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As he did his
laundry, he watched the woman on the other side.
She was fussing with the coin slots to get her washer
running and he liked the view; young and slim, with a
short skirt and long brown hair. As she fixed the
tray and turned to begin loading her clothes, she caught
him staring at her and held his gaze for just a moment
and her turned away, his face reddening. He
concentrated on his magazine and tried not to look up
again. To her he was probably now just another
dirty older man and he was angry he had been caught
staring.
After she started the washer, she picked up her
pocketbook and walked out, probably next door to the
mini mart or the pizza shop across the parking lot.
He relaxed and continued reading. After a few
minutes he heard a banging noise and looked up to see
her washer rocking and beginning to seep soap suds.
He decided to ignore it an mind his own business.
When it didn’t stop and began to rock more and spill
suds onto the floor near her basket, he decided to stop
the machine and save her clothes from getting wet.
As he opened the lip and the machine stopped, he looked
down and noticed a pile of lacy panties on top of her
dirty clothes basket. His heart quickened and he
looked up; no one in the Laundromat and no sign of her.
He began to move away but the feeling was too strong,
the desire powerful. He had to look more closely.
He looked around the room again and strained to see into
the parking lot; no sign of her. He bent down and
looked at her panties. So small and delicate, very
sexy, with lots of lace and some satin thongs too.
His breathing became more rapid and his cock began to
swell. So close, it wouldn’t hurt just to look.
He reached out and gently nudged the top thong,
basically a strap with a tiny bit of fabric to cover her
there. He pushed it over and saw the crotch.
Lightly stained, hard to see, just the hint of a stain
at the part that would have covered her ass, the rest to
white to see anything. His hand trembled and he
reached out and picked it up. Brought it close.
Closer. Now against his nose. Breathing in.
Strong!! The powerful smell of pussy, some pee.
He resisted the urge to fondle it, to rub it against his
face, his lips. He was losing that battle when he
heard the door open and her voice shout “What the fuck?”
He dropped the thong and stood, red-faced, terrified she
would scream or call the cops. She spoke again.
“What the hell are you doing with my dirty clothes,
you…”
And then she stopped and he followed her gaze, saw what
she was looking at, tried to cover it, moved his hands
awkwardly, but it was no use, his cock was still excited
and refused to shrink, showed plainly as a lump behind
his zipper. He almost died right there, began to
speak, “I am sorry, the washer was spilling, I turned it
off, I was just looking, I am sorry, I will leave now…”
Her face softened. She looked back up into his
face. “Wait. Relax. Stop talking for
a minute. You made me nervous, that’s all.
Relax, I am not going to do anything. So you
stopped the machine? Thanks. It would have
gotten my “thing” wet. You like my “things”?
I am afraid those are pretty dirty, wore them to a
camping trip this weekend. Probably pretty gross,
right?”
He didn’t dare speak. Just shook his head “no”.
“You mean you like them that way? Are you sure you
would rather have them more “fresh”?”
He just
looked at her, puzzled.
She looked around and made sure no one was around, no
one coming into the Laundromat. I can give you
something a little more mild, more “me”, if you like.
Go ahead, pick one out and show me what you like to do.”
He looked at her questioningly and she nodded and pushed
the basket closer to him.
“Go ahead. I won’t do anything. Honest.”
He leaned down and picked out a black cotton bikini
panty and slowly brought it to his face. He
breathed in and her powerful scent came back to him and
his cock began to rise again. He closed his eyes
for a moment and ran it over his face, smelling
each spot, imagining it covering her as she ran and
hiked, as she slept at night. After a moment the
smell became milder as he grew accustomed to it.
He was learning her scent and would soon never forget
it.
When he opened his eyes he started; she was watching him
and had one hand under her skirt, massaging her pussy
through her grey thong. She looked directly into his
eyes while she rubbed and rolled her pussy, forcing the
material between the folds of her lips. He watched
her and brought the thong to his lips and she nodded.
He opened his mouth and let his tongue touch the crotch
material; it was covered with whitish stains, dried and
hard now. He started at the top of the crotch and
tasted her dried droplets of pee, so salty and the smell
of her urine filled his moth and nostrils. She
smiled. He opened the crotch wide and then placed
the entire panel flat onto his tongue and waited.
As his saliva was absorbed into the fabric, the tastes
came alive in his mouth. First more of the urine,
but not a lot. Then the incredible taste of her
pussy, so powerful and almost metallic. He grew
weak and almost buckled at the knees. Here in his
mouth was the accumulation of all her girl-tastes for at
least a day, all compacted into a one inch by three inch
piece of cloth, and he sucked it to extract it all.
His saliva became a cocktail of her pussy juices and he
began to squeeze the thing between his teeth, forcing
the flavors out, sucking them up, now swallowing them to
feel their sharp taste on the back of his throat.
How badly he wished he could lick her pussy, to have
that taste he missed so much. How wonderful she
must taste, to feel her thighs against his face, to feel
the, clench him as he licked and sucked her. He
was overwhelmed with the taste en emotion of it all.
She made a noise and he looked up, say her hand moving
rapidly over her pussy, still outside her thong.
She kept the pace up for another minute or two and then
stopped, her hand holding tightly to her pussy, her eyes
closing, her legs tightly clenched. A soft moan
escaped her lips. She seemed to shudder and rubbed
herself again and held it again. Finally, after
about five minutes, she relaxed and let her hand fall to
her sides, her body visibly looser, her eyes open and
looking around the room. He was speechless.
Such a powerful, beautiful sight.
“Maybe you want this one too, to keep and remember me
by? Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean we are going
steady; my boyfriend wouldn’t approve.” As she laughed.
“Here Take it and keep it.” She walked over
to him and slid the thong off, first one leg and then
the other, being careful to keep herself covered, her
skirt just long enough, no flash of pussy here.
She reached out and began to hand it to her and he
reached up, at the last minute took hold of her hand,
saw the faintest look of worry in her eyes, but simply
brought her hand close and placed her fingers against
his nose and gently, slowly, inhaled the scent on her
fingertips. Her eyes relaxed and she allowed it,
let him smell her, seemed to understand the need, the
desire. Then he took the offered panty and backed
off, moved towards his own clothes.
“Wait a minute, hand me the other one, I can’t be giving
away all of my panties.” He stuffed both of the
panties, old and new, into his pocket and took out a $50
bill, laid it in the basket where the black thing had
lain. Her eyes got big, she smiled, said “Wow!
I didn’t know they were worth that much. I can buy
a dozen or so with this alone. Thanks. But
don’t get any ideas. And if you would, please
gather your stuff and go home and I won’t mention a bit
of this to anyone, not even my boyfriend.”
As he collected his things he wondered if he might ever
do this again, might ever see her and maybe buy another
from her. The thought just made it more difficult
to walk, so he began to think of his drive home and
thanked God for his timing this laundry night.
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