FSE

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Some folks say working the night shift at a company building littered with floor after floor of box offices and narrow walkways at any point in someone's life was when they planned on slaving through rock bottom, even moreso when they weren't in any progressive job position-position that can be worked up for higher grade. So for a whale like Donnie, it was always sound to call his job a waste.

As a janitor.

And yet, he never solemnly agrees with a whole heart. He hesitates whenever someone comments on what he does to get by before saying 'it sucks' or 'it gets bread on the table at least', so there's something he's hiding. And tonight, with the building clear for a majority of floors, that little tidbit was about to seek fruition.

"Coast seems to be clear..." The whale had gone up a few floors, cleaning cart to his side as he waited for the number depicting the floor he was on to hit "74". It was a multimillion dollar gig that got around in the world, so you better believe that having more than at least 30 floors-double that with this place-in one building was a telltale sign of fortunate aspects. Such aspects included-once Donnie got off the freight elevator that opened into a hallway away from the offices-a break room with state-of-the-art entertainment systems, a pristine refrigerator, sleek microwave oven, and actual oven, baked goods that were replenished routine every other day, and a table meant for eating, socializing and using for table games.

There were also a few good bathrooms for men, women, and those between or off the spectrum, but Donnie wasn't hauling his big hide to any of that. Nope, he was flying solo since his cart was still back at the elevator.

He was heading for the gym.

"Mmmm, smells like they had a contest here..." Opening the double glass doors that led inside, Donnie was greeted with the waning scent of perspiration and effort all over the place. Glistening benches and equipment, dry footprints marked on the floor, and some handout towels discarded all over. If it weren't for the fact that Donnie saved this place for last, he'd be upset that this was the last thing he had to do.

But no, he was neck deep into the pleasure zone.

"Time for my workout." The rotund janitor began to shed his uniform, leaving his rather squishy physique to take in the somewhat muggy air in the area. His moobs were held up by a belly that hid anyone below the bellybutton from sight, a few scars from long-gone fishing days etched across the blubbery ball of softness taking over the middle. Every bit of navy blue on his body was as smooth as blades of grass, with his torso being the only off-color at a beige tint. He was getting some peach fuzz growing on him, with a nice little trail going on with his rather bombastic caboose, but that wasn't enough to take away from the real monster present on him.

That gaping, meaty, sopping wet pussy.

It looked like the opening to a ventilation system, seeing as Donnie was definitely heads taller than average to where he needed to bend down to fit past doors-last he checked, ten feet or so-so for anyone who was basically belly-height to him got a first-class view of that succulent beef. When he finally felt his underwear hit the floor, the first arcing step over the pool of clothes he just took off was met with a little tingle that sent a nice deluge of arousal on his uniform. Oh well, not like he left here clothed anyway.

The whale made his way through the empty gym, footsteps making his belly and butt jiggle freely after being trapped in clothes all day, and brought himself to the squat machine. He got down, pussy practically looking like a water tube, and whiffed at the back and the seat of the equipment. Raw sweat that no doubt dripped off many a backside wafted into his nose in the form of musk, and his cunny went right to work with drinking it all up as arousal.

"Fuck me... They must have been toning for the firmest...ass or something...Nnnnnmmm..." Yep, Donnie was into musk, and it seemed to be centered around what can exude from one's keister if properly maintained. But, seeing as he was all guy except for what was hanging between his thighs, the effects of inhaling masculinity had his body ready to take on a suitor and procreate. After about a couple minutes of sniffing, however, the well dried up and he was left hunching over the seat like a movie character going through the start of a transformation.

"Damn... need more stink..." The whale hauled ass to more benches, doing his best to at least savor the kick he got out of taking in the smell of back sweat, pure ass, and the rare leftovers of armpit, but alas it seemed everyone had been pressed to be on the squat machine today and there was hardly anything to get a good pace going. Poor Donnie was left awkwardly kneeling at the dumbbells bench like he was spotting some invisible patron, and righted himself before he took his environment. Still dark with a little illumination from the windows, no one inside, and no other equipment he hasn't been to y-

The locker room! Oh duh, he can scavenge for lost clothes!

The second he stormed in, he got swamped in a wave of man that left his thighs quivering. Ooooh, either they had been play-wrestling, gave each other some glory for their hard work, or really took their time with getting ready to shower, because every aisle was just as intense as the last in taking in aromas. Donnie's other senses mattered not besides sight and smell, and soon the fat whale was going for a particularly shiny bench that still had some fresh sweat on it.

Yes, he confirmed it was after getting down low to sniff it up close.

