I sat on the folding table swinging my feet and watching my laundry whirl around in the dryer and figured I'd hit bottom. Please...this had to be the bottom. It was Saturday night, and I was sitting in a Laundromat watching my shorts whirl around. I sighed again, one of the really big dramatic sighs, and started to eat a chocolate bar I'd brought with me. I didn't even bother to look up when the door made the 'ding' noise that meant someone had entered. I did look up when the cologne slid under the smell of the detergent and fabric softener. Spicy. Masculine. I nearly gagged on the chocolate bar, and had to take a fast drink of cola to wash it down.

He was about my age, but had really made better use of his time. He had the muscled body of an athlete. Short, nicely styled brown hair. Big eyes, high cheekbones, perfect teeth. Tan. Made an old T-shirt and shorts look great. Long corded legs descending into white socks and some kind of activity shoe. I groaned internally. I didn't need Mr. Perfect tonight. Well, actually, I did need him, but knew damn well I wasn't going to get him. I watched him put his laundry in the machine. Some kind of uniform, probably softball. Tight biking shorts and shirts. All sorts of sporting clothes. And very hot silk underwear. Mr. Perfect had a life. An active life. I sighed and looked away. After a while, I felt eyes on me. I turned, and Mr. Perfect was leaning on the folding table staring at me. Openly staring. It was irritating, but I couldn't think of a damn thing to say. He could. 'You know,' he said softly, 'I'm washing a perfectly clean load of clothing right now. There's a washer and dryer in my apartment. So the least you could do is talk to me.'

I turned into a stupid, silent lump and continued to stare at him. He flashed the perfect teeth at me and walked to stand in front of me. He was so damned close. My cock got hard, and I was too shaken to try and hide it. He looked down at it and smiled again. 'Well,' he said softly. 'Part of you likes me. Now if I can only get the rest of you to like me.' He put his palms on my thighs and rubbed slightly. My cock tried to climb out of my shorts. I swear, I could hear the damn thing whimper. He rubbed my hard shaft with a knuckle and the sensation made my back arch and my mouth open. 'Long time for you, too,' he said gently. 'My name is Ron.' Then he slid a hand behind my head, pulled me forward and kissed me. His mouth was careful at first, cautiously exploring until he felt my response. Then his tongue grew more aggressive as I sucked at it hungrily. I wrapped my arm and legs around his strong body and held on. He kissed like he had invented it, and I felt drunk.

His hands pulled my shirt up, and his mouth ducked to my left nipple. He sucked it gently, flicking his tongue back and forth over it as it hardened and thrust at him. He nibbled on it gently and I started to shake. He took my hand and put my fingers on the nub. I squeezed and turned it as he moved his mouth to my right nipple and gave it the same treatment. I sat and played with both nipples as he ran his open mouth along the outside of my shorts, teasing my cock. He stood up, grinned at me, and drew me slowly off the table. I followed him blindly. He hoisted me up on the washing machine that contained his clothes. I gasped as the vibrations tingled my ass. He grinned again, opened my pants and drew out my cock. He smiled down at it, lowered his mouth and licked my swollen cockhead tenderly, then drew it into his mouth and sucked.

The combination of my own nipple pinching, the washing machine vibrating against my ass and his mouth sucking my cock was too much for me. I was very afraid I'd explode too soon. I put both hands down to the edge of the washing machine and gripped it tightly. The whoosh-whoosh of the cylinder turning was communicating directly with my ass and balls, and what Ron was doing to my cock was incredible. I looked down at him. His eyes were closed, his expression intent. His mouth moved with such purpose, his fingertips sliding up and down the shaft. Suddenly, his eyes opened, and he grinned at me. Grinned at me with a mouth full of my cock. I went rigid, staring at him. I'd never seen anybody so damned happy about sucking cock before. At least, sucking my cock. He lapped at my precum, then moved his mouth away and gave me a gentle smile. 'You're fighting it,' he said. 'Quit that.' I stared at him helplessly. 'I want it to last, ' I said, my voice quivering. He winked at me. 'I'll keep doing it until you're tired of it,' he said, the laughter echoing in his voice.

Thankfully, my facial expression gave him a warning that it was coming...uh...cumming. He fastened his mouth on me and sucked hard, swallowing every drop of my cum as it pumped into his mouth. Some kind of contented sound purred out of his throat. My vision grew a little dark around the edges as I pitched forward. He caught me, laid my head against his shoulder and ran his hands up and down my back. Strong, but gentle, and very, very sensuous. I was becoming emotionally attached to the purring sound he made. The washer kicked into spin, and my ass vibrated like crazy. I heard Ron chuckle, and looked down. My half-hard cock was twitching from the movements of the washer. I gave him a silly grin. 'You've got to feel this,' I said. 'It's incredible.' His grin grew wider. 'I can feel it. I've got my cock and balls pressed against the front of the thing. Tell me...are we having a threesome? Technically, I mean?' I let go and laughed on his shoulder until my sides hurt. The washer wound down, made a few clanking noises and went silent.

Ron gave me a look that was pure, delighted horniness, and fished two quarters out of his pocket.

