0 comments/ 17190 views/ 0 favorites The Spin Cycle By: Dennis Page Every week or so I load up the laundry basket and head for the corner Wash-o-Matic. It's your typical Laundromat. A double row of washing machines lined up down the middle of the store with front-loading dryers along both walls. Neon lights hum and flicker overhead. A sign in the window announces "Wash, Dry and Fold" to passerby's. I lugged my basket into the store and sorted my clothes into three of the machines. I'm careful to put the whites in one machine, darks in another, and towels in a third as I once turned my dress shirts into an attractive guacamole color by mixing in a pair of green socks. I looked around the place as I worked. It was almost empty. An elderly lady was folding her laundry while another gal, who was much younger, transferred her clothes from the dryers onto the folding table. I recognized the younger woman as Cindy. She lives in my apartment building, and was one of the first tenants to introduce herself when I moved in. After loading my machines and inserting the required fist of quarters, I sat in a chair and watched Cindy take her clothes out of the dryer. She was dressed in jogging style shorts and a short T-shirt that left her bare midriff exposed. As she bent over to unload the dryer, her shorts rode up her ass exposing more of her firm cheeks. She had a fantastic body, a fact that didn't escape me when I first met her. Her breasts were big and firm, and just a bit too heavy for her slender frame. They swayed gently back and forth as she bent over again to retrieve more clothes from the big dryer. Just watching her sexy body at work made the cobra stir in its basket. She turned and looked in my direction as people do when they sense that someone is staring at the back of their head. I was staring, but not at the back of her head. She smiled and said hello. I got up and walked over to the folding table. "Hi, I didn't know if you would remember me, " I said. "Sure, I remember you. You live in my building. Roger, isn't it?" she said with a smile. I nodded in response trying to focus on her eyes and not the firm nipples pointing through her T-shirt. "You'll have to excuse the way I look," she said as she ran her hand through her hair. "I needed to do a few loads of laundry tonight, so I just threw on something and ran down here. Didn't think I'd meet anyone I knew." "Yeah, me too. I'm down to my last pair of underwear, " I said with a laugh. "That's my signal that it's time to do the laundry. Otherwise, I'd be changing my shorts by turning them inside out." Cindy laughed. "Well, I'm a bit obsessive about clean clothes," she said as she picked up a pair of lacy bikini panties. She folded them neatly and set them on the table and reached for a matching bra. An image quickly formed in my mind of Cindy in her red panties and bra. "You've got nice, ah, underwear, " I said impulsively as she picked up another pair of bikini panties from the pile. "Thank you," she said without hesitation. I love wearing sexy underwear. Especially, if I'm in business attire. But I don't wear any underwear when I do the laundry. That way I get an extra pair of undies for the week. Which do you like better? The red or the black ones?" "Ah, well, actually, they're both nice, " I stammered as another image formed in my mind of me peeling her panties off her firm ass, holding them to my nose and inhaling deeply. She folded them and put them neatly on the pile. The elderly lady finished loading her cart, pulled it passed the folding table and through the door. It was after 11 PM and the place was empty except for me, Cindy, and her pile of lacy panties and bras. Just then a loud buzzing sound erupted from one of the washing machines. "What in the hell is that?" I said over the noise. "Your washing machine load is unbalanced, " Cindy said. She walked over to the machine, lifted the lid and rearranged the load of towels. The buzzer immediately stopped. "When the towels get over to one side of the tub, the washer starts to shake and vibrate. " "You sound like an expert," I said as I admired her cleavage while she straightened out the problem. She closed the lid and the machine started again. "Want to know a little secret?" she said with a grin. "When I was a teenager, my mom made me do my own laundry. I'd go down into the basement, load up the washing machine with beach towels and then wait for the spin cycle. Once the old washer started to shake and vibrate, I'd lean over on top of the warm lid. I could feel the vibrations through my tits. It gave me a tingling sensation all over. Isn't that crazy?" The image of Cindy getting herself off on the washing machine made my cock stir in my shorts. I pictured her hugging the vibrating washer, pressing her tits against the smooth white metal as it massaged her nipples and sent tingles down to her wet pussy. My cock got so hard that a visible bulge showed in my pants. Cindy looked down at my growing embarrassment and smiled. Her plan, if she had one, was working. And if not, she was the best cock teaser I had ever met. Suddenly the washer voiced its displeasure again with the unbalanced load. Cindy opened the lid and rearranged the towels once more. This time I followed up on her cue. "Want to recreate a fond memory?" I said with a sly grin as I gently urged her to lean over on top of the warm washing machine. "What if someone comes in?" she said with some caution in her voice. I didn't answer. My heart was beating fast, afraid that she would resist. But she willingly complied with my suggestion. "You have such a nice firm ass," I said. I ran my hands over her butt and traced the outline of her shorts with my fingers. I