This is a quick story written for a friend. Everyone is over 18.
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"And that's all the time we have for tonight. Join us tomorrow at ten for WXKY's ten o'clock news" the voice coming from the TV droned. It was just loud enough to register in Jen's tired and frustrated ears.
Jen struggled to open her eyes as her ears picked up the late news signing off. Her mouth felt really dry so she reached over to the coffee table for her cup, but when she picked it up, it felt empty. A quick little shake of the wrist confirmed it was. She sat up on the couch slowly, flexing her shoulders and feeling the satisfying crack of her back. Running her fingers through her shoulder length hair, red at the moment, but shifting to her natural brown, she wondered if there was any tea left in the refrigerator.
She shuffled her way across the small living room to the small kitchen. The kitchen's cracked linoleum floor felt clammy and sticky on her bare feet. She found a bit of luck in the fridge, there was enough tea left for a small glass. She reminded herself to remind herself to make more in the morning.
Jen shuffled out of the kitchen, across shag carpet that had to be from the seventies, that covered the rest of the tiny apartment, to the bedroom. The carpet tended to create static electricity when Jen shuffled her feet. Sometimes she would forget and zap herself on a light switch. Other times, she did it deliberately, zapping her boyfriend Steve when he least expected it.
The apartment was small and cheap, but Jen was very hopeful they would be able to afford something better and in a better neighborhood, once a couple of student loans were paid off in a few months. The loans took up a big chunk of her and Steve's budget.
Jen looked at the digital clock on the stove, it read 10:47. Steve had been working second shift for the last several months. Often, the shifts on the loading dock didn't end until two in the morning. By the time he dragged his bone dead body through the door of the apartment, it was often after three. Jen had to be up by six in the morning in order to make it to work by eight, but she was off tomorrow. She planned on sleeping in.
Before Steve started his second shift, they had been sexual dynamos. But, after a couple of months on the second shift and especially after the beginning of forced overtime, the opportunities for sexual release for the both of them had dwindled. Lately, it seemed to Jen that she was pulling teeth to get anything from Steve lasting more than a few minutes.
Jen groaned when she noticed the laundry hamper. Her body was only a moment from flopping into bed. Steve's work shirts glared at her, demanding she get them washed since he would need them in the morning. She sighed in resignation, knowing she promised to wash them. She stared at the clock and wondered if she would be able to just do it in the morning. Then she remembered her sister was due to pick her up in the morning.
Jen picked up the hamper, threw the detergent next to it on top and marched out of the room. She would get this done, then sleep in tomorrow. She grabbed a roll of quarters from the change jar in the kitchen and made sure her key was in her pocket. She snatched a magazine from the coffee table since her phone was still charging.
The night had been warm and the A/C worked intermittent for several months and Jen was dressed for comfort, not propriety. She wore a white spaghetti strapped tee shirt, her braless nipples poking firmly against the fabric due to the chill of the basement. Steve liked when she wore tee shirts like the one she had on. He enjoyed watching her breasts sway under the thin fabric. Her red nylon shorts were showing their age, but her toes were warm, snug in her fluffy slippers, a Christmas gift from Steve.
She made her way down three flights of stairs to the basement laundry room. She was quite happy noting it was empty and she had her pick of machines. Once the clothes were loaded and the machine started, Jen sat down in an uncomfortable, hard plastic chair and stretched her legs out. Her eyes drooped close, her magazine unread.
Boisterous voices and the clomps of footfalls on the steps leading to the basement laundry room, announced the arrival of unknown interlopers to Jen's peaceful and quiet interlude. The door flew open and three people Jen did not know personally, but she had seen them around the apartment complex, came in.
The first through the door was a tall, tanned, burly, biker guy. Well over six feet tall, with sunglasses holding his long brown hair back and a thick beard, he strode into the room as if he owned the place. His thick arms were covered in tattoos and a strained muscle tee shirt stretched tautly across his chest, faded, well worn jeans tight across his leg and strangely for a biker type, flip flops.
A diminutive woman with long dark brown, almost black, hair followed him carrying a large basket of clothes. She wore a loose flowered sundress, unbuttoned half way down her torso and her large breasts swaying under the thin material.
Another tall man, definitely not tanned, followed the woman into the room. He wasn't as tall as the first man, nor as burly. His tan cargo shorts bunched up against his waist due to a belt and had seen better days and his muscle shirt hung loose on his lanky frame.
