3 comments/ 97622 views/ 4 favorites Laundromat By: Decayed Angel When I pulled into the Laundromat, in the late afternoon on Saturday, I had hoped most of the people would be gone and I wouldn't have to wait for a machine. I rarely come to the Laundromat, since I have a perfectly good washer and dryer, but today I was washing the bathroom carpeting and mats, which tend to stop up my plumbing when I wash them at home. Stepping out of my car, I reached back in and grabbed the carpet, a container of washing powder and a book and then walked to the door, noting that only a few people were here. The attendant was getting ready to leave, locking up his booth and offices, so only the all night portion of the Laundromat was assessable to the customers. I had enough change and washing powder, so I didn't try to disturb him as he headed out to his vehicle and pulled away. A Hispanic couple, with three or four kids headed out of the door with all their clothes, so the only people left was another lady on the other side of the washers and me. I quickly moved over to one of the extra large washers and rolled the carpet and mats into the machine and slammed the door closed. I then plunked in ten quarters, confirmed the machine was starting and poured the washing powder into the detergent compartment. Grabbing my book I headed to some of the beat up plastic chairs that wrapped around the perimeter of the room. Before opening my book, I glanced around noticing that the place had changed a bit since the last time I came to wash the carpeting. There were probably a dozen more of the high capacity washers and some brand new dryers and only a few of the beat up old residential type washers. The ceiling was still a mess with several tiles missing and many more stained and spotted with mold. Wait a minute, yes, the room had been expanded some. Off to one side, where there used to be a line of dryers, was an opening with a sign that said folding room. The best I could see, they added that whole room and put in some sorting and folding tables. "That's their new folding area," I heard a woman say. Looking down a row of washers, I noticed it was the woman I had seen when I first stepped into the room. "Excuse me," I replied focusing my attention on her. She was not very tall but had some beautiful long legs that ran all the way up to a pair of white shorts. A large red blouse protruded outward from above the shorts covering a pregnant belly and some luscious looking breasts. "The owners put in a new folding area and then bumped the price for all the machines fifty cents," she said. "I see," I replied, thinking, yes, last time I was here it only took eight quarters to start the machine. Looking closer at her face, she was fairly attractive, but the makeup was a bit over the top, at least for a Laundromat. "Yeah, it's like that everywhere, they fixed up the apartments where we live and then raise the rent." I shrugged and shook my head, thinking to myself, "Apartment? I would have guessed trailer park," immediately chastising myself for thinking of something so rude. "Yeah, it's happening all over." "Hey, why don't you come over here so we don't have to shout?" she asked. "Well, I didn't want to disturb you," I answered, really meaning, "I just wanted to read my book without you disturbing me." "Aw, come on, you won't bother me. The TV reception sucks and besides there's nothing good on anyway." I closed my book and walked over to her, but as I got close, she moved a pile of her clothes into the folding room. I followed her in and stood beside her as she began folding. I leaned back against the table and asked, "Do you come here a lot?" "At least once a week, but I haven't seen you here before." "I have a washer and dryer at home, I just come when I need to clean the bathroom carpet, maybe once every four months." "Wow, a washer and dryer, that'd be so nice," she said dreamily. "Yeah, and with the baby," I said, nodding at her stomach, "I'm sure you'll be spending a lot of time here. You sure you can't get a washer and dryer." "Yeah, hubby says we can't afford it. This baby's really changed things." "They do that." "I mean in all sorts of ways," she said with an odd look on her face. She seemed to be sizing me up in some way. "What kind of ways?" I asked, immediately wishing I hadn't. "Oh lots," she said. I nodded, thankful she didn't elaborate... "I mean like sex. My husband and I haven't ah, really done it... you know," she said, moving her hips back and forth, "I mean really done it in months." Feeling my face heat up I said, "But I heard you could have sex until fairly late..." "Oh we've done things, like oral. He likes doing me that way, so we do it a lot, but damn, sometimes I just need more. You know what I mean." "More?" "Sometimes I just need a cock." "But you should..." "You don't understand, my husband's big." "Big?' "Like eight inches," she said, holding her hands to show me his length. "And?" "And cause he is so big, we can't, I'm afraid it might hurt the baby. I mean even before I got pregnant, sometimes it hurt me when he shoved it hard." I had images of some giant, motorcycle gang ex-convict type pummeling this petite woman with his massive log rolling through my mind. Those images then combined with ones of that ex-con then pummeling me for talking with his wife about cock sizes. I winced a bit, trying to think of an excuse to go back and read my book when she blindsided me with her next question. "How big are you?" "Ah... I, ah....," I stammered. "I mean I heard chubby, white guys are all pretty small." "Husky... I'm husky." "Okay, I heard husky white guys are small." "I haven't had any complaints, I mean I am larger than average." "How large is that?" she asked. "A little over five and one half inches." "Really?" she asked, looking up at my face. She then looked down and said, "Nah." "Seriously," I said. In a sudden flash, she reached forward, grabbed the elastic band on my shorts and pulled in out and down, exposing my cock. Embarrassed by the conversation we'd been having, my cock had shrunk, so much so that the head was the only thing protruding. She kneeled suddenly and slipped her mouth over my tiny cock and began sucking