11 comments/ 77145 views/ 9 favorites Busted! Ch. 01-03 By: bjameson I watched as her little green car pulled in next to mine, and my heart skipped a beat. I had been coming to this Laundromat at basically the same time every Sunday afternoon for over a year. It was the best time I had found, since there was never anyone else here at this time, and I didn't have to worry about not finding an available washer or dryer. About seven or eight weeks ago this one woman came in while I was there, and she had been coming every week since then. She never hung around, she just put her clothes into the machine and left, returning to dry them, and returning once again to take them home. I was attracted to her from the start. She was an inch or two taller than I, so my guess was that she was right around 6 feet tall. She was of slender build but not too thin. She always wore jeans that accentuated her long legs and rather nicely shaped butt, but loose fitting tops, as though she was trying to hide her bust. Loose fitting or not, it was obvious that she wasn't overly blessed in the breast department, which was actually one of the things I found so attractive, not being overly fond of large boobs. If I had to guess I would say she was an A-cup, possibly a small B. As I stole subtle glances at her over the past several weeks I noticed the occasional outline of a nipple pushing lightly against the fabric of her tops, which led me to believe that she probably didn't bother much with bras. Her light brown hair was feathered back in the front and hung loosely to her shoulder blades. Though it was mostly straight, there were some loose waves once it reached her shoulders. Her face was slender as well, matching her overall build, with high cheekbones, a small pert nose, and what appeared to be brown eyes. She always appeared to be smiling even when she wasn't. She wasn't stand out in a crowd beautiful, but I found her quite sexy in an average, 30-something, girl-next-door kind of way. I peered over the top of the magazine I was reading, trying not to be obvious as I checker her out. As usual, today she wore a pair of faded well-worn, low-rise jeans. Her top was a brown and rust, paisley patterned, smock of sorts. As always, it was very loose fitting, and was cut so the front and back angled to a point at her hips, and up the sides, exposing a surprisingly curvy waist. It was hung from her bare shoulders by a pair of thin straps that were long enough that the top left her underarms exposed, but not long enough to allow for even a hint of cleavage. I watched as she transferred her clothes from the washer to a dryer, started it up and left. On her way out she passed within a few feet of my chair, but avoided any glance in my direction. I watched as she backed out and drove away before returning my attention to my magazine. About 20 minutes later I heard my washer finally finish and got up to put them in a dryer. On the way back to my seat I stopped and watched her clothes spin around in her dryer. I checked the timer, noticing that they would be done in another 12 minutes. I looked out the window to make sure no one would be coming in, and then I opened her dryer. I reached in, tossing her clothes around until I spotted a lavender thong. I quickly removed it, placed it in my pocket, and restarted her dryer. I quickly glanced all around to make sure no one had come in to see what I had done before returning to my seat. I have never had much luck with women. I didn't think I was bad looking, but I also didn't have any illusions about myself either. I wasn't going to be fawned over by drooling women when I walked down the street. I'm pretty shy to begin with, and the thought of approaching an attractive woman usually scares the hell out of me. I can't dance, so it's useless for me to hit the dance clubs, and as a result, I haven't been with a woman since my last girlfriend dumped me for a co-worker more than a year ago. The frustrations brought on by my sexual inactivity were kept in check only by my daily masturbation sessions. I wished I owned stock in a personal lubricant company, at least then I could get back some of what I spent on the stuff every other week. From the moment I first saw her I spent every night lying awake fantasizing about her, which of course led to many stroke sessions. Three weeks ago, and I'm still not sure exactly why, as I had never done anything like it before, I had this uncontrollable need to have something of hers. I know it sounds stupid and really pathetic, but I knew I was never going to have balls enough to actually talk to her, and I was desperate enough in my horniness, and lust for her, that I thought an article of her clothing was about the closest I'd ever get to being with her. As I rooted around in her dryer that first time it was confirmed that the girl didn't even own a bra, which I thought was sexy as hell. I found a pair of panties, and figured that surely she wouldn't notice them being missing. I thought that she'd just assume that they disappeared with the occasional sock that dryers somehow manage to eat. The fact that they were in contact on a regular basis with a part of her that I'd give just about anything to be