Dirty Laundry

Once again, having had put off doing her laundry until the very last minute - which was Sunday evening in this case, Laura found herself loading a plastic blue basket full of her clothing. The only items of dress which were still clean were old and comfortable, and felt good against skin: old shorts, much too small for her now, and a very thin pink top, with thin straps on her smooth brown shoulders, and thin fabric below which didn't quite cover her navel. Gathering the last of her dirty clothes, which included all of her bras, panties, work clothes and outfits which she wore socially - on the rare occasion when she went out - socks, casual slacks, and so on, she looked for her detergent.

Making rent meant to economize, which also meant that every piece of clothing that she owned, save some shorts and a skimpy top, were all washed at the same time. She hoarded quarters for such occasions, especially after her last roommate moved out, and she swore that no matter what, she would never have another. No chance of betrayal, of being wounded by someone who was supposed to have been her friend.

Her last boyfriend, Bill, was sleeping with Laura's roommate behind her back. Laura had not suspected a thing, which had made it even worse when she came home one day to find them almost in mid-coitus near the living room couch, Bill's small but adequate cock swollen and red, and wet with Amanda's slippery discharge. They both stammered for an explanation, but it was obvious that there was none to be had. They were both completely naked and had obviously been fucking each other. Though by the time Laura had keyed and opened the front door after unexpectedly getting off of work two hours early, Bill and Amanda had found time to at least disengage and were in the act of standing up. She screamed for both of them to get out, trying not to look at Amanda's body, full large breasts and nipples perfectly placed an inch or so below the middle, slender hips and flat stomach, long legs and white milky skin. Laura had never seen Amanda naked before that moment, but it was something that she had never forgotten.

After that, and after Amanda had come back to remove the last of her personal possessions, Laura often allowed herself to fantasize about it even though it was a painful memory. It turned her on, and she didn't know exactly why - to examine it was painful - but sometimes at night, and even some mornings, she would find herself remembering that last vision of Bill and Amanda.

Laura would find herself teasing her clitoris and then furiously masturbating and bringing herself to a sweet and thorough climax. In most of these fantasies, she would find herself interrupting Bill and Amanda as had actually happened, but instead of feeling hurt and betrayed she found herself naked and with them, watching Bill's hard cock slide in and out of Amanda's dripping wet pussy. Amanda would have her head back and her mouth open, moaning incoherently while Bill sucked on one of Amanda's hard nipples. Laura would be licking and teasing the other one while gently cupping Bill's tight ball-sack, feeling his body tighten and knowing that he was going to come in less than a few more deep thrusts inside of Amanda.

And Amanda then came, and grabbed Laura's waist and urged Laura to bring her now soaking wet cunt above Amanda's waiting mouth, where Amanda skillfully and eagerly began to bring Laura to climax. Moving her tongue across Laura's engorged clit, Amanda would tease it, and then lick it harder until Laura couldn't stop herself from coming.

The fantasy sometimes changed, but it was always the three of them. She always found it silly afterward, because she knew that she would likely never see either of them again, and she had no desire to. The mere thought of ever seeing Bill again made her ill, and she was even more disappointed in Amanda, who had been a friend for over five years. It was just a fantasy, after all.

Even as recently as last night, more than eight months after it happened, Laura had found herself completely turned on by it again and had almost brought herself to orgasm before a noise had startled her from somewhere outside. It was the new neighbor, a handsome but strange boy who was rattling something quite loudly out on his balcony above her bedroom - Laura heard him curse whatever it was that made a loud noise. He then went back in through his sliding-glass door, whatever his name was, and the mood was then broken so she dozed off to the sound of her radio.

* * *

Laura had gathered her laundry, and found some detergent underneath the bathroom sink. She then stood, facing the mirror, and took in her appearance for no reason in particular. The thin top with small shoulder straps accentuated her small and firm breasts, her large red nipples easily seen through the fabric. Her waist, thin and slightly angled above the top of her shorts blended forward into a flat and smooth stomach.

She liked her own body.

