1 comments/ 21683 views/ 1 favorites Dry Cleaning By: Middleagepoet   Here I go, once again stuck running errands, "Run to the drug store for me, and can you cash a check? Oh, and by the way, I need you to pick up the cleaning. Here's the ticket, it's already paid for and if they try and charge you extra for stains, tell them I had them check it for stains..." Her voice kind of faded after that Yeah, I was listening but damn, I got what I needed, 1.) drug store, 2.) bank to cash a check and 3.) cleaners. She continued on for what seemed like fifteen minutes or so and I kind of listened, at least enough to know that I had three stops to make. Anyway, I finally got out of there and started the roundabout trip, first to the drug store where I dropped off a couple of prescriptions that needed filling, then I headed to the bank, where I pulled into the drive through to cash a check. When I finally got the money back from the bank teller, and confirmed I didn't need anything else, thank you, I closed my window and pulled out heading for the cleaners. Glancing at my watch I saw it was three thirty, "Damn, wasting half my day to do her errands," I moaned, trying not to remind myself that I had absolutely nothing else to do, so I might as well have run the errands. "Face if Dave, your life is over," I mumbled to myself. I'm not too far off from being that old guy who follows his wife around in the stores and the mall carrying her purse for her. Each time when my wife sees that and says, "Awww, isn't that so sweet." I long to wail out, "You poor son of a bitch." "Yeah, that will be me in a few years," I mumbled as I pulled up to the cleaners. There was simply no part of my life I could call my own anymore. I grabbed the claim ticket, climbed out of my car and walked up to the door. I didn't see anyone inside, but pushed on the door anyway. It was locked. Glancing at the sign I saw it should have been open, at least until five o'clock. I pulled on the door, then pushed on it and, well, it was locked. Wondering what four kinds of hell I'll catch for not picking up the clothes on time (like I was supposed to know they were closing early and run this particular errand first, even though it was number three on my list). Okay, okay, I made myself focus. Thinking perhaps someone was in the back who might be able to open up long enough to pick up the cleaning, I peeked through the glass looking into the back half of the cleaners. All I could see was a bunch of equipment and a few empty aisles, I moved a bit further down the wall and looked in again, seeing basically the same thing, until, wait a minute, yeah, there, an open door and what? I stood still, looking harder and realized I was actually looked at the fitting room door, or actually a mirror hanging from the fitting room door and in that mirror I saw two women. I was about to bang on the window to get their attention when I noticed these women were naked. Yes, two naked women were facing each other. I quickly pinched myself and looked harder. One woman was tall, with long blond hair, large breasts and wide curvy hips. Her pubic hair was very light, almost invisible from where I was. The shorter woman was Hispanic with small breasts and dark nipples that seemed huge. Her hair was short and curly, as was her pubic hair. I watched as the tall woman pulled up a chair, placed one leg on it and then pushed the shorter one onto her knees. Her head moved between the woman's and began to move slowly up and down. As she continued, I could see the tall woman's hands running through her black hair as she pulled the woman against her. Then she began moving her hips back and forth as she ground herself the smaller woman, her face contorting in pleasure. I could see as she suddenly relaxed, in obvious ecstasy. I remained glued to the window figuring she would reciprocate, but instead she immediately started getting dressed. The short Hispanic woman moved back a bit to where I couldn't see her, but after a while I saw the tall woman gesture in a direction behind her. The short woman, now dressed slowly began walking. Their reflection in the mirror disappeared, but then I could see them moving between the machinery to a small door in the back. The tall woman opened the door and pushed the shorter one through it. The door closed and I waited, wondering if they might come back in. I heard a door slam from somewhere behind the building, so I walked to the edge of the building to take a look. A small pickup truck with a camper back drove by. The tall blonde woman was driving and through the windows in the back I could see five or six people. As the truck pulled out onto the street, it turned right and headed off. All I could do was take the cleaning ticket back to my car and head on home.   