face-to-face with, made my cock start to swell as soon as they were in my pocket. Last week, the urge hit me again, and now here I was stealing yet another pair of her undies. I knew it was risky, that sooner or later she'd notice them being gone, but I couldn't help myself. I was in the process of folding my clothes when she returned. Usually she folded her shirts and jeans and just threw the socks and underwear in the basket and left. Today, however she did something that scared me. She actually went through and folded her socks and panties. "Oh shit!" I thought to myself, "she's going to notice!" When she opened the dryer and looked back inside to see if anything was still in there, I knew she realized something was missing. I practically slumped to the floor in relief when she grabbed her basket and walked out. When she came back in a minute later, my heart sank and a sudden rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins. "Fuck!" I thought, "I'm busted!" Sure enough, she walked straight over to me. I tried to pretend I didn't notice her, all the while I'm freaking out. I thought I was going to die when she stopped at my folding table. "Can I ask you a question?" she asked, as I tried to avoid looking at her. The two or three seconds during which I tried desperately to figure a way out of this seemed like an eternity. Realizing that I had no other options, I finally looked up and stammered nervously "Uh...Yeah...I...I guess." "Have you been stealing my underwear?" she asked, the tone of her voice sounding slightly irritated, but also strangely curious. My eyes grew wide and my jaw dropped a bit as I tried to come up with a way to deny her accusation. Noticing the panicked look on my face, she continued, "Relax, I'm not gonna call the cops, I just want to know. I mean, it seems that every week lately I've lost another pair of underwear, and you're the only one here every time." I looked back down at my clothes in embarrassment and shame, and uttered a barely audible "Yeah." "Look, I'm really, really sorry, I don't know why..." I stammered. "It's OK," she interrupted, "I mean it's a little weird and all. I just want to know why. You don't wear them do you?" she asked, her voice strangely void of anger or disgust. I looked up into her hazel-brown eyes, for the first time noticing how strikingly beautiful they were. "No... I don't...I...uh..." I stuttered as I searched desperately for a less embarrassing explanation than the truth. Leaning toward me slightly, she lowered her voice to a whisper and finished the sentence that I couldn't. "You masturbate with them?" Once again I averted my eyes in shame from her intensely inquisitive gaze. "Yes," I finally admitted, as beads of sweat formed on my brow. "OK, well definitely a little strange...but why mine?" she responded in a light-hearted voice. I nervously avoided her gaze as I answered, "I dunno...I haven't been with a woman in a long time...and well, uh...you're...you're gorgeous." She laughed at my reply. "Oh...Well, OK, If you say so. So what... you're... fucking me while you play with my undies?" I had no choice but to nod embarrassingly in response to her question. "Well, I guess that's kind of flattering...in a weird way," she laughed. Neither of us spoke for several seconds. "OK, well, I gotta get going," she began, "Thank you for honest with me." She turned and began to walk away. She only took a few steps before she stopped and turned to me. "Can you do me a favor?" she asked with a smile. "Yeah, sure." "Can I get them back when you're done with them? Otherwise pretty soon I won't have any left, and then what are you gonna do?" I laughed nervously, "Yeah. I mean, of course." "OK...good," she replied as she bounced out the door. ******************************* Chapter Two All week long I looked forward to seeing her again, relieved that she didn't call the police, and rather turned on that she didn't seem to mind all that much. The days seemed to take forever to pass, and I must admit, my poor cock was sore from repeated jerk-off sessions. Her car was already there the following Sunday when I arrived a little later than usual at the Laundromat. When I walked in she was sitting down reading a magazine, something she had never done before. She looked up at me a smiled. "Hi there! I was beginning to think you were going to try to avoid me." I laughed shyly. "No, I just got hung up with other stuff," I replied, hoping I wouldn't have to admit that I snuck one last pud-pulling session with her thongs before I had to give them back. I only wished that they smelled more of her and less of fabric softener. "Good," she replied. "Well, you got something for me?" she asked, still smiling, not wasting any time exchanging small talk. "Uh, yeah...I should wash them for you first," I replied sheepishly. "They were clean when you took them out of the dryers. Do they really need it?" she pressed, apparently taking pleasure from my obvious discomfort. I groaned to myself. It was bad enough that she busted me taking them, then making me admit what I did with them, now she was going to make me admit that I had cum in them as well. I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I put my