Standard disclaimer:
This story is about two guys having sex. If you are under the age of 18 or 21 depending on your community's stadards, you must not read this story. Anyone else, please grab your roll of paper towels.
The Laundry Guy
by BladerIowa@aol.com
I don't usually go to laundromats. They're nearly always hot and humid during the summer months and crowded with people. Nearly everything I own I can wash at home with the exception of my king size comforter. For this reason I have to take a trip to the local laundromat periodically.
This warm afternoon, I decided the comforter needed to be cleaned. I stuffed the bedding into the car and headed to town to run some errands and wash the big blanket. As the afternoon wore on, I nearly forgot the main reason I had driven into town. On the edge of the city there is a small laundromat. It's kind of a dumpy place and is located next to a trailer court. Strategically placed, I guess. Most people that frequent a laundromat are either of a lower income level or simply don't have a place to put laundry equipment.
When I pulled up I was surprised to only see one car parked in front of the laundromat. I entered the building and looked to see who was there. A really cute guy of about 22 or 23 was there with his girlfriend. I glanced around and located the big Wascomat washer I was needing to use.
"And don't forget to keep the whites separate," his girlfriend whined. "And don't over-suds the laundry like you always do. You always use too much soap and it makes me break out."
"Okay," he replied. "I'll do it right."
"No, I'm serious," she insisted. "I have to meet my parents and I want to know if I leave you to do this you're not going to ruin any more of my clothes."
"I won't," he promised. "I'll be careful. What time are you going to come back and pick me up?"
"I don't know. It depends on if their plane is late. You might have to carry the laundry home by yourself."
"I can't carry three bags of laundry," he said. "It's too heavy to carry that far."
"Call a cab!" she snapped. "I have to go and I don't have time to sit here and argue with you. Bye!"
With that she hurried out of the laundrymat.
"Fuckin' bitch," he muttered. Then he looked up at me.
"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "I shouldn't have said that."
"Hey," I said. "I agree one hundred percent. Why do you take that crap from her?"
"She's my girlfriend," he said. "I cut her some slack when she gets like that. By the way my name's Mitch Michaels."
Mitch stuck his slightly dirty hand out and I shook it. I sure liked the way he looked. Standing about 5 feet 9 inches tall and not more than 145 lbs, Mitch was pretty trim. He had on a yellow tank and a pair of those nylon mesh shorts that really show off a guy's bulge. Mitch had a goatee like so many of the younger guys are wearing these days. When he shook hands with me, I saw a tuft of underarm hair flash in front of me. I could smell a slight stench of armpit odor. My dick jumped. This guy, for being what I would call "white trash", was a hot little number.
"I'm David Brenneman," I said. "Nice to meet you. Glad I don't have to come home and hear that."
"Yeah, but I'm sure your wife gives you hell, doesn't she?" he asked.
"Not married," I replied. "I've seen too many people ruin their lives that way."
"I hear ya," Mitch said. "But I love her. At least I tell myself that. She's just been really bitchy lately. You'd think I'd need to use the a pry bar to get her legs open."
Mitch started loading a couple of washers as we talked. I watched to see if he was separating the colors and the whites. He was doing just fine. Why she was berated him, I couldn't figure out. Some straight guys are clueless idiots, but this one wasn't.
"What was that bitching all that about?" I asked. "You're doing fine."
"I dunno," he said. "She rags like that a lot."
"There's a term for that," I said. "It's called mental abuse. In the old days that used the word 'nagging.' It's still verbal abuse."
"I guess so," Mitch said. "But when she's horny, she's pretty hot. It makes up for it."
"How often is that?" I inquired.
"Not as often as it used to be. And getting a lot less often," Mitch added.
"That happens," I responded. "It only gets worse if they get knocked up or get a ring. Hey, watch the colors Mitch."
"Thanks, dude," he said pulling the red shirt out of the washer full of whites, "That would have bled too. She would have had my ass for it."
I glanced down when he said that. I'd gladly let him ruin my clothes for a piece of that lean little ass of his. Even just a taste would be nice, I thought.
"Shit!" he exclaimed. "She didn't put my gym clothes in here."
"Bummer," I said. "I always have at least two sets."
"This is my other set," he said. "The other set is soaking wet with sweat. She left them at home and she knew they needed washed. Goddammit that makes me mad!"
"Can you wash those?" I asked.
"Yeah right! Stand here fucking naked?" he exclaimed.
"Sorry." I muttered.
"No, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to yell at you."
Mitch peeled off his shirt and threw it in the washer. I looked over at his chest. Nicely sculpted and lean, he was not overly muscular, but not scrawny either. Nice and firm and hairless except for a dark trail of fur just below his belly button.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's cool."
"I just meant that if I wash these shorts, I'll be bare-assed naked. That wouldn't be so bad if I was at home, but not here."
"I have a towel in the car," I volunteered. "It's big enough to wrap around you."
