Date: Sat, 12 Apr 2008 21:03:52 -0500
From: Amber Fountaine <amber_fountaine@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Laundry Room Luck"

Amber Fountaine stories contain sexually explicit descriptions of
consensual sexual activity and are not suitable for reading by anyone under
the age of 18, or anyone offended by reading such material. These acts
include gay and bisexual activity as well as any combination of piss play,
diapers, cross-dressing and other fetishes and perversions that may please
the author's whims. The characters in these stories are fictional, but are
mostly based on the author's true experiences, as well as the experiences
of others he has met. Every attempt to conceal these identities has been
made. These stories are placed in Nifty for the enjoyment of its readers
and are not to be copied and/or distributed without the approval of the
author.

			     Laundry Room Luck
			as told to Amber Fountaine

      My dad used to tell me that he was the unluckiest guy in the world
and that he sure hoped I didn't inherit whatever gene it was that caused
that. I guess looking back I didn't.  For one thing he wasn't my real dad
and if there was such a gene, I couldn't nave gotten it from him. In
addition, I have a near genius IQ and what caused my dad's bad luck was
pure stupidity. Not that he was that dumb, but he sure didn't have a lick
of sense.
      Like the time he lost his job because he called his boss a dumb-ass
wop. Not the smartest thing to say when you're working as a cook in an
Italian restaurant. Or the time my mom caught him banging the neighbor lady
on the living room couch. The woman wasn't married and they could have
easily gone to her place to fuck. But not my brainy dad. He balls her right
there in our living room not knowing the school had called my mom to pick
me up because I'd had a tooth knocked out. So the two of us walk in the
door to find my dad in short strokes, his little chippie friend moaning and
groaning about how good my dad's cock felt, and then all hell broke
loose. Even though I was a few weeks from turning eighteen at the time, I'd
never seen a naked woman, just a few pictures, and I stood to one side,
trying to remain un-noticed, while my mom and dad screamed at each other.
      Here we are in the middle of this matrimonial melee, with my parents
screaming about divorce and my mom calling the woman a whore, and me? All I
cared about was watching my dad's new girlfriend. She really was a helluva
an eyeful.
      That event led me to my first sexual experience and what this story
is all about. To begin with, my mom and dad divorced shortly after that. In
fact, my mom threw out the girl, my dad, and most of his clothes that same
afternoon and told him not to come back. I was due to graduate from high
school in a few weeks so my mom and I stayed in the house until after that
and then she sold the place. I had a scholarship to a small college in New
Jersey; because of my grades more than anything. My real dad, who had died
in the Army when I was two, qualified me for help from the VA too.
      My mom found a new job not too far from my college campus and as a
temporary measure, until we could decide what we'd do for sure, my mom got
a large one bedroom apartment. The deal was, I'd sleep on the couch at
least until the fall semester started. We were on the waiting list for a
two-bedroom unit when the apartment complex got a vacancy. The alternative
was living in a dorm, which I couldn't afford, or finding an apartment of
my own and that I really couldn't afford.
      My mom had worked as a waitress - that's how she'd met my dad - until
she'd gotten in with a catering company. Her new job was at a fancy country
club where she'd be doing both, working some in the club restaurant, but
more with the many parties and events held there. She told me she made much
better tips at times, but since the customers usually put everything on a
credit card, she had to declare all of them. Seems like there's always some
reason you can't have it all.
      Anyway, we'd been living in this new place for about a month when my
mom asked me to do the wash for her while she was at work. My mom had
always had strange hours so doing household chores for her sure wasn't
anything new to me; no different in fact than a reminder to take out the
trash. I'd been washing and ironing my own clothes since I was twelve and
had used our vacuum cleaner tens times more often than she had.
      So this one momentous day that began the journey this is all about, I
carried a couple of baskets of clothes down to the laundry room, put them
in the machines, and left to come back and play video games while the
clothes washed. When I went back, there was a woman coming out and I
slipped in before the door closed. It was one of those apartment complex
laundry rooms where they have a push button combination lock on the door
for security and I got in without having to open the door.
      There was a man in there that hadn't been there when I'd gone in
earlier and when I walked up behind him to check on my clothes, he was
startled to see me. I recognized him from seeing him around and couldn't
understand why, since he should have recognized me too, that my sudden
arrival had made him so startled that he spilled one of his laundry
baskets. If I hadn't stopped short, I would have walked right through his
dirty clothes.
      The machines I was using were right across from his and seeing that
the lights indicated they were still running, I decided to help the guy
gather his clothes. That's when I noticed that all the things that had
dumped out of that basket were women's lingerie.
      I didn't think a thing about that. There were some of my mom's things
in with the stuff I was washing. I'd been washing her clothes off and on
for years and often, when she'd been working doubles and split shifts or
taking night classes, I would iron her uniforms for her too. But for some
reason, Josh - I learned that was his name - was completely flustered by my
seeing his basket of women's underwear.