wildly. All I could do was stand there as my cock grew into her mouth, reaching a full erection in just moments. She reached up and grabbed the shaft, removing her mouth once she confirmed I was fully hard. "See, it grows a lot," I said, completely flustered. "Let's see," she replied, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small ruler. Fuck, she was going to measure me! "Ah, just as I thought, only four and three quarter inches." "Well, you're not measuring from the right place. You need to measure from underneath," I said, guiding her hand down toward my balls. "No, no, I measure my husband here." "You measure him there and it's still over eight inches." Good Lord, must be enormous! "Yes, that's my point. I haven't had him inside me in a long, long, long time." "So..." "So I want you to fuck me. You're small enough that it won't hurt. Will you do that?" "Right here?" "Yeah, there's a pocket door. It pulls shut and you and latch it," she said, pointing to the doorway. "Okay," I said, pulling the door closed and making sure it was latched. By the time I turned around, she had her shorts and panties down around her ankles and she was kicking off her shoes. I pulled my shirt over my head and pulled down my shorts and underwear, sliding them over my shoes. "Here, help me up on the table," she said. I carefully took her by the waist and eased her up on the table. Leaning back, she spread her legs and I moved my face toward her pussy. "No, no, no oral, I want your cock." "But are you ready?" "Christ, it's running down my legs I'm so ready." Looking back at her pussy I did notice it was glistening in the bright fluorescent lighting. I paused a moment to take in the sight, her shirt pulled back over her stomach, the skin forming a tight mound. Lower, her thick patch of hair looked soft and her lips were red and swollen. "Please," she begged. I moved to her, grabbing her thighs and pulling her back to me. Then I leaned forward as she took me and guided me into her. My cock slid easily into her soaking opening, as I carefully pushed in, burying myself to the hilt. I paused, worried I may have hurt her. "Oh yes," she called out. "Come on, give it all to me." I moaned, "I did." "Oh, okay... well do it again." I pulled back and then plunged into her again, this time pushing a bid harder. "Come on, push it all the way." "I am... I am." "Harder then," she pleaded. I could hear her juices slurping around me as I withdrew and then plunged into her, my balls slamming against her ass as I reached the hilt. Again and again I plunged as I felt her nails dig deep into my arms. She cried out, "Oh yes, I'm coming, I'm coming." With no worries about impregnating her, I let myself go too, letting the sensation engulf my cock as I spurted deep into her. I left myself pushed deep into her, as deep as I could go and I wondered, how she could take a full eight inches. No wonder I had to slam so hard into her before she came. I felt my cock begin to slip out of her when she said something to me. "How long till you can go again?" she asked. Taken aback by her question, since I expected her to perhaps thank me, or at least comment on how good it was, I didn't answer right away. "Did you hear me?" "Yes, yes... I heard. I don't know." "Look that was nice, but I think you're small enough that I can take you from behind. Can you do that for me?" "Well, let me get a candy bar or something. It will take a while, I'm not as young as you." She smiled then and said, "You know, for a little guy you did pretty good." "For a little guy?" She shrugged, "I mean..." "No, no, it's okay. Actually, I guess I am lucky to be so little. It's just not a compliment most men would like to receive." "Oh, but I needed it," she said, running her hand gently over my cock. It began to harden a bit, so she eased herself off the folding table and then took me in her mouth. Oh, she was good. I guess after handling some monster cock, my more average one was easy for her because as her tongue slid around the head, and her teeth lightly moved down the shaft my cock immediately hardened. Even though I had just come moments before, if she kept going much longer I'd be coming in her mouth. Ah, but she needed my erect cock elsewhere and as soon as she was sure I was fully hard, she moved her mouth away and stood up. She then placed one elbow on the folding table and reached back between her legs with the other hand. Spreading her legs wide, she moved her hand up and down, urging me forward. When she found my cock, she pulled me to her, guiding me back into her. I slid easily into her as the mixture of my cum and hers coated me, oozing out between her lips as I pushed all the way to the hilt. Quickening my pace, soon I was splashing into her again and again. Her fingers were still down between her legs, moving over her clit and my cock as I plunged deep into her. Even as I shoved hard into her, she pushed herself back onto me, wanting more, wanting me deeper. My back began to ache as I arched it pushing my hips to her with each crashing penetration. Although she didn't say anything this time, I could tell by her moans and the way she moved that she had to have come at least twice, if not more, when I could hold out no more and came, wrapping my arms around her large belly and resting my chest on her back. It was a few moments before she said anything, she whispered, "Oh yes, thank you. I needed that so bad." I quickly withdrew from her and grabbed for my clothes, wondering about her husband. She also got dressed quickly, pulling her panties up tight to her sopping pussy. A large wet spot began to appear as she pulled on her shorts. "I better check on my washing," I said. "Yes, me too," she replied and then reaching her hand out to me she continued, "It was nice meeting you." I shook her hand and said, "Yes, nice meeting you too." The washer had finished a while ago, so I grabbed the damp carpet and got together my book and the washing powder container and headed for the door. Before I could go out, a small guy in a denim vest, arms covered in tattoos walked past me and headed toward the pregnant woman. "Hey baby," she cried out, I'm just starting to fold here. