Emily's Laundromat Romance

Emily looked around her small apartment one last time, making sure she hadn't missed anything. Under her current circumstances she had few clothes to wash, but that also meant she had few clothes to wear. So she usually washed everything in one large load, not just because she could fit most of her wardrobe into one load but also because her budget didn't allow for two loads a week. In fact, she had taken to wearing no bra or panties to work to save on laundry expenses. Of course, there were other benefits to that, too.

It was her ex-boyfriend's fault, the son of a bitch. She had been living with him for four months when she came home early from work one day and caught him in bed with his ex-girlfriend. It seemed that she wasn't as "ex" as he had told Emily. She threw a fit and he kicked her out of the apartment. She left for a friend's apartment, telling her boyfriend that she would be back for her clothes the next day. When she showed up the next morning, she found all her belongings burning in the dumpster. All her clothes, pictures, CDs, DVDs, everything was lost. And since she had been almost supporting them since she moved in with him, she had very little money to replace her clothes.

To make matters worse, she had unexpectedly come home early that day because the company she worked for had downsized, and her job was one of the casualties. She moved in with her girlfriend for a month until she could get another job, and then she moved out to her own apartment as quickly as she could get the first month's rent plus security deposit. She loved her friend very much, but the girl only had a single bedroom apartment, and it just wasn't large enough for two women in their early thirties. So now she was trying to rebuild her wardrobe out of the spare money left over at the end of each month. And since she had been working there for only four months, she hadn't replaced much.

"Well, it saves on laundry expenses," she told her reflection in the mirror attached to the closet door in her bedroom after looking in the dirty clothes hamper one last time. And when she made that sarcastic comment to the reflection in the mirror, she took a moment to look at that reflection.

One thing she had kept paying for when she left her boyfriend's apartment was her membership at the gym. She still worked out three times a week, and it showed. Her body was trim and shapely. Her boobs were a C-Cup, which was just fine by her standards. They didn't droop and looked great on her five foot six inch body. Her stomach was flat, even if it was without the six-pack that so many people seemed to praise. Her waist flared to full hips, and her ass was well-rounded without the excess flab that Kardashian claimed was the modern version of beautiful. Her beautiful mother had passed down a beautiful face, and Emily was thankful for that. And her dark, almost black, hair was long, stretching below her shoulder blades. It had a natural but gentle curl to it, making it seem to others that Emily had just used a curling iron. In all, Emily knew the package was great. The problem was not in the package; the problem was in who was doing the unwrapping.

"I am going to have to be more careful in choosing boyfriends. Jimmy was the third in a row who I caught cheating on me. The first two I found out through friends, but with Jimmy I actually saw him in bed with her." She was quietly mumbling, exhorting herself as she walked to the small laundry room shared by the apartment complex. It had been four months since she caught him cheating, and the scene of his ex on top, sitting up so he could maul her tits while she bounced up and down on his cock was permanently burned into her memory.

"But at least I save a shitload of money each month on beer!" One of Emily's complaints was that Jimmy was between jobs, if you call not working for five months "between jobs." In fact, she was convinced that this was the primary reason he asked her to move in with him: he had run out of money and needed her to pay his bills. She should have questioned him more before she moved in with him. It seemed like he was always asking her to bring pizza or Chinese or something with her when he asked her to come over. He always promised to pay her back, but seldom did. But she always did it, like some obedient puppy trying hard to please its master.

"BULLSHIT! I will never have a master again!" She was shouting at herself, but it was a mental chastising so no one around her could hear. She was beginning to see clearly how today's social programming really worked. Women are doubted and looked down on if they had no boyfriend, and men are congratulated when they find a girlfriend. Between the two common behaviors, too many women are pressured into settling for less just so they weren't alone on Friday nights.

But now things have changed for Emily. She would hold out until she didn't have to settle for anything less than exactly what she wanted. She would be patient. She would be discriminating. And then she would make her choice. It was possible that this decision would only give her plenty of time to build up her wardrobe, but she didn't think so. She knew plenty of women who had quality men in their lives, so she was convinced that there was one more quality man out there for her. She just had to find him.

