When you live in a small complex of apartments like Cassy does, you know that the communal laundry room is awkward if you have to share. The people of her building had a system which showed up one day, people talked and figured out their own day and time were they can be alone or have company with another person if the other person wanted it while taking care of their clothes. This system has been thriving for years, ever since she lived there. Her day was Thursday, right after work at 5:30pm. She was a high school teacher so she always had to stay after school, and Thursday was the day that was usually light since she always made things due Thursday instead of Friday. Wednesday would be when students came after school to cram or ask for help, then she’d test them on Thursday, give them more time after school (which two or three did.) finish grading while they worked, and came home to finish the rest of the papers while laundry was going. It was a simple solution for her, and she could give students back their test on Friday so they had the weekend to study for retakes after school Monday. It all worked out.
That was before he moved in. It was a Saturday, Cassy was tidying up randomly when she heard the bumps of someone moving into the empty apartment across the hall. She groaned to herself, hating the thought of all the awkward pleasantries associated with new neighbors. She looked out the peephole in the door to see what they would look like, trying to decide now whether or not they would be any trouble later on by just a glance. Though she is not the judging type, she mostly judged objects like tests, assignments, book titles, and the labels of closed boxes along with size of stereo speakers the man was pushing past the door frame on the other side of the wall. He was a handsome guy from what she saw out of the curved glass. Based off of the standard door frame that they all shared, he was a good 5’11”, maybe taller, short brown hair and a pierced ear. Fairly built with a cute and shapely butt that was hugged in well-fitting jeans, he would not be counted anything less than handsome. Once he turned around she saw his boyish brown eyes and professional looking, wire framed glasses and knew he was out of her league.
She didn’t think she was much, she didn’t have to, for her profession. It wasn’t like she dressed for the students in her classes to ogle at her. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt were all she really needed or had in her closet, except for the one blue dress that she wore on interviews or weddings. Hell, she still had the same pair of grey and purple Vans from when she was in high school. She is on the small side at 5’3”, always known as the chubby girl in her class, with the large hips and bust and a small curve that was her waist, her stomach pudged out slightly then dipped down to large thighs that are still smaller than her hips, down to tiny feet. Her arms were always chubby, that was what the women in her family were known for, that and large breasts. She assumed she wasn’t so bad looking, probably even cute with her shoulder length, curly black hair, or her bluish/greenish eyes that popped under the black glasses she wore with the right amount of eyeliner and mascara, she didn’t believe her pouty mouth didn’t draw attention. No matter how much she thought of herself, she was only pretty in her eyes. She watched him move the last of his stuff in, concluding that from what she saw that he would be a quiet neighbor, and they wouldn’t have many issues, then concluded that she should stop watching him due to that being frowned upon in society. He closed the door finally with a soft thud and she went back to her cleaning, not knowing what else to do on a Saturday evening.
Several weeks passed and she never meet her handsome neighbor, nor did she watch him again. They shared the elevator to their floor once and never said a word, she was too entranced with the novel she was reading to comprehend that someone was with her until his hand hit hers for the button. She let him press it and she went on with her day, focusing on the handsome stranger the character was fighting her passion from. Later that week on Thursday, 5:30pm sharp, she entered the laundry room, meeting the sweet familiar scent of generic laundry soap and dryer sheets in the humid air. She had her bag that had the last ten students’ essays and another novel along with a medium sized ball of yarn and needles just for the hell of it. Her first load was in the dryer and she was placing the last load into the warm washing machine when he walked in. At first she tried to pretend he wasn’t there, finishing up, adding soap and pressing the button to start, she returned to her seat and began to read, pleased with her students’ analysis of pre-English Saxon culture when a large hand was in front of her button nose. She looked up over her glasses and saw him sliming politely at her.
“Hello,” his voice was a low rumble, like thunder with a lightning spark of cinnamon on his breath, he must have been chewing strong gum. “We haven’t formally introduced ourselves, I’m Damion.”
She cleared her throat and extended her hand toward his, “Cassy, it’s a pleasure.” Damion’s hand was warm and slightly calloused, but smooth.
“The pleasure is all mine, Cassy.” He began to grin and she was slightly uncomfortable with the sudden socialness of the situation. “I hope you don’t mind,” he began, “but no one seemed to welcome me during their time slot and this is the only one that is compatible with my schedule.” He shrugged, “I hope you don’t mind sharing yours, and the ladies from the first floor said that you would love my company.” She bristled at that, those old bats were worse than her stepfather with always trying to find her a man.
“It’s no problem at all.” She replied coolly, not sure with herself why she agreed to this.
He smiled at her, “Good.”
~
They continued this routine for a few weeks after, each time he tried to get her to talk and smile more, each time he succeeded. Then one day was different, Cassy walked in 5:30pm sharp, expecting Damion a few minutes behind her, to tease her playfully about how his heart stops a bit with each time her “amazing ass sways” while she walks. She has been learning to accept his compliments, even started to dress differently to see if what he said were true. A low cut shirt here, a more form-fitting jeans there, she had even started buying lingerie to indulge the nightly fantasies about him. This day, she was being more daring than her usual shy self, she wore a short black skirt that would have been down to the knees on anyone skinnier, but it barely reached her mid-thighs, which were freshly shaven and smelled of her favorite body wash. The shirt she was wearing was a deep blue and was a bit low cut to show just enough of cleavage for Damion to comment on, but her black lace crotchless panties with matching see-through bra was what excited her most, knowing he’d probably never see them.
She waited, sitting with crossed legs and pretending to read her book as she waited for him, her laundry rumbling in the nearby machines. The longer she waited the more nervous she got, wondering what happened, what did she do. Her first load was in the hamper, and she closed the lid of the dryer for the second load when she felt hands on her hips. She turned to see Damion and his familiar smile so she relaxed until she felt him press his bulging crotch tight against her ass, causing her pale skin to turn pink.