Her long hair was pinned up, revealing completely her smooth and clear complexion, from years of abstaining from piling on too much makeup. As she turned to leave the bathroom, she looked back into the mirror to observe her ass. It was still, as it had always been in her opinion, her most sexy feature, although the few men that she had ever slept with had all told her the same thing: It was the entire package. Her breasts, although small, sported magnificent large red nipples with areolas that puffed out pleadingly, as if longing to be sucked. Her ass was perfectly proportioned to her body, and had enjoyed being grabbed while she was on top. Her shoulders, smooth and perfect, as was the rest of her body.

So they said.

Especially Bill; Laura had counted Bill's opinion until she caught him with Amanda. She became disgusted with herself for allowing his memory to creep back into her mind, and indignantly stormed out into the living room, detergent in hand, grabbed the big plastic blue basket, and headed out toward the apartment laundry room.

Even though it was dark out, it was quite hot and sticky, and Laura's initial embarrassment about her skimpy attire quickly vanished. The two cute men who lived on the other side of the apartment complex - one married and the other living with his girlfriend - were never around, and the only other guy who would even be within eyeshot of her was the weird new guy who lived upstairs. She had only seen him from a distance, and that was rare - usually with another guy either entering or leaving, and usually either in the afternoon or in the morning, and she had never met him anyway.

Besides, the laundry room was only twenty feet from her front door.

When Laura entered, she wasn't paying much attention so that she was startled to see a guy, perhaps twenty, a paperback in one hand and a beer in the other, sitting atop one of the machines. On the floor lay a huge pile of dirty laundry, and every one of the four machines appeared to be in use. He was dressed in jeans with no shirt and no shoes or socks. His long brownish hair was combed back recklessly with a day's worth of stubble on his face, and in spite of that rouge appearance his boyish shyness caused Laura to have a moment of indecision. She admired his body, just enough hair on his stomach and chest, but not too much. He wasn't muscular, but was fit, his muscles toned, and his skin slightly brown. Sensing that someone was present, he quickly looked up from behind his book and his blue-green eyes met Laura's dark brown eyes.

"Um," he stammered.

"Er," Laura recovered, "You're using all of them."

"No, I mean, here, let me give you half."

He jumped down frantically and instantly shut off two of the machines.

Laura turned to leave and said, "No, that's fine I can come back later..."

"Please, I didn't mean to hog them all, here - take these two and accept my apology," he interrupted.

His voice was pleasant and confident outside of his shy demeanor, and Laura stopped and turned to watch him taking out his wet clothing, flopping the soaked and soapy mess on top of one of the two counters next to the dryers. He almost looked as good from the back as he did from the front, his tight jeans revealing a small tight ass, his back was tight and somewhat muscular, with broad shoulders and the slightest bit of tone in his triceps. He was working furiously, and had both washing machines emptied in seconds.

"Please, I'm sorry," he insisted.

"These two are yours. I've never seen anyone in here on a Sunday night before, I just assumed..."

"I usually wash earlier in the day. Besides, how would you know who washes here? You've only lived here for a couple of months," Laura said, interrupting his excuse.

Laura instantly regretted the way that her last words came out. As he faced her, his wet stomach and chest reflected the light from the dim bulb above, and his jeans were damp and soapy from his own half-washed laundry. She noticed his cock through his jeans, was he aroused? If he wasn't, he was hung very well, much better than Bill had been - Bill's cock wasn't even as big as the bulge in this guy's pants when Bill was completely erect.

"I..." Laura started and stopped in another moment of indecision.

"Please, I feel foolish," he said with a slight grin.

"Take these two machines, and my apology."

"Um, yeah, sorry, thanks," Laura said, grinning in return yet not looking directly at him, something softening slightly in her demeanor.

She put her basket and her soap on the remaining empty counter and instinctively inspected the inside of one of the available machines.

"I'm Tom," he said, and extended his hand.

"Oh. Um, Laura," she said, shaking his hand which was still slightly wet.

She quickly let go and he dried his hands on his pants and shyly apologized again. He laughed nervously and then grinned sheepishly. She thought him to be weird, but oddly charming and certainly handsome. And sexy. Tom sat back on top of one of the machines and picked his book back up, took a swig of beer, and she loaded the two machines which were now hers.

