Doing the Laundry

I wrote previously about my roommate, Lily. When my prior roommate unexpectedly moved out, she got a stranger to take over her part of the rent. I didn't know this until I met Lily, who was already moved in.  It was a little awkward living with a strange female, at least for the first couple of weeks.  I got the internship that I applied for.  I was so excited to start my first day of work.  I ran down the stairs, carrying my bag of dirty laudry.  I would stop at the laundramat after work.  I set down the laudry bag, went into the kitchen, grabbed my briefcase from the chair, and left the townhouse (completly forgetting my laundry). I had a great day at work.  When I got into the car to return home, I noticed that I had forgotten my laundry bag.  No matter. I would go home and get it. It was probably a good idea to change out of my suit anyway. When I got home, I went straight upstairs and changed into some jeans.  I came back to the living room only to see Lily sitting on the couch, folding my clean laundry! I felt a wave of horror and embarrassment.  You see, I kind of have an affinity for skimpy underwear.  I like to wear the black bikini style. I guess you could call it a fetish.  Lily had seen me in them before (in my previous story), but it made me feel funny that she was now handling them. She was now holding a pair up, snapping them out straight, rolling them up. "Oh, hi!" she said, looking up. "I saw you forgot your laundry, and I was doing mine anyway, so I just threw them in". "Thanks", I said uneasily. "You didn't have to". "Oh, I don't mind", she said.  "Folding laundry is one of those mundane tasks that clears my head.  It calms me". "Well, thanks", I said, gratefully.  "If you want me to take over..." "Oh, no", she said. "I've got it. Besides, mine are all mixed up in here too". At this moment she was folding a pair of lace panties.  I blushed a bit.  I turned to go to the kitchen. "You could stand to get rid of these, though", she said.  I turned around to see her holding up a ratty old pair of plaid boxers. My mom bought me a three-pack of these for Christmas a few years back. I wore these as a last resort, when it was getting close to laundry day.  I was wearing the third pair now.  I didn't like them.  The fly gaped open. Sometimes during the day, my dick would just slip out of the fly, and lay to rest on the zipper.  Or else they would bunch up in my butt. I preferred something more fitted. "Some women prefer boxers", I suggested. "To each her own," she said, shrugging. "I don't like them.  My brother always wears them.  I hate that saggy baggy look". She half-heartedly folded my boxers, but she looked half-tempted to throw them in the garbage. "Besides," she said. "You look much better in those little black briefs".  My dick jumped a little bit. But I was a little curious about why she like them. I continued the conversation: "Some women don't like those," I said. "They think they're too feminine... too... gay". "Well, we both know you're not gay", she said.  I blushed remembering the raging boner she saw in the kitchen a few days before. "And I've seen you in them.  You don't look feminine. You have a very masculine body". (Keep in mind this was a couple decades ago, and I was a little more fit than in my profile picture). She continued: "My belief is that skimpy clothes on a female makes you a sexy female. Skimpy clothes on a gay man makes him a sexy gay man. Why can't skimpy clothes on a straight man make you a sexy straight man? You look sexy to me". "Really?" I said, half jokingly. "I kept a mental image in my spank tank", she said unabashedly.  "You're not the only one who masturbates around here", she said, winking. Lily had a way of speaking her mind, and she didn't mince words. She frequently made me blush.  Still, I wasn't interested in taking this any further.  She was on the second pair of boxers now. This one had a hole in them, which she brought to my attention by dramatically sticking her finger through them.  Without asking, she threw them across the room into a waste bin. The next pair was a novelty Valentine thong, with lip prints all over them that I got as a joke from an ex-girlfriend. "You were really getting down to the last pair, weren't you?" She joked.  I grabbed them and threw them in the garbage on top of the torn boxers.  Lily laughed. "I'd love to see you in those! You'll have to put on a fashion show!" That night I lay in bed.  I couldn't stop thinking about those feminine hands folding up my bikini briefs.  As I lay there in my flimsy, last possible pair of boxers, I felt my erection grow through the gaping fly. I reached down and stripped them off.  Completely naked, I reached down and grasped ahold of my warm penis.  I gently rubbed it, with soft, short strokes, feeling it grow in my hand. It was nice just to feel it thicken and grow. I grabbed my balls in my left hand, fondling them as I stroked my taint with my pinky. I was now stroking the length of my cock. I was trying to be quiet, though. Our bedroom shared one wall, and I didn't know whether she was asleep or not.   It was feeling goood. Soon, it was so intense that I found it difficult to be quiet.  Despite my efforts, the bed springs started to creak a little.  My breathing got heavier, and my dick was making a slap slap slap sound. God I hoped she didn't hear. But now it was too late. I was ready to come. I reached for my ratty boxer shorts, and cupped them over the swollen head of my penis, just as the thick goo started to jet out. I came hard and messy into my shorts.  I cleaned off my dick with the boxers and threw them in the garbage. Maybe Lily would get an urge to take out my garbage, and would find my mess? I lay there naked, drowsy from the release, and ready to sleep. As I drifted off to sleep, I heard the soft sound of moaning and the creak of bed springs on the other side of the wall. Good night, Lily, I thought to my self, smiling.