"Laundry Night" Part 1 of 4
by Maddogg
"Ring Dammit!" exclaimed Pam Stone, directing her anger
at her obstinately silent telephone. After a moment
she sighed, dejectedly accepting, if it hasn't rung by
now, it wasn't going to.
She glanced at the clock. Eight thirty on a Saturday
night. No plans, no prospects. Pam had left messages
for at least a half dozen friends over the past couple
of days trying to connect. Not one had extended the
courtesy of calling back. She hated the idea of another
Saturday night alone with NOTHING to do.
Well, not really nothing. She knew she could always go
out alone and hit the bars. She hated going out alone.
She also hated the kind of guys she met in bars. Oh,
she had no problem going home with a guy for sex, but,
eventually they always seem to want to talk to her.
See her again. Call her. Date her. Sometimes fall in
love. No, hitting the bars tonight is out of the
question.
She was still young, only 24. She wasn't interested in
any type of relationship just now. Her life was too
complicated. Her career was still in it's early
stages. She had other interests that took up her time
too. She wanted to taste life before she packed it in
to become someone's wife.
Why couldn't she just find a guy who would fuck the
shit out of her once in a while and go about his
business? She knows these guys exist. Her girlfriends
are always talking about them.
"Ah well," she muttered to no one, "I guess I have to
get it over with." She couldn't put it off any longer.
She was of course, referring to her laundry.
It had been nearly 3 weeks before she had gotten around
to it. She wasn't making enough money yet to send it
out. Her real reason for wanting to hook up with a
friend tonight was to avoid the inevitable. She knew
she had to do the laundry and was looking for an excuse
to put it off another day.
It really was for the best. Even the T-shirt she was
wearing had a tea stain on it. She couldn't change to
a clean one because she didn't have a clean one. She
began the task of getting her bags of dirty clothes
together along with her laundry supplies and headed to
the laundry room in the basement.
She really wasn't worried about security. She lived in
an upscale building in New York City. There was a
doorman in front all the time. Her only concern was,
it was hot down there. The laundry room wasn't air
conditioned. It can get hot and humid in July,
especially in the laundry room. She had complained
about this fact to Mr. Jones, the building super. He
just shrugged his shoulders and walked away muttering
that there wasn't anything he could do about it. To
aid her comfort a little, she shimmied out of her jeans
and pulled on a pair of short cut-offs.
As was her habit when she changed clothes, she looked
at herself in the mirror. She had black shoulder
length wavy hair. She wore a 36C bra. At her age,
her boobs had not yet started to sag. They stood
straight out. She thought for a while she could stand
to lose an inch or two off her tummy and her ass, but
she rarely got complaints. Besides her ass also hadn't
started to sag either. She thought the two round globes
of her ass firmly jutting outward looked kind of good.
It took her 3 trips from her apartment door to the
elevator to carry all 4 bags of laundry, her detergent,
change purse and keys plus a trashy romance novel she
was reading to kill time.
It took another 3 trips from the elevator to the
laundry room to get all her laundry there. She wasn't
surprised that no one was down there. Who in their
right mind would be doing their laundry on a Saturday
night? Half the building was probably away for the
weekend at the Hamptons or the Jersey Shore. The other
half was probably out or on the way. It was a small
consolation knowing she would have the room to herself.
She loaded all 3 machines with about half her laundry
plus detergent. As an after thought, knowing she would
be alone, she peeled off the dirty T-shirt she was
wearing and tossed it into one of the machines. This
exposed most of her body leaving nothing on but her
bra, the cutoffs and panties plus a pair of sandals.
She then inserted the appropriate number of quarters to
get things going. Having done that she turned to the
corner of the room where a bench sat that people used
to sit on and fold their laundry when it was done.
"Damn." she muttered. One leg of the bench had been
broken off by one of her inconsiderate neighbors. The
bench was there, but it was laying down and useless.
She made a mental note to speak to the super, Mr. Jones,
about this.
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She really didn't like Mr. Jones. He was one of those
old black gentlemen that you couldn't let intimidate
you. He shuffled along doing as little as possible.
Even though he was at least twice her age, he referred
to her as Ms. Stone and rarely looked her in the eye.