But until then, she would be buying a lot of batteries..

I mean, girls just want to have fun, right? If there was no man around on Friday night, then the excitement she got ran on batteries. That is just the way things are.

And it wasn't too bad...

But she knew there were good options available. Hell, one of the assistant managers at the real estate office where she worked was quite handsome. The agency was making money so he must be making money, at least enough that she wouldn't have to support him on her salary. He flirted with most of the secretaries there, but none of the female agents. He seemed to be a little soft and gentle for her tastes, but that was something that she could live with.

"Shit! There I go again. The programming kicks in and I become willing to settle for less than I want just so I can have a boyfriend. Fuck that!" And she plopped her laundry basket on one of the utility tables in the laundry room. Emily heard an "Amen on that, sister!" from behind the row of dryers, and was embarrassed that she had spoken out loud. She walked over and saw a woman her age folding some clothes.

"I am sorry, I didn't know there was anyone here. My name is Emily and I live in 214. I was just griping about how American society has programmed women to believe they are somehow incomplete or inadequate if they don't have a boyfriend." The woman smiled and reached out her hand to shake.

"I totally agree with you. I was just reading this month's Cosmo and said the same thing to a friend of mine. There is an article in it on how women today are strong and independent and empowered. Then I saw an article on how to keep your man by sexually pleasing him. It seemed to be an instruction manual on yoga. So, we are empowered individuals who must contort and twist our bodies to make our men sexually happy in the hopes of keeping him around. What a crock!" The two women looked at each other with smiles that showed they shared insight into the secrets of the universe.

"My name is Sharon and I live in 943. And I am telling women everywhere, at least the ones who will listen to me, that if he cannot make the commitment to stay around, then he is not worth keeping around!" And she nodded to place emphasis on her great wisdom. Emily found herself quickly liking the woman. She paused for just a moment, and then voiced a complaint.

"But sometimes it seems like all the good ones are taken." She almost looked sad for a moment, and then she brightened up. "But there is a guy here that seems worth checking out." Emily started to say more but was interrupted by an outburst from Sharon.

"Brad. He lives in 611. He is single, works out, and eats healthy. I have bumped into him at the grocery store twice, and both times he had fresh fruits and vegetables in his cart." She paused to giggle like a school girl. "I am not vegan or anything, but you just can't have a healthy diet without fresh fruits and vegetables." Emily grinned her agreement, intrigued by the man.

"So, who is Brad?" Sharon giggled again, sounding much younger than her age.

"You have seen him around, I am sure. He goes to all the monthly mixers, but he usually stays less than an hour. Then he just disappears. While he is there, he seems friendly enough, but still reserved. If he is engaged in a conversation with a woman, it is always because she has started the conversation. He seldom approaches a woman and strikes up a conversation. Sandy brown hair, gray eyes, wide shoulders, muscular but not too muscular. Late twenties, maybe thirty. Always causal but well-dressed. No one seems to know his story, but all the single women here are talking about him. We all compare notes on him to see if anyone has learned anything new about him." She paused for a moment, and then added another detail in a conspiratorial manner. "He always brings a bottle of Talisker, a really good Scotch. He has a couple of drinks and then leaves the bottle for everyone else to enjoy. And that means he is generous." Suddenly, Emily perked up.

"Wait! I know who you are talking about. He drives a late model Mazda Miata, green, I think, and he lives in the big building. Yes, I definitely know who you are talking about." Emily gave a sly grin to Sharon, and they both nodded. "I was one of those women who tried to chat with him at the last mixer. He was friendly enough but was clearly not involved in the conversation. Left me feeling like he had someplace to go and was just about to leave. Too bad because he is so fine. He is definitely worth getting to know." Sharon clearly agreed with her. "And he seems intelligent. At least, he was informed about politics and movies and business conditions across the State." Sharon added something else to their discussion of the most eligible bachelor in the apartment complex.

