A Glimpse

I am seated on a plastic bench, focusing on nothing and everything all at once. A well worn copy of, American Psycho, by Bret Easton Ellis in my hands. There were post-it notes in the book to mark some of my favorite passages; those passages having to do with gruesome torture and sex all at once. It shames me a little to know that every time I read these passages that I get turned on, even though the sex in the book always ends up with gut wrenching torture. The smell of laundry soap and fabric freshener are starting to give me a headache, or could it be the heat in this building, or the fact that I keep staring at the clothes in the dryers tumbling, tumbling, tumbling.

The door opens and the faint smell of fresh, outside air mixed with cigarette smoke waifs in the building. I think briefly about going outside and joining the smoking group but the sign to my left catches my eye:

"Please Do Not Leave Laundry In Washers or Dryers Unattended. The owners Of The Establishment Will Not Be Responsible For Stolen Items."

I'm not sure why the sign makes me stay seated, maybe I'm too obedient. Though my eyes have gone back to focusing on the clothes in the dryer, I know others in the building have turned with bored curiosity to see who has just joined them in the act of washing clothing. I do not have to look; I can see through the reflection on the machines stacked on the far wall that the person is male. I catch his scent. It's a cheap smelling cologne; I can't put my finger on exactly which one it is, but it at least smells good.

My eyes now focus on the male's back. He has blocked my view of the clothes in the dryer. He's of average height, weight, looks like lots of other male's roaming around the city. The only difference is he is not wearing a baseball cap, like so many other male's don. He takes a seat next to me and smiles, nodding his head. I smile back and turn my head towards the dryers...

The room has gone empty. There are no other persons; all the washing machine lids have been closed and I see myself sitting on one. I'm naked; my legs spread, my feet propped up on the washers beside the one I'm sitting on. The man's head is between my legs and my hips grind down on his face. I can hear myself making soft cooing sounds as I lean back and prop my elbows on the washers. My hands come up and begin to squeeze my ample breasts. My fingers catch my pink, hard nipples between them and I twist and pinch as the sounds coming from me get louder. The male looks up, a slight smile on his face as he flicks his tongue across my hard clit. I moan, "you lick my pussy so good, Mister."

He buries his face in my cunt and hums sending the vibration of his lips into my clit and making me throw my head back. He looks up, "it's so sweet, I could lick it all day."

I buck against his mouth as he sucks my clit into it. My moans get louder; my body starts to tremble; I whisper, "I'm going to come. I'm going to come." My whispers get louder, turning into yelling as I..

I jump and hear, "Miss? Miss?"

I feel a warm hand on my knee and blink a couple of times, turning to the sound of the voice. It's the male, of course, and he's smiling at me quizzically.

"You dropped your book."

"Oh."

I look in his eyes and pull my stare a way quickly. I am convinced that he will be able to read the entire fantasy if I looked at him too long.

"Thank you."

"I've read this book."

"Did you like it?" I'm still not looking at him. I am hoping to everything Holy that my skin is not as flushed as I feel, but being red-headed and pale-skinned means I cannot hide blushing very well. My voice sounds horse to me and I wonder if he hears passion in it or does he think that my voice is always just rough.

"I did. It looks like you like it quite a bit." He smiles.

I nod and blush again, hoping to hell he doesn't ask anything about the post-it notes; hoping to heaven that he's only read the book once and can't tell what places in the book are marked. I stare at the other sign on the wall:

"Please Put Clothes Loosely In Dryer For Better Performance. Ask An Attendant If You Need Any Help."

"I thought the book did an excellent job..."

I'm leaning down from the washers now; my legs spread apart in a front split position. The male is up on his tiptoes and my mouth is around his cock. I'm slurping and sucking, letting long lines of saliva fall from my lips as I thrust my head as far onto his cock as this position will allow. One hand cups his balls and massages them while the other is at the base of his cock stroking him as I bring my mouth up and down, up and down, sucking, licking, moaning...

"Mmm..you're so good at that."

