A Laundromat Nightmare
by Kyle Tucker
Don hates doing the laundry, maybe that's why he only goes after he has worn some things twice. Nothing eventful ever seems to happen. Tonight will be different.
Sitting alone on this rainy night, doing the dreaded laundry, thinking he should have remembered to bring a magazine, Don suddenly watches the door open. In shuffles a raincoat clad figure, haplessly stepping on the laundry that dangles from the basket. It looks like they dragged it a good ways before stepping on it. "What a dick" Don thinks as the basket is dropped just inside the door. The door closes, catching the trail of clothes as it swings shut, pulling more from the heap onto the soggy floor. Out of reflex the loser reaches for the falling pile and in doing so kicks the laundry, wedging it under the door. As they bend down to get it out from under the door the pile slides more toward the floor and they bump their head on the door as they reach for it.
As interesting as this is to watch, Don moves to help. Laundry really isn't that bad, but a bad attitude while doing it is sort of a tradition with Don. Trying to be a wise ass Don says, " Well if you do that on the way out you'll really be pissed" as he holds the door at the proper angle to unwedge the... Whoa that's a nice set of ladies undies he realizes.
"Oh thank you so much". is the reply from under the trench coat, in a very female voice." That's a great way to look at things like this." I was going to let it piss me off until you pointed out it's not so bad on the way in."
"Well if that cheered you up, picture what you looked like from my point of view, pretty funny the way I saw it"
With that Don hears a giggle that sounded like an Angel. Brushing away her hood and hair she looks at him from her knees and smiles a great smile. Being that she is inches from his crotch and gorgeous, her lingering smile causes the blood to rush though his veins, blushing his cheeks and putting a"twang in his thang" as he liked to say.
At the last second before her gaze dropped back to the fallen laundry she seemed to notice his crotch so close to her face and half glanced at it as her eyes returned to her hands. Don followed her gaze down to the wonderful pink frilly panties that had been on the floor. Fighting off the urge to say something like, "Boy, your panties are really wet - aren't they" he holds the door in silence.
"Boy, my panties are really wet." she says as she gets up off her knees, laughing that wonderful laugh.
Twang, - definitely movement.
In silence he watches this marvelous woman load her cloths, put in her coins and soap until finally sitting on the bench beside him. Looking at his washer in front of them he stares as the wash tumbles through the soapy water.
"Now I know why I hate doing laundry so much." she says.
"Yea, me too. I don't even think about doing it until I run out of underwear," he says realizing what a stupid think it is to say to a beautiful stranger.
"Tell me about it," she says, "I haven't had on underwear for days." she says as she realizes what a stupid thing to say to a stranger.
There is definitely some adult electricity going through the air; but He like She can handle it. Ignoring the obvious tension she says, "Yea, I'm naked under all these clothes."
Again that giggle.
"She likes Me." he thinks, smiling a deep smile as he searches her eyes.
With an impish smile she stares back as she reaches in her purse and pulls out a cigarette. After lighting it she stands up and takes off the rain coat revealing a perfect body clad in a tube top and mini skirt.
She told me she has no panties on - he thinks - there is definitely a twang in his thang now.
Walking back and forth she says nothing verbally, but everything silently. She has to be a dancer at a titty bar, the clothes, the body, the sophistication for her years; and she is perfect and cute and bubbly and flirting with Don.
She looks out the window as she leans slightly on a dryer, hiking her short skirt up to what must be the exact end of her legs.
Don can't resist staring and becomes hypnotized at the sight. Suddenly he realizes that she is watching him stare at her fine ass through the reflection of the window. When his eyes meet hers she giggles and drops her cigarette to the floor. Slowly sticking her long leg out to put out the butt, she pivots perfectly on it as she turns, walks over, and sits right beside him.
"I'm having dirty thoughts," she says as she touches his leg.
"Well my laundry is almost done but I don't mind leaving ..."..that's when he sees it. The Skid, the King of all skid marks.
Plastered in his washing machine, the only operating laundry machine in the entire place besides hers is the mother of all skidmarks, perfectly framed in his temporarily paused machine. Lilly white Hanes briefs tainted hideously with the nastiest black skid mark ever seen. "Come on machine ... start spinning ," he thinks to himself.
Don doesn't know if it's the expression of horror that is plastered on his face, or the reference to the laundry cycle or just chance, but he looks back at her just in time to watch her eyes and expression change as she realizes what stopped him mid-sentence.
Conclusion- A Laundromat Dream
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