Dry Cleaning She looked bored when I first saw her, standing outside her shop, smoking a cigarette. It was the Saturday morning of an August bank holiday and unusually peaceful outside, with little traffic and, from what I could see, few passers-by. No doubt she was taking advantage of her lack of customers for a quiet moment to herself. My house overlooked her shop and the handful of others in the little arcade in my street. They were the usual things: a newsagent / grocery store, a take-away, a betting shop, a pub and this, the dry cleaners. It had opened some five years earlier, much to my delight, for it could not have been more convenient. Over the years I had watched staff come and go with idle curiosity. Now there was Pam, according to the name-badge on her company shirt -- a rather sterile-looking navy blue with white details, which made her look as if she should be working in a dentists' surgery. She was in her mid-thirties and, although no knockout she was certainly pleasing to the eye: shoulder-length brown hair, soft and curved with generous breasts and a splendid habit of leaving undone one more button on her shirt than strict modesty would advise. Whenever I went into drop off some clothes, I always made sure to find some reason for her to take down a note or two, and I always looked. I think she knew; she certainly guessed and it was clear that she didn't mind in the least. Pam had a flirty way about her: a knowing smile and a naughty twinkle in her eye that suggested to me that she knew exactly what she was doing. For the past six or nine months, then, we had maintained this low level, occasional, tacit agreement to tease and be teased, and to enjoy the impure thoughts that resulted. The dry cleaner's always opened early so it must have been only around 8.30 am when I saw her taking her break outside. I had been out the night before with friends, celebrating the bank holiday. We had had quite a few drinks so, on my return home, I had stripped off completely to try and catch some sleep despite the heat and humidity that a British summer can occasionally provide, and had fallen fast asleep. That Saturday morning I had woken up with a slight headache and a major case of the hangover horn. My cock was protesting at the lack of attention it had received recently due to pressure of work and was standing proud, demanding relief. I ignored it, loosely threw on my thin summer dressing gown -- a rather fetching thigh-length emerald green silk number that I had picked up on a business trip to Hong Kong some years previously -- and went to put on some coffee, grab some orange juice and think about breakfast. I planned to indulge in a lengthy, luxurious stroking session later; my cock could wait for that. My bedroom was on the third floor of my house. Its window was one of my favourite features: long patio doors that opened onto a tiny balcony, its tiled flooring barely large enough for a kitchen chair and table, but sufficient for me to step outside, breathe fresh (London) air and, in my head at least, announce my arrival into the world that morning. I opened the window/doors and took a step outside to look around and enjoy the sunshine. Then I saw Pam, lost in her thoughts, taking the occasional puff of her cigarette. I watched her for a few more minutes: those really were superb breasts, I thought to myself, and there was an argument to be made that they required a slightly larger shirt. The uniform details, particularly the pocket, had the presumably unintended but nonetheless splendid effect of accentuating her chest. From this slight angle, I tried unsuccessfully to see if I could see down the top. I failed but that became irrelevant because it was then that Pam noticed me. Looking up, she nodded her head and smiled brightly. Remembering how little I was wearing, and fully conscious that my morning wood remained insistent, I tugged the gown together slightly. She frowned and gave me a look of disappointment. I shrugged, raised an eyebrow and pointed to me. She gave an exasperated look -- duh! -- and nodded. I hemmed and hawed a little, my head moving from side to side, but did nothing. She turned to go back into her shop, or so I thought, and briefly cursed myself for my lack of courage. With her back to me, she paused for a few seconds. I admired her arse (highly spankable) and then she turned back towards me, raised an eyebrow and smiled again. If I was not mistaken, two more buttons were now unfastened on her shirt, enabling me to see the smallest hint of black and pink bra underneath. Then she nodded to me, 'your turn'. I took one step back into my bedroom, to make myself that little bit less conspicuous to the casual observer. I slowly began unfastening my gown, my cock growing with each second. For a while she could not have seen much -- a tenting, perhaps, then a shadow -- but after what felt like an age, my gown was fully open and my turgid member sprang free into the sunlight. Pam's grin at seeing me like this could have restored terminally sick patients to full health. I shrugged off the gown completely and stood before her, my hard prick twitching at her attention. Very casually her right hand closed and she began to move it up and down a few times in the internationally recognised signal for wanking. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Here? Now? She nodded firmly and mouthed 'Go on.' By now I was aroused beyond all reason, so shrugged aside the potential risk and, spitting on my hand for lubrication, reached down and took hold of myself. She stared at me intensely. I began stroking, slowly at first and then with greater speed and vigour. My excitement was multiplied a hundredfold by the slight danger but, most of all, by having Pam watch me and push me on. As she continued watching, I stroked faster and faster, my body thrusting forward and my arm jerking back and forth with increasing vigour. I could feel that familiar sensation; I knew I was close and so raised my other hand, fingers spread. One by one I brought a finger down. Five. Four. Three. At two, Pam opened her mouth in my direction, extending her tongue greedily. It was just too much and I came immediately, grunting as my seed exploded onto the balcony tiles. Smiling broadly, Pam licked her lips lasciviously and gave me a small round of applause. After a small, final wave goodbye, she stepped back into the shop. And there everything could have finished, except I was still horny, on a sunny summer's day with little else to do. So a couple of hours later, my breakfast eaten and the papers read (all done while idly caressing my re-stiffening prick), I flicked through my wardrobe. Finding a suit that could conceivably require a clean and press, I finally dressed myself, going commando in just an old white linen shirt and a baggy pair of khaki shorts. Any cockwatcher nearby would tell you that I was tumescent, at least, but the tent was partly hidden by my shirt-tails, the trip across to the dry cleaners' was short and few people were around. Walking into the shop, I found Pam serving another customer and so patiently waited my turn. Eventually we were alone. I moved forward to the counter and opened my mouth, about to speak, when Pam gave me a look of warning and nodded her head backwards. My attention diverted momentarily from my erection and Pam's breasts, I noticed the sound of somebody working away in the back of the shop and, looking at Pam, grimaced in annoyance. "Could you clean and press this suit, please?" "Of course. Any particular areas requiring attention, sir?" "Well, the trousers, of course. They always seem to get dirtier than the jacket." I smiled. She smiled back. "That's very common, sir. Happens to us all." Patting the suit down, she ran her hand briefly over the crotch and looked at me, then my shorts. My erection was obvious. Licking her lips again, she placed the suit on a pile of other clothes and went to her computer. "It's Mr..." "Grant", I said. "J. Grant." Pam typed in the words and I saw my name and contact details appear on screen. "It'll take a little longer than usual. Y'know, the Bank Holiday. Wednesday alright for you, Mr Grant? Just bring along the ticket, whether you collect it or..." She looked at me enquiringly. "Nobody else to collect it but me", I said. "Wednesday is perfect, um..." and here I stared at her breasts hard while pretending to look at her name-badge, "... Pam." "Super. Enjoy the rest of your weekend now." "I will, Pam, certainly now." Much of that day disappeared in a haze of reading and idle masturbation to a variety of online resources, my mind returning periodically to that morning and to Pam and propelling me to a second and then a third superb orgasm. Later, much later, I had finished watching a film on TV, had drunk a few glasses of wine and had tried to catch a breeze in the stultifying humidity. Turning to my window, I watched people walk past below, to or from somewhere, chatting to themselves. It was about 11.30pm and I was considering goin into bed when my mobile phone bleeped. The message gave no name or number, and simply read: "Mr Grant, your suit will now be ready for collection on Tuesday afternoon. Please confirm receipt of this message." My mind raced with possibilities but, given the risk that it was no more than a new automated service with typically dismal sense of timing, I typed back a brief but anodyne message of thanks. About half an hour later, in bed stroking out the day's final, sleep-inducing orgasm, my phone bleeped again. This time there was a photograph. It showed a woman, lying on her back, on a bed. The picture had clearly been taken by the woman in the photograph, from the head down, so was completely anonymous. That did not really interest me. What did was the body. It was naked, except for a pair of powder blue panties, pulled down to mid-thigh. In one corner of the picture was a breast, its nipple engorged with arousal. Below that was a body, slightly plump, glowing a little with perspiration. It led to a bush, trimmed closely into a neat landing strip. This was thrust lustily into the air, legs spread and knees bent, stretching the blue panties to breaking point. And there, hovering just under the bush was the photographer's hand, two fingers plunged deep inside her quim with a wet, glistening thumb strumming her clit. Looking up from the hand for a moment, I noticed the arm. It was clad in a sleeve -- a navy blue sleeve finished, I could just see, with some white trimming. Beneath the picture was a simple, short message: "By way of thanks." This confirmation, combined with the unveiling of a body that had been the subject of so much speculation over so many months, caused me to explode, instantly and violently. Powerful