basket down, and took the lavender thong off the top of the pile. "Well, these are still pretty clean, but...um...I really should wash the others," I replied trying to avoid looking at her. "I see," she said as she took the thong from me with a strange smile on her face. I quickly went and began to throw my clothes into a washer, hoping to avoid any further interaction. Once that was done, I sat down a couple chairs away from her, knowing that in doing so I could be opening myself up to further humiliation, and grabbed a magazine. Neither of us said a word for several minutes. I tried a few sideways glances at her, hoping she wouldn't notice. I knew she had more in store for me when I saw that she still had this same strange smile on her face, like a cat who knew she had the mouse hopelessly cornered. I knew I was not going to enjoy whatever she decided to do. Finally she spoke. "So...what exactly do you do with them? I mean obviously you cum in them, since they need to be washed, but you could just use a tissue for that. So why do you need my underwear?" I groaned. This girl was just having way too much fun with this. I almost wished she had just called the cops. I knew she wasn't going to let me off the hook, no matter how hard I tried to sidestep the whole thing. Finally I took a deep breath and answered her. "Well, they're yours, and uh...they're soft, and..." I grimaced as I let the rest slip softly from my lips, "they smell nice." "There, I said it, can we just drop it now?" my brain screamed. "Oh, so you like my fabric softener?" she teased. "It's OK, I guess," I responded, my voice reflecting my irritation a bit more than I had planned. "Mm-hmmm..." she replied before falling silent. For several minutes we sat there without speaking, and I prayed that she would leave me alone to suffer my humiliation in solitude. When her washer finished it's cycle she got up, moved everything into a dryer, and returned to her seat. I never once looked up, fearful of giving her any invitation to ridicule me once again. The minutes passed interminably slowly. I practically jumped from my chair when my washer finished. I swapped my clothes into a dryer about as slowly as humanly possible, but I still had no choice than to sit down and take my chances with her yet again. As I returned to my seat I could have swore I saw her shaking slightly, like she was trying to stifle laughter. I wondered what more could she possibly do to me as I sat down and buried my face between the pages of the magazine I was having little luck trying to read. It was only then that I noticed that I had been leafing through the pages of Cosmo and hadn't even noticed. "What the fuck!" I thought to myself. I put the magazine back and tried to find something a bit more masculine. The options were few and I ended up having to settle for a three month old copy of People. After several minutes of silence, I was starting to relax and think that maybe she had finally gotten her kicks at my expense and was going to leave me alone. No such luck. Out of nowhere she said cheerfully, "By the way...I'm Karen. If you're gonna steal a girl's underwear you should at least know her name, don't you think?" I couldn't help but burst out laughing. She was having way too much fun busting my balls, but I couldn't help but find her statement humorous. I tried for several moments to come up with a witty response, but couldn't. She put her magazine down, turned to me and asked playfully, "And the pervert's name is?" I looked her in the eyes and we both lost it, laughing like a couple of kids. Once I regained control I replied, "I'm Dan." She extended her hand to me. "Well, Dan the panty thief, nice to meet you." I took her hand in mine, shaking my head and chuckling at her reference to me, and replied, "Same here." We proceeded to chat idly about the weather and actually ended up having a relatively normal conversation before we noticed that both our dryers were done. We continued to make some innocent small talk as we folded our clothes. I handed her back the other two pairs of underwear that I had of hers, a thong and a pair of pink bikinis, and mumbled an apology. She took them and thanked me. Her next statement, however, caught me completely off guard. "Listen," she said, "you seem like a pretty sweet guy, aside from your bizarre laundry habit." She paused for a moment, apparently searching for the right words, before continuing, "And I know it must have been embarrassing enough without me teasing you like I did...even though you know you deserved every bit of it, right?" There was nothing I could do but nod in agreement. "OK, and since you were honest and didn't try to deny it..." she paused and looked down as if embarrassed, "..and, I hate to say it, but it does kind of turn me on knowing you find my panties so exciting that you had to take them...so I'm not gonna leave you empty handed." She looked up long enough to see my surprised expression, then quickly looked away, fidgeting nervously. "So..." she went on, "You can pick any pair you want out of my basket." "Really?" I asked eagerly. "Yeah, really," she replied looking me right in the eye, a nervous smile on her face. "I was even going to