Laundry Day, Part One (g,mast)

Lilly Marion stripped out of her school clothes, dancing in just her underwear to some unheard song. Catching a glimpse of her self in the mirror she started giggling. She kept dancing since no one was around to laugh at her. Well, besides herself and she kept giggling at how goofy she looked. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, had to stop, her side hurting from laughing so much.

She took a second to admire herself. Her mother was pale and blonde and her father black and she was a rich shade of brown, had big green eyes that shown brightly in her dark complexion and an unruly mop of kinky reddish brown hair that frame her adorable face. Just entering puberty, she was beginning to fill out in the hips and backside, had small breasts that were little more than puffy nipples. She thought she had lucked out, had all the best qualities of her parents.

Grinning, she found some shorts and a t-shirt to change into, then gathered up her dirty clothes. These were stuffed into her hamper. She smiled at her full laundry hamper, her heart racing as she thought there was at least two loads in it. Three if she made them really small. The thought of three loads made her shiver, then giggle. Most people didn’t get as excited about doing laundry as she did, she knew. She figured it was because they hadn’t discovered what she had about the washing machine. If they had, there wouldn’t be any more dirty laundry left in the world.

Giggling, again, she scooped up her hamper, then sat it back down. She decided dragging it was a better idea, it was so heavy. From her bedroom, she drug it down the upstairs hall, then bumped it down the stairs to the laundry room.

She smiled at the beat up washing machine, thinking the poor thing was older than she was. For more than eleven years it has been faithfully cleaning the Marion clan’s clothing, maybe longer. She had only been around that long, couldn’t say how long it had been a part of the family before she was.

Sorting through the hamper, she started loading her whites in the top. She didn’t have a lot, mostly just her unmentionables, but she knew from experience that whites had to be washed separate. She had a white dress with blue splotches in her closet that was proof of that.

It was a small load, which made her grin. Definitely a three load day.

She twisted the knob to the desired setting, then pulled it out to start the machine. Boosting herself up, she sat on the closed lid. She was wearing shorts and the cool metal felt nice against her bare thighs. Pulling her legs up until she sat Indian style, she felt a shiver work through her that had nothing to do with the the cool touch of the lid.

She pulled her heel in close, until it pressed against the crotch of her shorts. When the machine finished filling up and started its wash cycle, its faint vibrations transferred through her foot and into her very sensitive girlhood. She adjusted it until she found just the right spot, sighing as it sent more shivers through her.

The wash cycle didn’t feel bad, but she glanced at the knob, that last bit of the timer that marked the spin cycle. By the time the needle made it there, she’d be so excited, the spin cycle would be a sweet torture.

As it began to feel good, her body growing sensitive as she became aroused, she thought about how she discovered this, the sheer orgasmic joy of washing clothes. She had needed her cute pink dress to wear to school and was impatiently camped out in the laundry room waiting for it to finish washing so she could dump it in the dryer. She was sitting on the washer much like she was now, her heel tucked against her crotch. When the spin cycle had started, she had giggled at the washing machine shaking like crazy. Then she had noticed how funny she felt, was surprised to hear that first soft moan escape her parted lips. The vibrations sent little waves of pleasure coursing through her young body. A curious heat had blossomed between her thighs and she became very tender down there. Her heel was rubbing deliciously against her crotch and she couldn’t stop making these little noises, just wordless sounds of enjoyment.

She didn’t have an orgasm that first time but she made sure to be sitting on the machine the next time she washed clothing. The anticipation of that wonderful spin cycle had her a horny mess waiting on the dial to advance to that last little section. The magical section. That second time, she had her first orgasm, her hand clamped to her mouth to keep from crying out.

Thinking about that first orgasm, her breathing quickened and her heart raced. It had been the first time she had felt anything like it, the sensation so lovely she was hooked. From that day forward, her parents never had to ask her twice about doing her laundry.

It had been her first orgasm but not the last and not by a long shot.

The wash cycle was coming to an end, the water draining from the machine. She knew the machine’s pattern by heart. It would drain, then have to fill back up for the rinse cycle. It was a lull, a maddening lack of stimulation that drove her mad with longing. She wished it would just go and go until she was done with it.

