Every week or so I load up the laundry basket and head for the corner Wash-o-Matic. It's your typical Laundromat. A double row of washing machines lined up down the middle of the store with front-loading dryers along both walls. Neon lights hum and flicker overhead. A sign in the window announces "Wash, Dry and Fold" to passerby's.
I lugged my basket into the store and sorted my clothes into three of the machines. I'm careful to put the whites in one machine, darks in another, and towels in a third as I once turned my dress shirts into an attractive guacamole color by mixing in a pair of green socks.
I looked around the place as I worked. It was almost empty. An elderly lady was folding her laundry while another gal, who was much younger, transferred her clothes from the dryers onto the folding table. I recognized the younger woman as Cindy. She lives in my apartment building, and was one of the first tenants to introduce herself when I moved in.
After loading my machines and inserting the required fist of quarters, I sat in a chair and watched Cindy take her clothes out of the dryer. She was dressed in jogging style shorts and a short T-shirt that left her bare midriff exposed. As she bent over to unload the dryer, her shorts rode up her ass exposing more of her firm cheeks. She had a fantastic body, a fact that didn't escape me when I first met her. Her breasts were big and firm, and just a bit too heavy for her slender frame. They swayed gently back and forth as she bent over again to retrieve more clothes from the big dryer. Just watching her sexy body at work made the cobra stir in its basket.
She turned and looked in my direction as people do when they sense that someone is staring at the back of their head. I was staring, but not at the back of her head. She smiled and said hello. I got up and walked over to the folding table. "Hi, I didn't know if you would remember me, " I said.
"Sure, I remember you. You live in my building. Roger, isn't it?" she said with a smile. I nodded in response trying to focus on her eyes and not the firm nipples pointing through her T-shirt. "You'll have to excuse the way I look," she said as she ran her hand through her hair. "I needed to do a few loads of laundry tonight, so I just threw on something and ran down here. Didn't think I'd meet anyone I knew."
"Yeah, me too. I'm down to my last pair of underwear, " I said with a laugh. "That's my signal that it's time to do the laundry. Otherwise, I'd be changing my shorts by turning them inside out."
Cindy laughed. "Well, I'm a bit obsessive about clean clothes," she said as she picked up a pair of lacy bikini panties. She folded them neatly and set them on the table and reached for a matching bra.
An image quickly formed in my mind of Cindy in her red panties and bra. "You've got nice, ah, underwear, " I said impulsively as she picked up another pair of bikini panties from the pile.
"Thank you," she said without hesitation. I love wearing sexy underwear. Especially, if I'm in business attire. But I don't wear any underwear when I do the laundry. That way I get an extra pair of undies for the week. Which do you like better? The red or the black ones?"
