Archive-name: Solo/laundry3.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Laundomat Encounter - 3





 She kept moving her body, trying to make sure he paid

attention to her, watching the lump of maleness at junction

between faded material of his jeans to ascertain if it was

swelling.

 She'd sat, turned over and untied the top of her suit, lying

back down, but not before he could glimpse the naked swelling

of her breasts, looking back at him from under the crook of one

folded slbow, eyes hidden, catching him staring.

 He was certainly interested, and interesting!

 The teasing was getting her really aroused, feeling the

slipperyness gathering between her thighs, almost hearing the

squishing as she tightened the muscles of her ass, mounded in

twin curvatures, making the cheeks flex. More teasing.

 She'd moved her arm, raising up until she could let him almost

see her nipples, asking him if he could go for a wine cooler in

this heat, tantalizing.

 She'd tied her top back on, slipping once, letting her naked

breast show, then headed for the kitchen after he'd nodded and

said that an ice cold wine cooler would really hit the spot.

 I know what spot he'd like to hit, she thought, smiling

silently to herself in the kitchen.

 Filling two of the tall cooler glasses with ice chips, (she

found them in a little store on fifth, that specialized in

blown glass, and bought six, at a horrible high price, but

she'd never regretted the cost), placing them in the freezer

compartment to frost, she poured white wine into the pitcher

then looking in the liquor chest, brought out a bottle of

vodka.

 Pouring a very hefty couple of jiggers into the pitcher, then

shrugging and adding another, she tasted it, wrinkling her nose

at the strength, wondering what she could do to cover the

strong vodka taste.

 Mint! She pulled four leaves from her fresh mint bush on the

patio, bending over and adding a little wiggle to her ass as he

watched, moving gracefully back to her kitchen to wash the

leaves.

 Powdered sugar in a saucer, the glasses now frosted, dipped

rim into the sugar to coat the top of the glass, pouring ice to

fill the glasses, pouring the wine and vodka over the ice

halfway up, adding a can of soda, and garnishing with two of

the fresh mint leaves each, Linda put the glasses on a tray and

walked to the patio.

 They had enjoyed the drinks, Linda feeling the surge as the

vodka hit her stomach, the fumes rising lazily into her brain,

the sun intensifing the liquor and her own thoughts popping

perspiration on her body.

 He'd explained about fitting a lock to the sliding glass doors

to her bedroom, both standing with the doors slid partly back,

Linda brushing him gently with just a touch of her breasts,

then once pressing her left breast firmly against him as they

bent to look over their heads at the top track for the door.

 It was fun teasing.

 The second drink went down almost as fast as the first. Linda

gathering the glasses, returning them to the kitchen as he

finished the back door lock, leaving the glass door half open,

waited until he'd moved his tool box and drill outside the

doors, with seeming unconcern had entered the bedroom from the

kitchen as he was measuring and taping a template to the metal

frame, untied the top tossing it on the bed, then wriggling,

tugged the bottom of her suit from her bottom, dropping it on

the floor, walking across the room full in his almost staring

vision, calling back over her shoulder for him not to mind

her, she was going to take a shower.

 Soaping, lathering, smoothing the suds over her very slippery

skin, she'd taken a very long shower, then opening the shower

door, peering into the bedroom, was delighted to find him

stark, lying on the middle of her bed, arms crossed behind his

head, cock up, hard and throbbing, staring at her as she ambled

over to the bed still wet.

 Droplets of water sparkling on her smooth hide, Linda stood by

the bed looking. His hand grasped the thickness of his cock,

moving the foreskin gently to cover and uncover the bulbuous

head, smiling at her nudity.

 They'd made glorious love, him sliding his thickened cock into

the more than slippery slit between her thighs, both clasping

each other, legs astradle his body as she rode his prick as she

would be riding a pony. Her hands flattened on his chest for

balance, her breasts peaked with desire, feeling the head of

his prick thudding deeply into the wet hot cavern as his hips

lifted both of them clear from the bed with each upward stroke.

 She'd sensed his growing frenzy indicated he was about to fill

her cunt with his male wetness, and she'd spun, almost falling,

off, his cock freed from it's capture between her thighs, now

was trapped between her hands. Her mouth hovering over the

lubricated and juicy head of his cock, squeezing with both

hands, making the darkened head swell alarmingly, jacking his

cock off with lips open and waiting to catch his spurts of cum.

 Cum he had. Jets of creamy white and silver juice, spurting to

fill her mouth, the over load running from the corners of her

soft lips as she eagerly suckled at the spurting organ,

savoring in rememberance the almost forgotten flavor, then the

sweet aftermath when later they had made love again, first

slowly, then with increasing frenzy until he filled her

writhing belly with hot sperm.

 The surprise when after tenderly fucking her pussy, shooting

his sperm deep within and between her thighs, he'd moved

between her legs, licking and tasting her slot, running his

tongue over the bush of her hair, savoring the juices emitted

by both.

 Finding out that he liked to taste the combined love juices,

running his tongue deeply into her pussy, even bending her legs

up high, spreading them wider, forcing his face between her

thighs, digging his tongue deeper into her cunt, lapping and

delving around the slitted hole, rising to show her, on his

tongue the residue of their lust.