Nodding my head, looking up at him, flicking my tongue across the small hole, rolling my eyes back as I taste his sweet pre-cum, shoving his cock back down into my mouth, sucking hard, moving my tongue around it, stroking, massaging....

"Hello? Are you listening? I asked you, don't you agree?"

"Oh. Yes. I do."

I quickly glance over at him again and there is that dumbfounded smile. I wonder if I should have agreed or not. What was the question? Jesus! I look like a complete idiot. I excuse myself, running my fingers through my always dis-shelved hair. I take a deep breath as I move towards the dryers.

The fantasies are not an uncommon thing for me. I have them all the time. I can take a mundane everyday life routine and turn it into a hot, messy, sexual encounter in seconds. I believe that this is why the sexual encounters in the book intrigue me so much. I have never read a piece of literature that was not a full-on erotic story with so much sexual detail. I sometimes wish that I did not have this ability to turn everything to sex. It becomes a little embarrassing when you are out in public. You get strange looks from people when you have finally snapped out of the fantasy and look around.

The last time this happened was two days ago at the grocery store. I was in the produce section checking out oranges when I looked up and saw a tall blond holding a zucchini or maybe it was cucumber; I really couldn't tell the difference, and she had a female friend with her; I think she was a brunette. Then bam! All of a sudden the woman is sitting on the pile of vegetables. She's naked and her friend is pushing the zucchini/cucumber in and out of the blonde's pussy while flicking her tongue across her small, perky tits. The women are having a fantastic time, creaming all over the produce and coming for each other over and over again.

When I snapped out of that one, an old lady was looking at me and shaking her head, while a squeezed to death orange, it's juices seeping down my hand, was held by a hard-breathing me. I smiled meekly at the lady and dropped the orange back into the pile. I wiped my hands on my jeans as I moved away quickly, keeping my eyes down.

I opened the door to the dryer and welcomed the smell and heat of the air escaping it. I started throwing the clothes in the provided basket in order to go fold them when I looked over and saw the man staring at me. I smiled again and he smiled back....

I'm bent over the washing machine; the male's cock moving in steady medium strides in and out of my cunt. I can hear the wet sounds of my very excited pussy as he buries his cock to the hilt. From my third party viewing of the fantasy, I can see his cock pull out to the tip. It's glistening, wet, and hot; I imagine that I can see it pulsing a little as he becomes more excited with each thrust. We're groaning, grunting, moaning, yelling, cursing. I can hear all of the, "fuck's, shit's, goddamn's." As the fucking really gets going. I beg, "fuck me, fuck me please. Oh God, it feels so fucking good."

His words hardly hearable and under his breath, "so fucking wet, so tight, fuck your cunt's amazing."

"Excuse me!"

Little old lady, to my right, I'm blocking the passage to the other dryers with my cart.

"Oh sorry."

I can feel my skin is hot. My breathing has become irregular from the things that keep coming into my head. I try to ignore this; I try to ignore the throbbing I feel between my legs. I press my legs together but that only heightens the feelings; I spread them apart. I move over to a folding spot and see the man isn't there anymore. I feel relieved, maybe the thoughts will go away. But then I hear his voice coming from behind me, and I jump a little, "I had to get up to move my clothes to the dryers and I didn't want to leave your bag unattended so here you go."

He hands me my bag and our fingers touch; this sends more sexual sensations through my body. My voice is even more harsh almost whispering, "thank you very much."

"No problem."

I turn back to my pile of clothes.

I'm hanging on to the inside part of the dryer. My body is stretched in mid-air as I watch the male thrusting into my cunt. My breasts bounce every which way with the force of his thrusting. My eyes are closed; my teeth are biting into my lower lip and I am squealing. I'm too far gone to make any other sounds; the screams have stopped, and all I can produce are loud high-pitched squeals as my legs tense against his ass and my pussy squeezes around him. His thrusts are hard and steady, grunts escape his lips, the sound of skin hitting skin, the wet sounds of pussy echo through the air...

I wake myself up this time because I realize that in real life little sounds are ushering from my throat. I grab the laundry and shove it unfolded into my own laundry basket. I must go home.