give you another pair to pick from, but...." she said, before drifting off. "But what?" I asked, my curiosity rising. "Nothing," she replied, looking away at the clothes she was folding. After what she put me through, I thought it was only fair to get a little good-natured payback. "Oh, no, no," I said, laughing. "You're not getting off that easy. You wouldn't let me off the hook." She looked at me and groaned at the point I made. We stared into each other's eyes unblinkingly for several seconds before she decided that she may as well 'fess up, that I probably wasn't going to drop it. Her beautiful eyes darted about anxiously as she prepared her answer. "Well..." she began, her hands fidgeting rather than folding clothes, "I thought maybe you might like something a little lighter on the fabric softener." "Yeah..." I urged. Rolling her eyes, she turned away from me and, looking back over her shoulder, hooked her thumb in the waistband of a black, satin g-string she was wearing, and held it out over the waist of her jeans. "These. I just put them on before coming here," she said in exhasperation. I just stood there for a while, stunned. All I could muster after regaining my composure was, "Seriously?" "Yeah, seriously," she replied, feigning annoyance. Shocked. Stunned. Incredulous. I was all of those, but I was still aware that I would probably never, ever get an offer like this again, so I wasted no time responding. "I'll take those then!" I said with a broad smile, pointing to her waist. "No...you can't," she protested mildly. "Why not?" I asked. "You said you were going to let me pick those if I wanted." "That was before," she stated evenly. "Before what?" "Just...before!" "Uh-Uh, c'mon, before what?" I pressed. Throwing a pair of socks she had been mangling onto the table, she turned to me, looking surprisingly vulnerable, even embarrassed. "Before I spent the past hour and a half dripping into them!" she cried, turning away to avoid my eyes. "Damn, all I can think about is what you look like when you're alone with them, and..." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. She nervously brushed her hair from her face as she looked down. "Oh God, I'm a sick puppy," she mumbled with an uncomfortable laugh. "Hah!" I began, feeling amusingly superior at the moment, "I'm worse then, 'cuz if they're wet, they're the ones I want." "No," she replied meekly. "Listen," I said in mock anger, "I hate your fabric softener, I want those." She studied me for a moment, and began to laugh. Noticing that I wasn't laughing, she asked if I was serious. "Absolutely!" I replied. She looked at me with her head tilted slightly to the side as if trying to figure out if I was playing or not. After a minute or so, she made a couple false starts toward the restroom, then, looked back at me. She started to smile and blush as though I had paid her an incredible compliment. "I want them back," she said as she turned and walked to the ladies room. My cock began to swell as I checked out her ass as she walked. A couple minutes later she came out and strode quickly to my table with her head down. She was looking at the floor but I think she may have also noticed the slight bulge in my jeans from under the table. She reached out a clenched fist to me, depositing a neatly rolled pair of satin undies in my hand. "I guess you really did want these," she smirked as she glanced down at my restrained cock. "Just do me a favor," she said, "Wait 'til I leave before you start checking them out." With that she threw the rest of her clothes, folded or not, into her basket. She picked it up and paused briefly. She then shocked me again by leaning over quickly and kissing me on the cheek and whispering, "Have fun!" in my ear. I rubbed myself through my jeans as I watched her long legs and cute little bottom walk out, get in her car, and leave. ******************************************** Chapter Three For the entire week I barely managed to think about anything other than her and her black g-string. When my cock wasn't too sore from overuse, I held them to my face and masturbated as I fantasized about making love to her. Other times, I'd take them out of my drawer just to hold them to my face, losing myself in her heavenly scent, which had begun to fade as the days passed, but was still unmistakable. Busted! Ch. 01-03 Sunday finally arrived and I had jitters all day, eagerly looking forward to seeing her again. At this point there wasn't much she could do to embarrass me any more than she already had, so I wasn't worried about that, and her attitude about this whole thing just intrigued the hell out of me. It was certainly not the reaction I would have expected. I was somewhat disappointed when I pulled in and didn't see her car, but not overly concerned. When I got inside, however, and noticed that all the machines were empty, my heart sank. I glumly started my load of laundry and grabbed a seat. My gloom turned to giddiness about 20 minutes later when I saw her pull in. She walked in, looking pretty flustered and dropping her basket on the floor. "Hi, how are.." I started to say. "Hang on!" she implored, "I gotta pee. Be right back!" With that, she practically ran to the