He laughed as he saw her blush flood up her neck to her cheeks and he leaned forward, pressing the start button so the dryer started to rumble and vibrate under her, making her soft flesh shake gently. His hands moved up from her hips to hold her small waist under her shirt where he could feel her vibrating flesh under his palms before sliding his hands down to the hem of her skirt, which had ridden up to right under her large cheeks.
He leaned down so his lips were at her ear as he whispered, “You shouldn’t be wearing those kind of panties when you bend over, dear.” She blushed harder as his hand touched her bare thighs. “Mm,” Damion breathed, feeling her trembling skin under his fingertips. “Do you want this?”
With a slight hesitation, she nodded, legs spreading slightly at his touch, both of them knowing that no one would walk in on them. “Yes,” she breathed, the blush fading away slightly to a soft pink of arousal that coated her cheeks, “I do.”
His lips met her soft neck while his hand reached down over her ass to her panties, his middle finger caressing her already damp slit so her warm juices flowed onto his finger as well as her thighs. The dryer still rocked under them as he pushed her over the machine more, lifting one leg up on top of the lid so he could easily begin pushing his fingers into her virgin hole. His fingering was met with her soft whimpers, and when he dared pushing in a second digit into her slit she nearly came, her sex stretching to accommodate his large fingers.
“God, you’re so tight my little minx, I thought a girl with your mind wouldn’t be so innocent…” His voice growling in her ear as she felt his member twitch and grow larger against her rump, causing her to moan softly.
“I play with myself,” she panted. “But I have never been able to finger myself, too tight, never got wet enough…” Her eyes bulged and she gave off a small cry as she came, her juices squirting onto his palm and over her thighs, her tight walls pulsating around his digits. “Jesus…”
His kisses turned into bites as he fingered her through her orgasm, growling while she whimpered under him, his hand coated with her cum. He brought his hand to his lips and tasted her honey before growling, “Taste yourself dear.” She obliged and began to lick his hand clean, whimpering while he lightly spanked her with his free hand. “How do you taste?”
Once his hand was clean she smiled up at him, “Delicious.” Damion pulled away to undress as Cassy pouted, he took time undressing herself has he admired the look of her black shirt around her waist, her one pink ass cheek glowing at him as her glistening slit pokes out from the crotchless panties. As soon as he was finished he turned her around and she gasped softly at the sight of him, his aching member pointed directly at her, his tattoo on his left shoulder causes her to lick her lips and the hair dusting his chest causes her to shiver with arousal. She lifted her shirt off to expose the see-through lace bra, her areolas the same shade as her now pink ass, her nipples straining through the fabric. “Take me, Damion,” she whimpered, pressing herself wantonly against him, pulling him back to the still rumbling dryer.
“I plan to my sexy minx…” He said, his hand sliding down the straps of her bra then reached behind her to unclip it, letting the lace fall to the floor and her large double D cup breasts tumbling out of their prison, into his palms. Her own hands slip off her panties, exposing the freshly shaven virgin mound, he grinned at her and led her away from the dryer and onto the folding tables, laying her down on her back. She spread her legs for him, he taking her by the knees and lifting them so they rested on his shoulders. Her whimpers grew louder as he teased the tip of his large cock against her clit before moving it down to her hot, soaked snatch. He held her hand before quickly shoving in his shaft, breaking her hymen and stretching her virgin sex. She didn’t cry out, but shed a few tears as she tried to relax, her hand gripping his tightly. After a while he took his hand from hers and reached down to rub her clit, soothing the pain away and bringing chills of pleasure throughout her body. He couldn’t believe how tight she was, it was nearly painful for him to start moving himself in and out of her, but her juices soon began to flow again, coating his cock and allowing him to work in and out with ease. Her sweet whimpers became soft moans, filling the large room along with his growls and the soft slapping of their flesh.
“Please,” she moaned, bucking her hips eagerly against his. “Please, harder…” She begged softly, needing to feel him pound into her. He obliged and leaned forward, her knees now on either side of her breasts as he picked up his speed, thrusting hard into her and causing her large breasts to bounce with the motions of his hips. She moved her legs from his grasp and with a moan, wrapped them around his waist allowing him to dip his head down to the crook of her neck and bite down possessively. Her hands ran up and down his strong back before dragging her nails down, moaning a bit louder as he growled, feeling her tense up under him. They moved against each other for a bit longer, panting and biting while their hips combined in sloppy sounding thrusts before she cried out that she was going to cum. He grinned and fucked her harder, her drenched cunt taking him deeper than before she squirted over his cock, which is still like a piston inside her. “Oh fuck!” Her moans fill his ears as he cums himself, shooting his seed into her, mixing it with her own cum. They lay there, panting, his mouth latching onto her right nipple as they mouth come down from their own heaven. After a few minutes, the dryer stopped, causing Damion to look up from her breasts, her nipple between her teeth. He tugged and it, letting it slap back to where it was originally was and kissed her, grinning boyishly.
“You better go take of that babe, I need to start too.” He winked at her and Cassy blushed, unwrapping her legs from him and letting him pull out, their cum along with a bit of blood leaked down her thighs as she unsteadily got to her feet. With a blush she dipped her hand down to scoop some up and tasted it before cleaning up and putting her clothes on and finishing her laundry. Damion watched, and was surprised when she placed her bra and panties in his basket. With her stuff in hand she kissed his jaw and winked at him before whispering that she expects him to help her fold later, then disappears up the stairs.
The End
**Please tell me what you guys think, this is the first story I’ve actually posted, so be considerate.**