Outside once again, Jon enjoyed the feel of the sun on his exposed skin. This island vacation was great. He briefly wondered when he was going to meet the girls that were promised, but dismissed his worry. He'd run into them eventually; nobody puts together a big vacation resort like this without taking everything into account, right?
He examined his new outfit. The ruffles under his black skirt kept it from pressing too tightly against his body, leaving his nether-region exposed to any breeze that might come along. That would come in handy on a hot day, Jon figured, and since that day was hot, he was glad to have found his new outfit.
Sure, he kind of missed his old one, it had been so practical, but he'd given it away in a fit of generosity. He didn't think he could face the shame of asking for it back from all those nice guys. They'd been so supportive and encouraging, after all.
Besides, the new outfit had its advantages too. Along with the ruffled skirt, he now wore a cute black hat, just in case the sun started to get to him. He didn't want to get heat-stroke, after all. The nice black bra he wore even came with breast forms, which was good because he didn't have breasts himself. At least he would be saved the annoying feeling of a loose bra fastened around him.
Once he had laced up the corset-style top that showed a goodly amount of cleavage (just enough to cool him down), he slid on his new fishnet stockings (not too covering so as to heat him up, but just enough to keep him clean while he tidied), and his five inch heeled shoes (so he could reach those hard to get places while dusting). In the mirror back at the bar he'd seen that his reflection told him what he already knew. He'd found a perfectly practical and workable outfit for the task at hand.
The building next door to the bar was a large house with three large Greek letters over the front door. Jon wondered if that meant that it was a frat house. Probably, he figured. He'd seen how messy his older brother was when he was back from college; a frat house would need someone as neat and tidy as Jon.
He wiggled up the front steps and knocked on the door. After a moment a large boy wearing a football jersey opened the door. His breath smelled like beer. He had a strange leer on his face.
Jon liked him instantly. There was something trustworthy about him. The boy welcomed Jon (how nice!) and led him inside, showing him around. There was clutter in every room, empty beer cans, ash trays, dirt, filth, but Jon looked forward to the challenge. He visualized each task, making a mental note of everything he saw out of place.
The boy who gave him the tour wasn't the only boy there, either. Each room held at least five other students. They all leered at him the same way the first boy had. Jon would never have expected to see such a wonderful and trustworthy group together like this in a frat house. He'd always heard that frats were houses of debauchery, know for sex, drugs, parties. These boys, however, all looked at him with such leers of respect, he figured he'd never felt safer before.
With the tour out of the way, Jon started his tasks. Every little thing he picked up, everything he set straight, his pleasure increased. How could he have not known how fun cleaning up was? Sure, he'd always been neat, but this was something else, something more.
The first room he started in was a large den with a crowd of boys playing a video game. They all noticed him when he came in, each one whistling and cheering. One boy said something very sexual about Jon's ass. How nice! Jon thought with a smile. It always felt good to receive a compliment.
He started by straightening the bookshelf, standing on a step stool to reach the top shelf. When he felt the air conditioning on his be-thonged behind, Jon once again thanked his lucky stars for finding yet another wonderful outfit.
From his perch Jon looked at the boys who were, in turn, looking at him. They probably didn't want him to fall, he figured, so considerate. It was then that Jon noticed the stain on the jeans of one of the boys, a tall dark haired boy with a knowing grin on his face. That would never do. Jon hopped down and wiggled over to the boy.
"Sorry to disturb your game," Jon said, "but I've got to clean you up!"
The stain was on the boy's crotch, right over a very noticeable bulge, which was handy. Made it easier to get at the stain! Jon looked around for anything he might be able to use to clean it, but found nothing.
"Oh well," he giggled to himself, enjoying the challenge, "looks like I'll have to do it the hard way!"
Kneeling down in between the boy's legs, Jon ran his tongue up and down the bulge in the boy's pants, effectively soaking the stain. If you wanted to get a stain out, you had to get it wet. After a few minutes of licking, Jon started gently rubbing the wet spot, not too hard (he didn't want to rub in the stain, but rather to rub it out). He ran his hand up and down the bulge, up and down and up and down, gripping it slightly, but not so hard as to cause pain.
The boys in the room seemed to be enjoying the show. Who knew that frat boys liked cleaning so much? They hooted and hollered, much like the friendly men at the bar next door had done. The boy with the stain just leaned back and smiled. His bulge seemed to be getting bigger, throbbing, even. That was a good thing, since it would probably make his task easier.
Much to Jon's dismay, though, the stain didn't seem to be coming out! He paused to think, allowing his hand to rest, lightly gripping the stained bulge. He was going to have to launder these jeans. There was no two ways about it.
"Sorry about this," he said, sheepishly as he undid the boy's belt, button and zipper. He felt terrible as he slid the garment slowly down the boy's legs. Jon was old enough that he should be able to clean a simple stain!
He blushed in shame as he ran his hands up and down the now exposed thighs of the boy, making sure that he hadn't scratched them while taking the jeans off. That would have been the final humiliation. They seemed fine, though, on close examination. He'd checked thoroughly, bringing his face close enough to feel the heat off the legs.
The boy's underwear, on the other hand, was not doing as well as his legs. The bulge in them showed that the stain had slightly seeped through the jeans. It wasn't as bad as it was on the jeans, but it was still there. Here was Jon's chance to redeem himself. With a renewed sense of purpose, Jon got to work. He gently licked the bulge through the underwear, even pausing to suckle a little on the tip of the bulge; it seemed to leak slightly from there, and he didn't want any new stains added to the mix.
Then, with the stain nicely soaked, it was time to soak it up. A brain wave hit him. His ruffles! They would be perfect at soaking up the stain! He stood up, the turned around and lowered himself onto the bulge in the boy's underwear. Uncoordinated as he was, he mostly ended up rubbing his nearly bare ass on the boy's lap, but he was sure that the ruffles were hitting the stain enough to soak it up. To be sure, he swiveled and rubbed, enjoying the warm sensation of the bulge on his ass crack, sure that it was a sign of the stain being absorbed.
Then, with a moan, the boy reached around and grabbed Jon's handy breast forms, pulling him down onto the boy's lap. The boy thrust his crotch a couple times, then, with the bulge spasming, Jon felt a warm fluid spread over his ass. He liked being held by the boy, he trusted him enough to not do anything unprincipled, so he felt safe in his arms. It was the warm wet feeling he didn't like. It made him nervous.
When the boy stopped spasming and let him go, Jon stood up and saw that his greatest fear had come true. He looked down at the underwear of the frat boy and saw the white gooey liquid he still felt on his ass, now also running down his stockinged legs. He'd done it. He'd made another stain.
Blushing again with shame, Jon knelt again, pulled the underwear off (too add to the laundry) licked the source of the bulge clean and wiggled out of the room in search of the washing machine, jeans and underwear in hand. He figured he'd probably have to wash his cleaning outfit, too, since it seemed to have shared in the boy's latest stain.
With a frustrated sigh, Jon stripped as he walked through the house, looking for some place to wash clothes. It seemed that every time he found a nice, practical outfit, he lost it somehow. At least the island was full of these nice friendly guys who, he was sure, would bend over backwards to help him out in any way he needed.
