Date: Sun, 9 Jun 2002 23:44:03 EDT
From: NJRimzu@aol.com
Subject: Fun At The Laundromat      [Gay Encounters}

If you are under age, or live in an area where reading tales of male sex is
illegal, or if you're not into this, please leave. Otherwise, I hope you
have some fun with this story. It took place in a time when all sex was
safe so today's precautions were not taken. Please respect yourself and
others enough to always play safe. Comments are appreciated.

I was 21 when I got my first apartment. It wasn't much. Actually, it was a
slum, but it was all I could afford and I didn't want to have to deal with
a roommate, so I took it.  Having grown up in suburbia, I was kind of
spoiled by the little luxuries in my parent's house. But what I really
missed the most was not a luxury, but a necessity-a washer and dryer. How I
hated going to the Laundromat to wash my clothes. It took a couple of
hours, which killed an entire evening and was so boring. I'd usually wait
until every single thing I owned needed to be washed, then I'd bite the
bullet, grab a book and all of my clothes and go to the nearest laundry,
about 6 blocks up the street. While my clothes were washing and drying, I'd
sit in a really uncomfortable plastic chair and try to read my book,
ignoring the other customers as much as possible.

Then one Tuesday night, my whole view of doing the laundry changed. I got
there late, almost too late to start washing. There were only a couple of
other customers there, just finishing up. I filled the machines with my
clothes and went to the counter in the back for change. And there he
was-the most beautiful blonde boy I had ever seen. He was about 5'6", 130
pounds and had piercing blue eyes. I actually gasped when I first saw him,
and stuttered when I asked for change. When he handed me the quarters, he
gave me the most beautiful smile, showing off the cutest dimples.

I got the machines started and then picked a chair facing his counter, sat
down and tried to read my book, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. He
picked up on it right away, and began flirting with me. The front of the
counter was solid, except at one end where the counter top flipped up,
providing the entrance to the area in the back. He stood at that end of the
counter, so I could see him above the waist over the counter and below the
waist under the counter. He had his hands in his pants pockets and
definitely seemed to be playing with himself, smiling at me all the
while. The only other customer left went over to the counter to ask him a
question and he quickly stepped behind the covered portion.  Once the
customer had gathered her clothes together and left the building, he
stepped back over to where I could once again see all of him. And all of
him is what I saw. His pants and underwear were around his ankles.

I jumped up, crossed the room and reached under the counter to touch
him. He let me grab his dick and fondle it for a few seconds, but then
stepped back, saying it was too open there.

"Go in the men's room and wait for me while I lock up."

So I went where he pointed and waited a few seconds. He came into the room
and was all over me, hugging me, kissing me, grabbing me. He was like a
wild man. He practically ripped my clothes off me and stripped himself in a
flash. As hot as he had been clothed, he was even better naked. Smooth,
white, practically hairless skin, slender hips and the cutest little bubble
butt. And his cock was one of the most unusual ones I'd ever seen. It was
about 6" and average in thickness, but what a head! I've heard of mushroom
heads and this was certainly one. The head had to be twice as thick as the
shaft. It was just huge. I dropped to my knees and took it in my mouth,
just licking and sucking the head like a lollipop. After a few minutes of
head worship, I tried to take the shaft. I've never been able to deep
throat long dicks, but I can usually take a six incher without a problem.
But the head was a problem. It was so thick it wouldn't go very far back in
my mouth.  After struggling with it a minute, he pulled his cock out of my
mouth and pulled me up and started kissing me wildly again. Then he quickly
turned around, bent over the sink, grabbed his ass with his hands and
spread his cheeks.

"Fuck me!" he demanded.

I looked at his tight pink pucker, looked quickly around the room for
something to use as lube and not seeing anything, followed my natural
instincts. I dove down and shoved my face into his crack and began licking
and sucking on his hot little hole. I slobbered all over it, getting it as
wet and slippery as I could.

"Enough," he panted, "I need your dick in me right now. Fuck me, please."

So I stood up behind him and placed the dry head of my dick against his wet
hole. I figured he was little and tight, and at his age couldn't have been
too experienced, so I was going to go slow. As I pressed the head into his
hole, it was like a vacuum action took over, and my whole cock was just
sucked into his ass in one swift smooth motion and I found my pubes rubbing
against his cheeks.

"Now fuck me! Hard! Slam it into me! Fuck me!"

Who am I to refuse a reasonable request from a polite young man? Of course,
I did just as he asked. I fucked him like a crazy man, slamming in and out
of him as hard as I could, feeling his ass muscles grab and squeeze my dick
every time I pulled out, then relaxing to let it slam back in. I reached
around and grabbed his dick, stroking him in rhythm with our fucking. I
yanked him as hard as I could, my hand hitting up against the underside of
the mushroom head each time. I was afraid of hurting him, but he wasn't
complaining. In fact, after just a few minutes of that, I could feel the
first contraction in his dick, and he began shooting, over and over, five
or six strong streams of teenage cum. And with each spurt, he tightened his
ass, bringing me to the edge. I shot time after time into him, emptying my
balls in his hot boy pussy.

After we had cleaned up, he helped me fold my dry laundry and we talked a
little. He was a junior at the local high school (I had no idea he was that
young) and worked there part time. His schedule varied, but he was always
there Tuesday nights. Needless to say, I began doing my laundry on a much
more regular basis, every Tuesday, as a matter of fact. And it was never a
boring, wasted night.