I. Lintroductions
Everybody hates doing laundry. In fact, the only thing worse than doing laundry is doing laundry alone on a Friday night. However, it needed to be done. So, as always, I packed up my laundry, some detergent and my book and headed down to the building's laundry room. Much to my joy, all the washers were empty, so I had plenty of room to chill and some nice peace and quiet. After getting everything into the wash, I sat down and started reading, pausing every so often to scribble in the margins.
I had only been sitting for a few minutes when suddenly, a girl's voice pulled me right out of the book.
"Hey, sorry to bother you, but is anybody else down here using the machines?", she asked in a somewhat shy voice. I looked up at her standing in the doorway and smiled from ear to ear.
She was a tallish blonde with a very cute girl-next-door vibe about her. Although the sweatshirt and jeans she was wearing were very modest, you could still tell that she had some wonderful curves underneath them. Catching myself staring, I quickly explained that I was alone down there, and that there were plenty of machines available.
"Oh, do you mind if I come down and do a load?", she replied, still seeming a bit shy.
"No," I replied, clearing my throat again. "It'd be good to have some company that's not between bookcovers."
"Great!", she replied enthusiastically, "I'll just run up and get my wash, hold the washers for me."
She started for the exit. As she turned, I got my first look at her exquisite backside, with just the right curves to drive any man mad with desire. I felt that familiar pulsing beginning under the book on my lap, as I began to imagine taking her home to my room and getting a chance to slide up against that wonderful ass.
Suddenly she turned around. "Oh, one quick question, where's the change machi..." She saw where my eyes were hungrily staring, and stopped in mid sentence. I snapped out of my fantasy and, noticing how badly I'd been busted, shot off the first word that came to mind.
"Lobby!"
She laughed quietly at my awkwardness, di"using the tension until I could correct myself.
"The... uhh.. Change machine. It's in the lobby. Next to the mailboxes."
She laughed a little more, and then looked back at me, blushing a little and very gently biting her lower lip. "Ok, well, I'll go get my stuff then."
She walked out, and I sat back in the chair, feeling myself hardening, wondering whether she thought I was a creep or something because she caught me red-handed eyeing her all over. Then I remembered the little blush, and decided that maybe I didn't scare her off after all. I tried to start reading again, but my mind kept drifting to my attractive new laundry buddy. Strangely enough, as I sat in the overly clean, soapy-smelling laundry room, all I could think about was getting dirty.
II. A Very High Heat Wash
"Hey! Did anybody take my washers?", she asked as she came back into the laundry room, carrying two full baskets of laundry stacked on top of each other.
"Nope," I replied, shutting my book. "It's Friday night, everybody's either drunk or trying to get drunk. Your washers are safe."
She sighed contentedly, seeming a bit too relieved, and then set her baskets down. She looked straight at me while she finally came into view from behind the laundry baskets, and as soon as I saw her new outfit and had to cover my lap with my book as quickly as humanly possible. She had put on a pair of short and tight shorts and a tank top, showing off her curves and her amazing ass. I had to exert every bit of willpower that I had to keep from staring. I blushed deep red, having been caught staring once more, and as I looked up at her, she giggled a bit.
"It just gets really hot in here, so I figured I'd change into something cooler." The sly, teasing look of earlier returned to her face. "You don't mind, do you?"
I tried to think of something something coherent to say, maybe even something witty, but I failed and just nodded my head. She giggled again, and then went to sorting through her laundry.
I kept trying to be subtle and avoid staring obviously, but it seemed like every time that I looked up, she was looking back at me, still gently nibbling on her lower lip.
"Do you need a hand sorting all that?" I asked, figuring that I needed something to distract me. She thought for a second, smiled and handed me a basket.
"Sure, Just divide it into colors, whites and delicates."
Nodding, I set to my task and took a look into the basket, then nearly dropped it out of surprise. She had handed me the lingerie basket, filled nearly to the brim with bras, panties, thongs and g-strings. She looked over at me.
"Is everything OK?"
"Are you sure you want me to sort this one?" I said, holding up a pair of yellow thong panties.
"Unless you mind. I've not done laundry in a while, and, well, that's what I run out of first", she replied coyly.
I smiled, shaking my head, and gingerly started piling her unmentionables in neat little stacks on top of the nearest washer. I considered my position as I sorted. Based on her lustful looks in my direction and the palpable sexual tension in the small room, there was no question of her intent. The quarters were out, the detergent poured. Now, I just needed to find the best way to start the cycle.
