Blame It on the Rain

Blaine looked outside the window and heaved a sigh. Rain. Pouring rain.

Fuck!

That meant no trip to the skate park today and he needed to practice for the upcoming competition. He flung the curtain closed again and padded around his apartment, restless and needing something to do. His bearings were all cleaned, wheels peeled and polished and boards shaved and re-gripped so there was nothing to do in that respect. The dishes were all washed and drying in the rack, his gut heavy with two chili dogs, laden with minced onion and three Tequizas.

Nothing was on the television, either, just some old Tony Alvarez video and re-runs of

I Love Lucy

and

Spin City

. He hated not having cable but Angela said no. Cable was too expensive, she told him and he believed her. Now he was stuck with an apartment he didn't want and absolutely nothing to do. He stuck his head in his bathroom, then spied a major source of stench. Dirty laundry. He sighed, shrugging. Might as well get it done.

The Palmview Apartments offered spacious residences and yards of impressive landscaping but the laundry room left much to be desired. Two heavy duty Whirlpools and a matching set of dryers were crowded into a small space and served almost 40 families. Needless to say, they were always busy and this time of the morning was the best time to catch them free. He hefted the laundry basket, skipped down the stairs and walked towards the room. He was happy to find both machines open and he set about separating darks from lights, filling each washer with soap, then following with clothes.

"Um, excuse me." Blaine turned towards the girl, his hands on his hips. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Depends on what it is." She was cute, even dripping with rain water. Button nose, auburn hair and green eyes. Perky tits and long legs with freckled thighs.

"I need a washer. I have an interview to go to and I have to wash my outfit."

Blaine shook his head, bending back to his task. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that." He stood, his hands full of smelly clothes. "Do you know how hard it is to catch these suckers free?"

"Yes, I do. That's why I'm asking for the favor."

"I don't know ... "

"Well, you see. I have a lot of dirty clothes." She unbuttoned her shorts, sliding them down over slim hips and tiny bikini panties. Blaine's dark eyes followed the movement, alighting on the V between her thighs. "These are dirty." She tossed the jean shorts onto his pile of clothing, then caught the hem of her shirt in her hands, pulling it straight up. Her small breasts bounced into view, nipples hardening from the chilly air and she tossed the shirt on the pile. "This is dirty, too." Her fingers hooked in the sides of the panties, her eyes connecting with these. "I think these are dirty, too, but I need help to take them off."

Blaine placed his hands over her hips and slowly slid the underwear down, gazing into her eyes, then kissing her and loving her rough answer. She pulled his hair and ran her nails down his back, smiling when he placed her atop the dryer and pushed a thick finger into her pussy. Warm wetness met him, as warm and wet as the tongue she shoved in his mouth, and he growled in anticipation, his cock hardening painfully in the tight expanse of his shorts. He rectified the situation immediately, shoving them to the floor and pulling her hips forward. Her soaked quim enveloped him completely and he drilled her mercilessly, his fingers rolling her nipples and pinching them.

She moaned at his actions, pushing herself against him until she finally pushed him back, jumped down and presented her ass. Blaine gave it a good-natured smack, happily supplying her with more when she begged for it. His slick cock re-entered her hot box and he slammed into her again and again, his balls slapping her humid flesh. Her first orgasm tore through her, shocking him with its intensity and he valiantly fought off his own release, gritting his teeth and slamming even harder into her.

Her second drenched him with so much cream that his balls were coated as well as the insides of her thighs. She howled with each ripple, squeezing her breasts with one hand and bracing herself against the machine with the other. She urged him to go deeper and harder with every stroke until she was wailing and shaking in the throes of a major orgasm. Blaine released his load, his semen mingling with her copious cream and dripping down her legs and onto the floor. They stayed that way for a few long moments, then he jerked his shorts back up and returned her sated smile.

"So, can I use the washer?"

"Absolutely." He grinned, handing her his shirt. "I'm in 214B. Just let me know when you're finished."

She blushed, suddenly shy and added her clothes to his in the machine. "Thank you."

Blaine dashed back to his apartment, not caring about the rain any longer. He was looking forward to her knock on the door. After all, she did have his shirt ...