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"Laundry Night" Part 1 of 4

      by Maddogg

      (F solo exhib interracial)



"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.

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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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