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard, moving her back into the drying room as they kissed. The door slid partway closed, but I could still see the two of them as he pulled off her shorts and panties and lifted her back up onto the drying table. She spread her legs as his face moved down to her pussy. Her legs then wrapped around his shoulders as his head moved up and down making loud slurping noises. None of the washers or dryers were running, but still that slurping was so loud I could hear it as I passed though the door. I jumped into my car praying the guy didn't figure out why his wife was so wet until I was long gone. Starting my engine I pulled away, afraid to look back until I was several miles away. I felt my cock begin to harden thinking about the husband eating the cream pie I left behind. Laundromat I wouldn't have even been in the fucking laundry room downstairs if it wasn't for George fucking Bush. Or was it Bill fucking Clinton? It could be that B. fucking Obama guy's idea of taking what I knew damned good and well was MY money and giving it to the fucking fat cat bankers that caused the goddamn problem in the first place? That doesn't matter, I never did figure out who to blame for sure, I just knew that somebody fucked up the works for me. Thirty plus long years I made my house payments, got the thing paid for too, all mine. At the same time I invested in growth funds, nice solid one step at a time increase in value. Regular as clockwork, I followed the rule of buying into averages. While all that was going on, I watched high tech funds explode in value, several hundred times the gains I made. Then I got to giggle as the bottom fell out, my stuff just pegged right along, 4-6% every year, regular as clockwork. Hell, I was a fucking genius, no doubt about that. House paid for, 500K in the funds, I could retire. By the time I actually did sell it was $100K left. My house that I bought for $129,500 that grew in value to $300,000 and probably more was worth $89,500 and the real estate guy told me that was good? I had to sell it, I couldn't pay the damned property taxes and still eat, not without drawing down principal. Someone explain to me how a house can decrease in value by about 70% but the fucking property taxes go UP by damn near double? Just fuck. A lifetime of effort, savings, hard work all shot to shit in about 60 fucking days! So getting the nice 5-6% return on my entire lifetime accumulation of a half million bucks became 1% of $100,000, which is less than 100 bucks per month? Great. With my $900 per month in Social Security I suppose I was better off than some, but not by much. I sold the house, clearing almost 70 grand. I put that into a money market account, now with everything I had almost $1100 per month to live on. That was a far cry from the almost four grand I had counted on. I took it all in stride, nothing I could do about it. I rented an apartment, it was two bedrooms and on the 4th floor, no elevator. Counting the pennies, I could eat at least. Downstairs in the basement were the washing machines, each one with the little slide that took quarters to make them run. I saved up until everything I owned was dirty and washed everything at once, to save the precious quarters. That would be fine but about half the time the coin box was yanked out of them and they were broken down. Then is was call the landlord, listen to him swear, then wait until the old black guy came by and fixed them. Then it was start all over, within two weeks someone would break them again. I was suspicious, the old black guy sure seemed to be happy as a clam in butter sauce as he reattached the coin boxes. There was always one machine left that still worked. Since it was an $18 taxicab ride to the next nearest laundromat, I was thinking the old guy broke into them himself, then got paid to fix them. More than once I saw him down there washing his clothes, too. Always happy. Oh, well. Nothing I could do about that, either. I was headed down the stairs, carrying my basket of clothes. It was heavy, I had to stop at each landing to catch my breath, it's hell to be coming up on 66 years old. Finally I got to the basement, I could hear one of the machines running, thank God! I walked in and sat down my basket, then stood there resting my old legs for a moment. Looking up, I spotted her. A young woman sat there, a dirty looking blanket wrapped snugly around herself. She was eyeing me with suspicion. "Hello!" I said, giving her my very best grandfatherly smile. She seemed to relax a little, but still looked wary. I looked at the machine fartherest away from her, figuring to give her some space. The fucking coin box hung at a crazy angle. Same with the one next to it, and the one next to her. The only one working was the one she was using. I sighed and sat down to wait. "Some guy ran out when I came in, I think he was breaking into the machines." She told me. "Happens all the time." I muttered. "Do you live here?" She asked, taking another tug at the blanket. "Yea, I am in 403." I said. "I just moved into number 4 yesterday." "Oh." That pissed me off, a ground floor unit? I had a standing request for a ground floor unit, the fucking landlord was supposed to call me. Fat chance of that. Then I realized that number 4 was the tiny little studio in the corner, no way could I live there anyway. Her machine shut off. She sat there, looking at me. I looked right back, she didn't move. I waited, the silence was overwhelming. I wanted to use the fucking machine and she just sat there. "Are you going to use the dryer, are you done?" I asked her finally. "I can't. I need to...all my clothes are in the machine." She looked extremely uncomfortable. "Would you like me to move them over for you?" I asked her, not wanting to leave because sure as hell if I did someone would come in and take my place in line. "Would you? That would be so nice." She smiled, it hit me that when she smiled she actually looked a bit pretty. "I'm Dan." I told her, getting up and opening the lid on the machine. "Deedee, it's short for Denise." She said, as I pulled out first a pair of blue jeans, then a blouse. I shook those out, there was a pair of socks and