wanted to feel her wet pussy, and finger fuck her. The thought of doing that to her made my cock stiff and hard. I put my hand gently in the middle of her back and pressed her tits into the top of the machine. She wiggled and squirmed to increase the sensation of the vibrations through her nipples. She moaned softly as she enjoyed the ride. "Oh, god, " she moaned as my hand slid between her thighs. Her pussy was wet and so warm. "That's it. Finger my pussy. I want to feel your fingers inside me," she gasped. I pulled at the waistband of her shorts and peeled them off her ass. They slid down her long legs and she kicked them aside without breaking contact with the pulsing machine. By now my cock was so stiff it hurt as it strained against my shorts. I unzipped my fly and the cobra sprung from the basket. It felt so good to be free of its constraint. I stroked the firm, hard shaft as my other hand massaged Cindy's wet mound. I resisted the urge to plunge my cock deep inside her. That would come, but later. Right now I was focused on turning that washing machine into an amusement park ride. I slid my hand up and down the crack of her ass brushing her pussy gently with my fingers. She gasped and wiggled her ass to increase the contact. "I can't believe I'm letting you finger my pussy," she cried as the washer continued to tremble under its load of towels. "I hardly know you, and I'm letting you finger fuck my pussy just because it feels so good. Oh, god that's it. Stick a finger in my pussy. Just like I let the boys in the neighborhood finger fuck me down in my basement." I slid my finger deeper inside her wet box and pushed her T-shirt up to expose her big tits. The nipples were hard from being pressed against the lid of the washing machine and I pinched one of them with my free hand. She twisted and teased the other nipple with her hand. "I'd invite the boys down into the basement while my parents were gone. The teenage boys were always horny, and I'd let them play with my tits. They liked seeing my tits. It was easy to make their cocks hard. I loved the feel of their hard cocks in my hand and mouth. I had sex with them just because I wanted to see them shoot their cum all over my tits. Just like I'm going to make you shoot your cum all over me." Cindy turned around from her position on the washer and sat on the lid of the machine. She reached down and stroked my cock slowly up and down its engorged length. I inserted my finger inside her pussy and pumped it in and out. Hearing her talk about fucking and sucking her boyfriends had gotten me as hard as a rock. My cock pulsed with her touch. "You want me to treat you like a slut, don't you?" "Oh yes, like your slut. I want you to use my pussy. I want you to use my pussy for your pleasure. Just like a slutty tramp would do. Just like those boys in my basement. Then fuck me and make me cum." Her pussy was on fire. My finger encircled her clit and gently massaged the hard little pearl. Her juices flowed onto my hand and made the metal slick. I flicked her clit with my finger and then slid two fingers deep inside her. She grabbed my wrist and moved my fingers in and out of her faster and faster as she continued to stroke my cock. "I want to feel that big cock inside my pussy," she cried as my fingers explored the deep recesses of her. "Position me like you want. I love it when men position me to receive their big cock. Put me where you want me," she muttered between gasps. "Spread my pussy wide open and drive that cock deep inside." My legs weren't long enough to fuck her on top of the washing machine. God, I wanted to. But I spotted a stool over in the corner. As I put it in place I watched as she moved her fingers in rapid little circles over her clit and then sucked on them. Standing on the stool put me in just the right position. "Put your feet on the top of the machine," I ordered, "and slide your hot little pussy over to the edge." "Oh baby, fuck me on top of the washing machine while it's still spinning," she said as she continued to rub her clit feverishly. I leaned against the spinning, vibrating white porcelain and felt a tingle radiate through my balls. I let them rest on top of the machine and rubbed the head of my cock against her pussy lips. The sensation of the pulsing washer and her hot, wet pussy almost pushed me over the edge. I fought to regain control as she grabbed my ass with her hands and pulled me into her. I plunged my cock deep inside as Cindy tossed her head back and closed her eyes. The washer continued to spin and vibrate as I buried my swollen cock deep inside her pussy. She kneaded my ass cheeks with both hands and then pulled me tight, not letting me move. The vibrations of the spinning tub moved my cock deep inside her in ways that I'd never felt before or since. My balls tingled and felt like they were going to explode. "I've always wanted to be fucked like this," she cried. "So deep, so hard on top of this fucking machine. You're going to make me cum. Just like a fucking slut." Then her body tensed as her orgasm spilled over the top. I felt her pussy muscles pulse and pull on my cock as she gave in to her release. Within seconds I felt my own cum boil in my balls as my body was racked by my orgasm. I pulled out and shot my load all over her pussy and the top of the washer. She rubbed it over her flat stomach and then stroked my cock to milk every last drop. "I love it. I love your cum all over my pussy," she moaned. "I told you I'd make you cum all over me. Just like I did in my basement with those horny teenage boys." I see Cindy all the time now. We aren't serious about each other. At least, not in a romantic sense. Neither of us wants that. But