* * *

She sat on her counter, her portable CD player spinning as she read a magazine left there by someone who evidently had no use for it. Occasionally, she looked up to watch Tom, who was intense behind his book. The book, which was one of many things about Tom that drove Laura crazy with curiosity, was entitled, 'Three Male Erogenous Zones', and subtitled, 'How to give your partner multiple orgasms'.

Was Tom gay? He certainly didn't sound that way, at least, as if he was in the least bit effeminate in any way. Although, she was almost convinced that he might indeed be homosexual even without the book to make her wonder about it. She was so scantily dressed, that under any other circumstances she would have found something - even a coat, which would look ridiculous in this heat and humidity which was amplified by Tom's first load in the dryer - to put on to cover herself with rather than feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.

Not only didn't she feel that way - uncomfortable and vulnerable - but Tom had hardly even looked at her after relinquishing the two machines. In fact, the only time that she caught him looking at her was when she started loading the second machine, but he quickly turned away as if distracted by the noise, so she thought nothing of it. Her shorts were in fact so short that the bottoms of the cheeks of her magnificent ass hung outside of the bottoms of the white trim, and even when she turned around and tried to catch him looking, he seemed uninterested. After twenty minutes or so, it became a game to her, and when he wouldn't play her game, she began to become more and more curious. She finally got up off of her counter, popped the CD out of her player, and as Tom looked up at the noise, she told him that she would be back. He promised to, "hold down the fort".

Whatever that meant.

* * *

Laura returned a couple of minutes later, with a fresh CD and a large plastic bucket, which was filled with ice. She walked up to Tom's counter as Tom smiled pleasantly and cordially at her, and she picked up Tom's remaining beers and buried them into the ice inside of the bucket.

"Oh, hey! Thanks! That was very kind of you!" he gushed, smiling.

"No, thank you for giving up your machines," responded Laura, almost bashfully, not looking Tom in the eye but instead unloading her first wash and putting it in the dryer.

"Well, thank you very much," Tom said while finally putting the book down. He readjusted his position on his counter.

Laura tried to be casual about her next question.

"Interesting book?" she asked, still not making eye contact while continuing to load more clothes into the washing machine.

"Oh, this?" he asked, and again grabbed the book, keeping his place with his thumb while holding it up for her examination.

Laura looked up and at the book cover that Tom was holding for her to see. She had memorized it already, but played along as if she was seeing it for the first time. Laura slowly read the title, as if it were the first time that she had read it.

"It's quite fascinating, actually. A few things that I had suspected, but never actually explored before," Tom explained, very matter-of-factly.

"Are you going to recommend it to your girlfriend?" Laura said, obviously prying.

Tom laughed. Openly, it was the first time that he had laughed in front of Laura, it was if he had lost all composure. His long hair bounced as he straightened up to engage her in the conversation, he sat in a sort of lotus position on the counter now and put the book back down.

"No girlfriend, I'm afraid," said Tom, grinning as he lowered his head, his hair falling down with gravity's irresistible charm. Laura turned to face him in the seconds of silence that followed.

"Ah, then your boyfriend?" teased Laura.

"Something like that," answered Tom, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation had gone.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I... um... I didn't mean to pry," Laura interjected, sensing that Tom had nervously withdrawn.

Tom slowly lifted his head, his expression serene and thoughtful as his eyes focused on some point not in the room, but in his own mind and memories, as if to wish to go back to some other point in time and space to use as a starting point. He then looked at her - or rather, almost through her - and smiled somewhat forcefully, as in resignation.

"I love women very much," he said.

"I find them completely attractive and sexy and..." he then gestured with his hand toward Laura, as she was an example.

For the first time, Laura felt threatened, sexually, or at least that perhaps Tom was the one now prying. Tom looked at her body, and she now withdrew completely, quite embarrassed and uncomfortable, her hands drawn up to her shoulders and her legs slightly crossed. Tom instantly saw this, and changed expression.

"No! No, don't worry, I'm... Um... I don't mean... Aw, shit, see what I mean?" Tom stammered.

