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Laundry Day

Category: Group Sex
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The hum from the washing machines was a chorus of white noise drowning out the street sounds, the wail of sirens in the distance, the crazy-looking homeless man shouting profanities two doors up the sidewalk and the god-awful street rapper free-styling just outside the door of the 50 Cent Washeteria.

It’s not that John didn’t like some hip-hop, but this guy just sucked. And he was spitting rhymes in front of the “50 Cent Washeteria” of all places.

“A little on the nose isn’t it?” John had mumbled to himself as he passed the guy on his way into the self-serve Laundromat for his weekly ritual.

John was tired from a long day of sifting through the muck of the city cops beat, a job he had landed two years ago. Of course, “landed” might be the wrong word. He fell into with all the grace of a drunken frat boy after his first keg party, not that he would know what that was like.

John had always thought of himself as too independent to join a fraternity during his college days. God, what would he give to go back and make some more contacts so he could get out of his shit hole of a newspaper. Say what you will, but the guys who debased themselves in Gonna Kappa Squat, or whatever they were called, had the connections to jump ahead in their respective fields.

But John was trying to shove all of that into the darkness of the back of his mind as he listened to the gush of the washing machines and the ka-plump, ka-plump, ka-plump of the dryers rolling clothes over and over again.

He had brought along a book to avoid being board, but the selection might have been a mistake. “Vox” was not necessarily public reading material. The book, chronicling a man and woman’s shall we say “private” telephone conversation, from curious start to moaning, writhing finish, had distressed the front of his pants so much that he had had to readjust himself twice already. And as the book’s female voice articulated one of her latest fantasies to her phone buddy, John thought he was going to have to either put the book down or go find a quite spot to relieve some of the tension in his boxers.

Of course, that was a measure of last resort. He had always found the idea of people who masturbated in public places off-putting to say the least.

“Bunch ‘a fucking perverts,” Rob Davison, a patrol officer from the Fifth Precinct had remarked as he had told John a story of a businessman he had to drag out of a stall in the bus station a couple of nights ago. “I mean, who can’t hold out ’til you get home? Am I right?”

“Well I guess he’s who,” John had joked back.

And now, here he was, with his manhood making a sizable bulge in his jeans, thinking he might be “who” too.

Of course, even if he wanted to, there were complications. Carla was there.

Carla, who he had dated briefly a few months ago after they met at the Laundromat. Carla, who knew all too well what John’s slightly embarrassed glances in her direction meant. Carla, who had turned him onto “Vox” in the first place.

He and Carla had run their course, but John always had a way of keeping women as friends after the inevitable “where is this going” conversation. Hell, even when he didn’t want them around, they were still around.

But just as Carla caught him checking out her butt for the second time, John started thinking it might be nice to have Carla around right now.

She smiled and said, “take a picture, it will last longer.”

“I did, but you told me those were ‘not for public consumption,’ didn’t you?” John retorted, giving her his best wolfish grin.

“You better believe it buddy boy,” she said with a laugh and hopped on a dryer in front of him. “And it looks like you are thinking about that photo session right now. No wrinkles in those jeans.”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about it until now,” he said. “But now I will have that to contend with too. I don’t think this boner is going away anytime soon. Damn you for lending me this book.”

“I’d ask if you like it, but the evidence is apparent,” she said. God did she look hot in her Capri shorts and “rock star” baby-t, with her wavy red hair flowing down over her left shoulder and her bright blue bedroom eyes.

“So how far are you into the book?” she asked.

“I am to the point where the woman is telling him about her painter fantasy,” he said. “God I love the thought of a woman filled up.”

And as soon as he said it, he regretted it. What kind of pervert was she going to take him for? They had had sex, taken a few pictures, had a few laughs. But multiple partners had never come up, and he just knew she was going to give him one of those disgusted glances most women did when you brought up such things. But …

“Mmmmmm, me too,” she said and made an almost imperceptible shift on top of the dryer, which John just realized she was running.

“I had no idea you were into that,” John said, thinking about the vibrations the dryer was making on her tight little ass. He figured she must have picked out her spot from prior experience. No planning needed. “Well, Johnny-boy, there is a lot you don’t know about me,” she said and there was a mischievous look in her eyes. It was the same one she had when she first spotted the digital camera loaned from work. “Like, did you know I’ve always wanted to fuck in public?”

That got John’s attention.

“I suppose I could have,” she continued. “Lord knows all I would have to do is ask a guy and he would drop his pants for me on the street, right? Never have though. Too bad, huh?”

That was a challenge and John knew it. But he didn’t want to screw this chance up by misreading it. “Yep, I guess it is,” he said, mock-casually. “So, if you wanted to do that, say, I don’t know, here, how would you go about that?”