      My first thought, having similar tendencies, was that his
embarrassment was caused by his clumsiness. If I'd had a dollar for every
time I'd knocked something over - well you know that story. Then as I
looked more closely at the items on the floor, I thought it was probably
because his wife wore such sexy stuff. I mean my mom's things - except for
her slips and bras - weren't a whole lot different than what I wore. In
fact, some of the guys at school wore fancy jockey shorts that looked more
like the sexy panties on the floor than my mom's white cotton
panties. Mom's were almost like the tighty-whities that I wore. But Josh's
wife wore things like I'd only seen in some of those men's magazines or in
a catalog my mom got once in a while and I'd pulled out of the trash. I
think my dad had them send her the catalog as a hint and that was fine with
me. Those catalogs had provided me with a lot a masturbatory inspiration
for the last few years.
      Josh was trying to scoop it all back in the basket before I could
help him so I backed off and let him. Then when he stood up, I realized
that the older man was blushing. Although I'd just turned eighteen, I was
still a virgin, didn't know a whole lot about regular sex, and even less
about the more unusual aspects. To put him at ease, I introduced myself,
told him my name was Michael, or Mike, and as we went about our wash day
chores, I told him about my college plans and he told me he'd graduated
from the same college a few years back and was now working supervising the
night shift of the claims department of a large insurance company that was
headquartered just down the road.
      By the time I had my things in the dryers, Josh and I were talking
like we were old buddies. That is until I happened to say something about
his wife and without thinking, he told me he wasn't married. "Oh, then your
girlfriend lives with you?" I said, assuming I had to be right. Instead of
answering, he blushed again and changed the subject and that was so strange
I took notice.
      One of the things I'd noticed, while giving the appearance of not
paying any attention, was that Josh was washing a few skirts and blouses in
addition to the lingerie, and what I'd thought at first were some kind of
towels, looked more like diapers when they'd been in the dryer for a
while. I became so intrigued with what Josh was doing that I made a comment
about some of the things I had in the dryer not getting dry and dropped in
a few more quarters to extend the time. The clothes were really dry already
but I was about twenty minutes ahead of Josh, and I needed a good excuse to
hang around for when he began pulling his clothes out of the dryer.
      We continued to have a friendly chat, interrupted now and then by
having to move some clothes around or sort or fold things. There were two
rows of washing machines with tables on each end and Josh was using one
table and I was across from him. While we were working back to back, we
could easily continue to talk and I was able to sneak glances at what Josh
was doing while seeming to pay no attention at all. I noticed that when the
lingerie was done he created a sort of visual shield with his two laundry
baskets and folded each item and then quickly hid it in one of the
baskets. He had more than enough hangers to hang everything separately, yet
when his shirts and what were obviously women's blouses were done, he hung
each blouse and then quickly covered it with a man's shirt. Instead of
hanging the skirts with the hangers he'd brought for that purpose, he
folded the skirts, put them in one of the baskets, and put the unused skirt
hangers in the basket with them. By the time we were finished and going our
separate ways, which weren't all that separate since he was in the next
building over, I was sure that Josh had some reason for wanting to hide the
fact that he had women's clothes.
      As I said, I was a virgin. Along with it, I was really pretty naïve
sexually, being one of the brainier kids in high school and much less
socially active. I was well aware of all the proper medical terms for sex,
but knew nothing of people's sex habits or the variety of ways that some
found to enjoy sex. So to begin with, it never occurred to me that those
feminine things might have belonged to Josh and not some female
roommate. Since my mom had done all the negotiating about the rent, I had
no idea what the rules and restrictions were. I'd heard her mention that
she thought the pet deposit for our cat was outrageous and that the manager
wasn't too happy about me sleeping on the couch instead of having my own
bedroom, but since they didn't have any two-bedroom apartments vacant at
the time, there wasn't too much that could be said. So my naive assumption
was that maybe it cost more to have extra people in a room, like I knew
that some hotels did, and that Josh didn't want the apartment manager to
know he had a woman living with him.
      However, from that day on, I began to pay very close attention to
Josh, his apartment, and his coming and going, as well as the two men that
seemed to visit him a lot. While Josh's apartment was on the backside of
the building from where we lived, it was mid-summer, I wasn't in school or
working, and spent most of my time at the pool. The pool was the perfect
place to watch Josh's apartment and I didn't think a good tan would hurt
either. As the weeks passed, I ran into Josh and always made a point to
speak to him. We were becoming friends, so one day I asked why he never
came down to the pool. He made some excuses about burning easily which I
countered by offering him my sunscreen. Finally he agreed, said he'd be
back down in a few minutes, and when he did, I finally figured out at last
what Josh was up to.
      Josh was much like me but older. Seen together we could be taken for
brothers. We were both average height, slightly built, and light
complected. He came down to the pool wearing a bathing suit similar to my
Speedo. Instead of diving in the water, he walked in, using the stairs and
putting his arms together in front of him like my mom did when she got in
the water, and sort of tip-toed into the water like a little girl. Then
when he got out, I reminded him he needed to put on some sunscreen and
offered to do his back. He laid on one of the recliners, face down, and I
began to spread the lotion, sitting on the edge of his recliner. That's
when I discovered that Josh had recently been wearing a bra.
