Dear diary,
I was sitting on top of the washing machine, someone else had started, to feel the vibration on my pussy while my clothes were drying. The spin cycle was already hitting just right when he walked in.
I wasn't wearing any panties. He stopped in front of me, eyes dropping to where my shorts were already a little damp. “Looks like you're gonna have to put those shorts in the wash?”
I shifted on the edge. “Yeah, looks like it.”
He stepped between my legs, hand sliding up my thigh. “Let me help you with those.”
He quickly slipped them off and tossed them to the floor. He pushed in slow while the machine hummed under me, then started fucking me deeper, one hand gripping my waist. The vibration mixed with every thrust.
“Fuck, stay right there,” he said against my neck.
I locked my leg around him. He kept going, harder, until he groaned and came inside me, the washer still spinning under us. I stayed on the edge, breathing hard, not even caring if anyone walked in.
Perfect timing too. The buzzer went off, I grabbed the basket and my clothes, making sure to pick up my shorts on the way out.
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