap herself. She realised that her ass felt is if it had been ripped. The tenderness was sudden as her soapy fingers passed over her sphincter.

Now she was worried. If it had just been one thing, she would have brushed it off as a irregular condition, but combined, it was rather to a greater extent than a small-scale ailment. Puzzled, she left the shower to get dressed in the bedroom.

She noticed Mr. reliable on the bedside table and had no recollection of putting it there. She vaguely remembered switching it off after her session with it, but thought she had left it on the sheet to be cleaned the next forenoon. Then she saw smears on the rag that she had never seen before, even after the biggest coming. The smears looked like diddlyshit and smelled like it to.

A dread opinion overcame her ; had individual been in her theater while she slept ? She didn’t recognize what to do for a moment, confusion disrupted her rationale. The thinking of being violated crossed her nous, but early than her dildo being out of space and the sears on the sheets, there was no other grounds of someone having been in the house.

Perhaps it is the wine she thought. Maybe it was that which had caused her to sense this bad, that, and a slight contagion in her ass perhaps. Gwen resolved to lay off the Night time chicken feed of chardonnay and see if that made a difference.
Later, in the afternoon when her head cleared, Gwen shoved the sheet of paper into the laundry automobile along with some of her dress, washing away evidence. Not that she knew that.


The Janitor

Chapter 4


Gwen spent the next day at home. Although her pass had cleared, her ass was still quite sore. She called into the Doctor of the Church for an appointee to get checked out. Her feeling that she had been violated was becoming More than just a dim suspicion. She thought that perhaps she had been raped, but by whom and with no evidence to prove it and no clue about who her attacker might be, could do little about it. There was little compass point in telling the constabulary. When the doctor asked her if she had had anal retentive sex recently, the suspicion turned into choler as the certainty that she had been raped became obvious.

Suddenly, her old rubber harbor of her nursing home did not feel as safe as it had. somebody had the wherewithal to get into the household while she was sleeping. Gwen wasn’t frightened just angry and vindictive. She wanted to captivate whoever it was and then she wanted to fuck them up. She wanted to down them.

Gwen returned home having filled out a prescription of some soothing cream for her ass which she applied as soon as she got in door. Coolly, she began to search her family for any evidence of an trespasser. She realised that the front door had had the range engaged so they couldn’t have got in that way. The kitchen door was always locked and the key fruit were in a drawer. She checked to make certain that was the case. Her two keys were safely in the knife draftsman. She ruled out the back door.

Gwen checked each of the windows, looking for signs of being forced. They were all locked tight. She could rule that method out as well. The trap door to the roof space had a bolt on the underside. There was no way anyone could get in the house.

Gwen looked around the outside, checking the window and door frames to see if she had missed anything. She noticed that the flower bed had footprints in the soft earth right outside her aliveness room window and the same outside her bedchamber windowpane. The shelf were too high for her to see over, but she thought that she had a Peeping Tom and suddenly felt dirty. Judging by the state of the dry land, they had been peeping on her for some time.

Gradually, as she downed a cup of deep brown, Gwen began to form a design. So, he liked to look on and somehow, had access code to her house so, why not snare him at his own game. Give him a show and see what happens.

On her way home from oeuvre the next day, she dropped into the bank where she had a guard depositary box where she kept a modest pistol bought by her forefather when she told him of her plan to travel to the big city. Gwen didn’t like hit man and, up to now, had not felt the need to save one in the house. She made sure it was loaded, flipped the safety and put it under the pillow.

She pulled a kitchen knife from the wooden pulley-block and put that under the bed as a backup man weapon system. She carefully hid some more knife around the ground floor in places that she could strive if needed, but would not be obvious to anyone else.
Satisfied that she had made as many preparations as possible, Gwen settled down to act as normal as possible. It was the first time she had examined her convention bit and realised how monotony it was. Normally, she would pour a deoxyephedrine of vino, tone at her postal service, shower down and then bed. It was a life lacking excitement and if she wasn’t heedful, would slip into a rut.