      I didn't know that was what it was at first and almost asked
him. There were some marks on his shoulders from straps of some sort and I
had my mouth open to ask when I noticed the indentations across his back
from the bra itself. That might account for why he'd been wearing a
windbreaker when I'd talked to him earlier and the temperature was already
in the eighties and there was hardly a breeze.
      So I didn't say anything while I thought it through. For some reason,
the thought of Josh dressing as a girl excited me. As I worked my way down
to the waist of his bathing suit, I wondered what he'd do if I continued
and did the back of his legs too. That caused me to pay more attention to
his legs and I noticed they were clean shaven. I might have assumed he was
hairless, but he'd missed a couple of spots the last time he'd shaved his
legs and there was hair stubble in two places on one leg. That thought also
excited me and by the time I finished with the back of his legs, I was
getting a bulge in my bathing suit that was going to require a discreet
jump in the pool. But I never made it.
      "You've got nice hands," Josh told me, rolling on his side.
      "Thanks," I answered, then blurted out, "I've never done that for
someone else. I, uh, liked rubbing you."
      "Not as much as I did," he told me, smiling at me. "You kind of got
me turned on. I guess I forgot where we were at. I need to jump in the
water before I start sticking out of this silly suit."
      No way I could keep from looking to see if he'd meant what I thought
he did and sure enough, he was as hard as I was. That's when I noticed that
right where the head of his cock must be, bent to one side but well within
the material, there was a very feminine, floral design embroidered on his
swimsuit. His `silly suit' as he'd called it was really the bottom half of
a woman's bikini. Without thinking how he'd take it, I said, "That's cute."
      He laughed. "That's what Roger says too.  He's too kind to say I have
a little dick so he tells me it's cute." Then coyly he added, "I'm glad you
like it."
      Josh was blushing slightly, or maybe he was beginning to burn that
quick. But I'm sure I blushed bright red when I realized how he'd taken my
remark and then given me an answer that made it pretty plain he had a
boyfriend. Even worse, he thought I was coming on to him - that I liked his
dick!
      "No, uh, I meant, uh the suit. Your bathing suit is cute. The
design. I meant the design on your suit is cute."
      "Oh. I forgot about that. I didn't think it was noticeable. I've got
another one but it's hot pink and I could never wear it here." Then he
smiled at me and said, "But you could borrow it some time if you like. I'll
bet we wear the same size. Be sexier than the stuff you wear."
      That took me by surprise. I couldn't think of any reason he should
think I wanted to wear girls things. "Why would I want to do that?" I
asked, confused.
      He shrugged. "Well . . . you're younger. And you're cute. And you're
sexy. I think you'd look gorgeous if you tried. It would be a lot sexier
that that stuff you were washing."
      That explained it. He'd noticed my mom's things in with what I was
washing and had concluded that I liked to wear girl's clothes too. Telling
another guy that I lived with my mother hadn't seemed like the way to
impress him so while we'd chatted about a whole lot of different things,
I'd left that little detail out completely, possibly giving him the
impression I had my own apartment. At that time, I'd had no suspicion the
feminine clothing in his wash was his so I had never considered that he
might assume the female clothing I was washing was mine.
      I was forming some sort of denial or explanation when he told me, as
he took the tube of sun block from my hand, "Let me do you now. Lay down."
	With my mind busy thinking about the confusion over the clothes I'd
been washing and trying to formulate some sort of credible response, I
never thought about what he told me to do, I just did it and reasoned that
it would give me more time to come up with a perfect explanation. It wasn't
until he'd straddled my legs and was applying sunscreen on my shoulders
that I discovered how intimate the contact was between us. Every time he
leaned forward, I could feel his erection against the checks of my ass. If
I tried to move away from it, my erection pressed into the mat on the
recliner, exciting me more. So I tried to lighten the pressure on my cock
by rotating my hips and inadvertently rubbed my ass against his stiffy.
	"Mmm. You like me rubbing my little cutie against you. I thought
you might," he commented.
	Again my brain tried to quickly formulate a denial. I wanted to
scream that I wasn't gay and had no interest in men sexually. But
. . . . nothing came out. It was like my brain had this big debate going
on. I'd taken a debate class in high school, had been on the debate team,
and I swear it was just like all the brain cells on one side of my brain
were challenging the brain cells on the other side. Every thought I had
seemed to have an opposing argument. Every denial seemed to be unfounded.
	I preferred sex with women. So if that was true, why hadn't I made
more effort to have sex with a woman?
	I wasn't gay. Then why was I getting sexually excited by another
man?
	I'd never tried to have sex with a man. So what did that prove? I'd
never tried to have sex with a woman.
	I looked at pictures of girls when I jacked off. Doesn't count. I'd
never seen a picture of a naked guy. How do I know for sure that I wouldn't
keep it and use it if I had the chance?
	The more I thought about it, the weaker any denial seemed to
be. When he finished with my back and moved down to do the back of my
thighs, I had mixed feelings about that too. I was relieved to break the
contact between his cock and my ass, separated by only thin layers of
nylon, and the turmoil in my mind it created. At the same time, I missed
the excitement that contact had given me, creating a new point of
contention.