"He was at the pool last Saturday. You should see him in his bathing suit. Adonis. Definitely Adonis." The two women laughed. Emily pondered a question.

"I wonder what he does for a living." Sharon quickly responded.

"I think he is in investments. Maybe stocks or investment banking or something. One of my friends made a comment about the stock market and he responded with enough information to make her believe he worked in that area. In fact, that seems to be the only real conversation any of the women here have had with him." Emily nodded her agreement again, thinking that she wished she had seen him at the pool last weekend. She had fantasized about him several times and she wondered how closely her fictional man matched the real man. Sharon interrupted her thoughts.

"I know he washes his clothes here because two of my girlfriends have seen him here." She gave Emily a knowing look. "Who knows? Maybe he will be here today? Too bad, because I have finished with my weekly visit." She groaned as she piled her folded clothes in her laundry basket, looking both excited and disappointed at the same time. Emily groaned, too.

"I wish. But I brought a book to read just in case he doesn't show up." Both women laughed out loud at her comment.

After Sharon left, Emily began the process of loading her clothes into one of the washing machines. She heard the door open behind her and thought that Sharon had returned.

"Forgot something?" she asked without turning around.

"No, I don't think so," replied a distinctly masculine voice. Emily spun around, surprised it wasn't Sharon. And Adonis stood a few feet away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else." She was embarrassed at her mistake, and so surprised at seeing the man she was just discussing that she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Sharon? Yes, I passed her coming in." Brad looked at her with a cool appraisal in his eyes, and then walked over to the washing machines. "What were the two of you talking about? She had a shocked look on her face as she left." Suddenly, Emily found she couldn't think of anything to say. Come on, woman! This is your chance. Think! But her silent rebuke seemed to fall on a dysfunctional brain. After several seconds, she spoke.

"So, you know Sharon?" Come on, woman, you can do better than that!

"Not really. Just met her at a couple of the monthly mixers here. And I met you at the last one. You are fairly new. Moved in a couple of months ago, right?"

Suddenly, Emily was excited. He remembered her! She felt herself get a little wet at the idea. "You are Emily, right?" Now she was definitely getting wet!

"Yes, and I am surprised you remembered." She paused, definitely flustered.

"Well, we had a short but relatively intelligent conversation, one of the few I have had here in months. I remember that well. I seem to remember that you are in real estate." He paused to look at her more closely. She was suddenly very self-conscious about wearing sloppy sweats to wash her laundry. Ohmygod, why didn't I put on something nicer today?

"Actually, I work at one of the largest real estate agencies in the city, but I am not a licensed agent. I am just an insignificant worker bee running around meeting the needs of the all-important realtors." Shit! Why did I have to put myself down!

"Somehow, I don't believe that will be the case for long." He paused again and smiled, looking at her more closely. She returned his smile in appreciation.

"Thanks. I was the office manager at one of their competitors until it down-sized and eliminated my position. That was all I could find on short notice. But I am studying for my license." She gave him her best smile.

"Is that what you want to be, a real estate agent?" He kept looking at her in that piercing way, and she kept getting wetter. She dropped the lid on the machine she had almost filled, and turned back to him.

"Truthfully, the more I get into real estate, the more I see the need for financial planning. For the past ten years or so, the vast majority of families who purchased homes from us and then lost their homes had no real budget and no real plan for the future. I spent a lot of time trying to help these families develop some sort of planned budget in hopes they could avoid losing their homes. I really liked that part of my job." She looked off into the distance for a moment, a look of satisfaction in her heart and probably on her face.

"A real estate agency that actually tried to do financial counseling? That is rare, isn't it?" He looked at her in surprise.

"Well, no, not really. I mean, yes, but it was not the agency's efforts. That is just something that sort of developed as I tried to work with families to help them avoid losing their homes. It wasn't really a part of my job. In fact, that was one of the reasons why the company eliminated my position. I was doing more financial counseling than managing the office." As she thought about this, her face developed a dark frown. "But I was able to document the fact that foreclosures among our clients were half the industry average at the time." She actually felt proud about that.