 Astounded that any man would want to run his tongue up a hot

steaming cunt that he'd just fucked and cum into, but loving

the feeling and depravity he brought to her.

 Turned on again by the thought, she'd sucked him hard again,

then licked his body all over, savoring the salty sweat, the

crease at the bottom of his spine, lapping broad tongued at his

tightening testicles until he'd grabbed her, making her kneel

with her elbows supporting her upper body, ass high in the air

while he knelt between her calves and inserted his cock from

behind.

 Fucking long stroked, balls dangling beteen her thighs, her

face looking backward up from under her body past her hanging

breasts, watching his slippery thick cock vanish into her wooly

opening, to reappear covered with her slick wetness.

 His hands using her hips as handles, pulling her willing ass

back onto his cock, until with rapidly quickening lunges, he'd

cum again, matching her orgasms, and then knelt and sucked her

off from behind, tongue slithering deeply into her almost over

worked cunt.

 She sighed, remembering.

 Her mind still on the summer's day, Linda drove with automatic

movements, pulling into the almost empty parking lot by the

laundromat, glancing at her watch, shocked to find the it was

after one in the morning.

 Where had the evening gone. Gathering her mesh bag, entering

the bright flourescent light of the laundromat to find the only

other soul present was a young unsmiling man, lost in his own

thoughts, paying no attention to her at all.

 She placed her mesh bag on top of a washer across the room

from him, watching him carelessly loading the machine with his

dark jeans and mixing the towels in with his shirts and shorts.

Another dumb bastard that doesn't know how to wash clothes she

thought, thinks that woman's place is in the home, can't be

bothered to learn simple household tasks, but thinks that he

knows.

 "You really ought to wash the white's in one machine and the

dark's in another."

 Not too bad looking. Better if he'd smile, she thought. Nice

eyes, deep set.

 "You work here?" His voice more tenor than baritone, but not

bad.

 She chatted him up, convincing him to sort his clothes, then

left to walk across the room to the mesh bag on top of the

washer. Bending, presenting her ass to his inspection, wiggling

slightly for his admiration.

 He definitely must be single, he's alone, and I'm going to

fuck him.

 She teased him with double meaning conversation, moved her

girlish panties and bra's over, convincing him to put his

clothing in with hers, startled a bit to realize his pants were

sticking out like a tent in the front, a hard prick thrusting

out the grey material of his slacks, and a spreading stain of

wet gathering at the tip of his tent.

 Convincing him to go into the bathroom and remove his pants so

she could wash them for him.

 He in the single stall, naked, while she tossed his grey

slacks into a washer, returning to the bathroom. Prowling,

walking up and down on the cold cement floor, nervous, talking

too much, chattering almost, to the closed door and his

silence.

 Telling him about herself, but not receiving even a grunted

reply to her too fast conversation, her sexual needs rising,

wanting him to open the door so she could see him and his naked

body, to evaluate.

 Pacing, passing the closed stall door, Linda could see that he

was sitting on the john, through the cracks both at the hinge

and lock side of the door, once stopping her pacing back and

forth to tug the handle, finding it locked against her pull.

 Cocking her head, listening.

 Sounds of movement, rhythmical motions.

 "What are you doing in there? You're breathing funny!"

 She knew what he was doing in there, he was jacking off.

 She grinned, good, he was turned on by her.

 As long as she stopped him before he came, he'd be her's for

the night.

 She started opening the buttons on her shirt, pulling the

material wide,

spilling her pert breasts from the opening, unzipping the

Gloria Vanderbuilt Jeans, leaving the gap open to show the

curly tangle of her pussy hair, preparing to make him open the

door, anticipating his startled look as he would realize she

was partly naked, and his for whatever lustful perversions he

wished. She felt super horny, the wetness gathering at the

anticipation, taking a deep breath to push her breasts out,

started pulling at the door handle, rattling the flimsy door.

 Too late, one eye pressed to the crack, watching as his hand

slid rapidly over the shank of his prick, swelled and almost

gross, watched the pearly grey liquid shooting in rivers from

his cock, splattering on the cement floor.

 Astounded by the amount of his cum, the wasting of his juices

on the floor when she plannned on having it up inside her

pussy, bathing her belly with his sperm, and he was wasting it

on the floor!

 The running stream coating his fingers still gripping, the

pulses of fluid still oozing over the crown of his cock,

dribbling down his fingers to drip onto his balls. Occasionally

another spurt, splattering again to the floor.

 Jesus, but he could cum.

 It must have been a year without sex to store all that lovely

juice. Her imagination savored the jetting liquid.

 Her frame shook, an orgasm tightening her body, just watching

the river flow, seeing the globs of sperm on the floor.

 Then her anger struck.

 "You bastard."

 The feeling of being so fantastically horny, and this prick

going to waste on a cold cememt floor.

"Your jacking off in there ...

 The rest of the conversation and her actions were a blur,

anger clouding her thinking, remembering throwing his pants

over the top ot the stall and storming out.

 Driving home, clean clothes still wet, dripping over the back

seat, thinking about putting them in the dryer tonight.

 She cried, frustrated....tears blurring her vision as she

drove.

 Now, remembering last night at the laundromat, she cried

again.



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