The burly biker gave Jen a predatory look, his eyes undressing her as he passed by "Hey there honey, kinda late for washin' ain't it?"
The woman giggled and flashed Jen a megawatt smile, but her smoky eyes radiated unconstrained lust.
The last man licked his lips as he edged by Jen, "'scuse me little lady."
Jen felt uncomfortable with the three in the room. The biker leaned against the far wall with his huge arms crossed over his chest. Jen could feel his eyes on her as he traced his ways from her feet to her eyes. She crossed her arms over her ample chest and pulled her legs back under the hard chair she sat on.
The woman glanced over to Jen as she slowly dropped clothes into the dryer, seductively licking her plump red lips and batting her thick eyelashes. She dropped her eyes and looked intently at the cracked linoleum floor of the laundry room. She had never had a woman look at her the way this woman was looking at her.
The thin biker was far more overt. Looking at Jen with undisguised lust, he slowly lowered his left arm to his crotch and rubbed the growing bulge in his cargo shorts. She drew in a sharp breath and averted her eyes from the man. Jen felt her face flush beet red at the thought of this man, who she had seen a few times in the apartment complex, openly rubbing himself in front of her.
"What's a purty little thing like you doing up this late?" the burly biker asked.
Jen glanced at her washer and inwardly groaned, it was still on the wash cycle and it would be a while before it finished.
"Just, just getting some washing done for my boyfriend" Jen mumbled.
The thin man straightened up and leaned forward to Jen with a hand cupped to his ear, "What was that hon? Big Jim asked you'se a question."
"She's not too polite, Big Jim," the woman chuckled. "Maybe I should...give her a lesson in politeness."
Jen glanced at the woman. One hand rubbed up and down Big Jim's arm while the other twirled a short strand of her hair. When she saw Jen glancing at her, she snickered and puckered up lips, popping Jen a big kiss.
The man the other two called Big Jim slowly crossed the few steps that separated Jen from him like a predator stalking prey. As he crouched down in front of her, Jen turned her head away from him. Her breathing had increased and she felt fear in the pit of her stomach. Her fear had frozen her body in place and her lips tight. Jen felt beads of sweat break out on her forehead, her hands started feeling clammy.
"I've seen ya round here little missy" Big Jim said with a lecherous grin.
"Please, I...I don't want any trouble" Jen pleaded.
The woman laughingly mocked Jen "I don't want no trouble."
Jen glanced at the woman and the thin man with pleading eyes, but she was met with the hungry eyes of the woman and the thin man lewdly stroking the bulge in his shorts.
Jen went to stand, "I've got to go!"
"No, no there dear" Big Jim placed his large, beefy hand on Jen's knee. "Sit!" he commanded.
Jen was shaking as she sat back down. Big Jim remained crouched in front of her, "You are a rude young thing" he said. "I'm thinking Mona is right, maybe you do need a lesson in being polite."
"NO!" Jen found her voice. "I'm just going to go." Again, she started to get up to leave as quickly as she could, her laundry forgotten.
"But hon, yo washing ain't ready for the dryer. Them clothes will get smelly" Mona snickered again. She sauntered over to Jen's chair and placed her small hand on Jen's bare shoulder, "An we wouldn't want you to go back home with tha wrong smell on ya."
Jen shuddered as Mona's hand traced down her bare arm and Big Jim's hands ran up and down her bare thighs.
"What kinda lesson do ya think she needs Mona?" Big Jim asked huskily.
Mona scooted Jen over on the hard plastic chair, one thin arm draped around her and the other hand rubbing across Jen's stomach. "I'm a thinkin this rude hussy needs a spanking Big Jim. Pink up her ass and I think she'll remember to be polite."
Tears welled up in Jen's eyes as she pleaded, "No, please, I need to go back to my apartment."
Big Jim took Jen's hands that were crossed over her chest and commanded "Stand up little miss rudeness."
Jen shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks but she stood, as Jen's natural submissive nature surrendered to Big Jim's command.
Big Jim pushed Jen gently forward, "Bend forward and put your hands on that there washer missy!"
His voice brooked no opposition and Jen complied unsteadily.
"Please, please! I'm sorry, I won't be rude again!" she begged.
Jen screwed her eyes up when she heard Big Jim ask Mona, "How many swats Mona?"
"Till her cheeks are red!"
"And how am I gonna tell that?"
