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<v Speaker 1>It's Monday, September eighth, and time for your daily fuck.

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<v Speaker 1>The laundromat smells a bleaching ozone, a sterile scent that

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<v Speaker 1>feels at odds with the grime in the corners. It's

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<v Speaker 1>almost two in the morning. The only sounds are the

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<v Speaker 1>low hum of the fluorescent mites and the heavy rhythmic thump, thump,

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<v Speaker 1>dump of my sheets tumbling in an industrial sized tryer.

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<v Speaker 1>I'm the only one here. Almost across the room, under

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<v Speaker 1>the flickering lights, a man sits slouched in one of

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<v Speaker 1>the hard plastic chairs. He's rugged, with a thick beard

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<v Speaker 1>and arms covered in that tapestry with intricate faded tattoos.

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<v Speaker 1>He hasn't moved in an hour, just turns the page

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<v Speaker 1>of a warm paperback book every few minutes. But I

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<v Speaker 1>feel his eyes on me every time I get up.

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<v Speaker 1>I feel his gaze on my body when I look over.

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<v Speaker 1>He's always back to his book, but the air's thick

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<v Speaker 1>with the attention he's pretending not to pay. The dryer

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<v Speaker 1>buzz is a harsh sound that signals the end of

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<v Speaker 1>the cycle. The thumping stops, and the silence that falls

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<v Speaker 1>feels heavy with opportunity. This is it. I could fold

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<v Speaker 1>my laundry and leave, or I look down at my

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<v Speaker 1>own thin floral sundress. It's probably clean enough, but an

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<v Speaker 1>idea sharp and wicked, sparks in my mind. For the

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<v Speaker 1>last hour, every move I've made has been for him.

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<v Speaker 1>I decide this next one will be two. I stand

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<v Speaker 1>up and make a show of stretching my arms, reaching

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<v Speaker 1>for the ceiling, my back arched. I feel his gaze

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<v Speaker 1>like a physical touch. Then I'd hook my thumbs into

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<v Speaker 1>the straps of my sundress and in one smooth motion,

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<v Speaker 1>pull it over my head. I stand there for a

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<v Speaker 1>moment in the harsh light, wearing nothing but a simple

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<v Speaker 1>black brath and matching panties. I don't look at him,

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<v Speaker 1>but I can feel the weight of his stare, the

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<v Speaker 1>sudden stillness from his corner of the room. I walk

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<v Speaker 1>to an empty washing machine. The cool andoleum flora shocked

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<v Speaker 1>my bare feet. I tossed my dress inside, had splash

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<v Speaker 1>a detergent, and then turn to the controls. I glance

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<v Speaker 1>over my shoulder. He puts his book down. His full

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<v Speaker 1>attention is on me now, his expression unreadable but intense.

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<v Speaker 1>I stop a few feet away, leaning against the machine

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<v Speaker 1>next to his chair. Excuse me, I can never figure

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<v Speaker 1>these things out. Which do you think is better A

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<v Speaker 1>gentle tumble or something a little bit more agitated. His

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<v Speaker 1>eyes travel from my face, down my body, and back

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<v Speaker 1>up again. A slow, knowing smirk is his only answer.

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<v Speaker 1>Because I take a step closer. I have a feeling

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<v Speaker 1>I might be the dirtiest thing in this laundromat tonight,

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<v Speaker 1>and I don't think a regular wash is going to

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<v Speaker 1>give me clean That's what a take. He stands up, slowly,

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<v Speaker 1>unfolding to his full height. He's taller than I thought.

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<v Speaker 1>He doesn't say a word, just closes the distance between us.

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<v Speaker 1>He stops right in front of me, his heat and

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<v Speaker 1>his scent, soap and something musky, entirely male enveloping me.

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<v Speaker 1>He reaches out, not to grab me, but to gently

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<v Speaker 1>trace the outline of the swallow tattoo on my shoulder

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<v Speaker 1>with a calloused finger. The touch is electric. Then his

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<v Speaker 1>hand slides to the back of my neck and he

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<v Speaker 1>pulls me into a kiss. It's rough, hungry, tasting of coffee,

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<v Speaker 1>and pure dominance. It's everything I hoped it would be.

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<v Speaker 1>He breaks the kiss and spins me around, pushing my

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<v Speaker 1>hands flat against the top of a washing machine that

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<v Speaker 1>has just entered its spin cycle. The deep, powerful vibration

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<v Speaker 1>buzzes through the metal and straight into my palms. Bend over.

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<v Speaker 1>It's the first words he's spoken. I don't hesitate. I

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<v Speaker 1>bend forward, resting my forms on the vibrating machine. The

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<v Speaker 1>position pushes my ass up into the air. He yanks

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<v Speaker 1>my pennies down my legs and they fall to the

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<v Speaker 1>grimy floor. I feel a cool air on my exposed,

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<v Speaker 1>wet skin, and then I feel him. He's huge, the

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<v Speaker 1>head of his cart pressing against me, parting my slick folds.

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<v Speaker 1>He doesn't wait, he just shoves himself inside me. A

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<v Speaker 1>sharp gasp escapes my lips. He feels me completely, a

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<v Speaker 1>single dominant thrust that steals my breath. The vibration from

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<v Speaker 1>the washing machine radiates through my body, meeting in my

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<v Speaker 1>pelvis whereas cock is pounding into me. It's an electrifying

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<v Speaker 1>symphony of sensation. He grips my hips, his fingers digging

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<v Speaker 1>into my skin, using him as handles to slam himself

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<v Speaker 1>into me, over and over. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump

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<v Speaker 1>of his body against mine joins the chorus of the laundromat.

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<v Speaker 1>My own hand snakes down between my legs, my finger's

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<v Speaker 1>easily finding my clit, and a slick mess he's made

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<v Speaker 1>of me. The vibrations from the machine, the friction of

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<v Speaker 1>his deep thrusts in, the frantic circling of my own

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<v Speaker 1>fingers are creating a perfect storm inside me. I'm close,

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<v Speaker 1>so close, the raw, gritty reality of always the most

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<v Speaker 1>powerful aphrodisiac I've ever known. I press my face against

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<v Speaker 1>my arm, the muffled at scream building in my throat.

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<v Speaker 1>My orgasm hits me like a freight train, a violent

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<v Speaker 1>shuddering wave that makes the vibrations from the machine feel

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<v Speaker 1>like a gentle tremor. My whole body clenches around him

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<v Speaker 1>as I come, my inner muscle spasming uncontrollably. My comax

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<v Speaker 1>pushes him over his own edge with a final roar,

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<v Speaker 1>This lost in the noise of the dryers. He empties

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<v Speaker 1>himself deep inside me, his hot colm a shocking, welcome flood.

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<v Speaker 1>He pulls out his breathing, harsh I lean against the machine.

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<v Speaker 1>My legs tremble him too much to stand. He doesn't

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<v Speaker 1>say a word. He just zips up his fly gives

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<v Speaker 1>me a single dark look, grabs a bass at a

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<v Speaker 1>folded baundry, and walks out of the laundromat, the bell

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<v Speaker 1>over the door chiming his exit. I'm left alone in

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<v Speaker 1>the buzzing silence, leaning against a now still machine, a

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<v Speaker 1>complete and glorious mess. My laundry is clean, but I've

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<v Speaker 1>never felt so absolutely, wonderfully dirty in my life