Solo/laundry3
                                          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.

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                     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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