'And...off we go again,' he said, shoving the quarters in. I looked at him, then kissed him hard as the sound of rushing water began. 'You're wicked,' I murmured into his mouth. He smiled around my tongue thrust. 'I try,' he mumbled back. I managed to get my pants more-or-less closed, slid off the washer, waited until my knees solidified, then stabbed a thumb at the machine. 'Up,' I ordered. He hopped up and spread his tan, muscular legs. I admired him for a minute, then began to lick and nibble those incredible thighs. I rubbed my open mouth against his bulge. He groaned and leaned back on his hands. 'Damn, that feels so good,' he moaned. I teased him with my mouth until he was shaking and begging in a language he was making up as he went along. I managed to get his shorts open around his throbbing, swollen cock. He was gorgeous. Long and thick, the silky head swollen and oozing, the shaft almost purple. I touched his balls with a finger. They felt solid and heavy. The washer went into its whoosh-whoosh cylinder-rotating phase and he moaned. I ran my tongue the length of his cock, around the head, then back down. I slid it up one side, again around the head, and down the other side. I kept repeating the pattern, until he mumbled something completely unintelligible at me. His facial expression seemed quite sincere, so I nodded agreeably.

I tormented him until he was trembling so violently that his body was shaking the washer. Finally, I closed my mouth around his cockhead and swallowed him deep. He clapped a hand over his mouth in time, and the animal howl was mostly held in. I sucked him hard, my lips clamped tightly around his shaft, feeling him slide deeply into my mouth, his thickness moving over my tongue and very close to the top of my throat. I closed my eyes, relaxed and concentrated, thinking of the purring sound he made and the effort he had put into meeting me. To my knowledge, no one had every put the slightest bit of effort into meeting me. I felt him enter the top of my throat. All the way, I thought. I want you all the way in me. Every inch of you. I want every inch of you inside me. I kept sliding my mouth up and down his rod, until I felt my lips tight around the base of his cock, my nose buried in his tight, curly pubic hair. I slid him gently out and looked up at him. He still had the hand slapped over his mouth, and his eyes were huge. 'Always wanted to try that,' I said calmly. His face changed and he came at me.

Well, I thought, we're on the floor now and he's lost his mind. I was on my hands and knees. I still had my T-shirt on, but finding my shorts and briefs might take some time. Ron was behind me, out-of-control with lust, tonguing my ass furiously. He had one hand on my hip for balance; the other was massaging my balls. He kept trying to talk, which is impossible with a tongue up someone's ass, but felt very good to the ass in question. He tongued me, nibbled me, bit me a couple of times. I could hear his breathing, coarse and ragged as he gasped to get air into his lungs. He did something with his hand in the laundry basket, then I felt a cold slick finger slide into my crack. I chuckled inwardly. Mr. Perfect had come prepared. The lubricated finger gently pressed against my hole, increasing the pressure until it was inside me. I groaned in appreciation, and his breathing grew louder as he finger-fucked my ass. It felt so damned good. 'Ron,' I said loudly and clearly. 'I want you so fucking much. I want your big cock in my ass. I want you to fuck the hell out of me until you flood me with your cum. I want you to cum so big it pours down both my thighs.'

You'd really think a man that beautiful would be used to that kind of talk, wouldn't you? Nope. I felt his face on my back for a minute as he fought to control himself, his one pumping finger becoming two pumping fingers. Two thrusting, slamming, pumping fingers. He lubricated his cock, my left ass cheek, my left calf and the floor. After several attempts to drill new holes in me, he connected with the one that was there and impaled me. The phrase 'pleasure/pain' was defined for me at that moment. It hurt like hell, but it was also the most exquisite, intensely erotic sensation I'd ever had. 'Fuck me,' I groaned loudly. 'Take me. I want you, Ron. I want you to fuck me hard.'

He gripped my hips and fucked me...hard. I arched my back and thrust my ass back at him, wanting him more, wanting him harder, wanting him deeper than I'd ever wanted a man in my life. His balls slammed into me. His hands were like claws, his fingers imbedded in me like they'd never let go. I swear I felt his cock swell even more and begin to twitch. He made one continuous helpless sound that grew in volume and pitch. Finally it reached a crescendo, and he slammed his cock home and held it there as he pulsed out an incredible amount of hot cum. An amount that flooded me and overflowed. I felt his hot seed pouring down my thighs. I looked under myself, then got my face out of the way as I felt my own cock throb and swell. I shot cum all over my chest in an orgasm that both startled and overwhelmed me.

Ron lay down on my back. I let him stay like that until his slippery cock softened and slid out of me. 'Uh, Ron,' I said finally. 'The floor.' 'What about it?' he mumbled. 'Let's get off it,' I said. 'My knees are dying.' I managed to get him standing and rearranged his clothes, then propped him up against a washer. I found my shorts and briefs and got them on, then made an attempt to get all the laundry finished and gathered. Ron just stood and smiled a lot.

Eventually, we moved into his place. He had the washer and dryer. We use it a lot.


Morgan Grayson

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