	He started with my calves, then the back of my knees, making me
squirm a little, and then my thighs, getting higher all the time. Just as I
was beginning to wonder what it would feel like if I didn't have on the
swim suit and he could do the cheeks of my ass, I felt the tips of his
fingers on each side slip under the leg bands and briefly kneed my the
mounds of my butt. Because we were in a very public place, it was very
brief indeed, but more than enough to answer my unasked question. It had
felt VERY good.
	Finished, he stood and told me, "Roll over."
	I seemed to be putty in Josh's hands. Like a well trained dog, he
said `roll over' and without any hesitation, I rolled over.
	"Wow!" he said. "Better tuck that back in. Or would you like for me
to do it for you?"
	If he hadn't been staring at my crotch, it might have taken me
longer to figure out what he meant. I glance down and saw that the movement
against the recliner mat must have allowed my erection to escape the
waistband of my swimsuit. The head of my cock and about an inch of the
shaft were pointing straight up toward my naval. The drop of pre-cum in the
slit gave further proof of how excited Josh's touch had made me. As I
quickly moved to push my cock down and to the side so that the suit covered
it, I realized that any of those denials I was supposedly working on would
be totally worthless at that point. Instead, I did the next best thing. I
ran.
	Josh was standing on the opposite side of the recliner from the
pool so it was easy for me to roll off the recliner, take three steps, and
dive into the pool without ever fully standing. Underwater, I turned so
that I was able to swim the length of the pool before emerging near the
same steps that Josh had used to enter the pool earlier. I almost expected
him to be there to greet me. Instead, I came face to face with two women
that I thought were about to enter the pool.
	My first thought was how long had they been there? Had they seen
Josh and I together on the recliner? Had they seen my cock sticking out of
my swim suit? They both gave me a huge smile and maybe out of guilt I tried
to read more into it than there was. I took it to be a knowing smile, like
they'd seen the whole thing. Then I noticed the things in their hands and
that they weren't heading for the pool steps, but to a table nearby. I was
standing in water that was waist high and decided not to chance coming out
of the pool near them. Instead, I turned and swam for the metal ladder
across the pool from where Josh was still standing, pausing at the ladder
to slip a hand in my swimsuit and arrange things. My cock was still
slightly swollen, but not to the point where I couldn't get it pointed down
between my legs before exiting the pool.
	"Chicken shit," Josh commented when I walked to the recliner and
picked up the can of soda to see if there was any left.
	"About what?" I asked. Then I walked past him to drop the empty can
in one of the bins scattered about the pool area.
	He waited until I got back to my recliner so he wouldn't have to
speak in a normal voice. Then he said softly, "You were scared to get out
of the pool in front of Gwen and Pauline."
	"You know them?" I asked. I assumed from all that had happened
earlier that he had no interest in women.
	"Intimately," he said with a wink. "They live across from me and
bring me cream pies all the time."
	"You ought to try some of my mom's pies," I told him, bragging on
her. "She used to be a pastry chef but discovered she could make more money
as a waitress in the right place."
	He tried to hold back a laugh until if looked like he was about to
explode. Eventually he asked, almost choking on the words, "How old are
you?"
	"Eighteen," I told him in a huff. Obviously I'd missed something
that he'd expected someone my age to know and I didn't. It was the same
sort of ragging I'd gotten in high school when I didn't catch on to a
sexual joke and it annoyed me. "Look, I uh, I need to get going. My mom
will be home in a while and there's some things I need to do."
	"Sure," he said. Then as I picked up my towel he added, "I didn't
know you lived with your mother. I thought you were older. Guess I had you
figured wrong."
	"No problem. See you around." Then as I was walking off, I heard
one of the two women holler, "Hey Joyce. Catch yourself a new boyfriend?"
and Josh answer, "Too young - had to throw that one back." I paused at the
corner of the building to look back at the three of them. While I'd been
walking off, Josh had been working his way around the pool to talk to
them. Apparently it didn't bother him at all to be seen by them wearing
part of a woman's bathing suit. But he'd said, "Intimately," so they
probably knew him a lot better than I did, though I considered our session
with the sunscreen to be pretty damn intimate too. Josh was now standing
next to them and I couldn't hear what they were saying. The women were on
recliners looking up and Josh and his back was to me. But he must have said
something to make them giggle and then, even from the distance I was at, I
could tell that Josh was pissing in his bikini bottom for the ladies
amusement.
	This was all too confusing to me and I couldn't make heads or tails
of any of it, particularly about the things that Josh seemed to enjoy
doing. If he liked to have sex with guys, then why was he intimate with
girls? Why would anyone want to pee in their pants or why would women think
that was amusing? For that matter, they'd called him "Joyce" like that was
their name for him. Or did he use that name when he was dressed like a
girl? For that matter, why would any male want to dress as a girl? To get a
guy? That sort of made sense but it might piss off the guy when he found
out he'd been fooled. Back in my apartment - or I should say my mom's
apartment, I thought about it all for a while and then decided to take a
chance. I got out my laptop, plugged into the phone line, and began to
explore the net.

