There’s no good day to go to the laundromat, but if there was one, this drab, cloudy Tuesday afternoon was it. I hoped it wouldn't be as busy on a weekday. My morning classes were finished at the university. As I walked in, the air smelled faintly of fabric softeners, and the hum of the machines blended with the soft rustling of laundry tumbling in the dryers. An older lady stood watch as the final countdown on the dryers moved to single digits.  She smiled warmly with a look of pity as I walked past her, my petite form lugging my heavy, over-filled laundry bag, wearing only a spaghetti-strap white top and short, blue running shorts.

I loaded my clothes into two washing machines. Pushing the start buttons not only began the wash cycle but my imprisonment of boredom for the next two hours. It was tempting to leave, but I didn’t want my clothes to get stolen. I opened the textbook I brought, pretending to use the time to study. I knew better. I watched the older lady finish folding her laundry until she left, leaving me alone in the mind-numbing captivity of the laundromat. My thoughts wandered, thinking about different guys I met in classes, at my apartment complex, and at parties. That only made me horny. My fingers impishly slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts to the wetness already developing between my folds. My middle finger circled my sensitive clit. I cruelly brought myself to repeated edges as I fucked a half dozen guys in my mind.

The hornier I grew, the more painfully slow time moved. After what seemed like an eternity, the washing machines finally buzzed, announcing the loads were done. I quickly transferred my wet clothes to the nearby dryers and pressed start. They began to hum and vibrate with purpose. I returned to my prison chair and picked up my book.

Just as I did, the door to the laundromat opened. A Latino guy walked in wearing a white tank undershirt and baggy jeans with a chain hanging on the side, connected to his wallet in the back pocket. He was average height and size, but there was something magnetic about him. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, probably five years older than me. His unruly black hair was combed back. He walked past me, toward the washing machines with an air of confidence, brazenly undressing me with his dark eyes.

I automatically sat up in the hard plastic chair, combing my shoulder-length light brown hair with the fingers of one hand. My other hand moved down my thin white top, pulling the spaghetti straps taut as if wanting to impress for his inspection. I moved the textbook on my lap to the chair next to me, showing off my small running shorts. I blushed, offering a smile and a friendly “Hi.” My puffy nipples grew hard, betraying my arousal through the thin fabric of my top.

He gave a silent nod.

I watched as he threw his small batch of clothes in a machine with a wash tab, closed the door, and pressed start. How could someone look so hot in a laundromat? He turned and started to walk toward the door, leaving the washing machine behind, taking in a long view of me with his gorgeous dark eyes.

“You’re going to leave them?” I blurted; half surprised at myself.

“Is there a reason for me to stay?”

“I mean, someone could steal them,” I offered.

He looked around the empty laundromat. “You going to take my clothes?”

Not from the washing machine, I thought as I got my first good look at him standing before me. My eyes reciprocated the desire to strip him of what he was wearing. I blushed. My nipples tightened more from arousal, growing like thimbles. “Um, no,” I said instead. “Why would I remove your clothes?” An awkward silence thickened the air in the room. “I mean, take them?” I clarified. “Why would I steal them?”

“Then I think they’re safe,” he announced confidently. “Any other reason for me to stay?” he repeated, this time his words having more gravity. His eyes glanced down my body again, paying attention to my taunting nipples.

“You can fuck me,” I said, blurting my unfiltered thoughts. My heart suddenly beat in my chest like a thundering drum. I couldn’t believe I just said that out loud. 

“What?” he said.

“You can fuck me,” I repeated.

“You little slut,” he said. “You college girls are so fucking entitled. You think you can get anything you want when guys like me have to work for it.”

“No, no,” I pleaded. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re bored and want to use me to pass the time, right?” 

I blushed. “Well, I mean,” my voice trailed. “Is that so bad?”

“Fucking daddy’s-girl whore,” he chided.

He had no idea how talking dirty to me like that turned me on even more. “Then use me,” I offered, shocked at my own words.  

“You’re a needy little cunt,” he said.

“I am. I’m not entitled. I’m here to be used like these machines.”

“On your knees,” he tested.

“Yes, daddy,” I said, sliding out of the chair and to my knees.

 “Take it out and suck it, bitch.”

I was getting wet just from the way he was talking to me. I looked up at him with wide eyes as I obediently pulled his beautiful brown cock out. My tongue and lips eagerly acquainted themselves with his manhood. I couldn’t believe I was sucking his cock in public. His dick grew, stretching out toward me. I boastfully swallowed it whole, gagging on it as it hit the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” he said. His knees buckled with my ravenous servicing. He took my head in both hands, laced my hair around his fingers, and began to roughly fuck my face.

A gurgling noise came from my mouth as it filled with saliva.  I held on with both hands around his legs. The harder he fucked my face, the hornier I became. I had never been face fucked so hard. I gagged and coughed.

His strong hand reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up to my feet. He bent me over the corner of one of the dryers, humming with my clothes in it. My pussy was pressed against it with no way of escape. The vibration immediately began to do its work, especially after my previous edges. He pulled my shorts down from behind, exposing my ass. He spanked it hard.

I whimpered. I was drenched and quickly getting close to climax. 

“You fucking little, concha,” he growled as his cock pressed against my folds before thrusting hard into me from behind.

My petite hands gripped the edges of the dryer to brace myself for the forceful fucking. My clit pressed hard against the vibrating dryer as he pounded me, each thrust harder than the last. I squealed and my body quaked as the climax quickly grew and crashed over me.

He continued to use me, refusing to slow down or ease up after my climax. My body felt numb from the overwhelming pleasure of being used. The post-climax torture of the continuing vibration on my clit and his deep thrusts into me took me to an other-worldly place, certain he would bring me to a second climax.

His sweaty body suddenly tightened up. He folded himself over me and moaned loudly in my ear before letting out a string of words in Spanish that I didn’t understand.

Oh, fuck, please don’t cum in me,” I purred, looking back at him, biting my bottom lip teasingly, with a naughty wink.

His strong hands reached up and grabbed my arms, pressing them against the vibrating dryer, holding me in place. “Fuck, yes!” he grunted as he thrust hard into me, filling me with the first wave of his thick cum. He quickly stepped back and pulled my left arm back, yanking me off the dryer like a ragdoll. I fell to my knees in front of him just in time for the next wave of cum to spray my face and top. He pressed his cock against my chin.

I dutifully opened my lips and swallowed his entire length. Loads of thick cum filled my mouth and poured slowly down my hungry throat. I gagged but refused to pull away.

He reached under my shirt, taking my nipple captive between his fingers and thumb of one hand, while his other hand gripped the back of my head to keep his cock in the warmth of my mouth until he finished.

I looked up at him with my wide eyes as I licked him clean.

He stepped back, and put his cock back in his pants, before turning and walking toward the door without saying another word.

I took a deep breath, still on my knees in disbelief at what just happened. Thick cum painted my hair, face, and top and poured from my pussy, in my shorts. Just then, the dryers buzzed, signaling they had finished their full loads. So had I, and it was anything but an ordinary day at the laundromat.