Gwen poured her wine, replaced the Cork in the bottle and put it back in the electric refrigerator. She carried the glass into the life room and sat on the settee to wait and see what happened. She felt something in between fear and excitement and found it hard to loosen, jumping at every speech sound. Gwen turned the lights down until the lamps just glowed, throwing the room into recondite shadows.

She sat until eleven o’clock, slightly later than her normal bed prison term, but nil happened.

Gwen at conclusion got up to draw back. She realised that she hadn’t drunk the vino and found she didn’t want it and poured it down the kitchen sink.

She ran the shower, dried and then went to bed. She lay for a scant while and then crept out of the room and lay on the settee in the complete darkness of the living room.

After a few hour, her palpebra began to droop and her head nodded a few times. She fell asleep and woke the succeeding morn at her usual clock time. Nothing had happened fortunately. She wondered why that might be the fount and then realised that she had closed the curtains completely, effectively blocking her voyeur’s position of her.

Gwen dressed for work and shuffled the curtain, leaving enough of a gap as it had been before.

Her working day passed in a blur. Gwen couldn’t center properly, her mind puzzling over whom her attacker might be and she still couldn’t work out how they were getting in.

One affair she did manage though, Gwen tailgated Trudy into the restroom and once she was sure they were alone, backed her up against the paries and kissed her fully on the back talk while her hand slipped under Trudy’s skirt. She pressed against her sex through the fabric of her panty which quickly became wet as her secretion soaked into the gusset. Gwen promised her that, if she got through tonight, she and Trudy would get it on. It was a bit cryptic for Trudy who looked at her with a vex expression and wondered what the significance of tonight was. Gwen’s recollection of her young liaison and the tremendous orgasm she had had with Mister Reliable had intrigued her. Trudy was available and looked good enough to eat.

Gwen left her in the wash room, quivering at the sudden turnaround and the vista of having Gwen’s eubstance. She went into one of the kiosk, removed her pants and frigged her sex until she came, squishily.

At last, Gwen reached home. Closed the movement door and attached the chain. She picked up the mail service from the mat and dropped it on the mesa in the living room. Gwen thought to go through her common routine, but her senses were on a tight rope. Every sound was magnified many fold. She had to concentrate on doing the convention things n the usual order.

She opened the fridge to get her bottle of wine. It was at that was that moment she knew for certain that someone had been in the mansion since final stage Nox. The Cork of the bottle was pushed far too profoundly and further than her quarter round was capable of.



Diary note Midweek 26th

The feeding bottle is all prepared, had to use a piffling less because it was only one-half full. Was felicitous to see she had rearranged the drape. So tonight, I am going to fuck her expression. I am going to shove my dick right down her fucking throat. The cunt is going to live with my whole load.


Gwen was already home by the prison term he got into place. He hurriedly pulled out his periscope, just in time to see her getting easy on the settee. She had already taken off her blouse and wench and was sitting in zip more than than her bra and panties. The textile was a dainty spook of pink and completely matching.

He licked his back talk, anticipating the feel of her hot oral cavity around his putz. It was just a matter of time. Perhaps he would break before blowing his loading and fuck her again. He might even get her pregnant. He grinned at the thought and licked his lips.

The flickering of the video threw shifting colours over her skin. He now knew what she felt like, warmly, soft and ductile. He almost got his shaft out to fondle it, but resisted the urge in slip he blew his load while he watched her.

After a piece, she switched off the television set using the remote and then the luminosity went out of the living room. Her trunk was a silhouetted briefly in the room access when she turned on the bathroom light. The doorway closed, denying him far viewing.

Careful not to make any noise, he crept around to her bedroom window. The drape were pulled loaded together. Fuck it ; he thought to himself, I forgot to rearrange them before. It meant he would just give to wait until he was sure-footed she would be under the effects of the Rohypnol.

Her bedroom sparkle came on a few minutes later, shinning dimly through the drapery fabric. Not long now and he licked his lips again. The sluttish went off after just a few min. He thought to dedicate it half an minute, just to be sure she was fully under.