"Cool," Mitch said. "Can I use it for an hour or so?"
"Let me get it. You're welcome to it."
With that I went to the car and grabbed my favorite dark green towel. I normally used it for drying off after a shower at the health club. I hoped it didn't smell too much like a sweaty gym. I walked back in and handed the towel to Mitch.
"Thanks man," he said. "Be right back." Mitch walked over to the bathroom, dashing my hopes of ever seeing him naked. A few minutes later he walked out, shorts in hand and grinning.
Throwing them into the washer, he slammed the lid and started putting money in the washers he was going to use.
"Are you using soap?" I asked quietly.
"Oops." he said. "She'd really be pissed about that." He poured a generous amount of soap in the washer.
"Be careful," I cautioned. "They use softened water and it doesn't take much soap."
"Right-o. Think this will piss her off?" he asked, dumping even more soap in the washer.
"Jesus," I said. "That's enough soap to wash three or four loads."
"Don't use so much soap!" I said, imitating her nagging, "I'll break out!"
"Pity" Mitch said and we both laughed.
"So what are we going to do for an hour?" he asked.
"I dunno. It's going to take my bedding at least that long to dry." I said.
"So you said you aren't married?" he asked. "How old are you?"
"Thirty-four," I responded.
"Shit. That's old. Well, not that old, but for having kids, it's kind of now or never isn't it?"
"I don't want any," I replied. "I'm not into the family thing. I will never get married."
"I probably shouldn't," Mitch said. "She's pressuring me to do it. I like just going to the gym, toning the bod, and partying."
"Looks like that toning is paying off. I'm that way too; I like to work out and party a lot. Why settle down? If I want to play around a little, I'm not hurting anyone but myself. If you're not sure you want to be with her, don't do it. Take my advice. Otherwise it will cause you unbelievable amounts of stress and will take your paycheck for the next twenty years."
"Good point," Mitch said. "So if you haven't gotten married, what do you do for sex, if I might ask?"
"I've had my fair share," I said. "Admitedly it's usually alone, but I've been able to get around a little too. My philosophy is to just go with it and if the opportunity is there, I take it."
"That's cool," he said holding up his right arm. "I haven't gotten any for a few days now while she's been on the rag and it sucks. I can't even get her to blow me. If it wasn't for my right hand, I'd go nuts." He looked kind of sheepish.
"I hear ya," I said. "There's nothing like a good hot blowjob, but spanking the monkey is a helluva good substitute."
By now the machines were vibrating as the agitators were pulling the clothes through the soapy water. It seemed to be taking forever. Inside a laundromat, time slows down to a crawl. Even with this cute boy there, it seemed to be taking forever.
"Hey David, you want a Pepsi?" he asked, jumping off the counter he was sitting on. "I'm going to get me one."
"Yeah, that sounds good. I could use one." I watched Mitch walking over to the pop machine. Though I'm no slouch, he sure looked nice in my towel. As he returned with a can in each hand, the towel loosened up and fell to the floor just ten feet away from me. Mitch was standing in all of his glory. His body was predictably lean everywhere. His pubes were neatly trimmed and his cock, perfectly shaped and about four inches long were staring me in the face.
"Oops," he said. Mitch set the cans of pop down, covered his groin, and grabbed the towel. He wrapped it around his narrow waist and tucked it in securly.
"Sorry about that," he said.
"Don't worry about it," I replied. "You have a beautiful body and you should not be ashamed for people to see it."
"Are you gay?" he asked.
"Well, I don't believe in absolutes, but I do like young mens' bodies. If that makes me a fag, than the answer is yes."
"I thought you might be," Mitch volunteered. "When I saw you look, I knew it for sure."
"So you don't mind gay people?" I asked.
"I know a bunch of them at the gym I go to. Some of them are assholes, but some are cool like you. I saw you looking at my crank. Did you like what you saw?"
"Yes," I replied. "It was very nice."
"Cool." Mitch said. "I don't mind if a guy gets his jollies looking at my dick."
"Mitch, I can't believe how your girlfriend treats you. Tell me if I'm going too far, but you are really good looking. If I were your age and I was a girl, I'd treat you with respect. I'd give you all the sex you could want. In short, I would love to be with a guy like you and I hate to see women treat men like shit."
"So what do you like to do?" Mitch asked. "Fuck guys in the butt?"
"Much more than that," I replied. "I love to lick and suck their cocks and lick their balls and asses. When I'm with a guy, I always get my man off even if I don't get to cum. I love to please the guy. I can't even begin to describe what I can do."
"Man, if I could only get my girlfriend to do that. What I wouldn't do to get a blowjob. She refuses to do that because... well... I precum."
"Mitch, that's nothing to ashamed of." I said. "I precum too. It's normal. In fact, I like the taste of a guy precumming. To tell you the truth, I'm starting to leak a little."
"Me too," he grinned. "I've had a boner since the towel fell off."
