Doing Laundry

"You'll have to taste for yourself." She held up her two large breasts, offering them to me as if they were two soft, pink-strawberry ice cream cones, straightening her posture to point her breasts right at my face. I reached out with both hands to cup her left breast and kissed her through the fabric of her bra, once, twice, and then I sucked her nipple, the lace growing wet under my mouth.

She put one hand on the back of my head, pulling me against her breast, and then I felt her fingernails on the head of my cock, which by now was sticking out from under my shorts. She put her lips down to my ear as she dragged her nails along my shaft and whispered "Did you forget your underwear this morning?"

She was right -- I was bare under my shorts. "I sure did." I gently squeezed her breasts together so I could lick her, suck her, and move my mouth from one breast to the other, making her nipples grow harder and tighter with each lick, each kiss, until they were nearly poking through the lace. "And you are sweeter than cotton candy."

She was straining, I could hear it in her voice. "How do you know if you don't eat me?"

I didn't need another cue. "Hop up." I put my hands under her ass, and she jumped up on the washing machine. "Your pretty panties are in the way." I licked her through her translucent panties, the pink fabric blending with her pink folds, and she moaned. She was soaking wet, her panties now see-through.

"Move them" was all she said. She took a hand from the back of my head, reached down, and pulled her panties aside before pushing my face back between her legs. I put her thighs up on my shoulders and leaned into her. The washer was vibrating underneath her bottom, and I could feel the shaking right through her body as I put my mouth on her soft lips, swollen and wet. I felt her hands on my head again, pulling me into her in a rhythm, like she was orchestrating her pleasure, and I followed her lead, lapping at her in time, licking her softly at first, along her glistening slit, then sliding a tongue into her, between her folds, up and down, teasing her clit at the top of each long lick, until she grabbed my head at the top of one long lick and mashed my face down. "Right there, right there, right there!"

I flicked my tongue back and forth until she started to moan, her voice vibrating from the washer, "Oh god," and started slapping her fleshy thighs against my head like my ears were cymbals, over and over, as her orgasm tightened her stomach and made her chest flush red. I reached up to squeeze her nipple gently through her bra, and she roughly put her hand on mine until she made me pinch her hard to heighten her pleasure.

She was still shaking on the washer, her breasts jiggling from the vibrations, and as she looked at me she spread her legs. "Fuck me" she said, her voice quavering in time with the washer. I stood up, pulled her to the edge of the washer, and rubbed the head of my cock up and down her shining, slick vagina. She directed me again, almost like she was pleading, "I want you in me, fill me up." She put her hands on my hips and pulled me towards her, but I resisted; she pulled harder, and then whimpered -- "please."

I put my hands over hers, our eyes locked together. "Turn around" I said. I ran my fingers over her ass and back as she turned and then pressed against her from behind, her full, soft ass pressing my swollen cock back. I grabbed a bath towel from the laundry pile and tossed it over the washer. "Bend over."

She leaned over the washer and I pushed her down further, until she was laying on it. The machine's vibrations surged through her, massaging her tight hard nipples, rubbing against her furry mound, and she started to cum again. I put the head of my thick, 8" cock against her opening and pushed into her. I could feel her tightness, warm and wet, squeezing me -- each of her orgasms, one after another, as if they were trying to milk the cum from my balls. When I sunk all the way into her she grunted and my balls slapped up against the vibrating Maytag, giving me a taste of what she was feeling.

Even with all the noise -- her gasping, the washer -- I heard someone rattling the door handle -- another early riser trying to do their laundry. At that moment I couldn't have cared less if they walked in, watched, or called the building management. In the back of my head I knew that they'd probably go to the front desk and get a key -- but I wasn't going to last much longer.

Just then the washer kicked into the final rinse spin cycle. It was like the machine was sprinting to the finish, rattling and chugging like it was slightly off balance and running the last mile of a marathon. She grabbed the sides of the machine to hold on, maybe afraid that it would throw her off, but she was impaled on my swollen cock and I wasn't going to let her get away. I fucked her like I was on fire. Hands on her hips I pounded into her, every inch of my cock sinking into her warm wetness, my balls swinging, until I couldn't stand it anymore. "I'm going to cum" I warned her.

"Cum in me! Slap my ass!" She was trying to push back, but it was hard, her feet off the floor. I smacked her ass like I was riding her to the finish line, the sound of the slap muffled by her panties, and she just cried out "Slap that ass, harder!" That was all it took. My balls were being massaged by the vibrating washer each time I hit bottom, her pussy kept squeezing my cock, and I erupted, pouring it into her over and over, one blast after another, until I could feel my jizz running out of her, onto her thighs, onto the washer, and onto her pretty pink panties that were now a wadded, soaking, fragrant mess.

I laid my head on her back and kissed her tenderly as we tried to catch our breath, and at that very moment the washer gave one final shudder -- triggering her last orgasm, as if she were trying to wring the last drops of my semen from my balls.

"Wow" I whispered softly. "I suppose if you have more quarters for the washer we can go for another ride."

She laughed, her voice muffled by her hair and the sheet. "No, I'm out of quarters, but if you take me to buy some nice lingerie we can get a whole roll of quarters on the way back."

And so I did. I took her for a lovely lunch. We went to the mall, where we picked out a lovely cream-colored satin bustier with black lace trim, one that holds her breasts up the same way she did when she first offered them to me. On the way back we stopped to get a couple of cups of coffee, and then we made one final stop at the bank, where I waited outside with our coffees while she ran in to get a couple of rolls of quarters so we could do more laundry.