"Yeah... this is the stuff..." Was Donnie ashamed that he got off to smelling other people when they were completely unaware? Fuck no. Being a janitor for a high end company yet still getting paid barely above living wage was more than enough reason to prowl after hours for some fun. Half the workers treated his job like it was a handout anyway, who cared if he was caught or not. Getting fired was almost like the big prize after mopping up coffee stains from every floor and hot-pressing food crust off of the carpet on an almost day-to-day basis.

You bet your ass he got on that bench and let his pussy shoot like a fountain stream behind him as he pressed his nose into the wood and dug in with glee. He spread his butt, letting the air tickle his fuzzy taint, and inhaled like he was in space with a suit on hoping he wouldn't get surprised by a rock impacting his helmet.

"Fuck... this is Jonathan... no doubt." Donnie's been doing this for so long that he could tell individual smells, and the sweat he had marked on his face definitely belonged to one of the security guards from the mid floors. They were a tiger shark, and a real beefy one too. Never too modest to show off at least a little to any workers trying to gloat with each other about reps, and brushing past Donnie enough times to make him instinctively get in the way so he could feel their muscles drag against his uniform had him grinding on the bench.

His cunny was in heaven despite not having a finger to stimulate it, leaving a growing pool of slick on the floor that could easily be passed off as water if folks came in tomorrow, and inciting Donnie to grip the bench like his life depended on him holding on to grind harder. If he went faster, he might catch a little too much friction for his liking, but he seemed to be managing well once he dragged on the wood hard enough to get his clit pressing on it too.

"AHHH!" After a few deep pushes to make sure his button was nice and hammered down from his hips' movements, the whale came with a proud shout. The juices came out like shots from a power hose, marking the bench across the aisle and leaving the air thicker with the heat of the moment and the smell of pheromones. The volley didn't even stop traditionally; the strength of the shark's sweat had goaded Donnie into an orgasm so intense it left him stupefied enough to cum for almost three minutes straight. When he was down to squeezing out fluids, his head was still swimming and he was sure the hot air kissing his ass was the metaphorical steam from a worked-out pussy warmed up from that hands-free climax. But when he laid there for a minute and kept feeling the hot air, he dared to peek and squeaked out the most sheepish surprise you'd ever heard from a man as burly as he was.

For Jonathan was behind him.

"H-hey! Uh, Jon...!" The sheer awkwardness that befell the whale was hardly surmountable to the blush on his pudgy face, the comical display of him trying to take a seat on the bench without accidentally climaxing again with his relatively eruptive pussy, and ending with him having to gingerly sit with his legs close together instead of fully closed.

"Well now..." Ah those southern drawls belonging on hunks that look like they ate iron like children ate cereal for breakfast and bench pressing football field goalposts for sports never cease to get Donnie's loins going even in the heat of post-climax nervousness. "Ah wuz expectin' sum li'l reception twink up 'ere wit' me tryna score ah late shot at th' Lone Shark, not th' next bes' thang-fresh sea pussy."

Donnie was rooted to the bench as Jonathan crossed the short distance between them and granted him the gift of being faceful with their nudity. They didn't have a slit as traditional creatures of the waters did, and the whale got a steamed view of fresh shark meat hanging low between those trunks for legs before the predator leaned down to be nose-to-nose with him. However, instead of the usual double-trouble one would expect from a nearly stripeless shark like Jon, it was just one big flaccid pole flanks with rather pendulous balls. "Uh..."

"Don't be shy now, blub' o' fun. Ah was hopin' t' catch tail t'night anyhow. Yuh jus' happened t' figure out that ah showered here instead o' at home." The whale was struck completely dumb as they found themselves getting laid down on the bench, Jonathan crawling over that hill of belly blubber to get posed just right. There was little room to keep those meaty biceps glued to the sides of Donnie's head, so he opted for the last few inches-the portion that Donnie's pussy had laid slick on.

"We're r-really...doing this here?" It was hard to shake off that Donnie wanted to get piped by the shark looming over him like some gift from God, but even if he thought he had a lick of a chance at getting plowed by this chiseled statue of marine flesh, he didn't think it would happen the second he got caught masturbating to their sweat.

"Figured if yuh were gushin' 'cross aisles o'er some stink, yuh wouldn't wait through ah car ride t' get sum o' dis 'ere biter batter." The chatter was certainly warming Donnie up for a ride, alright, but his cunt definitely wasn't expecting a fully erect monster to cram their way through his somewhat inexperienced folds to make headway for his womb. A flash of thought towards protection came and went, seeing as not only was it too late to consider it, but also not really necessary. Sharks couldn't knock up whales.

...Right?