"Mitch," I started, "Can I ask you something?"
"What is that?"
"Can I help you out with your problem?"
"Huh?" he asked.
"Can I suck your cock?"
"No way man. I'm not going to cheat on Carrie."
"Okay," I suggested. "Wanna jack off together? I could sure go for busting a nut right about now."
"Okay, I can do that," he said. "Not out here though. The bathroom?"
I jumped off the folding table I'd been sitting on, my slacks tented out from my eight inch pole. Mitch and I headed for the men's restroom. Once inside, we locked the door. I opened my slacks and pulled my dripping, fat prick out. Mitch undid the towel and his prick popped up. It was an average six inches in length, but had a nice thickness to it. It was neatly circumsized and free from any moles or large veins. In short, it was a work of art.
"Nice dick," I said. "It's beautiful."
"Ya think so?" he asked. "It's not as big as that whopper you've got."
We both started stroking our boners. I could hear the slick sounds of his hand sliding up and down this leaking dick.
"Damn," I muttered. "I wish I could taste that precum."
Mitch pinched the knob of his cock and a bead of juice formed on the tip of his dick. He transferred the bead to his index finger and, grinning, offered me a taste. I leaned over and took his entire finger into my mouth.
"MMMMM" I moaned as I tasted his sweet juice on my tongue.
"Ya like that?" he asked.
"I loved it," I replied. "Oh, I want to taste your cock and ass so bad Mitch. I'd do anything if you'd please let me lick them."
"I can't do it back," he whined. "I just can't."
"I know," I said softly as I looked into his eyes and sank to my knees. "Trust me and I will make you feel good. You don't have to do anything back."
I knealt in front of Mitch's beautiful organ. His eyes opened wide as I opened my mouth and slowly engulfed his penis. Mitch moaned loudly.
"MMMM. That feels so good," he groaned. "I'd forgotten how good it can be."
After mouthing his prick for a few seconds, I felt him tighten up. I abruptly pulled off his cock.
"Man, you shouldn't have stopped. I was gonna pop a nut."
"Be patient," I said. "The best is yet to come. I'm only going to use my tongue so don't be afraid. Now turn around and get your legs apart."
Mike turned around and leaned over the sink. His milky white buns were in stark contrast to the rest of his tan. He gripped the sink and put his feet wide apart. I knelt behind the young man and slowly brought my face to the sculpted buns before me. I took a tentative lick.
Mitch moaned loudly and I whispered a reminder for him to keep quiet. There was no way to know who might have come into the laundromat. The moan spurred me on. I dove into his ass, my tongue on a mission to find his pucker and stab it with kisses. Saliva poured down my tongue, bathing his private entrance. When my tongue discovered the flesh of his rosebud, I started tongue-fucking his hole. Mitch thrust his ass against my face, ramming his butt against my mouth. My hands roamed over his body as my tongue pierced his ass. Pausing to take a breather, I pulled my face out of his sweaty ass.
"Fuck that was awesome!" Mitch exclaimed. He turned and faced me with his dick. Mitch's cock had turned an angry shade of red and pre-cum was streaming down the shaft.
"Dude, finish it for me, PLEASE! I need it real bad" he begged.
I again sank to my knees and started sucking on his knob. This time, instead of controlling the movement, I guided his hand to his prick, sucking just the knob into my mouth. Mitch caught on and started stroking his dick. My right hand started exploring under his balls. As his hand started moving faster and faster up and down the shaft, my finger slipped into this wet crack and started poking around Mitch's pucker.
Mitch emitted a loud groan as my finger slid into his ass. He lurched forward and taking his hand off his cock, he shoved the length of his prick down my throat. With one last moan, he announced "I'm cumming!" and his dick began to twitch.
As his knob swelled even more, Mitch started unloading into my mouth. He moaned loudly after every ejaculation, six of them in all. I swallowed as much of his cum as I could, but I still couldn't take it all. Mitch's semen was unusually smooth and creamy, like icing on a cake. Exhausted, we both collapsed on the floor.
"Dude, that was great," Mitch said. "I've been needing that for so long. I wish I could repay the favor. I just can't right now."
"I know," I said. "Don't worry about it."
We both made ourselves presentable and walked back out to the washing machines.
"It's okay Mitch," I said. "Like I said, you needed to get your cock sucked and I was happy to do it. Let me give you my card."
I reached into my wallet and pulled out a business card.
"Call me, Mitch. Call me and let's get together. Don't worry about returning the favor. I'm happy just to get to satisfy you. But don't let her ruin your life. She's not worth it."
"I won't man. Thanks. Hey, our washers are done spinning."
I'd forgotten all about my bedding.
"Looks like we've got at least another half hour to kill while this shit dries," Mitch observed. He kind of smirked at me.
"So what do you want to do?" I asked.
"Return the favor," said Mitch, groping himself through the towel.
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If you liked this story, please let me know at BladerIowa@aol.com