As I snuck into the corridor I saw my best friend enter the washing room.
"Hi Mr. Smythe-Hobson." She said. "Could I ask you a favor?"
"Sure, Vanessa." My dad responded.
"Lucy has asked me to sleepover, but I hadn't really foreseen it. I'd love to stay, but I didn't bring any clothes for tomorrow..."
"I see." Said my dad.
I just bet he could see the little hussy naked! She was such a slut, with long legs, a pert ass, a long, lean body and tits her daddy bought her two years ago for her sweet sixteen. Right up my dad's alley.
"So, I was wondering, could you wash my panties?" She asked. "My dress will be fine, but they- um..."
"Oh. Oh, uhm I guess so. Sure. I'm just about to put my wife's in."
Vanessa giggled.
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to fish mine out. She'll never know... Her stuff is so much sexier than mine. You must feel lucky to have such a hot wife. Not that you're not hot, of course!"
The way it came out, I was surprised Dad didn't offer to swap her for mom on the spot.
I snuck closer, and peered through the gap. They were standing close together of necessity, the room being small and filled with the machines and washing products. Vanessa, naturally, still managed to push her tits in his face even more. He had his shorts on, and his shirt unbuttoned, and she was idly running one hand over his six-pack.
I'm not sure he noticed. Her bright yellow sundress set of her tan and pushed her boobs up magnificently, and I'm sure my dad got a good view of her areolas through the light fabric.
"Well, I'm nearly done, so just leave them here later, perhaps. " My dad suggested nervously. Mom was away for a month, and he'd always fancied that hussy Vanessa, but I could tell he was reluctant to start something.
Vanessa flashed her sluttiest smile at him.
"Oh no, Mr. Smythe-Hobson! Please do finish. Just turn around and I'll have them off." My vision turned red. How dare she! And the room with a huge mirror, at the other end, too. She'd be showing my dad everything!
My dad nodded, then turned sideways, trying not too conspicuously to look in the mirror.
Vanessa lifted her dress sheer over her head and off. Her lithe, muscled form was covered with a thin layer of fat, making her sleek and feminine rather than athletic. She was shining with a sheen of sweat. Unconsciously, I started rubbing my panties.
"Can you hold this for me?" She asked my dad innocently, handing him the thin yellow fabric of the dress.
He couldn't help glancing her over as she passed it. And I could see his boner sprouting in his pants- sooo big! I salivated a bit in my mouth, licked my lips. That bitch! No way was Vanessa getting her hands on my daddy!
She then wriggled excessively to work her panties over her ass. Bending over, she pushed her ass against him.
"Oops." She said. "It's so difficult getting them over my heels." It seemed so as she made a spectacle of herself, pushing her pussy all the way round against his big, rough hands I'm sure. I was going to get her back for this!
I realised my hand was now down my panties and spreading my lips. I bit my lip again, and moved my other hand to my nipple. As much as I hated her, this was turning hot.
Then she pushed back for real, putting her whole weight against him. Rubbing!
"Sorry!" She moaned. "Nearly there."
And with that she straightened so clumsily he had to grab her to keep from falling. She deftly pushed his hand up over her breast.
"Sorry!" They both said. "Don't look." Vanessa added. Then she giggled, and I nearly stepped in to kill her. I also came, quietly.
"Here they are." She said, pressing the panties against the hand that held her dress. My dad hadn't moved his other hand, which was still holding her boob, just as her butt was still rubbing up against his hardon.
Vanessa took the dress from him, and quasi-covered her front, trapping his hand on her boob.
"I'm sorry they're so smelly, Mr. Smythe-Hobson." She said. "I'm sure you can smell me all over them. I'm just so terribly sweaty with this heat."
Instinctively, my dad smelled her panties.
Realising what he'd done, he then stepped back. "Uhm." He said.
Vanessa lifted the dress over her head, twisting to give him a nice profile view of her boobs. I swear her nipples were the size of pencil erasers
"What's the matter?" She asked. "Are they too sweaty? Maybe you shouldn't put it in the laundry. After all, I'll be staying here tomorrow. You won't leer at me, will you mr. Smythe-Hobson?"
"Er. No. no." He stammered, the panties still at his nose. "But-"
"Just put it out of the way and I'll take it home to wash tomorrow." She continued, dropping the dress down, writhing as if it was a hula hoop.