bathroom. I noticed that instead of her customary jeans, today she wore a jean skirt, cut a couple inches above the knee. It showed off her legs nicely, but I thought her ass looked better in the jeans. It didn't much matter though, she was here, and I felt like a schoolboy with his first crush. I watched the door close behind her and stole a quick glance at her laundry basket. There were several pairs of thongs, and bikini's right on top. I liked her taste in undergarments, nothing too frilly or lacey, but very colorful and down-to-earth sexy. I wasn't going to be able to fight the urge for a closer look, so I didn't bother trying. I looked quickly back toward the restroom as I got up and walked around the table. Satisfied that I had minute or so before she returned, I squatted down and ran my hand over them. They felt so soft and sexy. I picked up a pair of tiny, teal bikinis and held them to my face, inhaling deeply. Her sweet, musky scent was intoxicating. I closed my eyes, and drifted away briefly. "See anything you like?" Startled, I jumped, still clutching her underwear, and saw her standing there beside me, her face lit up with a big grin. I hadn't even heard her approach. Embarrassed, I quickly dropped the panties back into her basket. "Actually...yes," I replied, smiling shyly, as I casually looked her over from head to toe. My eyes paused briefly on her white cotton tank top. It wasn't really form-fitting, but was certainly a bit tighter than what she normally wore, and her nipples were clearly evident as they pushed against the fabric. Blushing, she responded, "Oh, and here I thought you only liked my undies." "No, not just them," I replied. I watched as she grabbed her clothes and put them in the washer. I returned to my seat and grabbed a magazine to pretend to read. When she had finished she took the seat right next to mine. My heart skipped a beat. She was close enough that I could smell the shampoo she had used on her hair, and I could almost feel the heat of her body. My cock began to swell as I thought about how much I wanted to ravish her right there on the spot. For a minute or two she leafed quickly though a magazine she had picked up, obviously not reading it. Finally she threw it back in the rack and turned to me, crossing her lovely legs, and placing her elbow on the back of her chair, resting her head in her hand. "So-o..." she began, "Did you enjoy my wet, nasty g-string?" "Hell yeah!" I replied, enthusiastically. "What is so damned fascinating about them? I mean seriously, what is it about my panties that gets you off so much?" she asked inquisitively. "I don't know," I replied bashfully, "They're yours...and all I can think of is how badly I want to..." I didn't finish the sentence. I mean, you can't just blurt out to a woman that you want to fuck her so badly you can taste it. That would usually be enough to get a good slap in the face, or worse. "How badly you want to what, sleep with me?" she asked. Our eyes met and I hesitantly admitted that I wanted her. "Why?" she asked, "What's so special about me that you have to jerk off with my underwear?" "C'mon, you're beautiful. I mean...you're about the sexiest woman I've ever met," I said truthfully. She laughed. "I think you need your eyes checked!" she said. I replied that I was serious. "Yeah, right!" she laughed, "I'm too tall, I'm skinny, I got no boobs...." "Are you kidding?!" I asked incredulously. "You have great legs, a really nice butt, you're very pretty. God, you've got the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen... and I happen to like your boobs!" I said, looking down at her chest. She blushed and smiled awkwardly. "You are definitely a strange one," she said, "Strange but sweet." We stared into each other's eyes without saying a word for several minutes. I fought to control the urge to lean forward and kiss her. In the end I said the hell with it and tentatively leaned forward, my eyes never leaving hers. I half expected her to pull away, but instead she leaned toward me, and our lips met. Lightly at first, almost nervously, we kissed, the sensation sending jolts of electricity through me, and blood rushing into my cock. I placed my hand behind her head feeling her soft hair caress my fingers. I held her gently and parted her lips with my tongue. She sighed softly and caressed my tongue with hers. While soft and tender at first, the kiss became more passionate, and soon we were both panting and moaning with desire. Time lost all meaning, and the seconds soon turned into minutes, neither of us wanting to be the one to break the embrace. Too soon though, we were brought back to earth by the sound of her washer shutting off. There was only silence now outside of the sound of our heavy breathing. Reluctantly our lips parted and we looked into each other's eyes. She was the first to speak. "We should ummm..." she said, pointing to the washers. "Yeah, we should," I agreed breathlessly, pulling her to me once again. At some point, though I barely remember how, we managed to regain our composure long enough to put our clothes in the dryer. I do remember pinning her against the stack of dryers, my arm around her waist, hers around my shoulders, our