Her heart sank. The beguiling stranger – who, an hour ago, didn’t exist in her world -- had gone from lover, to deserter, to rescuer to victim. She knew nothing about him -- not even his name -- but felt deeply responsible for him. After all, wasn’t it her passing fetish that started this chain of extraordinary events?
His eyes glittering with spite and lust, the interloping janitor glared at her as he fumbled with his fat cock. Her lover’s vulnerable ass was positioned to receive the man’s lechery. Half unconscious, he could barely murmur his objection.
She wanted to run away but could not make her legs work. She had to try to save him from the fat fuck that had muscled in on their impromptu affair.
When the janitor turned his eyes away to attend to his sodomy, she slowly eased her body into a wobbly standing position. The janitor was now working up a gob of spit to lubricate her lover’s ass and she knew she had to do something quick. But what? The janitor had already proven himself to be more powerful than either of them.
The janitor spit, sending a thick gob of saliva down the creases of her lover’s ass and then, with a grunt, rammed his cock deep into his victim.
Her dazed lover moaned and she cringed in sympathy. The janitor thrust again and again, driving his victim’s head and torso into the base of the toilet with each forward thrust. “He’s going to kill him,” she thought.
Overcome with rage, she leapt across the room, grabbed the mop by its handle and, with a mighty grunt, swung it with both arms, bringing the metal frame down on the janitor’s head. The janitor groaned and, raising his hand to his head, sank heavily to the floor.
Blood seeped from his head onto the marble floor.
She stood in shocked silence, staring at the two bodies, not knowing what to do next.
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