She had come from a wealthy Kentucky family where she
had been a debutante. Most of the servants were a lot
like Mr. Jones. She knew how to deal with people like
him. You have to be persistent and stern. They
usually are inherently lazy and will try get away with
whatever they can, but you can't let them.
She looked around the room for an alternate place to
sit so she could relax and read her book but a there
were no other chairs of any kind. "Great," she
muttered. She took a moment to consider her options.
The only thing in the room that might be sat on was the
washers themselves. She weighed about 120, and the
machines looked pretty solid so she decided to give it
a shot.
She grabbed her book and pulled herself onto the washer
on the end and straddled her legs on either side of the
corner. The machine was on and vibrating softly. She
opened her book and began to read.
This particular novel was one of her favorites. She
had read it before. The heroine of the book reminded
her of herself. She was a British noblewoman that
lived about 100 years ago. She was about her age and
very independent. The premise of the novel had this
woman on a visit to Arabia where she got lost in the
desert. A band of nomads found her. The leader of the
nomads was a young handsome man (of course) who has a
torrid affair with the woman.
In the part she was reading now, the woman had been
brought before the leader for the first time. The man
dismisses most of his followers (except 2 body guards)
in order to be alone with the woman. They do not even
speak the same language, but within a few moments they
are kissing madly and make passionate love.
After several minutes she noticed she was getting
really turned on by the story, much more than usual.
She stopped and considered this for a moment thinking
it may be because it has been nearly a couple of months
since she had any sex herself. Then she realized the
machine she was sitting on had gone into it's first
spin cycle, which was accompanied by a pronounced
vibration.
Without realizing it, she had leaned her torso forward
and was grinding her crotch into the corner of the
washing machine. As soon as she realized what she was
doing she jumped off the machine in embarrassment.
Then, after a moment she realized how silly that was as
no one would be coming to the laundry room tonight.
"Ok, what the fuck," she muttered and jumped back on the
machine and continued to read.
As the spin cycle continued she got REALLY turned on.
She felt her juices flowing. As the character in the
book was making love, she seemed to feel it herself.
After a few more minutes she was close to orgasm. She
was breathing fast and heavy. She had to put the book
down and brought up her left hand and started rubbing
her tits through her bra. She started to softly moan
out loud when the spin cycle ended just short of her
orgasm. "Dammit." she said frustrated. "Now what."
Then it occurred to her, this wasn't over. There were
2 more spin cycles before the laundry was done. Driven
now mainly with frustrated sexual lust, she was
determined not to miss another opportunity. In order
to maximize her stimulation, she jumped off the washer
and yanked down her cutoffs leaving on just her bra and
panties.
She then jumped back on the machine, this time facing
the machine. She leaned forward with her elbows on the
machine and her cunt grinding down on the corner that
had caused her so much pleasure a couple of minutes ago
and her pink bikini pantied ass straight up in the air.
The machine was vibrating softly in the wash cycle.
Even though this wasn't the spin cycle yet, she ground
herself cunt hard trying to get what pleasure she
could. Her nipples were very sensitive, so to increase
her pleasure she unsnapped the catch on her bra in the
front and let her ground her nipples into the machine
as well.
This was nice, but she could hardly wait for the next
spin cycle. It came a few minutes later and the
machine started to really shake. As she was already so
turned on, it took just a few seconds before she was
shaking her ass back and forth, closing her eyes and
moaning softly. "This was great." thought Pam. Damn,
was she horny!
After another minute or two her own shaking became more
violent and pronounced and her soft moans changed to a
loud staccato "Ah!", "Ah!", "Ah!,". Finally after
another 5 minutes she began to cum and really started
to yell "AAAAAHHHhhhh!", "AAAAAHHHhh!" and her whole
body was shaking uncontrollably.
Just about that time the second spin cycle ended. She
opened her eyes and for the first time noticed she
wasn't alone. All the color drained from her face and
her mouth fell open in horror. In the doorway of the
laundry room stood Mr. Jones!
...continues in "Laundry Night" - Part 2 - click here to continue...
[Note: this story is protected by international copyright law,
all rights not expressly waived are reserved by its author.]
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