The halls were dim as the night drew near and only security spotlights lit his way. He was about to use his key to get into the offices when he found the door unlocked. He pushed it back and looked around. No one was at their desk, but he did hear noises. Walking to his office to drop off his briefcase, Colt noticed a young man in a blue jumpsuit emptying trash pails. When the man heard Colt behind him in the hall, he looked over his shoulder at him. Colt stopped in his tracks. Bright blue eyes met his stare. Colt's mouth watered as he inspected the man, estimating him to be in his early to mid-twenties, closely cropped brown hair showing off a tattoo on the back of his neck and a sleek build. The man didn't seem quite as mesmerized as Colt and went back to cleaning. Colt continued on his way to his office and removed the paperwork from his briefcase to lock in a file cabinet. That done, he stood in the stillness of his work space to listen. His cock twitched as he heard the sound of this man, the janitor, cleaning. No other noise came to his senses. Colt knew he and this man were alone. He snuck back, watching. Leaning into the room, Colt inhaled. The scent of a man and either musky cologne or deodorant made his skin rise in goose flesh. Delicious. The man spun with a start, very shy to Colt's predatory gaze. "Am I in your office? I'm sorry." "No. You're not." Colt entered the room, staring at the tattoos running down this man's right forearm. The man appeared nervous as he replaced the trash can under the desk and used a cloth to dust the computer and shelves. "Are you new?" Colt asked, intrigued. "No. I've been here nearly a year." "Really?" Colt feigned surprise and extended his hand. "Funny I've never met you before. I'm Cary St. John, but everyone calls me Colt." The man went a deep shade of crimson and wiped his palm off on his jumpsuit. He mumbled his name. Colt gripped his hand, leaned in closer and asked, "Sorry? I missed your name." "Ashton. Ashton Lake." The man didn't look directly into Colt's eyes. "Ashton," Colt said as he took a deep inhale of him. "Nice name." He knew Ashton wanted to get his hand back, but he held it longer, because he wanted to. "So nice to finally meet the man who is responsible for keeping our place so clean." Ashton chuckled, his eyes cast down. Colt released his hand reluctantly. "You have something. Some soot. Right there." Colt used his index finger to wipe at a non-existent spot on Ashton's cheek. Ashton reacted, stepping back. Ah…the touch of a man is unfamiliar to you. Yummy! Colt couldn't be any more pleased. "It's still there." Colt licked his fingertip and went back for another touch. Ashton retreated, wiping his own face. "I got it." "How often do you clean here?" Colt stared at Ashton's crotch, trying to judge the size of his package. "Monday through Friday. Every night." Ashton began to wipe shelves again, but appeared paranoid and anxiety ridden. "Really? Every night?" Colt had an erection that was throbbing in his suit slacks. "At the same time, every night?" "Sometimes later. It just depends if I can finish other jobs first." "Other jobs?" Colt sat on the corner of the desk. "I clean two other floors here. It takes me a while." "All alone?" Colt pouted out his lower lip. "I can do it." "Well..." Colt stood. "In that case, I'm sure I'll see you again, Ash...You mind me calling you 'Ash'?" Ashton shook his head, but kept busy, not looking at Colt. "Goodnight, Ash. See you soon." "'Night." Colt licked his lips as he got a look at Ashton's tight ass when he went back to his cleaning. Heading to the elevator, Colt put his hand into his pocket and rubbed his stiff cock through the lining. Got you, you gorgeous motherfucker. Once you're in my line of fire, I always strike my target.