       While my mom may have been just a waitress in most folks eyes, I
knew she'd been in college when she met my real dad, had dropped out when I
was born and had been taking a course here and there for years. Even at
that rate, there was a good chance that she might graduate before I did as
a full time student. My mom had bought me the laptop with the understanding
that it was for school only and not video games or porn sites and I'd
followed her rules to the letter. However, I deemed this to be an emergency
and I was sure I could cover my tracks.
	First I looked up `cream-pie' to see why that was so funny. Boy,
was that a shock. I discovered that a `cream pie' like Josh had meant was a
pussy full of some guys cum! And obviously, from all of the pictures I saw,
Josh wasn't the only guy that enjoyed eating those. From there, I expanded
my search into guys dressing as women and there appeared to be hundreds of
sites that covered that subject in some way; from support groups to just
plain pornography. By then, I'd taken off my swimsuit, and was stroking my
cock any time one hand was free. When I got to a page full of pictures of a
guy in sexy lingerie, sucking off a guy, my cock spewed cum everywhere,
including the screen and keys of the laptop.
	Then I got another surprise. Normally, once I'd jacked off, I had
no need to do so again for a few days. Only once, a few years back, had I
cum a second time in the same masturbatory session. However this time, as
the last of my jism drooled out and I rubbed it into my prick, it never got
completely soft. Within minutes I was just as hard as before and after
wiping off the laptop, continued, this time at a slower pace, reading more
and looking at the pictures less. And this time, I began to imagine both
Josh and me in some of the scenarios that were described.
	One thing that I kept turning up as I read more was the statement
from many of the men that they'd started in their early teens, usually
wearing things of their mother's and masturbating. A few times in my early
teens, I'd done the same, back when I'd first started washing and ironing
my mom's clothes. I'd never jacked off in them, but had gotten excited by
putting them on. That hadn't lasted more than a month or two and I'd never
had the desire again. So in my case, I'd considered it something along the
lines of smoking cigarettes, something else I'd tried and given up before I
got started, and had never given it a second thought.
	But that was then and this was now and I knew a lot more now, even
if it still wasn't much. I think I knew I was going to do it even before I
looked in my mom's dirty clothes basket to see what was in there, and as
luck would have it, I found everything I would need.
	The panties were easy and I liked them immediately, even if they
were just white cotton. The bra was a little harder, never having tried
that. But by putting it on backwards so I could see what I was doing to
hook it, and then twisting it around and putting my arms through the
shoulder straps, I soon had it on and padded with wads of toilet
paper. Next came a slip and one of my mom's uniforms and then I was ready
to check myself in the mirror. While I could find many flaws, especially
since I had short hair and no makeup, if I turned out the overhead light
and just used the nightlight, I definitely looked like a woman. So dressed
as I was, as the girl I would soon refer to as `Michelle,' I went back to
the laptop.
	This time it took me almost an hour before I pumped out a second
load of `cream' and this time I was looking at those pictures from the
cream pie sites again. Some were close-ups of cockheads spewing onto a
pussy they'd just pulled out of and some showed pussies full of cum,
usually with a guy or gal ready and waiting to lick it up. But the one that
set me off was a series of pictures of a guy licking jism off both the
woman and the guy that had fucked her.
	That began one of the horniest periods of my life. For the next two
weeks I would put on my mother's clothes as soon as she was gone to work,
jack off two or even three times surfing porn sites on the internet, and
then go to the pool for the afternoon. I continued to run into Josh, always
spoke to him, and even got up the nerve to go speak to Gwen and Pauline one
afternoon when there were just the three of us at the pool.
	One of the things I noticed, once I'd put my mind to it, was that
Josh always did his wash on Tuesdays, around noon. I was more on a demand
basis. When both laundry baskets got full, I washed. Or if for some reason,
like my mom requesting I wash all the linens, I'd do it then. In addition
to my morning masturbation session in my mom's clothes, I often, like
almost every night, put on one of the two pair of panties I'd bought myself
and fell asleep with my cock in my hand fantasizing about Josh and Gwen and
Pauline. Almost always I was thinking about servicing them orally - all
three of them. In the last couple of weeks, I'd developed the habit of
catching my cum in the palm of one hand and licking it clean, pretending it
was Josh's cum and that I was licking it out of Gwen or Pauline's
pussy. With thoughts like that, and the flavor of cum in my mouth, I'm sure
you can understand why I was now jacking of two or three times a day. And I
wanted more.
	More for me meant Josh to begin with. The more I thought about Josh
and what he'd called his `cutie' the more I wanted it. I'd convinced myself
that trying sex with Josh one time to see what it was like would prove once
and for all that I was either gay or straight, a mental turmoil that was
still smoldering in my thoughts; partly because as much as I wanted to try
sex with Josh, or better yet would be `Joyce,' I couldn't get Pauline and
Gwen out of my mind. Pauline looked like a girl from high school that I'd
had a crush on in my junior year. Another reason I was leaning more toward
Pauline was that since I'd been using my poolside vantage point to keep an
eye on Josh and his apartment, the girls lived right across from him and
I'd seen Gwen going out several times with a date. I'd never seen Pauline
go out on a date so I expected her to be far the more available. Not that I
really thought either of them would be interested in me, but should some
sort of miracle occur, I was sure it was more likely to happen with
Pauline.