a bra that had obviously seen better days. There was a flimsy pair of once white panties, too, and that was it. They looked clean but washing them with blue jeans? "Is this everything?" I asked, a little surprised. It looked like she was washing the clothes she was wearing, which explained her not wanting to get up with me there. "Yes, that is all I have." She said, her face flushing. I moved the clothes over to the dryer, thinking they should have been seperated but that would mean more quarters. I understood perfectly about the quarters. I reached in my pocket and fed the machine, pushed the slide and the dryer started. Then I loaded the washing machine, stopping a couple of times to push down on the clothes so I could get all of them in there. Normally I would go back upstairs, but she was still sitting there. I now figured she was naked under the blanket, my protective urge kicked in. "Do you want me to stay here with you? I can turn my back when you get dressed." I said, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. "Yes, thank you sir." "Dan." I said. "Yes...Dan. Thank you." I sat down, we started to talk. She had worked in an office, but gotten laid off. When she couldn't pay her apartment rent at her former place, they kicked her out and put all of her things in storage. She had no money to pay the storage, so she ended up living in her car until they came and took that, too. She found a government agency, section 8, and she ended up here. I told her my story, it wasn't a heck of a lot better. She gave me a sad look. "We work so hard and try so hard and it's like everything the government does makes it worse." She said. My feelings exactly. I started to open my mouth to go off into one of my anti government tirades, but the dryer shut off. I got up and retrieved her clothes, shook then out. They felt nice and dry, still warm to the touch. I folded them into a stack and handed them to her. She reached out to take them, the blanket slipped and one smallish breast slid into view, confirming my suspicion that she was naked under the big blanket. She quickly clutched the clothes to her upper body to hide herself. "I am sorry." She said. "Don't worry about it, I am just an old man, I have seen pretty girls before." She beamed at that, carefully tugging the blanket back over herself. "I need to put these on." She looked at me expectantly. Just then a middle aged couple came in, looked at the machines and the one in use, then they sat down. They had two huge baskets of clothes with them. "Hey, should I maybe hold the blanket up for you?" I told her. "OK. You won't peek?" "No, I won't peek." I laughed. She gave me a big smile and stood up, turning her back. I carefully took the big blanket and held it up high for her. She was dressed in seconds, then she turned and took the blanket. She walked over and sat down. "I need to wash this, too." She told me. "Want to use one of mine? I have extras." I told her on impulse. I started loading the dryer. "Oh. That would be nice, this is the only one I have and it's so dirty." I sat down next to her. Her hair was dishwater blond, stringy looking. She had no makeup at all. I could smell a hint of what I thought might be Lavender? We chatted for a half hour as the other couple sat waiting for the washer to finish, just then the black guy came in and started fixing the machines. Hell, I didn't even have to call the landlord this time. I finished up my load, carried it back upstairs. I retrieved one of my soft downy bed covers, thinking it would be nice and warm for her. I went back downstairs and knocked on her door. "Come on in." She smiled, holding the door for me. I looked around her apartment, there was nothing. The dirty blanket was carefully folded over against the wall, there was a table and two chairs, a stove and a fridge. That was it. I sat in one of the chairs, she went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of Koolaid. "Sorry, this is all I have." She told me. "It's fine, thanks." We sat and chatted for several hours, she basically unloaded on me, everything that had happened to her. By the time I left I was feeling a lot better about my own situation. Each day I would go down to check on her, I enjoyed talking to her. She was bright, easy to talk to. A couple of times I took along sandwiches, once I mentioned I liked Chess and she said she did too so I took my board down. She whipped my ass, and rather easily, a surprise to me. I had thought I was pretty good at Chess. A few days later I ran into her in the lobby, I was headed out to grab a burger so I asked her if she would like to come along. "Sure!" She answered. I had a feeling she wasn't likely to turn down a chance at some food. I watched as she ate ravenously. On the way back we passed a second hand store. She stopped to look in. They had a bed in there that had one of those wooden press together frames with a huge mirror in the headboard. Even the mattress and springs looked to be in great shape, I looked at the tag and it read sold. "I have been making payments, I still owe them $30.00." She told me. "I was hoping I could find a place to live by the time I got it paid for, so next month when I get my check....." I paid that for her, she protested some but not a lot. I had seen her blanket piled in the corner. It took us all of the rest of that day to drag the thing back in pieces, then assemble it. It did overwhelm the room of the small studio apartment. I laughed hilariously when she hopped up on it and bounced up and down, delighted. Deedee was beginning to be someone I looked forward to being around, she was delighted with the smallest things. She made me feel younger if that makes any sense at all. "Well, I guess I best get going, maybe I will see you tomorrow or the next day?" I told her, getting up. She bounced off the bed onto the floor, then piled into my arms and hugged me. "Danny, thank you! You are so nice to me, it just makes everything seem like it will all be OK when you are here." She had me in almost a death grip. That felt rather nice, to be honest. It had been many years since I had a woman, any woman in my arms. Then she turned up her face, it was like she was asking for a kiss, so I kissed her. For a moment, it was just that, a kiss. Then she pushed up on tiptoe and it became more urgent. Somehow we ended up on the bed, she pushed on me until I rolled over on my back, then she got on top of me and began to kiss me some more. My shirt was unbuttoned, both of her palms rubbing up and down my chest, she reached down and tugged at my belt. In seconds she had me freed, both hands wrapped around my swiftly growing erection. Then she hopped off the bed, standing there looking at me. I looked back, unsure at the moment, thinking she just got carried away. Deedee reached over her shoulders in that motion that only women seem to be able to do, in one pull she was naked to the waist. Her breasts were tiny, her body was rail thin. Reaching down, she tugged at her waist and her jeans fell to the floor, she stepped out of them. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her, her ribs actually showed. Her hips looked to be barely larger than her waist. There was an unkempt tangle of pubic hair, she sure didn't bother to trim it any. I looked her up and down with a smile, realizing just how painfully young she was. "Am I all right?" She asked. That sounded strange to me. She stood there completely naked, almost like she expected me to find something wrong? "You are just fine!" I told her. "I had a dream last night of making love with you." She said, sliding up and straddling my chest. I didn't know what to say, this had all caught me completely by surprise. I did know I was hard as I ever got, all six inches of me stuck straight up. "Well? Will you?" She was asking me if I would make love to her, sitting astride my chest completely naked except for her socks. I couldn't help it, I started to laugh. "What's so fucking funny?" She asked in a teasing tone, her palms flat on my chest, leaning forward to look at me. "You don't have a stitch on, you are sitting there with me so hard it is about the break and you are asking permission?" I grinned. She smiled and lifted up, reaching between her legs with both hands to guide me as she sat down on me. "How's that?" She asked. "That feels pretty nice!" She lifted up and dropped back down on me. "And how is that?" She said, stopping again. That time she reached behind her back to cradle my balls. "Oh, God." I muttered. I began to thrust, in seconds she fell into time with me. My body wanted to blast off instantly, I fought that with every fiber of my being. Her tiny little A sized breasts were bouncing, I reached up to fondle them, getting a sigh from her. Then she began to convulse, leaning forward until she was mashed against me. "Damn I needed that, it's been so long." She told me as she lay against my side. "Been a long time for me too, Deedee." I said. "How long?" She asked. Now she had rolled up higher, she was licking my nipple with the tip of her tongue, rolling the other one between her fingertips. Lord that that feel good, it made my head swim. "Since my wife and I...I guess 10 years or so." I didn't want to talk about my ex wife much, that had turned out to be a set back. "I had a boyfriend, he worked in my office. But he was the reason I got....." Her voice trailed off. "This is strange honey, I am old enough to be your grandfather." "I don't give a damn, that was fun. I like you." She snuggled up even tighter. It was just a few weeks later, Deedee moved into my apartment with me. For one thing, my apartment was far larger, had a bedroom and much larger kitchen, and furniture. I did have to take my old bed apart and move it to the spare bedroom, Deedee insisted on having hers. It took us another entire day to move it upstairs and set it up. Then she also insisted on trying it out again, we spent a couple of hours checking the box springs for squeaks. This was amazing and I would have never even dreamed that I would end up living with a 20 year old girl, not at my age. But Deedee seemed to be happy, so I figured as long as she was, kick back and enjoy it. She also put on some weight, she actually began to grow some breasts and her hips filled out. I knew that for several months she had lived where she could and how she could, and that even food had been a daily problem. I understood that, I was seeing it everywhere, the sad faces with dark eyes we passed daily out on the streets. It didn't take long before Deedee was doing the shopping, she was also a surprisingly good cook. Then one day she handed me the mail, there was the usual light bill and phone bill, we also had a small cable bill for the TV. I asked her to go ahead and make out the checks and I would sign them, she did that. I signed them and mailed them off. The next month was the same, that was a pain in the ass so I put her name on my checking account so she could sign them herself. I also made her a signer on my money market account so she could move money over to cover the checks. That was easier, for a couple of months things went so smoothly that I just got used to it. We took long walks, once in awhile we went out to eat at the little cafe down the street. Everyone was used to us by now, the strange looks we got at first when the gray haired old man and the barely out of her teens young woman came in holding hands faded. Then one day Deedee asked me if we could get a car, I didn't own one at the time. A vehicle wasn't exactly in the budget, and I told her so. "But if we had a car, I can maybe find a job? That way we can start saving some." She snuggled up to me and kissed me. "You don't really need to work." I told her. "I think I might have to, if they find out I am not living by myself they will cut off my checks." I nodded. There was that, we had been playing the government dole game for quite awhile. It didn't take long, we found an old Honda that was in fair shape and ran good. No way could we afford to insure it, so I just bought insurance to get the card for the glovebox, cancelled it. The refund check arrived in a couple of weeks. At least if we got stopped by the cops we had something to show them. More little shortcut games. The surprise was when Deedee came home, she told me she had found a job working as a forms typist for a lawyer's office. She was all excited