"So, you tried to actually help people and it cost you your job." She couldn't read his expression, but she thought she saw compassion there, at least for a moment.

"Yes, I guess you could say that." She didn't know what to add, so she just fell silent. He looked at her for a moment, and then walked over to a washing machine and started filling it with clothes from his laundry basket. Think, Emily! You can't let this opportunity pass you by. She was aware of something that they seemed to share, even though she wasn't totally aware of what it was. She was also aware of the wetness she felt in her pussy. But she was lost as she tied to think of how to continue the short-lived conversation. Hell, it isn't a conversation with him that I want. I want a relationship with him!

Suddenly, she had an idea. Well, it was really a stupid and brash fantasy. Yet she was convinced that if she didn't say or do something quick, an important opportunity would pass her by. I am a strong and empowered woman, right? That means I am free to do what I want to pursue the right relationship, right? Shit, she was beginning to think that her crazy idea might work. Scared as she was about her idea, she considered how she would do it. She asked herself if she was really interested in this man, and decided that she was. She remembered how she had felt during her initial conversation with him last month. There was that same something then, too. There was an attraction she felt for him unlike anything she had ever experienced on first meeting a man, and it left her feeling empty when he left abruptly. She knew then it was not her social programming pushing her to get into a relationship. She knew then that this was something special, even if she surmised that he didn't feel the same or else he would have stayed around. And she suddenly knew that she had to do something special, something out of the ordinary, or this meeting would be just as unfruitful and just as frustrating as the last meeting.

But could she actually do it?

Well, if I can't get him in my pants, then I will make it easy for him and take my pants off!

This would risk everything. He would either ignore her every time they met from this point forward, or it would fix her in his mind as someone different, maybe even someone special. She thought for another second, remembering the TV commercial.

JUST DO IT!

And then she pulled her sweatshirt over her head and put it in the washing machine. Her sweat pants soon followed. She stood naked in the laundry room, scared to death that he would see her and yet wanting so badly that he would.

She tried to act as if this was something she did all the time, and that it was something that others did, too. But she found that she was sweating. She risked a glance in his direction but he was putting money in the machine and didn't see her. So she sat down in one of the chairs and opened the book she brought with her.

"You must be very talented. Not many people can read a book upside down." She almost jumped out of her seat at his voice. She looked up and Brad was sitting in a chair about eight feet from her with a grin on his face.

"Let me guess. You are out of clean clothes so you had to wash everything at the same time." His grin got wider.

"Something like that." She tried to return his grin but wasn't sure if she had succeeded very effectively. "It's a long story." And she turned her book around so she could act as if she was reading.

"Well, I have about an hour," saying the obvious, "and I think I would really enjoy hearing that long story." She looked into his eyes and saw interest, but no judgment or derision. He was clearly startled, but he was also clearly interested.

So she found herself telling him the story of her broken relationship and his effort to burn everything she had. She thought she heard a muttered "bastard" when he heard that part, but she ignored it and continued. They sat there in the laundry room, she totally naked and he totally interested in her story, until the washing machines told them with a buzz that they were finished. During the story, another woman had come in to wash her clothes, but when she saw Emily she quickly backed out of the laundry room without a word. Brad chuckled at that, but didn't interrupt her story. The washing cycle being completed, the two of them casually got up and and moved their clothes to dryers, and then sat back down. This time, Brad moved to the chair next to hers.

Emily was suddenly concerned about her body. She knew she was slim and attractive, but there was something else. She was not shaved down there. She wasn't even trimmed. Her pubic hair was full and even luxurious. She looked down without thinking, and rolled her eyes. Her boyfriend demanded that she shave herself totally bald, and one of the reasons she stopped shaving was because of his demands. Now, she was concerned about Brad's preferences in pubic hair.