Her grin was widening.

“Well, I would want to find someplace a little more secluded, like, um, that closet over there,” she said, pointing to a big wooden door near the back. “I bet that has room to maneuver and we, I mean this hypothetical guy and I, would be close enough to the world outside to feel naughty and just out of the public eye, so no one called the cops.”

John wondered how she knew it was a closet in the corner, but put that thought out of his mind pretty quickly when she started biting her lower lip in the sly, flirty way all horny women think is subtle, but is an obvious tell. The spin cycle on that dryer was making her feel pretty good, John guessed.

“Really,” John said, nodding his head. “Well, it sounds like you and your hypothetical man could have some fun.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh, “but it is all just theory right now. Maybe I should check that door to see if it is locked. That could spoil all my fun. Maybe you should come with me. I might need a hand – or something.”

John, a little too eager, was on his feet quickly. And as he reached to help her off the dryer, his hands closed around her waist to find those toned abs of hers clenched tightly.

She led him by one finger to the door at the rear of the Laundromat, wiggling her ass the whole way. She knew she was working it and she was determined to get what she wanted.

She reached down, turned the knob and pushed the door into darkness.

“Maybe we should check out the accommodations,” she said, flipping her hair around to see John looking squarely at her ass. She smiled when he looked up.

“Maybe,” John said, doing his best to stay multi-syllabic.

The two walked into the closet, which, although tight, gave them enough room to move about, with Carla bumping the door closed “on accident.”

“Oops,” she said. “Now we are in here, so I guess this is enough scouting for when me and Mr. Hypothetical have our opportunity.”

John, still thinking this might be an elaborate tease Carla had prepared, spoke his first full sentence in about two minutes.

“Well, um, purely in the interest of helping Mr. Hypothetical, we should probably make sure there is enough room to, um … Oh, fuck it,” he said.

And with that, he kissed her hard on the mouth, while simultaneously reaching around to cup her left ass cheek in his greedy hand. Then, sliding his hand down her thigh and back to himself, he lifted her leg to his hip and they both leaned back to the shelf where the janitor kept all of his cleaning supplies. That was all the encouragement she needed. Her hungry mouth sucked in his tongue like he had the antidote and the two explored each other with their hands, squeezing here and there, sliding along one another’s backs and butts.

John broke the kiss just long enough to say “God you are so hot. What took us so long to get in here?” “I don’t know,” she said, “but they say ‘good things come to those who wait.'”

And reaching to unzip his fly, she revised, “Or is it, ‘good things come on those who wait,'” and he could feel her smiling at him in the dark.

“Let’s find out,” he said, helping her pull his dick out.

She ran her slender fingers up his shaft to the head, which was dripping with pre-cum now, after such a long lead-up. His cock, which almost hurt being locked up in his jeans felt so good now that it was out and in her hands.

She was quite skilled, John remembered, at sucking cock. And boy did he remember right.

Carla dropped to her knees and began to work on his 10-inch member, sliding her tongue along the shaft, working her way to the head, which for the moment she rubbed pre-cum all over with her index finger. When she reached it, she inhaled the head and a good four inches to boot, allowing her tongue to roll around along the bottom of it.

She began to bob her head forward, forcing the cock deeper into her mouth, rhythmically massaging his length with her lips. She really enjoyed the feeling of his meat in her mouth, and tasting the pre-cum, she was getting wetter by the second.

Just to check, though, she undid her shorts with her left hand and reached down to feel her own warmth. It felt good to pay attention to her clit.

But she wanted to make sure John was good and primed first, so she took her finger out of her pants and returned her hand to his cock, stroking it just in front of her mouth. She tightened her grip as she stroked and listened to his moaning.

Wait a second. It wasn’t just John’s moaning she heard. There was something else. And as she slowed her rhythm, John began to hear it too.

They both opened their eyes which had been closed against the darkness and saw a band of light coming from the open door. There was a shadow inside the door. They saw the shadow moving its arm and heard it lowly moaning “Yeah, suck him.”

They both stopped cold and as their noise ceased, the shadow’s arm did as well.

“What the fuck are you doing in here,” John almost yelled, not really noticing that his cock was still out with Carla’s hand wrapped around it. Carla, too, was so surprised that she didn’t even get off her knees. The shadow spoke.

“Hey man, settle down,” it said, huskily. “I had come in to talk to Carla and didn’t see anyone in the mat waiting area. I heard something in here, so I decided to check it out. And when I opened the door, there you two were, going at it.”

John recognized the voice, he thought. Who the fuck was this?

“I decided to watch with the light from the door,” he said. “I just couldn’t help myself. Hell, Carla always liked it when I watched her fuck herself with, what did she call it, ‘Viber’? And she really liked teasing me with that girl Shirley.”

