Once again, having had put off doing her laundry until the very last minute - which was Sunday evening in this case, Laura found herself loading a plastic blue basket full of her clothing. The only items of dress which were still clean were old and comfortable, and felt good against skin: old shorts, much too small for her now, and a very thin pink top, with thin straps on her smooth brown shoulders, and thin fabric below which didn't quite cover her navel. Gathering the last of her dirty clothes, which included all of her bras, panties, work clothes and outfits which she wore socially - on the rare occasion when she went out - socks, casual slacks, and so on, she looked for her detergent.
Making rent meant to economize, which also meant that every piece of clothing that she owned, save some shorts and a skimpy top, were all washed at the same time. She hoarded quarters for such occasions, especially after her last roommate moved out, and she swore that no matter what, she would never have another. No chance of betrayal, of being wounded by someone who was supposed to have been her friend.
Her last boyfriend, Bill, was sleeping with Laura's roommate behind her back. Laura had not suspected a thing, which had made it even worse when she came home one day to find them almost in mid-coitus near the living room couch, Bill's small but adequate cock swollen and red, and wet with Amanda's slippery discharge. They both stammered for an explanation, but it was obvious that there was none to be had. They were both completely naked and had obviously been fucking each other. Though by the time Laura had keyed and opened the front door after unexpectedly getting off of work two hours early, Bill and Amanda had found time to at least disengage and were in the act of standing up. She screamed for both of them to get out, trying not to look at Amanda's body, full large breasts and nipples perfectly placed an inch or so below the middle, slender hips and flat stomach, long legs and white milky skin. Laura had never seen Amanda naked before that moment, but it was something that she had never forgotten.
After that, and after Amanda had come back to remove the last of her personal possessions, Laura often allowed herself to fantasize about it even though it was a painful memory. It turned her on, and she didn't know exactly why - to examine it was painful - but sometimes at night, and even some mornings, she would find herself remembering that last vision of Bill and Amanda.
Laura would find herself teasing her clitoris and then furiously masturbating and bringing herself to a sweet and thorough climax. In most of these fantasies, she would find herself interrupting Bill and Amanda as had actually happened, but instead of feeling hurt and betrayed she found herself naked and with them, watching Bill's hard cock slide in and out of Amanda's dripping wet pussy. Amanda would have her head back and her mouth open, moaning incoherently while Bill sucked on one of Amanda's hard nipples. Laura would be licking and teasing the other one while gently cupping Bill's tight ball-sack, feeling his body tighten and knowing that he was going to come in less than a few more deep thrusts inside of Amanda.
And Amanda then came, and grabbed Laura's waist and urged Laura to bring her now soaking wet cunt above Amanda's waiting mouth, where Amanda skillfully and eagerly began to bring Laura to climax. Moving her tongue across Laura's engorged clit, Amanda would tease it, and then lick it harder until Laura couldn't stop herself from coming.
The fantasy sometimes changed, but it was always the three of them. She always found it silly afterward, because she knew that she would likely never see either of them again, and she had no desire to. The mere thought of ever seeing Bill again made her ill, and she was even more disappointed in Amanda, who had been a friend for over five years. It was just a fantasy, after all.
Even as recently as last night, more than eight months after it happened, Laura had found herself completely turned on by it again and had almost brought herself to orgasm before a noise had startled her from somewhere outside. It was the new neighbor, a handsome but strange boy who was rattling something quite loudly out on his balcony above her bedroom - Laura heard him curse whatever it was that made a loud noise. He then went back in through his sliding-glass door, whatever his name was, and the mood was then broken so she dozed off to the sound of her radio.
* * *
Laura had gathered her laundry, and found some detergent underneath the bathroom sink. She then stood, facing the mirror, and took in her appearance for no reason in particular. The thin top with small shoulder straps accentuated her small and firm breasts, her large red nipples easily seen through the fabric. Her waist, thin and slightly angled above the top of her shorts blended forward into a flat and smooth stomach.
She liked her own body.
Her long hair was pinned up, revealing completely her smooth and clear complexion, from years of abstaining from piling on too much makeup. As she turned to leave the bathroom, she looked back into the mirror to observe her ass. It was still, as it had always been in her opinion, her most sexy feature, although the few men that she had ever slept with had all told her the same thing: It was the entire package. Her breasts, although small, sported magnificent large red nipples with areolas that puffed out pleadingly, as if longing to be sucked. Her ass was perfectly proportioned to her body, and had enjoyed being grabbed while she was on top. Her shoulders, smooth and perfect, as was the rest of her body.
So they said.
Especially Bill; Laura had counted Bill's opinion until she caught him with Amanda. She became disgusted with herself for allowing his memory to creep back into her mind, and indignantly stormed out into the living room, detergent in hand, grabbed the big plastic blue basket, and headed out toward the apartment laundry room.
Even though it was dark out, it was quite hot and sticky, and Laura's initial embarrassment about her skimpy attire quickly vanished. The two cute men who lived on the other side of the apartment complex - one married and the other living with his girlfriend - were never around, and the only other guy who would even be within eyeshot of her was the weird new guy who lived upstairs. She had only seen him from a distance, and that was rare - usually with another guy either entering or leaving, and usually either in the afternoon or in the morning, and she had never met him anyway.
Besides, the laundry room was only twenty feet from her front door.
When Laura entered, she wasn't paying much attention so that she was startled to see a guy, perhaps twenty, a paperback in one hand and a beer in the other, sitting atop one of the machines. On the floor lay a huge pile of dirty laundry, and every one of the four machines appeared to be in use. He was dressed in jeans with no shirt and no shoes or socks. His long brownish hair was combed back recklessly with a day's worth of stubble on his face, and in spite of that rouge appearance his boyish shyness caused Laura to have a moment of indecision. She admired his body, just enough hair on his stomach and chest, but not too much. He wasn't muscular, but was fit, his muscles toned, and his skin slightly brown. Sensing that someone was present, he quickly looked up from behind his book and his blue-green eyes met Laura's dark brown eyes.
"Um," he stammered.
"Er," Laura recovered, "You're using all of them."
"No, I mean, here, let me give you half."
He jumped down frantically and instantly shut off two of the machines.
Laura turned to leave and said, "No, that's fine I can come back later..."
"Please, I didn't mean to hog them all, here - take these two and accept my apology," he interrupted.
His voice was pleasant and confident outside of his shy demeanor, and Laura stopped and turned to watch him taking out his wet clothing, flopping the soaked and soapy mess on top of one of the two counters next to the dryers. He almost looked as good from the back as he did from the front, his tight jeans revealing a small tight ass, his back was tight and somewhat muscular, with broad shoulders and the slightest bit of tone in his triceps. He was working furiously, and had both washing machines emptied in seconds.
"Please, I'm sorry," he insisted.
"These two are yours. I've never seen anyone in here on a Sunday night before, I just assumed..."
"I usually wash earlier in the day. Besides, how would you know who washes here? You've only lived here for a couple of months," Laura said, interrupting his excuse.
Laura instantly regretted the way that her last words came out. As he faced her, his wet stomach and chest reflected the light from the dim bulb above, and his jeans were damp and soapy from his own half-washed laundry. She noticed his cock through his jeans, was he aroused? If he wasn't, he was hung very well, much better than Bill had been - Bill's cock wasn't even as big as the bulge in this guy's pants when Bill was completely erect.
