I am like a lot of my friends I went to college got a degree, could not find a job that paid enough to live away from home, and now living with our parents, working two part time jobs, and moonlighting on top of that. I work just so I can pay my student loans, and medical insurance on my parents plan, car insurance, phone bill, and rent to my parents. I'll have the loans paid off in four years, but until then I'm an indentured servant, always broke. I have no time to myself. My social life is my work, luckily that's fun but, I did not go to college to live with my parents and work only to pay Uncle Sam and Aunt Fanny. The point of all this is to say I'm not a sit at home pot head, I bust my tail. I so wanted a boyfriend but it is hard to meet someone when you need to work 60+ hours a week with rarely a full day off just to pay the bills.
Masturbation is my only vice, and is at least a daily vice. I hate cleaning, so my house chore is the laundry. I go once a week and in a couple hours do 6-8 loads of laundry. There would not be enough hours in the day to do it any other way. I don't mind doing laundry, depending on who is there; I grind one out on the corner of the washer while reading some magazine. Occasionally I get to meet other young professionals that found jobs before the bottom dropped out. So that's cool. There are lots to bottom feeders there too, but they keep to themselves most of the time.
I met Kevin and Keith there recently. They're cousins living together to save rent. The day I met them I must have been their first time in the laundry, they had just come from the gym and were all buff and pumped up, they had not brought any laundry detergent and were standing in front of a vending machine that is there. They were clueless. I had not even gotten all my baskets brought in before I took the opportunity to introduce myself. They were stumbling all over each other trying not to look too helpless, but when I pointed out what I paid for detergent compared to what they were about to pay, they caved. Will you help us?
They were truly clueless, I asked them how their moms had not taught them they said the housekeeper always did it, and then they took stuff to the local cleaner, but it was closed for vacation, so they figured they would wing it. They had suits and ties in their bag. It really was comical. I made it clear I was not going to do it for them, and I expected to be taken to a nice dinner as a thank you. They readily agreed.
As they were loading each item I would council light, dark, colour, red they eventually got the hang of it. At the last moment after the washers had been started Keith said 'is it too late for my jacket and pants?' Keith stripped off his warm up jacket and sweat pants. He handed me the jacket while he stripped off his pants. It was damp, with sweat around the collar it smelled a little of his cologne or deodorant it was the sexist smell, not stinky at all. I was a little lost in the moment when he caught me and apologized for it smelling so bad they had just come from the gym. I said it does not smell bad at all. I asked what the cologne was; he said it wasn't cologne but powder. I said I could see why he liked it.
We talked and they helped me. I barely lifted a finger until it came time to fold. I kept their fat out of the fire, and let them use my laundry chemicals. We folded sheets together. We talked about all kinds of stuff. The discussion got around to BF GF stuff Kevin had GF but it was more a friends with benefits, I joked with him that apparently laundry was not a benefit. Keith then piled on calling him a man slut who would lay anything with a boobs and a pulse. Kevin shot back at least I have a girl friend. Keith apparently was I little intimidated by the fast lane that Kevin had adopted. 'Surely you have had a girl friend', I said. 'Not since college, she moved to the Northwest for a job met a guy and got married less than a year after school.' Kevin said, 'Keith kept in touch but the first he knew she was getting married was when he got the wedding invitation.' Keith turned red. Kevin had no sympathy.
There were not enough washers so I ended up doing the last couple loads in a second run. Keith asked if I'd mind running the underwear he was wearing with mine. Kevin punched him and said you can see why he doesn't have a girlfriend. I said, not a problem, but I wanted surf and turf, half jokingly. Keith said done, what night can we do dinner. I said the only evening I have off is Tuesday. He grabbed some clean stuff and ducked into the bathroom. He came out and handed me his very damp tea shirt and stretch boxers and gym shorts.
He said it is all set dinner at the ******* Club Tuesday 8 o clock. This was a private club down town. I had never been there. I'm not sure if it was to be a 'date' or not but opportunities like this don't happen at all in my life. I was really looking forward to being treated like a lady instead of a servant for an evening.
After the boys left I was about to throw his tee shirt and shorts in the wash when I stopped to drink in the scent. It was intoxicating. I could not bring myself to wash the tee shirt.
I nuzzled up close to the machine with my clit grinding on the edge. The machine did its usual fine job of rocking me to readiness, as I immersed myself in Keith's manly scent. I dreamed of being ravished by him. When the spin kicked in I had the most intense orgasm I have ever had in public. There was no hiding it, as I usually do. An old lady commented it looked like I was enjoying doing laundry. Muttered an apology, but she said in a soft tone, that it was the most erotic thing she had seen in a long time, and she would be giving her magic wand a work out as soon as she got home. I used that shirt at least twice a day as inspiration to rub one out until Tuesday.
I was wet all day Tuesday just thinking of what the evening might bring, I rubbed one out in the restroom at work just so I could think straight, and then again in the bath that evening as I was getting ready. Otherwise I might well have jumped him when he came to the door.
I dressed to kill for Tuesday evening. I only have one cocktail dress. I used to wear the skirt short for formal dances at school. I chose a more conservative length for dinner at the club. It is very form fitting either way, and extenuated my long legs. It has a built in bra that I don't need, but it serves the function of an erect nipple cover, which I definitely do need, and allows for an open back that, if I say so myself, shows my well toned back to excellent effect. I wore a garter and hose with a matching black thong. My heels were open toed sandals that I had not worn in two years since college. I did my nails in 'sultry red'.
Keith picked me up in a suit that must have been $600 dollars. And a mohair overcoat that had to cost more than entire wardrobe. Dinner was romantic; by my third glass of wine I was ready for more. More was to come, or shall I say cum. However this story is getting long and I'm getting horny reliving it, so look for act two in a later instalment.