about that, so excited we ended up making love all over the house. By now she had blossomed, she had several nice outfits, she used a hint of makeup. I was amazed at the transformation in just a few short months, and pleased because her body felt so good to me. She was always eager to make love, we did it a lot. For a few weeks Deedee got up each morning and dressed for work. She came home around 6 PM each evening, regular as clockwork. How lucky can an old man be? A beautiful young woman, happy and eager for sex. Deedee seemed to be pleased with me, pleased with her life. Things were really going smoothly. I saw her check one Friday evening, it wasn't huge but it was sure going to help. The next Monday evening she didn't come home. By around 10 PM I was in a panic. I couldn't call the office where she worked, they were closed. I called the local hospitals, called the police department, nothing. The next day I called her work, she wasn't there. I went down to file a missing persons report. The police officer listened to my story and got an expression on his face like he knew fucking something I didn't? "We will see what we can do." He said, reaching for his coffee cup. Hell, all I could think of were the horror stories, how young women were grabbed in parking lots, dragged off and raped, perhaps even killed. MY Deedee, lying out there dead in the woods somewhere? The thought tormented me. By the 3rd evening I was a shambles of myself. Deedee had simply vanished off the face of the Earth, no sign of her, no sign of the car, nothing. My phone rang the morning of the 6th day, it was someone from the landlord. She told me the check had been returned unpaid. "That is impossible, I have at least $3000.00 in my checking account." I told her. Laundromat "You need to check on that, sir." She told me. I called the bank, punched in the numbers to verify my account balance. "Your account balance is minus $2.30." The machine told me. That was when it hit me. I walked the 10 blocks down to the bank. They told me my checking account was cleaned out, my money market account had been closed. They showed me the signature, it was Deedee's. I went home and made a phone call, one account was left. That was a pass through annuity I had purchased for $29,000, it was in just my name. I sat down in shock. It struck me that I was just a 67 year old fool. The next day I went down to the police station to file charges. The same sad faced cop told me there was nothing they could do, Deedee was a signer on the accounts. I had put her name on the money market account so she could transfer money over for bills, she had been writing all the checks for months. Hell, even the damn Honda was titled in her name, we had bought it so she could find work. I even took the bus and went to where she had worked, they told me she had quit one day after her last payday, she still had a small check waiting for her. I asked for it but they wouldn't give it to me, then they asked me if I had her forwarding address. I laughed like a maniac at that, everyone looked at me oddly. I turned and walked away. I did get my first floor apartment, it is number four. The very same one Deedee had when we met. Just a tiny studio, I can afford that. The big wooden frame bed fills the room nicely, it is comfortable. I cashed out the remaining annuity, paid off the bad checks Deedee had written there at the last. My $900 per month shows up from the government regular as clockwork. Sometimes I take myself in hand, that vision of Deedee's naked body, the way she climbed up on top of me so eagerly almost completely real in my mind. After I finish with that, I think of spotting her walking down the street. I have this vision of watching the expression on her face as my hands close down around her throat and I squeeze..and squeeze..and squeeze. Everyone has a fantasy, I guess. I did get a postcard. It hangs from the mirror on the big wooden frame bed. "Sorry." Is all it says, with a happy face drawn on it. There is no signature, the postmark is somewhere in Arizona. There is no fool like an old fool, they say. Laundromat "You see, they used to have things called Laundromats," Two said. "Laundromats?" "Yeah, womens would come and wash their clothes, their shirts, their pants, their skirts and yeah, they'd also wash other things. Soft things... bras and mmm, panties." "Bras and panties too?" "Exactly," Two replied. "Yeah, all you had to do was watch, be quick and you could get one. Bras were nice, panties better." "How would you do that?" "It was easy, you act like you got something in a machine and when they go into their purse to pay the money you run like hell, grab something white and frilly and run like hell." "They ever catch you?" "Hell no, all they'd do is scream and get the hell out of the way. They was more worried about their money or phone, they'd leave the real prize out for pickin'." "And they were real live bras and..." "Oh yea, real live... ok the bras were nice but the panties, the panties man you could smell them. You pull one over your head and you could take a deep breath of poontang," Two moaned. "You could really smell?" "Yeah, not like today where the women wear these edible things and then just as they get smelling real nice they go home, pull them off and feed them to their mate. It's like dinner now. But back then you could find some with a real crusty spot, scratch on it and you'll smell her good. And the taste, oh man tasting that dried poontang juice and it's just like eating her out." "Damn, why don't they do that now Two?" "Do what?" "Wear those things?" "Technology man, it's taken all the fun out of it. You know don't even get to smell or taste, it's all like digital man." "Yea, I heard about that. But you sayin' nobody..." "Nope, even the poor folk don't. Not since 'bamacare approved it all. No instead of fucking, eating, or sucking they get out their dee-vizes and hook up. They watch each other on the screen as they feel what the other's doin'." "Howze that work?" "I tell you Nine, it's crazy. Even with their mates... they will go into another room... if you're a guy you lube up your dee-vize..." "That Real Touch thingy?" "Right, the guy pumps the lube in