jets of cum shot over my chest, hitting my chin. I exhaled in wonder and relief. A few seconds later, taking hold of my phone with my clean hand, I took a picture of my sticky, sated prick, cum dripping onto my body from its head, typed "Thank YOU!" and pressed send. Nothing more happened that night or, indeed, that weekend. So on Tuesday afternoon I went to collect my suit. Once again Pam was at the counter, with her colleague in the back. The naughtiness of her smile made me hard yet again. Then the bell rang and a woman came in, waiting her turn behind me. Pam took my ticket and came back with my suit. "Everything alright?" I asked. "Yes, Mr Grant. Except for one thing. You left something in one of the pockets. A handkerchief." Noting my surprise, she continued quickly: "It's alright, we spotted it in time." She paused. "We didn't wash it. Now it's back where we found it." Handkerchiefs come in useful to clean my glasses and, unasked, I receive a regular supply as birthday presents from my aunt, so I thought nothing of it. Back in my bedroom I took off the cellophane wrapping and removed the dry cleaning labels, then remembered the handkerchief. A brief rummage found the right pocket. I pulled out some material. No handkerchief, but a pair of powder blue panties. On the front, written in felt tip, were the words 'Enough now' and a smiley. Underneath, in red lipstick, was the mark of two lips that could only have come from a prolonged kiss. Elsewhere on the panties was a hint of a stain. I lifted them up to smell, and smiled. Pam was right: she had not washed them. Once more, for the final time, her actions prompted me to remove my clothes; my work that afternoon would have to wait. Dry Cleaning Sex I had to drop off some clothes that needed dry cleaned. There is a place not too far from where I work so I went there. I pulled up and went inside and I got a pleasant surprise. There was Cindy, a girl that I went to high school with. "Nick, I haven't seen you in ages," she said to me. Cindy was this hot brunette in high school. Unfortunately, we ran in different circles so I never went out with her. I handed her my clothes. She told me to come back behind the counter with her. I didn't know what she wanted to show me. It was late and there weren't any customers other than me. She led me to the back of the store. When we got there she turned around and put her arms around my neck. All of a sudden we were kissing each other. "I always wanted to go out with you in school," she said to me. Before you knew it we were groping each other. I had a hand on one of her breasts, the other hand was down on her crotch. I rubbed the outside of her pants as Cindy moved her hips against my fingers. This didn't last very long. The bell rang that said someone entered the sore. Cindy had to compose herself and see what this person wanted. When she came back she said we should get together sometime. Cindy quickly wrote down her phone number and address for me. I only wished we could have continued our brief fun. The next evening I was thinking about Cindy and decided to call her. When she answered I could hear a voice in the background. "Oh hey, how are you doing?" She said to me. I said I was calling to see if she wanted to get together sometime soon. "Yeah, we can do that. How about if I get back to you?" She replied. I could swear I heard a man's voice. I got the impression that she might be having sex and I interrupting something. I forgot about hooking up with Cindy. Why would she even want to see me if she was fucking some other guy? I put it all out of my mind when a couple days later Cindy called. She wanted to see me. I told her I heard another man when I called. She sheepishly told me that was her old boyfriend. He just happened to stop by. I said it sounded like more than a friendly visit by the old boyfriend. She said not to worry. He was in the past. I got a bad feeling in my gut but I took Cindy up on her offer. I would stop by on Friday night and we would go out. I arrived at the proper time. Cindy wasn't even dressed to go out. She had a t-shirt and shorts on. Once again she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with her tongue this time. I figured we wouldn't be eating out tonight. It started all over again. We were stripping each other out of our clothes. I finally got to see those ripe tits of hers. They were the size of grapefruits and her pussy was shaved clean. My cock was twitching, just wanting to get at Cindy. She led me back to her bed and she pushed me onto my back. Cindy climbed on top of me. She began to rub her pussy lips up and down my shaft. It didn't take long before I was hard as a baseball bat. Cindy lifted up and she slowly lowered herself onto my dick. "I always wanted you in high school," she told me. I guess I was stupid for never making a play at Cindy. We got into a fucking rhythm. I would shove my cock up into her belly as Cindy lowered her wet pussy onto my staff. I had to touch those tits. I reached up and cupped each one in a hand. I milked each one as Cindy rode my prick. "You're so fucking big Nick!" Cindy screamed out loud. "Give it to me hard." I drove my