	In the meantime, my plan to get to better know Josh centered around
another meeting with him in the laundry room so on the following Tuesday, I
was ready.
	To get from either his apartment or mine to the laundry room, you
had to walk around the pool. So after getting everything prepared, I put on
a pair of shorts, took a book to the pool, and stationed myself where he'd
have to walk past me. He was starting early and I almost was too late. I
hadn't finished the first page of the book when I saw him come out of his
apartment with two baskets of clothes and head in my direction. When he got
close and said hello, I acted like I suddenly noticed the baskets he was
carrying. "Oh shit. Thanks for the reminder," I told him, leaving him
confused. Then I ran to the apartment, grabbed the carefully assembled
baskets, and rushed down to the laundry room with them.
	He already had all his things in the wash by the time I got there
and he had brought a paper with him to read. I knew he was watching me and
when I began to sort out the lingerie from the rest of it, I made a special
point to show off one of the two pair of panties that I'd recently
bought. My mom had gotten a hundred-dollar tip at a wedding reception and
had given me twenty to spend on myself. I'd spent all but pocket change on
two pair of panties. That shopping trip might make a story in itself, but
really wouldn't add much to this story so I'll skip it. Anyway, when I
pulled out the pink pair with little red and white flowers embroidered on
them, I got his attention for sure.
	"Washing your mom's things again?" he asked, lowering the paper.
	"Some of hers - some of mine," I commented casually. Considering
how hard my heart was beating, that was a good trick.
	He was making no pretext of reading the paper now and asked, "The
pink ones yours or hers?"
	"One of mine," I said, still trying to be nonchalant about it.
	"Nice," he said. "You'll have to model them for me sometime."
	"Maybe," I teased, playing coy. "But you might like the ones I'm
wearing better."
	Now he was grinning ear to ear. "I probably would," he said. "Why
don't you show me."
	"That would be naughty," I answered in a sing-song, little girl
voice. "I'm not that kind of girl."
	Josh laughed. "I am," he said.
	"Oh that's right. You told me you had a boyfriend named Roger."
	Josh shrugged and smiled at me. "Not sure about that. It's more
like Roger has a few girlfriends and sometimes I get to be one of them."
	"Any of them real girls?" I teased.
	"I don't ask. After a while you just learn to accept and enjoy what
comes your way."
	"How did you mean `comes'."
	He grinned and nodded. "I really didn't mean it as a pun, but now
that you mention it . . . yeah . . . either way would be about right."
	"Ah, so you ARE that kind of girl."
	He shrugged again. "I told you." Then he got around to what I'd
hoped he'd mention. "What about you? How much experience have you had? I'd
love to see you dressed up."
	Bingo! The down side of this plan was that I knew he had to work
later that day and for the next five days. He had Sundays and Mondays
off. He went in around five and got off after midnight. Still, there were
four or five hours before he had to be ready to go and for openers, so to
speak, that would be plenty long enough.
	"I . . . I'm kind of new at it," I told him, not wanting him to
know just how very new I was. "I've just tried a few of my mom's things and
I have my own panties so . . . you know . . . so that I don't . . . stain
any of hers."
	"That's how my sister caught me. I was a little younger than you
and had been sneaking into her stuff for years before she found some cum
stains I'd missed and put it all together. She nailed me bigger `en shit
and I was like her slave until I left for college."
	"Sounds rough."
	He sort of sneered, "Yeah, at times. But there were some good
things too."
	"Good how?"
	He was just about to answer when the apartment manager walked in
with the maintenance man. Josh went back to his paper and with all my
things now in washing machines, I picked up my book and looked at it like I
was reading. When the maintenance man and Shirley, the manager, were done
discussing what he needed to do to make the ceiling tiles not jump around
when the door opened, she came over to me.
	"Tell your mom we might have a two-bedroom available next month if
Mr. Wright there still wants to do that. What I'll do is swap the two of
you." Then just as she got to the door, she turned to Josh and said,
"Unless you want to move him in with you." Then she was gone.
	The sudden thought of living with another man scared the shit out
of me. Josh had a totally different take on it.
	"You know, she's got something there. Classes begin pretty soon
don't they?"
	"Two weeks," I answered, not sure how that fit in.
	"Well I don't think your mom would want you moving in with me -
especially if she knew what kind of fun we could have together. But I had
mentioned to Shirley that unless I found a roommate, I wanted to give up my
two-bedroom apartment and move to a single. Yours isn't two bed-room? What
do you do - sleep with your mom?"
	"Shit no!" I told him. "I sleep on the couch. But what does school
have to do with it?"
	"Oh. What I was thinking was that I never thought about advertising
for a roommate on campus. I know when I went there I saw lots of ads put up
for roommates."
	"What about . . . Joyce?"
	He chuckled. "Welcome to the adult world kid. You're going to be
amazed at what goes on in college. I doubt I'll have any trouble at all
finding someone from your school that likes to dress up too."
