Last Friday after work, I cursed myself for not washing clothes the night before. I wanted to change into a T-shirt, but the only one I had left was black, and it was a hot day. The shirt was long enough that I didn't bother to put pants on underneath. I gathered my dirty clothes and detergent and headed to my apartment building's laundry room.
There's a table next to the door, and I used it to separate my lights from my colors. While I was doing that, Josh came in with a duffel bag full of clothes. Josh is probably just under six feet tall, with sandy hair. He occasionally works as the lifeguard at our pool, and I'd wanted to see what his chest looked like under the muscle shirt since last summer. "Hey, Cindy," he said nonchalantly. He set the bag on the table and started sorting his clothes. He wasn't wearing that lifeguard shirt; he was wearing an orange sweatshirt with a picture of Jimi Hendrix. After a bunch of white socks and underwear, the next thing he took out was a graphic tee with the cover of
Dark Side of the Moon
. He put it on top of a pair of blue jeans and started to put a black Metallica shirt on top of them.
I stopped him. "The Pink Floyd shirt needs a color-safe detergent or it'll fade," I advised.
"I don't have any," he said. "I never thought to look for it."
I moved the Metallica shirt off and picked up the Pink Floyd shirt. "I'll add it to my load," I said.
Josh looked at the shirt he had on and pulled on the sleeve. "What about this?"
No way was I going to pass up a chance to see him shirtless. "Better add it too, to be safe," I said.
Josh pulled his shirt off and handed it to me. He was almost as ripped as I'd imagined. He told me, "I like the one you're wearing."
I looked down. It said, "My letter got published in ..." I won't name the magazine, but it's one known for publishing accounts like this one. I was too entranced by his muscles to be embarrassed by the shirt. "Thanks," I said.
"So what was your letter about?"
It got awkward, but only for a moment. "This one time in college, I fooled around with three guys in my room at once. What's funny is that at the end, I was still a virgin."
Josh started to smile. I guess my willingness to mention it emboldened him. "What'd you do?"
"I still don't remember how they all ended up there, but the first guy was just feeling me up. We were rubbing each other's crotches, and that led to us taking our pants off." I stopped for a moment and looked outside the door to make sure no one else could hear me. "We kept rubbing each other through our underwear, and he unhooked my bra. He backed me up against a wall and started rubbing my tits. I reached inside his underwear and started stroking him." I could see a bulge forming in Josh's pants, and I could feel myself getting moist. "He slipped a finger in my panties and started fingering me." In my imagination, Josh was doing everything to me that I described.
"Do you have a copy of the issue where they published it?" Josh asked.
"I lost it when I was moving," I explained.
"So what happened next?"
"Okay, so the first guy's name was Mark. His friend Jim happened to walk past the door and saw us moving to the bed. Mark moved between my legs and rubbed my crotch through my underwear. Jim dropped his pants, and I started stroking him. I forget what else happened, but when it was over, I'd given all three guys a hand job, sucked two of 'em, and they'd all eaten me out."
Now Josh was rubbing himself freely. "You said you were still a virgin at the end."
I was getting turned on myself. "Yeah."
"Were?"
"I got a boyfriend not long after that." I put my hands on his forearms. "He was a wrestler, built like you."
"So did he pin you down?" Josh joked.
I moved my hands to his waist. "He didn't have to," I answered.
I took my hands off his waist, and he put his on mine. He asked, "Shouldn't we get back to laundry?"
"Yeah," I said disappointedly.
"Well, I've got a load of black clothes. Wanna add to it?" He moved down to grasp the hem of my shirt.
"No sense taking up all the washers at once," I said. Josh pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it on top of my pile of dark clothes. I wished I hadn't worn a bra, but at least it was my cute pink one, new enough that it was still bright. We sorted all our clothes into three piles, occasionally stopping to grab each other's butts, and put them into washers.
Josh put his hand on my bra strap and asked, "Where should we put this?"
"Where would you like it?" I asked.
Josh put an end to the subtle flirting. "On the floor in my bedroom."
"Works for me," I said. He lives on the second floor, so we took the stairs. I know I've got a nice ass, so I wasn't surprised that Josh waited for me to go up before he did. I was surprised, though, when he put his arms around my waist and moved me against the wall. He couldn't wait. He put his right hand in my panties and found my pussy. He wasn't in a hurry to get his fingers inside; he seemed content to feel my outer flesh while he rubbed my tits through my bra with the other hand. "That and more," I promised, "but not here." He let me go, and I followed him to his place.
We both took off our shoes and socks. I got on his bed and crossed my legs, and Josh joined me. "Ever since I saw you in a bikini at the pool, I've wanted to see what was underneath," he said.
"You haven't seen a Korean woman naked before?" I asked.
"It's not about that," Josh insisted. "I mean, yeah, you've got that cute kind of Asian face that turns me on, but I was talking about your curves."