rod in the whole way. Our pubic bones touched each time Cindy dropped down onto my cock. I fucked her like it was the first time I ever had a woman. We went at it for close to a half hour I imagine. Cindy started to cry out. She was having her orgasms. "Don't think about pulling out. I want you to cum in me," she said. That was okay by me. I kept slamming my hard meat into her belly. It wasn't that long until I felt myself ready to blow. I slid into Cindy's tunnel and then I squirted my cream into her pussy. Cindy's body started to thrash about. Her head went back and she let out this loud moan. This got me worked up even more. I fired one rope after another into her tummy. Thankfully I had a large load stored up. I took my hands from her tits and I placed them on her hips. I was holding Cindy down onto my dick. It must have taken fifteen minutes before Cindy got herself calmed down some. Once she did calm down she lifted herself up and ran into the bathroom. When she returned she was in a bathrobe. "That was fantastic! We'll have to do it again sometime." Just like that we were finished. Nothing more for that night. I got my clothes on and Cindy walked me to the door. She kissed me and I was on my way. Fantastic sex and then shown to the door. I was pissed. I got in my car and I sat there for awhile. Sure enough I saw a car pull up and some man walks up to Cindy's door. He rings the bell and she answers the door and lets him in. Damn, She was going to fuck two different guys that night. I couldn't believe it. Needless to say I didn't call her to rearrange another meeting. Three days passed and I got a call from Cindy. "Why haven't you called me?" She asked. "Maybe it's because you got rid of me so you could have your other lover later that night," I told her. The other end of the phone got quiet. "What are you talking about?" I told her I sat out in the parking lot. I saw her other lover come to the door and I saw her kissing him. "You weren't supposed to see that," she told me. She quickly said that her boyfriend and her were going through a rough patch. She didn't know if they would stay together or not. I said I really didn't want to hear her lame excuses and I hung up on her. I was really mad on how things ended. Cindy was one hell of a fuck. I could get used to that on a regular basis. The only pisser was I still had to pick up my clothing. I hoped Cindy wouldn't be there when I arrived but no such luck. I gave her my ticket and Cindy came with my clothes. "I guess it wouldn't help if I said I was sorry," she told me. I said I really couldn't trust her. I am not the type who is going to share. Just like that I was out the door. I thought I might weaken and tell her everything was okay by me. Maybe a week went by and then my phone rang. I should have seen who it was first but I answered. You guessed it. It was Cindy. She want to apologize once more. She said the old boyfriend was now out of the picture for good. We could still see each other if I wanted. I surprised myself. I said I would need some time to think about things. I would get back to her if I wanted to continue with her. The thing was, I was so horny right then. I wanted to go over and fuck Cindy hard. I took a chance and drove over to her apartment. The boyfriend's car wasn't there. I rang the doorbell and Cindy answered. "I'm going to trust you this one more time," I said. It took us all of thirty seconds to get back to her bed. We were soon naked and I had Cindy get on all fours. I pulled her ass up and then I fitted my mushroom to her gash. I drove into her hard and fast. Oh yes, she screamed as I was going to punish her for fucking around with me. My hands went to her waist and I pounded Cindy like she was some cheap slut. This thing was, Cindy loved it all. She begged me to use her as hard as I could. I leaned over her back and I found each of those beautiful tits. I squeezed each one as I pushed my piston into her greedy hole. I took Cindy much longer than our first time together. "You're mine now!" I practically screamed at her. Whether I believe it or not, Cindy said she wanted to be mine completely. She just pleaded with me not to pull out. I was just supposed to keep fucking her. That is exactly what I did. We did switch positions. Cindy got on her back. I took hold of her legs and brought them onto my shoulders. I straighten out and pushed in as deep as I could. Cindy cried out and begged for my cock. She said she never felt anything like it before. I didn't know what to think but I was going to make sure she got the fucking of a lifetime from me. Cindy's pussy was clutching my cock tightly. She told me she needed my love batter in her tummy. I gave her what she needed. My cum came pouring from the tip of my dick. I shot wads of hot seed deep inside her body. It took a long time for us to get calmed down. There was no running to the bathroom and then ushering me out the door. I stayed the night and in the morning I took Cindy again. I am cautiously hoping this will work out for me. I do know if I catch Cindy going back to the old lover this will be it for me. I just plan on giving her cock for as long as the good times last.