	When I realized what he'd said was upsetting me, and then further
realized it was because I was jealous, I didn't know how to react. There
were lots of thoughts going through my mind but the one I put word to was,
"How do you know my mom wouldn't let me do that?"
	He looked at me a moment, his face turning serious. "You think she
might? It's a thought. Could be just the experience you need."
	"What makes you think I need experience," I protested, regretting
my remark immediately. While I wanted to argue his assumption that I needed
experience, it had to be blatantly obvious to someone like Josh that I had
little or none, and I didn't really want him to start pointing out all the
many ways that it showed.
	He shrugged. "Sorry," he told me. "Didn't mean anything to upset
you." About that time the first of his washing machines quit spinning and
shut off and he moved to beginning transferring things to one of the
dryers. By the time he was done and he had his clothes drying, my wash
finished and I had to do the same. It was several minutes before we could
resume our conversation and that's when another of the residents came in
with the first of several baskets of clothes. Eventually, when my things
were in the dryer too and the woman was gone to get more things to wash,
Josh turned to me.
	"When you're done here, how about coming over to my apartment and I
show you what it looks like. If your mom will go for it, I'll charge you
the difference between the cost of two apartments if you want to move
in. She'd have to pay that anyway if we swapped apartments."
	"So it would be like she would stay in her apartment, but pay the
rent on yours and I would live at your apartment and your rent would be the
same as what we're paying now?"
	"Not bad for a college boy," he teased. "That's exactly what it
would be. And we'd both have plenty of privacy since you'll be in classes
most of the time during the day and I'll be at work at night."
	I'd been thinking of the whole thing from a sexual standpoint and
when he explained it from his more mature perspective, it really did make
sense. In fact, when I thought about how much sense it made, I realized I
just might be able to convince my mom it was a good idea.
	The one thing she was adamant about was that I not try to work
during my first year or two. "When you have sixty hours under your belt,
we'll talk about you working part-time. Not until then," she'd told me
dozens of times. "Yeah, it does make sense," I told him, not seeing any
flaws in the idea.
	Then, with the other lady in the washroom again, we chatted about
the classes I was enrolled for and my career plans and we even engaged the
unknown resident in our conversation until the clothes were dry. When Josh
had all his things, including I noticed some of sexy lingerie, all folded
and ready to go, he casually told me, "Mike, come over to my apartment when
you're done and I'll fix you something to eat."
	If ever I'd heard a double-entendre that was it. I was sure I knew
what he meant, but with the lady watching him, I couldn't very well ask for
qualification. Besides, I really wanted what he had to offer. So I joked
back. "Nothing too large for me please. I have to watch my girlish figure."
	"Got it," he said from the doorway. "Lots of protein - few
calories. Got just the thing for you." Then he was gone.
	"He's a nice young man," the lady commented not understanding what
we'd really been talking about. "Don't you think it's great the way all the
residents here get along so well?"
	"Yes it is," I told her smiling for my own reasons.
	Thirty minutes later I knocked on Josh's door and was startled when
a woman answered. Then I realized it was Josh.
	He laughed at the look on my face and the fact that it took me a
few seconds to recognize him. "Usually at this time of day I'm taking
clothes like this off. But I made an exception in your case so you'll know
what you're getting into. I much prefer to be `Joyce' whenever I can."
	"Wow," I told him as I entered, looking around and then back at
him. "You really look awesome. If I could look that good I'd do it all the
time too."
	"Maybe you could," he suggested. "If you'd like to come over some
morning when we'd have more time, I'll be glad to help you."
	I nodded, afraid to speak. It was scary, but definitely appealing
to me. Then he began to move around me like he was sizing me up which
proved to be the case.
	"You should be able to fit into just about anything I own. If you
move in, I've got some things you can have and we'll shop for more - if you
want."
	"I think . . . I should really try it first before I spend a lot of
money."
	"I shop thrift stores," he told me. "You'd be amazed at what I can
find. Thrift stores and re-sale shops are like heaven to girls like us."
Then he got more to the point. "I think you were going to show me the
panties you had on before we were interrupted in the laundry room."
	I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if I undid my shorts and
showed him my panties, that we'd be having sex of some sort within
minutes. And I was ready. Very ready. I wanted to play with that cute
cock. I wanted to put it my mouth like the `girls' on the website did. I
wanted to taste his cum and compare it to mine. In fact, I wanted it all so
bad that I don't remember undoing my shorts, only stepping out of them and
getting `Joyce's' approval.
	"Oh sweetie," he cooed. "Lavendar is definitely your color!"
	The only thing I missed on was the time. While I'd thought we'd be
at it in minutes, it was almost an hour before we really got into it. In
the meantime, he found me a bra and some real bra pads and a short nightie
that matched the panties I had on so closely it was like they were a set.
	"I ALWAYS sleep in a nightie," he told me. "Every night since I
move out - and a lot of nights when I still lived at home. Now I have
dozens."
	"What about at college?" He'd said he'd gone off to college so I
knew he had to be living in the dorm or somewhere off campus.
	"Some good years - some bad years," he told me. "Depended entirely
on my roommate in the dorm at the time." He went on to give me some
examples of a good year and was very sexually explicite about all the
things he'd done, raising my level of excitement with each graphic
description of sucking off one roommate or another.