and then pushes his cock in. As he is doing it the woman takes her own dee-vize and shoves it up her poontang. He feels it on his cock like it's sliding in and she feels in up inside of her. Then they just do it all. Supposed to be just like real." "You ever tried one Two?" "Nah, just about the time they put it on my 'bamacare I got decertified." "How did you do that?" "Oh hell, I just got to yearning that spicy taste of poontang and well, I followed some lady. Chased her up some alley, knocked her down and ate her panties off her." "You taste the poontang?" "Nah, it's those damn panties... cherry flavored, I mean George Washington cherry. Couldn't taste anything. Should have just stuck my tongue in her, but I just ate the panties." "She turn you in?" "Yeah, read my bar code. I told them she must have read it wrong but apparently I drooled on her when I ate the panties. They DNAed me and attached this," he lifted his shirt and showed the small vial up under his arm. "Is that..." "Yeah, two year's worth. Now it don't work, even when I slather it down with cockhard. Even tried those pills but I'm limp as a wet noodle. I'm still craving that poontang, but I got a plan." "Plan? What you gonna do? They ain't gonna let you near any walk zone. How you gonna get poontang?" "I been saving... in fact that's why I came to see ya. I been saving and now I got the money. Gonna catch a bus." "Howze catchin' a bus gonna help?" "Gonna get a ticket to Mexico. I been checking up. You see they aren't as advanced as we are here. They got no Real Touch." "You mean..." Two nodded, "Old fashion fucking, just like back in the twenty teens. But there's something even better." "What do you care, you can't do any of that," Nine replied nodding at Two's armpit. "They got Laundromats! I'm catchin' a bus tonight. Sweet, sweet poontang," he said nodding to Nine before walking toward the bus station. Laundromat Sex I went to the laundromat downstairs last week and there was this really sexy guy in there with me. We smiled at each other and went about our things. I hope I'll see him again... I imagine him coming up behind me and putting his hands on my sides and pushing his hard dick against my ass. I do my laundry in yoga pants, no undies, so when his hands slide down my sides and into my pants his hands slide over my soft bare skin... I grind my ass back into his dick and I hear him moan. His hands go back up my sides, under my t shirt and over my bra. He yanks down the cups so that he can pinch my nipples. It feels so good, I throw back my head and he kisses my neck. One of his hands keeps playing with my tits while the other one travels down, inside my pants, to my wet pussy. Slowly, he moves his fingers all over my cunt, flicking over my clit, making me even wetter. His other hand leaves my tits and goes to the back of my head so he can push my body down over the washing machine. He then yanks down my pants, spreads my legs with his foot and thrusts into me, his other hand never stopping the amazing motion over my clit. It's all so intense; I'm already close to the edge as I feel him pounding into me. I start crying out but he doesn't want people to hear us and walk in, so his other hand grips my mouth shut. After a few more minutes, I cum and he lets go of my clit, putting both his hands on my hips and starts fucking me faster, harder. I'm ready for another orgasm, so I reach under me and stroke my clit and make myself cum. I know he likes the way it makes me squeeze his dick, because he bangs into me really hard a few more times and I feel him release his load. Yes, I really hope I see him again. The following week, I'm preparing to go down and do my laundry. Just in case I bump into him, I decide to wear a skirt and a tank top, no underwear and no bra, and I let my hair down. A slut needs to be prepared for anything! When I walk into the laundry room, he's there, slowly folding his laundry. Last time he hadn't folded his laundry, he had left with it as is, so I can't help but wonder if he had been hoping to run into me, too, and was taking his time with his laundry to leave me a chance to get there. I'm glad I decided to go back at the same day and time! He looks up from his task and smiles at me. I blush and say hi, shyly. I may be up for anything, but I'm still very shy in the beginnings... I turn my back to him to start putting my clothes in the machine. I hear him move behind me and I hold my breath, guiltily remembering my fantasy. But, he doesn't come up behind me. He stands next to me and says hi. I turn to look at him and I find myself looking into his nice brown eyes. He's truly very good looking. Not very tall, my height, but with amazingly strong looking shoulders. He's black, and I can't help but wonder what his dark skin would look like against my pale skin, his hands caressing me. He introduces himself and we shake hands. The contact feels electric; I feel a current run through my body, making me instantly warm. I think I'm blushing again. We talk for a while, and then I remember that I'm sorting laundry and I get back to my task. Him: - I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep you. Me: -Don't worry about it. I'm glad I'm talking with you. It's nice to meet you Him: - Same here. Actually... No, never mind. Me: -What? Don't be shy! Him: I don't know if I should tell you this, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since last week. Me, smiling: -I understand, it's been the same for me. I was hoping to see you again, that's why I took my time in finding a pretty outfit. Him, laughing: -You chose well! It's very sexy. That tank top probably lets me see more than I should. Me: -I wanted to be sure that you would notice me. Him: -Mission accomplished... My whole body has noticed you! Me, moving close to him and putting my hand on his chest: -Really? How can I tell that your body his responding to what it sees? Him: -You look like a smart girl. I'm sure you know how to tell if a man is aroused. I keep looking him straight in the eye as I let my hand slowly wander down his chest, over his abs and over his belt, stopping on his groin. He gasps and I say: 'It sure feels nice and hard down here. I guess you really did notice my body through this top!' I continue moving my hand up and down over his groin, feeling his hard cock through his pants. 