Your washing machine has broken, and it's the weekend - nobody wants to come out to fix it, and you make an appointment for someone to come and look at it the next day.
The problem is, you are going out to dinner with your friends the next day, then on to a club for drinks, and your favourite outfit needs cleaning. You have a pile of other stuff that needs doing too, so hand washing is out of the question.
You decide to take your clothes down to the laundromat, and grab your iPad, to help with the wait.
When you get to the laundromat there is only one other guy there. He is sat reading a magazine, and nods hello. The laundromat is fairly small, and some of the machines are in use, while others have 'out of order' stickers on them.
You find the only two machines that are free are next to the seated guy. You set about loading your machine, but as you do so something falls from the pile - it's a black silk thong - just a tiny triangle of silk and two strings...
The thong lands right in front of the guy, who picks it up, and hands it to you, smiling...
"Thank you," you say, crimson with embarrassment, and noting on close inspection that the stranger is good looking and muscular under his tight tee shirt and jeans...
"No bother," he replies, a soft Scottish burr in his deep voice, which you find very attractive, "it wasn't heavy..."
You finish loading your machine, put the powder and money in and seat yourself across the laundromat to the stranger. You still feel flushed by the embarrassment of flinging your most intimate garment in front of a stranger, but that is coupled with thoughts of how attractive he is, and you wonder if seeing your thong may have given him some ideas...
You think about what he might have said and done instead of handing you your thong. You imagine different scenarios which all end with the stranger fucking you. After all, it has been some time since a man paid you any attention, and you are a woman in her prime...
Thinking about him taking you has your nipples hard, poking against your thin bra and tee shirt. You can feel a gathering dampness between your legs as you note his gaze upon you. There is an arrogance in his direct stare, but it is also playful, as a smile plays across his lips...
By now you are pretty turned on, and reach for your iPad, which you brought to pass the time. You google "good looking men," and gaze at the photos arrayed before you, imagining what it would feel like to be an object of desire again.
As you imagine more and more detail, you finally search for "big, hard cock." Some of the pictures are just of the organ itself, others have a full picture of the owner too... You find one that you like the look of - a man standing in profile - muscular, and not unlike the guy across the laundromat. You wonder if that is a subconscious choice, or if it's just that these are the kind of guys you find attractive...
The guy in the picture has one hand on his erect cock, which looks huge, and with the other hand he is cupping his balls. The combined effect of the picture and the presence of the stranger is to drive pulses of blood direct to your clit. You can feel the wetness beginning between your legs, and you know you are going to have to make yourself come if you are going to retain your composure.
You lift the empty bag that did contain your laundry onto your lap. You unzip your jeans and slide two fingers under your panties, sliding them over your now very wet lips and rubbing your clit...
You sneak a glance at the stranger, and you see that although he is looking in your direction, he seems to be looking beyond you, which almost disappoints you. You are getting off on the thought that maybe he might catch you doing what you are doing, and give you what you need.
"Can I ask you a question?" You hear him say, his words shocking you in the previous silence, a silence broken only by the sound of you frigging your wet pussy. "Yes," you reply "what is it?"
"Did you know the window behind you becomes reflective when it gets dark?" He asks. You turn and look, and the dusk is now full dark, and the window is indeed as reflective as a mirror. You suddenly realise that the stranger has seen everything you have been looking at on your iPad, and you flush a deep red - maybe he even saw your fingers sliding under your jeans...
"I, I'm sorry," you stutter, acutely embarrassed at being caught in public looking at hardcore pictures.
"That's ok," the guy replies, "you're entitled to some fun, everybody is, I just thought you should know I could see it, especially since it may also be visible outside in the street."
His accent, coupled with his now frank appraisal of your body, and the fact that you know that he knows how horny you are, makes you even wetter.
"If you want to keep looking, why don't you come and sit here," he indicated the chair next to him, "there's plenty of room, and you can do what you like without fear of interruption..."