	"Did any of them return the favor?" I asked, since he never
mentioned that, only the part where he did the sucking.
	"Oh sure," he said. Then letting me know what he expected should I
move in, he added, "I wouldn't have a roommate that wouldn't suck me too -
male or female."
	I got the point but avoided it by asking, "You really like girls
too?"
	"Why not? Does that surprise you? I found this apartment because
the girl I was seeing was a friend of Pauline and Gwen's and they told me
it was going to be vacant before the guy that lived here told Shirley he
intended to move. The timing was perfect for me." As he'd been talking he'd
closed the distance between us on the couch. "But you know what I like more
than girls?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he put his hand on the
front of my panties and told me, "Girls like us." Then he began to rub my
cock. It had been hard for almost an hour and as soon as he touched it, I
could feel pre-cum begin to ooze from the tip.
	So I followed his lead, putting my hand on his nylon covered thigh,
moving it quickly up past the top of his stocking and on to the front of
his panties. My need was much more urgent than his. I had my hand wrapped
around his cock before he had mine in his. But he beat me to it in the
sucking department.
	"Let me show you," he whispered, then dropped his head in my lap,
engulfing my entire cock and then letting it slowly slide out from between
his lips.
	How I kept from shooting off right then I'll never know. I wanted
to cum so bad I could taste it and maybe that thought helped me to hold
back. What I'd really come to his apartment for was to taste his cock and
cum and I knew to do that I'd have to give him a blowjob he'd really
enjoy. So I tried to ignore the pleasure he was giving me except to compare
one thing he did with another. He licked my entire cock from time to time
like it was a giant fleshy popsicle but there were some areas I noticed
that really caused me to nearly loose it. He seemed to have a sixth sense
and could tell when I was about to cum and would stop, squeezing the base
of my cock in such a way that I couldn't cum. Then after a moment or two,
when I'd regained control, he'd stop squeezing and if a little cum oozed
out, he'd make a show of catching it on the tip of his tongue and showing
it to me. He'd done that a few time when I told him, as he was about to
begin again, "I want to try it."
	"Thought you might," he said with a wink. "Just do what I did and
you'll do fine."
	I don't know how he knew I'd never done it before but at that point
it seemed like maybe it was best that he did. This way he'd be sure to know
that if I made a mistake it was unintentional and purely an accident. I
must have done something right for Mister or Miss Wright because he was
whispering, "I'm going to cum," much quicker than I'd imagined.
	"I mean it," he said, pushing me off his cock. "If you don't want
me to cum in your mouth you need to stop now."
	"I gave him my sexiest smile and pushed my head as far down on his
cock as I could, fighting the gag reflex as the head slipped into the upper
part of my throat. Then, using all the suction I could manage to generate,
I slowly pulled back, until just the head was inside my lips and then did
it again, alternating between several short quick bobs of my head and long
deep sucks into my throat. In just a few seconds he groaned, "Here it
comes," and I glowed with pride as his cum flooded my mouth, having
successfully given my very first blowjob.
	As he caught his breath, I savored the taste of his jism, rolling
it around in my mouth, squeezing it between the gaps in my teeth. I was
still relishing taste and texture of his spunk when he pushed me back and
went after my pent-up load. Shortly I was filling his mouth with cum before
I swallowed his and then we laid back on opposite ends of the couch, two
very happy and satisfied cocksuckers.
	You see, at that moment I knew that I was a cocksucker and always
would be. I'd loved having my hands and then lips and tongue on his
cock. I'd loved how it felt to receive his cum, knowing I had made that
happen.
      So when he told me, "If you come over in the morning, we can do it
again," I never hesitated to make the date.
      "Sure," I told him. "I'd like that. And I'll talk to my mom if I
can. I think she just might go for it. You'll have to meet her. But not
dressed like that. She's pretty liberal, but I don't want to take a chance
on how she'd react."
      "No problem," he said as he helped me get the nightie up over my
head. Then he helped me out of the bra. "Just wait until you get to know
Gwen and Pauline too. I think you're really going to love living here."
      "Oh yeah. The cream pie thing. I know what that is now. I guess I
sounded pretty stupid huh?"
      "No stupider than I was at one time. We all go through it. That's how
we learn. There's a lot of things I can teach you that you'll never learn
from a text book."
      "Like how to be Michelle?"
      "Yeah. Like how to be Michelle. Looks like you're making a good start
if you've already picked out a name."
      Then, with the taste of cum in my mouth and a huge smile on my face,
I went home to put away the clothes I'd washed and contemplate how I was
going to introduce Josh and bring up his suggestion about living
arrangements. I knew if I did it right the taste in my mouth would be
repeated many times over and at that moment I couldn't think of ANYTHING I
wanted more. I was a cocksucker and proud of it!


This story can be continued. The person that told me this story went on to
tell me all about living with Josh all through college, admitting to his
mom they were lovers and eventually getting her blessing, and moving with
Josh to another city after Mike graduated, where the two still live
together three years later.

As always, comments appreciated: amber_fountaine@hotmail.com