He waited, checking his scout and getting more excited as the paw worked around the luminous telephone dial and ticked off the time.

Stealthily, he crept to the kitchen door when the half hour had passed. He fumbled for the key in his air pocket and then, when he had got it, remembered to put his gloves on. The key slid into the ignition lock and noiselessly turned, tripping the levers and pulling back the mortise until the door was unbolted. He pressed the door latch down, the door opened on flexible joint he had thought to oil so they wouldn’t close shave.

He stepped into the kitchen and closed the door slowly, leaving it unlock, just caught on the latch. The way was in dark, but that wasn’t of any worry. He knew the layout and had paced the road from kitchen to bedroom various metre, memorising the distances. He left the kitchen and angled across the corner of the support elbow room, missing the john threshold to go straight to her sleeping accommodation. The threshold was slightly ajar. He paused and listened to try if she was asleep, but could not notice any sound at all.

Licking his mouth, he pushed the threshold assailable. The way was not in total wickedness, the outside ground lights offered just enough illumination through the pall for him to see. She was completely covered under the bed linen and looked to be lying on her side.

As silently as possible, he stepped into the room and advanced on the bed. He reached for the covers to pluck them back off of her. As his hand made impinging with the piece of paper and the realisation that the shape was from pillows bunched together under the sheet, he heard a randomness behind him. The Janitor spun around just as the muzzle account flashed in the darkness.

Pain registered suddenly. A annoyance, like he had never felt before, white hot and spread from the centre of his chest rapidly. He had been thrown across the bed from the flack of the heater and couldn’t emit properly.

He looked at the round mess of the gun as it wavered in forepart of him and then, everything went black and he descended into darkness.

She watched him, a dark human body silently creeping across the turning point of the aliveness way. Gwen had lain on the settee, keeping the elbow room in darkness and hoping that whoever it was entering into her home would not see her. The vertebral column of the settee offered quite a bit of cover where it was angled away from the bedroom door. She couldn’t see well enough to make him out, but he looked huge.

She felt for the gun she had put under the pillow. It was cold in her hand. She trembled in fear, but she also felt something else. She realised she was aroused, she was going to shoot this guy and she felt aroused. Her body buzzed with the combination of boot, concern and excitement all combine together.

Silently, she rose from the settee, keeping low and keeping him in sight. He pushed the sleeping room doorway open and went inside. Gwen inched forward with the gun raised as her dad had taught her, her trigger digit poised on the little lever tumbler, the blood line snug in her palm and her former hired man supporting her wrist.

Gwen stood in the threshold and aimed at his cover. She brushed against the doorframe, the auditory sensation was enough in the silence of her house to alert him. He stood, huge and saturnine. Gwen squeezed the gun trigger and felt the jolt of the kick jerking her carpus.

She hit the light switch and saw him straggle across her bed. She saw the hole in his chest and the spreading grime of crimson. He looked at her for a moment before the light went from his heart. The Janitor, screw. It was the Janitor and the nasty bitch had his cock out.

Suddenly, she was exhausted and wobbled on her feet.

Gwen called the Police as soon as she was sure he was dead.
& not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ; & not ;

Detective Joseph Oliver got the cry at around midnight. A report of a shooting in a usually quiet section of the neighbourhood, made by a distraught woman who said she had killed an intruder.

He was absolutely for certainly. The bullet a through and through had made a real mess of him. He noted the cat peter was out, was wearing gloves and had a periscope in the inside sac of his trench coat.

As a matter of subroutine, he arrested Gwen and then began his investigation of the dead man.

His home was a mess of pornographic stuff. Quran and magazines of raw char in affectedness designed to express their sex. He had a completely row of DVD’s on a shelf above the histrion. Oliver flicked through some, disgusted at the depravation depicted in the rape scenes being shown, all despoiling char and treating their bodies to trespass that were degrading in nature.

If this was his jack off cloth, it wasn’t a big surprise that he went for the real thing in the end.

He closed the diary and shook his principal at his unfitness to read what made some mass tick.

Justifiable homicide was the in good order outcome for Gwen he thought.