...and the new Dave paused. Writing about Tim and Janet having sex was growing old, even if he kept coming up with new positions and methods. Dave (or, more exactly, Janet unwittingly occupying Dave's body) had had Tim and Janet having passionate sex atop the industrial strength copier with the machine taking pictures of them the whole time, and they were now making their way into the janitor's closet, not even noticing the copies they left behind.
Dave sat at his desk, erection threatening to burst his zipper, pressing into the underside of his desk. What the Hell was he going to have them do in the janitor's closet? --well, other than sex, of course. There had to be something novel he could have them do in there... What was in those closets, anyway? Mop bucket-- no good. Bleach-- definitely out, as were the other chemicals. Hmm. Floor sink...? Maybe. Dust pan, eh. Broom and mop? YES! One for each side of Janet!
Dave had just set pen to paper when a knock disturbed his concentration. Irritated, Dave looked up. He was DONE with his work for the day, who could be bothering him?!
"Need your waste baskets emptied, sir?" asked the janitor, poking his head around the door.
Dave stared for a moment, like a teen whose mom walked in on him masturbating. The janitor for this floor was about as unsexy as Dave could imagine. Fat, but not really obese, the guy's stomach hung over the belt of slightly too small pants. The janitor had apparently skipped shaving for the last couple days, leaving his face covered heavily with white and brown stubble. Deep set, tired looking eyes squinted at Dave. Greasy shaggy brown hair, thinning on top, showed the guy's age was a bit older than Dave had thought.
Dave automatically started to reach for his waste basket, ready to hand it over for emptying, when he realized he'd been tossing the pages of his "novel" into the basket as they filled. The janitor PROBABLY wouldn't look at them as they went into the paper recycling garbage bag, but...
"No thanks, they're fine," Dave quickly stated. The janitor produced a grunt as acknowledgement and shut the door.
'Dammit! Where was I...?' thought Dave, looking back down at the paper. An idea for expanding the scene he was working on struck him.
'Damn! Maybe I should get this published! I'm a genius!' he thought.
He wrote:
"Oooh! Harder! Harder!" Janet moaned as Tim pumped the end of the broom handle in and out of her dripping slot. At the same time she pumped her sexy ass on the handle of the mop.
"Whatever you want!" answered Tim.
Suddenly the door opened.
"What the HELL are you doing with my mop!" bellowed the janitor, staring at the couple.
"Uhm, nothing--"
Dave paused. What the hell was the janitor's name? He'd seen the guy more or less every day since he'd started working here. Bill? Bob? Bruce? Brian? Ben? Blaine? Brandon? Dave was pretty certain it started with a "B"... Shrugging he decided it really didn't matter, and chose the name he found most interesting.
"--, Blaine!" Janet replied anxiously, unconsciously straightening and forcing the mop handle a few inches further up her ass. Tim dropped the broom, and Janet moaned as the handle, dripping wet and slick, slid out of her body.
No one noticed as the janitor's name tag momentarily blurred, and his name was replaced by "Blaine".
"You know how hard it is to get shit off of wood?" asked the newly named Blaine.
"Look, I'll have a new mop bought for you, just don't tell anyone about--"
"I was just getting set to wash the rest rooms, I need it tonight," persisted the janitor.
"Hey, I have an idea how we can make it up to you," purred Janet seductively, eying the fat, middle aged and smelly--
'Wait! THAT was no good,' thought Dave, pausing. Unnoticed by him, the building was slowly emptying as people went home, and the sun dropped low in the sky. He'd started to write the janitor in to add some humor to the story, but the description of the guy was making him soft, fast. Dave scribbled out the man's description and started it over.
--eying the lean, athletic young man. Blaine was a high school boy moonlighting as a janitor part time. Janet didn't even know if he was old enough to drive, and his face seemed naturally beardless. Blaine had hair died jet black with a dark red and bright yellow streak, which fell seductively over the left side of his face, hiding one of his clear, intriguingly green eyes. The boy wore skin tight, skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt, all of which showed of his exceedingly lean, skinny body.
As he wrote, the janitor's body grew younger, his whiskers changing to "peach-fuzz" then vanishing altogether. His gut deflated almost light a balloon losing air, his skin tightened up, its tone and color improving as he returned to youth. His pants momentarily became extremely baggy, then started dropping sizes and style, tightening until they rode low on his (now) skinny waist. Some pins appeared to one side of his crotch, reading "PROUDLY serving my corporate masters!" and "I trusted my government, and now I glow in the dark." His belt became wide and white, loosely circling his waist, looking as if it were in danger of falling off. His shirt, a company supplied, tan, short sleeved dress shirt, lost its collar and buttons, growing tight against his skin, and darkened. Blaine's now cobblestone abs became clearly visible behind a the cloth and a cartoon drawing of a zombie's head, with the words "Kiss Me?" emblazoned across the bottom.
The janitor, vaguely aware something had happened, something had changed, brushed the bushy lock of hair away from the his left eye (only to have it immediately fall back in place), and blinked in confusion. What had he been doing, lecturing these two adults?! They could, like, get him fired, easy. No one would believe him, a kid! And wasn't the guy some sort of big shot with the company?!?
Dave paused, enjoying writing about the boy's panic and confusion with his prior behavior. He decided Blaine hadn't recognized the couple in the office when he first saw them and, as an emo kid, had received a day's worth of hard time at high school from the jocks, and had been looking for someone to verbally take it out on. (His cross country team buddies hadn't been around to defend him, or something.) After thinking a moment, he continued.
"Huh?" Blaine replied, inarticulately. Janet found his clueless stare charmingly innocent. She'd just have to do something about that.
"You could, you know, join us," she suggested, slowly running her eyes up and down his body, licking her lips.
The boy gulped and felt the color rise in his face. A nervous smile came over his face.
"No way!"
"Yes, way," the young woman corrected.
Tim, meanwhile, was staring from one to the other, mentally playing catch up.
"Janet, isn't he a little..., young?" questioned Tim, quickly checking for security cameras. None were present, but he still was worried.
"YOU don't have to do anything, tiger, you can just watch, if you want," Janet suggested. She reached out and grabbed the young man. Grabbed him by the crotch. His dick, long (yet not quite adult length) and thin, was as erect as any man's dick you be.
Janet didn't notice the boy's penis shrink. Blaine did, but quickly forgot it as sensations flowed through his young body.
She gently pulled Blaine into the closet...
"Janet, you total slut!" laughed Dave, admiring his work, still unaware of the pen's powers. He considered what should come next...