'Don't you want to touch me, too?' I ask, innocently. He smiles and his hand moves to my neck, pulling my head up and to the side so he can kiss my collarbone. He gently squeezes my throat before letting his hand travel down my chest, over my breasts, never stopping his kissing. I moan. His touch is driving me wild. He's squeezing my tits, massaging them through the thin fabric of my top. My nipples are getting hard and he pinches each of them in turn. He stops kissing me and pushes me away. My hand is no longer touching him, and I already feel the loss. I crave to touch him again. I ask: 'Why did you stop? Don't you like touching me?' He says: 'I wanted to look at you. Can you push up your top to show me your breasts, please?' I smile and do as he asks. He's looking straight at my naked boobs. I reach to them, caressing them, circling my nipples with my fingers. 'Yes', he says, 'I like watching you touch yourself like that. Come here.' I move closer to him and he leans his head down to my nipple. His hands grab both my tits and he moves his mouth from one breast to the other, licking and sucking me. I'm so turned on, my legs feel weak and I back up to the washing machine to lean on it for support. He moves closer to me, his hands still on my breasts, but his mouth moves back up my chest, to my neck, to my chin and, finally, he kisses me. I feel his tongue on mine and the wetness and warmth is amazing. He's such a great kisser and that is a major turn on. His right hand leaves my breast to move down my body, over my hip and back to my ass. I've got a pretty big booty, so he has a handful and he squeezes and caresses. I moan, kissing him harder. My hands are moving under his shirt, feeling his skin, moving down to his belt. I unbuckle him, unzip him and I slide my hand into his pants, finally touching his hard dick. It's nice and hard, perfectly big, and I pull it out so I can see it. I stop kissing him so that I can see my hand around him, stroking him. Seeing him like that, with precum already glistening, really turns me on. I run my thumb over his tip, back and forth. He moves his hips slowly to meet my hand and I know he likes it. His hands are exploring further now. He still has a hand massaging my breast, but the other one has moved under my skirt. I can't wait to see the surprise on his face when he realises that I'm not wearing any underwear! I spread my legs slightly, to make sure that he has easy access. Noticing me shift my balance, he gets the hint and moves his hand to my mound. He smiles at me and says: 'I love a girl who's ready to offer herself like this!' and slides his fingers down to my wetness, spreading my lips and making me moan. As I pump my hand up and down his rock hard cock, he moves over my clit, faster and faster. The whole thing is so hot, it doesn't take long for me to start feeling an orgasm coming on. I let go of his dick, put my hands back on the washing machine for support and let it come. It's great; it makes me scream and gasp. I want him so badly now, I turn around to lean over the washing machine. As I do so, I notice a man in the doorway!! I gasp, surprised, and I move to put my top back on properly. But my lover stops me and says: 'Don't worry baby. He likes what he sees. He's been there a while and he's enjoying the show. I want him to watch. Doesn't it turn you on that he's looking at you getting fucked?' I have to admit, I'm so turned on I don't want to stop. I bend over the machine, my eyes never leaving the stranger's. More relaxed now, I notice the bulge in his pants. As my lover penetrates me, I scream out and move my hips back to let him take me deeper. I look at the stranger straight in the eye and say: 'Take it out. I want to see you jack off while I get my pussy pounded. Show me how much you like it! He quickly unzips his pants and takes out his dick for me to see. He grips it hard and starts beating it. My lover is fucking me hard and everything turns me on. The fact that I'm having crazy sex with a stranger I just met, in public no less! The fact that my naked breasts are rubbing on the cold metal top of the washing machine, my nipples hard and sensitive, and the other man watching me, jerking off to me getting pounded right in front of him. It's too much to take; I decide to fulfill another part of my fantasy and I reach down to my clit, touching myself. I'm already so wet and sensitive from my other orgasm, it doesn't take long for me to cry out as I cum again. My lover lets me get over my orgasm while he fucks me more slowly. Then, as I open my eyes, he grabs my shoulders and makes me stand straighter. He starts really going at me, fucking me hard and fast, and it's so intense I cry out every time. I think the stranger looking at me is getting a pretty good show, with my tits bouncing and shaking from the rough fuck my lover is giving me. He's jerking off faster and I see him ejaculate all over the place. It's pretty amazing to watch. He's gasping and moaning. I never thought I would be so turned on by watching a man beat one off. My lover grabs my hair and pulls me back tighter against him. His other hand moves down to my pussy. Again! I don't think I can take another orgasm! I feel so sensitive! But he knows what he's doing. He's so gentle with his hand on my clit, while he's so rough with his dick in my hot wet cunt. He has me screaming heavily in no time, and I cum all over his hand and cock. He loves it. He's yelling out 'fuck yeah' with every stroke now. He lets go of my hair, grabs my hips and slams into me another few times before pulling out and turning me around. 'Down on your knees' he says. I do so and for the second time today I watch a man stroke his dick and make himself cum. Except, this time, the man shoots his load right into my mouth. I swallow and I get up, straightening my clothes. I smile at them and I turn around to move my clothes to the dryer. I say: 'This is going to take about an hour to be dry. I'm going up to my place to take a shower. Does anyone else want to come?' I walk out, and both men follow me.