Page 7 of Please and Tease (Sweet Treats 6)

As Andrew and I watch, a ripe curvy girl appears in the doorway of the laundromat. She doesn’t realize we’re here because she’s got AirPods tucked into her ears, and she’s completely focused on the task at hand. Besides, the laundromat is huge, and we’re off in a corner, slightly hidden from view. Meanwhile, the curvy girl takes her basket and plunks it in front of one of the medium-sized machines.

But then, the girl does something that makes both our jaws fall to the floor. Humming sweetly, she leans forward and rummages in her laundry basket for a moment. Then she straightens once more and to our surprise, there’s a huge, black toy in her hand. It must be at least ten inches long, with protruding veins and a thick shaft. The girl’s eyes light up as she looks at it, and while we watch with open mouths, she leans forward to press a delicate kiss to its tip.

Holy shit. Did we really just see that? Is the girl about to get the ride of her life, with us as her unwitting witnesses? There’s only one way to find out.

4

Naomi

Aerosmith blasts in my earbuds and I bop along to the song. Aerosmith is a throwback to the eighties, but I love the group. I have a taste for hardcore rock music, and there aren’t any good bands these days. That’s why I love Steven Tyler and his tendency to scream song lyrics. He gives it his all, that’s for sure.

As my ears fill with Walk This Way, I heave my laundry basket over to a machine in the corner. This machine is my favorite because it’s slightly broken. The clothes get clean just fine, but the machine has a hitch in its churn that feels really good.

But first, my clothes. I flip open the machine, and then reach into my basket to begin pulling out filmy strips of nothing. Here’s my red demi-bra that has Merlin’s saliva on it. The trucker from Westside liked sucking my tips through the fabric, and as a result, it needs a good washing.

Then, there are the pink cotton panties that I wore to my out call with Robert from Louisville. He likes girls who appear innocent, so I kept things simple. I wore 100% cotton panties and a matching tank top to boot. But Robert’s an animal. He ripped my lingerie, and now there’s a tear on the side. I frown, fingering the broken elastic before tossing the item in the trash. These were three to a pack from Target. I can get some more, no problem.

I reach into the basket again to pull out a filmy white thong. It looks like something a bride would wear, except grooms don’t do what Peter from Chicago did to me. After stripping me nude, he had me on all fours. Then he pushed my sopping panties into my hole, only to draw the fabric out slowly and languorously. It felt delicious, to be honest. The scratchy lace pulled against my insides, and I moaned deliriously. Peter was dirty, but I’m exactly the kind of girl who loves it.

Slowly, I go through each item, lovingly fingering the lingerie while smiling at the naughty memories that come to mind. There are so many items! I probably haven’t done laundry in two weeks, and there must be at least seven or eight sets of used lace in here. Well, at least I’m enjoying my membership with Dads and Daughters. I’m certainly available for the men’s enjoyment, that’s for sure.

Finally, all of my clothes are in the lukewarm water, and I drop in some detergent. But before hitting start on the machine, I have one more thing to do. Slowly, I reach into the side compartment of my basket for my battery-operated friend, Senior. I call him Senior because Junior sounds inappropriate given his huge size.

He’s a ten-inch long, enormous rubber member with articulated veins on each side. Squishy balls form the base, but it’s not a flat base. Instead, there’s a hole in the base with a locking mechanism because it was designed especially for this machine in front of me. Smiling a bit to myself, I shimmy out of my clothes so that my lush curves are out in the open. Then, I lick Senior a bit, getting him lubed and ready. With a final flick of my wrist and a coy smile, I pop him onto the center cylinder of the washing machine, where all the action happens. Perfect.

Now comes the tricky part. Looking around, I spy a small step-stool about ten feet away and quickly skip over to bring it back to my designated area. Then using the step-stool, I clamber onto the machine and gingerly squat over the open hole. It’s a little bit tricky, but totally worth the trouble. The clothes are in a soapy pit beneath me, and of course, I don’t want to fall in. Getting my feet positioned correctly is absolutely key, and I make sure that I’m balanced and ready to rumble.

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