John was still in the dark, both literally and figuratively, but Carla had figured out who he was after his second sentence. Ron. It was the street rapper.

She had dated him for a while a couple of years before and boy did he have a cock she liked. Thick. Veiny. And long.

An idea sparked in her mind, and she uttered the words, almost without thinking about them. “Come on in,” she breathed on John’s cock, which was growing limp in her hands. “What …?” John started. But she stopped him.

“Hey,” she said, all coyness out of her speech. This was a more forceful Carla. “I want him here too. If you can’t handle it, you can go.”

And then, with a little of the playful sluttiness back in her voice, she added “Besides, you said you liked the thought of a woman filled up.”

He was still unsure, but his dick jumped at that thought.

“Well, I guess that is the way it will have to be,” he said, and then to Ron, “Welcome aboard.”

Ron was already on his way in, his now half-hard cock flopping back and forth, forgetting to close the door. By the time he got to Carla, though, his rigor had returned. As she began to stand, he pulled her top up over her perky B-cup breasts, unguarded by a bra. She rarely wore a bra Ron loved that about her.

He left her top on, lifting in only high enough to get to her nipples, which were rock hard. He pulled the right one into his mouth with a motion that would have tickled her breast had she not been in a thrall. His tongue worked over her nipple like an expert. He had prided himself in that, remembering Ice Cube’s words , “I flip my tongue like a dike.”

At the same time, John had moved to Carla’s shorts, pulling down the already unfastened Capri pants onto the floor, where she stepped out of them. No panties to worry about. Another one of her little habits.

John buried his face in her pussy, cleanly shaven, hot and wet. She was like a river and her musky taste almost made John blow right there. Well, that and his right hand which was stroking his now fully erect cock. The left hand had worked between her legs and up to her ass, which he squeezed as she thrust her hips forward, moaning from the combined attention being paid her.

She was in the grip of ecstasy, her knees getting weak and almost collapsed at least once. It might have been more, but everything was a blur now.

She had almost collapsed twice actually, and would have had it not been for John’s arm and mouth supporting her. John was in complete control of her now. She was grinding to the rhythm of his licking, her pussy intoxicating with the taste that only a seasoned muff-diver knows.

He explored every curve of her inner labia with his tongue, working his way to her clit and back again. John sucked her completely engorged love-button into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth. He felt the shiver that caused in her.

It felt so good, in fact, that Carla stopped stroking Ron’s cock as she reveled in the feeling. Ron, who was now massaging her left nipple with his mouth, noticed and pulled away long enough to whisper in her ear, “I want you to suck me.”

That did it. Carla went over the edge and curled her toes in her open-toed, low-slung shoes as she came. She jolted forward and shoved John’s face deeper into her groin and grabbed a handful of hair as her voice exploded into an “uugghh.”

His face was washed with her cream.

She pulled him away from her pussy and said, “John I want you to fuck me.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice. He rose up quickly, trailing his hand between her ass cheeks and her vertical lips, bumping her clit as he went. With his right hand he reached behind her and bent her forward at the waist. She was happy to do it, and guided Ron’s cock into her mouth as she bent down. She gave it all the attention she had given John’s and more, taking it in deeply and massaging his balls with her right hand as she pumped his rod with whole mouth, working her tongue along his shaft, her cheeks caving in because of the suction she was creating.

Meanwhile, John had found her pussy wet, warm and inviting. He slid his fleshy spear into her and almost blew right then.

A little thought about baseball though and was fine as he started to rock his hips forward into her, burying him deeply into her. She took him without hesitation, grinding herself back against him and humming “Mmmmm” with her mouth wrapped around Ron’s meat pole.

John felt so good inside her that he forgot all about baseball, not to mention any other thoughts in his head. He pumped away, feeling her warmth around him.

He wanted to feel himself all the way in her, so he grabbed her hips and pushed hard. She let out an “Mmpphh,” but kept moving to he music their sweaty bodies were making, all three of them, slapping, slurping and moaning in unison.

“Fuck me like you want to break me,” she roared back at him, taking her mouth away from Ron, just long enough to get the words out.

It was another challenge, and John wasn’t going to let it pass. He buried his cock into her deeper still, pounding away like a jackhammer until Carla couldn’t focus on what she was doing and again lost track of Ron’s dick.

“Damn man, girl can’t concentrate,” Ron said with a chuckle, that only slightly betrayed his annoyance. “Sorry man, why don’t you have a go on this end,” John said, barely breaking his stride. He was really into this Chinese finger cuff action, but he had better ideas.

So did Carla, who ordered Ron onto the ground. There was no doubt she was in charge.