we like to act out our little fantasies and sport fuck. And we've come up with lots of interesting places and ways to do it. Guess which way is our favorite? The Spin Cycle I have to say I love sex in all its forms; masturbation is a big turn on for me. It is only then that I seem to cum; I don't know if it is because I allow my mind to go wherever it wants to, instead of concentrating on the act of love making itself. Over the years I have masturbated with all sorts of objects, from my fingers to household items like bottles, handles of brushes, electric toothbrushes, but it was only when I found that the vibrations from my washing machine on full spin sent me to heaven in orgasm terms that I really found the one item in my house that was always able to take me to places I had only dreamed of. My neighbour asked me just after I found my new found toy what was going on, but I was able to fob him off with a story of how I had a dirt phobia, and how I was fastidiously clean. He seemed to buy the story, but I did think that he was unsure of me after I told him of this, but he never said anything more about it. All was going fine. I was getting off with my washing machine's help up to four times a day. I found that the best way for me to get the best result was to straddle the corner of the machine as the spin cycle built up to fast spin; by the time the spin cycle finished I would cum. Sometimes I experienced multiple orgasms during the cycle, leaving me frantically thrashing about on the floor after slipping into a heap of orgasmic blubber. After months of pleasure, disaster strikes. It was first thing in the morning when my washing machine broke down, just before the fast spin cycle started. I was only half way there; I was so frustrated that my fingers went crazy on my clit with two fingers inside my cunt, the fingers on my other hand frantically milked my rock hard clit, but to no avail. I was unable to cum with the same gusto that the washing machine gave me; it was more of a whimper than an orgasm. The same day that the machine broke down I called the mechanic. I was shocked when he told me that he needed to take it away to repair; I was in shock. After two days, in sheer sexual frustration and in an act desperation, I set out on my quest for satisfaction. It was three in the morning; it was dark and I set out on my quest. I left my house to go to the all night laundrette in the centre of town. Luckily it was empty and despite being petrified of being caught, I eased myself on to one of the machines as the spin cycle started. In mid-cycle I realised that I was not alone. I was being watched, but I was to far gone to care. The rhythm of the machine had taken me to the point that I wanted to be; as the first wave of an orgasm swept through me, I felt the hands of my watchers on my body, heightening the pleasure I was going through. It was only moments after I felt the first hand on me that my body experienced its first orgasm. It washed through me like a tornado. I opened my eyes to find two men groping me; they started to push me harder against the machine. As I started to panic, I suddenly felt my knickers being pulled down and the cheeks of my arse pulled apart. I could feel my body giving me away as my juices began to run down my thighs. As a second orgasm started to pulse through my body I felt the shaft of one of my attackers push between the cheeks of my virgin arse. I tried to pull away, but the effects of my orgasm and the second man holding me against the machine were to much for me. His prick came up against my arse hole and I tried to keep him out, but my body was no longer under my control. His prick pushed me open and I attempted to scream, but to no avail; the second man put his hand over my mouth, gagging me, but I screamed with all my heart. The man in my arse pumped furiously, trying to keep up with the spin cycle on the washing machine, and as the cycle slowed he shot his load of cum into my arse, growling as it left his body. My body began to convulse as the remnants of the orgasm played with my senses, but the next thing I heard brought me back to some sense of reality. "It's my go now. Bend her over that machine and set it off. I want a piece of that cunt." The two men bent me over the machine, pushing my breasts hard against the top, leaving my naked arse sticking out into the shop. I felt the machine start to vibrate as the second man pushed his prick into my wet cunt. I heard my pussy squelch as he slipped inside me; I had not had many men, but they all told me how tight my pussy was and this tightness seemed to excite this man. He soon got into a rhythm and increased his speed as the spin cycle built up. I was not as excited by this but I did start to feel the tingling of an orgasm building as he thrust hard into me. He pulled out just as he shot his cum and I felt it splatter my arse, and then they let me go. I slipped off the machine as they disappeared out of the door. I had been raped with the help of a washing machine; I was no longer an anal virgin; and I had taken two men into me in the same session. Although it had not been my plan to be fucked, as I sat there with the spin cycle winding down I realised it was the experience of a life time. I picked my knickers up from the ground and used them to wipe my pussy and my abused arse, then slipped them into my pocket and walked home. Once there I found some cream and rubbed it around my burning arsehole. I let a finger slip into my sore hole and the cream soothed the burning. As my fingers massaged it I found that my body was responding and the more I probed the hotter I became. Then I knew that I had, in this one night, become an anal slut.