bodies pressed tightly together, our tongues dancing seductively with one another. I remember brushing my free hand up over her hip, across the soft curve of her slender waist, and coming to rest cupped around her soft breast. A stifled moan escaped her lips as I brushed my thumb lightly across her large, firm nipple as it pressed defiantly against the fabric covering it. Incredibly, it seemed to swell even more under my touch until it was nearly as long as my thumb was wide. She responded by rubbing her thigh against the large bulge in my jeans. It was my turn to moan. Once again it took the sound of our machines shutting down to break our passionate embrace. We looked deep into each other's eyes, Karen biting her lower lip and looking so innocent that my heart just melted. Without speaking we each began emptying our dryers and folding our clothes, still shaking from desire and nervous energy. When I came to her satin g-string, I gave it back to her, hoping to be offered another pair in return, but she merely took them and continued what she was doing. I puzzled over her lack of a response for a couple minutes, wondering if she was regretting what had transpired over the past hour or so. Finally, she broke the uncomfortable silence. "If you want the ones I'm wearing, you'll have to get them yourself," she said quietly. I stood in stunned silence for several seconds as the reality of what she said sank in. My cock throbbed painfully, desperately wanting to be free of the denim confining it. I placed my hand on her arm and gently spun her around, leaning her back against the table. Looking into her eyes, I slowly began lifting her skirt up to her waist. As I did so she caught her breath and bit her lower lip. I slowly squatted down until my face was only inches from her pussy. My eyes never left hers as I slipped my hands under her hiked up skirt, inside the waistband of her thong, and down over her round bottom. Her eyes grew wide and she inhaled sharply as my hot hands caressed and squeezed her firm, taut butt. With my finger I gently eased the soft fabric of her thong out of it's warm home nestled deep between her round cheeks. I traced my hands along the inside of the waistband, around her soft thighs until they came together above her pussy. Her skirt had fallen down around my arms so I couldn't have seen her sexy thighs or panties even if I were able to pry my eyes away from hers. I could feel the soft curls of an apparent landing strip on the backside of my index fingers. Her beautiful eyes had become glassy with desire from having my hands less than a heartbeat away from her most sensitive of spots. She placed her hands on the edge of the table to steady herself. I could feel her legs begin to tremble slightly, and the gentle rise and fall of her small breasts told me her breathing was becoming more rapid and shallow. She sucked in her breath as I gently pushed down and felt the waist of her thong slide off her hips and down onto her thighs. I allowed her thong to slip from my grasp and caressed the outside of her soft thighs. Her expression was one of desperation, begging me with her eyes to touch her where she most needed it. I reached around with my left hand a carefully massaged her ass. I reached my right hand between her legs and gently rubbed her pussy through the damp crotch of her thong while she closed her eyes and allowed a brief shiver to course through her body. Her pussy felt like a moist furnace as I rubbed it tenderly. I could feel the soft bulge of her swollen labia and my cock twitched, smearing a large drop of pre-cum on my thigh. I wondered if there was anything about this woman that wasn't perfect. I slid her panties down to her knees and cupped her pussy in my hand, my palm instantly slick with her juices. "Oh my God," she murmured, her eyes clenched shut. I slid my hand back, letting her large lips hang between my fingers. I squeezed them together slightly, trapping her velvety soft petals between them, and rubbed her in small circular motions. I let her enjoy the sensations for a minute or so, before turning my attention back to removing her panties. Her eyes opened and she watched as I slid them down past her knees. I reached behind one knee and lifted her leg allowing them to slip off her foot. I did the same with the other leg, then, still looking up at her, I rolled them up and pushed them into my pocket. I stood slowly until we were face to face, reached behind her, drawing her to me, and kissed her deeply. "I want you!" I whispered hoarsely after breaking our embrace. "You have no idea," she said, sucking my lower lip briefly. "Soon," she promised, "but right now I gotta run." "Oh no, already?" I pouted in exaggerated disappointment. "Yeah, I need to pick up some batteries before the stores close," she said as she scooped the rest of her clothes into her laundry basket. She turned to me smiling, and said, "My poor vibrator's gonna be working overtime tonight!" She leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips. "Have fun!" she said cheerfully, patting the pocket that contained her undies. She brushed her hand lightly across the bulge of my swollen cock, picked up her laundry and was gone.