She mounted him like a cowgirl riding her first wild bronc, and commenced to riding him as such. She was a reverse cowgirl to be exact, with Ron’s balls for a riding horn. Instead, she chose John’s cock, which was now in front of her, begging to be sucked.

John was catching his breath. But as soon as she drew him into her mouth he lost it again. Carla was concentrating on Ron’s cock though and she was working toward cumming again. Man, why hadn’t she done this before, she thought.

As her body was filled with the tingling warmth of her second orgasm of the night, she more or less sprayed Ron’s groin with her cum.

“OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” she screamed loud enough for anyone within a block to hear if it hadn’t been for the few washing machines still running.

John, who had been stroking his cock only hard enough to keep his erection, decided now was the time to go for the crowning achievement of his night. He reached down to his pants, which had been around his ankles this entire time, into the left front pocket and pulled out a condom he always kept on him “just in case.”

He had never needed it before, but it was time to break it out. It wasn’t about safe sex now. He had thrown that out the window a while ago. No, this rubber was lubricated, and he planned to make use of it. Carla was still pumping away and John told her to turn around. Carla was in a state of bliss she had felt only once before without any chemical aids – the first time she had tasted another woman’s sex – and was very pliable to his demand.

She switched positions and had begun grinding into Ron that way when she felt John’s wet index finger start working on her back door. She started a little at the feeling of the cold wetness, but warmed up to the idea really quickly. She said she wanted to be filled and by God, she was going to. She leaned forward to give John complete access to her ass, which he used to push on her tight little pucker.

“You want me in there don’t you,” he whispered to her.

“Yessssssss,” she breathed as she ground back into his finger, allowing her clit to rub against Ron’s shaft. She squeezed her sugar walls around his meat to make sure he was still enjoying himself, but all she could think about was John’s cock in her ass.

She didn’t have to think long. John had the condom on in a flash and spit onto her brown-eye to give it a little more lube before he began pressing the head against it. He had fucked her ass before. It was after the photo session in fact, but this was going to be different.

He spread her cheeks as wide as he could and told Ron to hold still while he got situated. Ron was not wild about being this close to John, but hell, he was just glad to have this hot girl riding him. If she wanted him in her ass, then he guessed that was how it was going to be.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he heard Carla moan again and felt her grow tighter around him. Something was taking up room in her rear.

John began to rock forward and Ron figured it was OK to move again. Carla too, with eyes rolled back into her head from pain/pleasure, pushed back on both of them. And with that, the settled into a rhythm of ungodly lust.

She bit her lip so hard she thought it might bust. But that didn’t matter because she was full. She had always wondered what it would be like, and now it was happening. She ached, but in the best way imaginable. She was blind with lust and now the only thought she could muster was thoughts of cumming again, which she did, again, and again, and again.

“This was the way to fuck,” she said to herself. “The only thing that would be better would be to have another cock in my mouth.”

And just as she thought it, the door opened in front of her and a silhouette stood in the doorway. It moved forward, and she heard the zipper come down. The rustling of what sounded like silk boxers was followed by a bulbous head flopping against her left cheek and a husky voice telling her to suck. The door closed behind the silhouette

She couldn’t resist. She didn’t know this guy from Adam, but it was a cock, even if it was a little short for her liking. She took it all the way in, allowing the boys in the back to provide the propulsion. She reached up and cupped the phantom man’s balls, then moved her mouth forward so that his cock was completely engulfed. If it had been longer, it would have choked her.

Heaven. That is the closest thing she could think of, and enjoyed the feeling of three cocks pumping into her at once.

“Every hole,” she thought. “Every hole.”

And she came again. By this time, Ron and John had about all they could take. They were ready to cum like gods, although neither of them knew the other was about to drop his load.

So, it was a surprise to all of them when Ron, John, and Mr. Silhouette all popped at once. Mr. Silhouette hadn’t learned the baseball trick most men do to hold off.

Carla was so inundated with streaming, steaming cum blasting inside her that she came again too. It was her seventh orgasm of the night, but it was by far her best, sucking down Mr. Silhouette’s man juice and collapsing with Ron and John into a pile on the floor, spent.

Only Mr. Silhouette remained standing, if a bit wobbly. The three fuck buddies on the floor barely noticed when he zipped his slacks and leaned on the doorframe, turning the knob.

It wasn’t until he spoke again that any of them took notice, all still tingling from the earth shattering orgasms they had just experienced.

“Hey John, you shouldn’t park your car so far from the curb,” Mr. Silhouette said in a voice too familiar to leave John with any comfort. “Oh, and be glad I was the one who found you tree. Anybody else would have dragged you in.”

The light blinded the now worn-out, and still entangled, threesome as Mr. Silhouette opened the door. “Bunch a fucking perverts,” he said with a little laugh. “Bunch a fucking perverts.”

And he shut the door behind him.

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