He hung his head again, shaking it slowly and bringing his hands up to cover his face, half-laughing or perhaps half crying, Laura couldn't tell. Then, with his right hand, he moved his long hair back out of his face and drew a deep breath. He looked at her again, in the eyes.

"I'm not gay, but I do have a male lover. There, I've said it! I've known him for a few years, his name is Tony. We were just good friends, until the last relationship I was in. He was just there, and..." Tom's voice trailed off into nothing.

Tom looked up at the ceiling, or perhaps at nothing. He sighed. Laura, now quite lost in the thought of this weird, sexy, and seemingly sensitive boy who she had somehow managed to humiliate through simply being curious, could think of nothing to say. She dropped her arms, uncrossed her legs, and watched him intently, thinking of something - anything - to say to make him understand that whatever was torturing him would be okay. Laura didn't understand it completely, and her mind was being selfish at the moment and she was imagining a boy named Tony unbuttoning Tom's jeans and taking out Tom's massive cock, massaging it with knowing hands, getting Tom hard and then bending down and taking Tom in his mouth. It sent a shiver throughout her body and it turned her on, and she felt guilty about it because Tom was staring at a point in space trying to reconcile whatever history had brought him to this point.

Laura jumped off of her counter and walked over to Tom, put her hands on his knees, feeling the still wet jeans on her fingers.

"Tom, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so nosey. Please forgive me."

Tom looked down into her eyes, and they stared into oblivion for a moment. Laura was sincere, even though when she looked at his lips she couldn't help but wonder if he had ever sucked Tony's cock - whoever Tony was. Tom's eyes were soft and deep, and he was shaking slightly. He smiled. He raised his right hand and gently caressed the side of Laura's face, softly moving his thumb against her cheek. Laura's right hand, fingers spread, sensed a slight movement, a tightening of its environment, and it was - she only imagined, she wouldn't dare look - Tom's cock, reacting to the intimate moment between them. After a few more seconds, Laura was getting too turned on to remain in that spot, and withdrew, a smile on her face.

She was trembling, and didn't want Tom to know.

"I'm going to go get something to drink," she said. "You need anything?"

"No thanks," Tom said, "I think I'm okay, thanks to you."

Laura looked back as she left, and noticed that Tom was hard inside of those still wet jeans of his, and it turned her on so much that she kept her back to him, even though it was awkward to do so. She knew that she was wet with desire, and she suspected that Tom would notice it if she turned around, and she didn't know whether or not that she wanted Tom to know that or not. At least, not yet.

* * *

When Laura came back, there was another man there, leaning against Tom much in the same way that she had done while apologizing to him for prying. He was a full six inches taller than Tom, and less muscular, and with a much prettier face. He was very well dressed; black shoes - she guessed Italian made - dress slacks, a button-down shirt and a thin tie. His hair was short and thin and perfect. When they noticed Laura, they turned to greet her.

"Ah, Laura, this is Tony. Tony, Laura," Tom announced.

Tony turned, taking one hand away from Tom's thigh, and looked Laura up and down with a smugness that would have made Laura nervous, except that Laura was already nervous even before Tony had somehow unexpectedly arrived. Laura was nervous and extremely turned on.

Tony extended his slender hand.

"Charmed," he said, in a most effeminate voice.

Laura shyly extended her hand, which Tony quickly whipped up and gently kissed the back of. It made Laura shiver.

"Oh my," Tony chirped sarcastically, "but she is a cute petfish, isn't she?"

"Tony, stop it!" laughed Tom.

Laura, not sure what a petfish was, looked at Tom with a raised eyebrow.

"Um, forgive my friend Tony. He's a bit jealous of girls," Tom said.

"Oh, pu-lease! We have so much in common. How could I ever be jealous!?" teased Tony.

Laura relaxed. Tom, so masculine, yet sensitive and Tony, so flamboyant and dramatic. She learned that a petfish was a term that gay men used for women who hung out with them. It wasn't meant to be derogatory, but explicative and fun. Maybe a way of acceptance, maybe a form of bringing her into their circle of sexual preference, maybe a way to bring everybody down into one common denominator. She drank the only two wine coolers in her ice-box, while Tom finished his beers and Tony drank a diet soda that he brought with him.

They did laundry.