A Knock-Out Summer
Disclaimer: Nothing is owned but my words and currently nameless O.C.
Notes: This was borne out of a spontaneous question of "Is there Mr. Clean fanfiction?" Yes, yes there is. And now I have added to it. This was never the plan, but it happened. And now I'm sharing it.
Summer vacation. Parents doing their normal work routine, but I'm stuck at home with more chores than ever. I resist doing them. I mean, I try. It's not like I like getting yelled at, but it's practically impossible to get them all done. I just…don't give enough fucks…
So, I ate, watched t.v., surfed the internet, made my bed…ignored the dishes, gathered the laundry…played my PS2, eyed the kitchen floor… Didn't look that dirty to me honestly, but it was sweeping day. Instead I started the washer.
Now the bathroom was pretty bad. I made an attempt, but it was so impossible. And gross. Nothing got up the stains. We had a nasty-smelling tub and tile cleaner that was supposed to do the job, but you try telling it that.
I did mostly everything except the bathroom and stood in there, staring at it defeated. It just couldn't be done. Too much, too tough. I swept in there. That was at least something. Instead, I decided to add a bit to the hard water problem and took a shower. I wished I didn't have to clean it. And I wished it wasn't so goddamned hard to clean.
I got out of the shower. The rug wasn't there: it had gone outside to be beaten and aired out. As I stepped, my heel slid and I went to regain my footing. Then I realized I was slipping far worse than I thought. It was a second before my head was cracking against the floor.
***K.O.!***
As I came to, my head ached, my ears rang. I felt cold and uncomfortable. The back of my head felt wet and sticky as I rolled to the side. I started to pick myself up and saw blood. Shit. Was I okay? I knelt and touched my fingers to the back of my head. They came away red, but it didn't seem to be as bad as it could be. Just something else to clean up before it stained.
Then something moved in my peripheral. I looked and fell back against the tub as I jolted away. A tall, buff man dressed in all white was kneeling down next to me. My mouth opened to scream, but I wasn't sure if I should. He put his fingers to his lips and pulled out a cloth. He sprayed and wiped the blood spot, before turning to me again. I stared at him, panting quietly. There was no fucking way Mr. Clean was in my house right now. I was hallucinating right?
He beckoned me closer and offered a pair of long gloves and cleaning solution. I slowly leaned forward and took it. He smiled reassuringly at me as I continued to gawk at him. He flipped up the lid of the toilet and motioned. I crawled over, too shocked to be embarrassed by my nudity though it was far too late to hide it anyhow. Numbly, I began spraying and scrubbing the toilet, with tools that seemed to magically appear as I needed them. Everything shimmered and seemed to become bleach-white as I worked. At one point I looked over my shoulder and found him just about through with the entire shower to my shock and awe. I had never seen it so clean. It almost glowed.
When I looked back to my task, I realize I had finished and it looked amazing. Sparkling in fact. I began cleaning the area around it. Not much went through my head. I seemed to be on auto-pilot. It felt like a daydream.
Then I saw him over at the far sink—we had two in a long countertop. I made to get up from my knees and wobbled as I tried to stand. I leaned heavily on the counter and even though I did, I still felt really unsteady.
Then he was behind me, holding me up and pinning my lower body against the counter in a standing position. I looked up at him in the mirror and he nodded. I nodded back and began my work. His pants felt nice against the sensitive skin of his bottom and thighs. The cool smoothness of the counterface didn't deter the good feelings either. The scrubbing movements made me shift subtly back and forth against him.
I set the supplies down and rinsed my hands before looking up at him in the mirror. I bit my lip as our eyes met. This was unreal.
He then turned me around and lifted me up onto the counter. I was sure things were about to get really weird. But instead he turned and gave me a piggyback ride through the house. That was pretty weird. A naked piggyback ride on Mr. Clean. To make it weirder, I got stiff with my goods pressed up against his broad back. However, he didn't acknowledge it and proceeded to helped me clean the whole damn house and by the time we were done even my skin seemed brighter and paler than normal.
I was feeling a little tired after all that cleaning and he set me down again in my bedroom. What a pal. Of course, as with every other time, having my front pressing and shifting against his soft clean shirt made me hard. So I sat there, still very naked with a hard-on looking up at this towering bald man.
"Hey, thanks so much for everything," I said woozily. He gave me a smile and a thumbs up. I leaned back a little, parting my knees. "Can you do one last thing with me? You can think of it as another favor, or as a thank you, or just something fun. You're the one who made me this way after all." He smirked at me and wagged his finger like I was being a naughty boy—and I was. But then he came over to me and lowered himself to the bed. I tell you, after he was done doing everything he'd did to me I had never smelled more amazing in my whole life. I felt clean and fresh in places that…whew. It was a deep clean, know what I mean?
He surprised me by first licking me thoroughly, which was heavenly, let me just say. I got a full rager from that.
Then he stood at the edge of the bed and lifted my hips to enter me. I shuddered and moaned. Once he was in good, he moved his hands to my thighs and held them up and apart while he fucked me. I was the cleanest hot mess you'd ever seen.
"I-I'm gonna cum," I finally whimpered to him like a helpless little girl. He held my hips and made each thrust hard and deep while I reached my peak and I loved him for it. I came so hard and squeezed down on him so tight, he had difficulty moving, but he powered through. After I came, he let me have my fill and released deep inside me. "Oh my god," I moaned over and over, cum trailing over my belly.
He pulled out and laid me properly on the bed. He sat and kissed my forehead. I looked up at him. "Will I see you again?" He smiled and gave a nod. "Good…" My eyes fell shut for a moment until I heard the sound of tearing paper towel. I opened them again and saw a paper towel in a large hand attached to a thick, tan hairy arm. It wiped up the mess on my stomach and I looked up at the rest of the man. He looked like a beardless lumberjack. My eyes widened. No way…
It was the Brawny man…