"Nnnnnn-fuck, y-you're big...." Donnie was really getting it, the macropredator going at it like it was a game of chase with gyrating hips and firm *plap*'s that made sure his clit was as swollen as a vagina that big would permit.

"Language now, sweet pea...~" Those shark teeth glinted in the light of the locker room as Jon laughed in the midst of securing a rhythm, leaving the whale to moan like they were trying to call for kinship to do the very job he was doing. "Wouldn't w-want no foul-mouthin' t' get yer ma seethin' in 'er bed."

"I would ho-hope not...!" Thinking of his mother definitely was not something he expected tonight, then again he wasn't expecting to get caught sniffing where someone sat down after a workout and being fucked by said someone, but it helped calm him down...kinda? He didn't feel the explosive readiness to cum anymore now that imagining his mother, who's probably nagging away in an elderly folks' home in her nightgown in actuality, came into play but at the same time he wanted to show that this little raunchy moment was doing numbers on him.

Then again, he thinks Jonathan was more than aware of such.

Things started to pick up once the shark brought his hands to Donnie's moobs and held on tight while his hips started aiming downward, leaving the whale clambering to stay aligned with moving their hips. In no time, their legs instinctively found themselves up trying to wrap around Jonathan's legs, but his bulky frame only allowed a little hook that was consistently rattled by the force of his thrusts and the sweat that this was generating.

"MmmmmmNNNNNGH!" Without anymore interruptive food for thought, Donnie's pussy came to the peak and fell gracefully, juices splashing against Jonathan like shower water having the flow interrupted from the faucet by a hand testing the temperature. The bench was soaked in more than just sweat, but that didn't slow down the shark.

"Damn ole boy... startin' t' think yuh weren't jus' 'ere fer stink... Not even muh e-ex came that hard..." The macropredator's relationship history mattered little to Donnie, as seen with them starting to fall limp in his hands, so he left things at that and got ready to make some leeway in that womb of theirs.

It was a sturdy conquest, one filled with many thrusts that missed the mark and left the surrounding wall covered in impacts, but one crucial pump inside that pussy got Jonathan wedged into the opening and he dug in graciously. Donnie's screaming was heard by no one else but Jon and the walls, and the subsequent orgasm that left those walls milking that veiny beast spreading them so freely almost had the shark buckling where he hunched over. But he held tough, and waited things out until he was clear to start making that slot his mine shaft.

"J-jon...!" The whale was lost in the seas of need, nerves ablaze and leaving everything on him twitching. His heart was racing, his toes and fingers were aching from clenching so hard, yet still his body found reason to reach new heights and cum anew. His moaning long since lost the melodic rhythm, now erratic and stuttered as each splash that left everything around them a deep pool of sexual fluids, and there was only more to utter as the shark persisted onward without a hitch.

"Ah kn-know boy, Ah'll give yuh sumthin'..." Smug, Jonathan started to fire off some precum, runny in texture but so copious it was like someone was taking a piss in Donnie's cunny and uterus, and leaving that whole passage warm and snug. It was slowly becoming a humid sheath for his 'longsword', and with every thrust that kept those walls latched onto his tender flesh, Jon was starting to think this whale of a good time was a whale made for him.

After all, his track record of bed partners wasn't something to be proud o-forty-nine and hopefully stopping.

"Please...I-i need your cum... Anything...!" Donnie was throwing all inhibitions out the window, shamelessly wrapping his arms around Jonathan's neck until they were pulled down by the weight of their blubber towards his lips. The kiss may have been driven by the lust of finally having one's crush decimate their hole, but it was an earnest one.

And one that helped with Jonathan's load, as that muffled "MMMMPHHHhhhhh....!" was swiftly followed by a literal flood of spunk making home inside of Donnie's womb. Every inch was not spared, and soon that belly began to grow to accommodate for the newcomers, but eventually it could stretch no further without inciting pain, and what didn't make it had fun oozing out past those frilly folds and staining both shark and whale. And the bench. And the floor. And the lockers once the pool began to extend yet again.

They both eventually ran out of air, Donnie more winded than Jon, and panted at each other's faces as their afterglows left them shining in the locker room's light. Within time, the shark finally broke the silence.

"Think uh... think we could both use ah shower 'ere, yuh reckon?"

It took Donnie a fair minute to reply, mainly because he chuckled a little at the on-the-nose humor Jon was gunning for there, but after dislodging his arms from their neck he nodded. "Yeah... we stink."

"'Ey now, it's ah good stink 'cordin' t' yer sniffer." With a shared laugh, they carefully got off the bench, which was now bent inward thanks to their collective weight, and gingerly made their way to the showers to get clean.

Both of them with hands on each other's butts.