Since it didn’t, she had to improvise. She sat up a little straighter, then rolled her hips back and forth, grinding her girlhood against her heel. It didn’t feel as nice as the vibrations from the washing machine but it still sent shivers of pleasure through her eleven year old body, would hold her over until the rinse cycle started.

Sometimes, at night, she’d do this with her fingers, rubbing the cotton crotch of her panties. She do it and do it until she was squirming on her bed, the covers kicked to the floor. Then, just like when the spin cycle was at its peak, she’d feel her body go crazy as she came. It was becoming her second favorite pass time.

The rinse cycle started and she moaned. She didn’t stop rocking her hips, the vibrations making it feel even better. Biting her lip, she reminded herself to keep quiet. It wasn’t easy, the washing machine making her want to lose control of her voice.

Her nipples were straining against the thin cotton of her t-shirt and she cupped her budding breasts until they ached sweetly. It drew a groan from her and her back arched at her own touch. Another groan, louder than the first, escaped her as she continued to knead them through her shirt. She glanced at the door to the laundry nook, hoped the machine was making enough noise to cover her noises.

The machine drained again, started refilling. She hated this, being frustrated when she was so close. It was like the washer was teasing her, wouldn’t let her come until it was good and ready. Brushing her hair out of her face, she sighed.

The second rinse started and she grinned. After this, it was the spin cycle. The machine began rocking again and she moaned as the vibrations worked through her body. This rinse was shorter than the first and it was draining, again, before she could really get started. She continued to grind against her heel, waiting impatiently for it to finish so the main event could start.

With a very audible clack of relays switching, the spin cycle started. The vibrations were so much stronger now and she had to bite her knuckle to keep quiet. The excitement, the ups and downs leading up to this had her worked up, so horny that even the knuckle wasn’t doing much. She didn’t need to think to roll her hips back and forth, anymore. She couldn’t have stopped if she tried, her body knowing what it wanted.

The spin cycle was only so long, so she needed to focus if she was going to come before it ended. Her hand found her breast, again, cupped it through her t-shirt. Closing her eyes, she focused on the wonderful things the washing machine was doing to her young body.

She was biting her knuckle so hard she was about to draw blood but it wasn’t doing any good. It was impossible to hold in the little cries that wanted to escape her. She could only hope the washing machine would mask them because it felt too good to stop now.

Tension entered her body and her eyes sprang open as she realized she was going to come. She glanced at the dial, saw she was almost out of time. Frantic, she pushed herself closer and closer to the edge, finally toppling herself in that blissful abyss. A startled cry escaped her as her body went crazy.

Through her post orgasmic haze, she was vaguely aware of the door to the laundry room opening. She gaped at her older sister standing in the open door with her basket of dirty clothes.

“What were you doing in here,” her sister asked, frowning. She gave Lilly a funny look, then started grinning, “Oh, wow. Sorry to interrupt. I’ll leave you two love birds alone.”

Lilly blushed bright red, gave her a dirty look. Laughing, her sister closed the door and let her regain her composure. She put her head in her hands, feeling the heat of her face against her palms. Her sister must have heard her cry out, must have guesses what she had been doing by the dazed look on her face.

“Oh God, this is so embarrassing,” she said, shaking her head. The girl was supposed to be off to college but must have came home to do some laundry. Just horrible timing, as far as Lilly was concerned.

Her sister poked her head in the door, said, “You could do my laundry if you need a few more minutes.”

“Shut up,” she said, laughing at her own expense. Her sister was laughing as she closed the door.

——————————————

 “Here, I bought you something,” her sister said, tossing an oblong gift wrapped in festive paper on the bed beside her.

Picking it up, she looked at the girl, “What is it?”

“Something to keep your clothes from fading so much,” she said, laughing.

“What are you talking about,” Lilly asked, frowning.

“You’ll figure it out,” she said, turning to leave, “I went ahead and put some batteries in it for you, so it is good to go.”

“Okay,” she said, looking from her sister to the gift back to her sister, “Thanks, I think.”

“Oh, you’ll thank me later,” she said, then was gone.

Frowning, she tore open the wrapping, read the writing on the side of the box, “Intimate massager, three variable speeds?”

Continue to Part Two

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