Flash Fiction – Laundry Day
Here is my answer to Changeling’s Flash Fiction Fetish Call!
***
Cold water blasted over John’s back, jerking him wide awake, and he howled, his sexual frustration flowing into red-hot rage.
That damn prissy woman is doing laundry again.
John stormed out of the shower stall, grabbing a towel as he moved through the house he’d needed her rent money to repair.
The soft Egyptian cotton tented around his rock hard erection. He needed a hell of a lot more than her rent money but that fuckfest wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, not with a woman like her.
Her soft moans echoed off the hallway walls and he ground his teeth. John had never known laundry was so strenuous, not before Miss Tight Ass moved in.
He shoved the door to the laundry room open, breaking the flimsy lock, and he stopped short, all of the breath, all of his rage whooshing from his body.
His dainty new roommate sat on the top loading washing machine with her legs spread, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her pure white panties pulled down to her ankles, and a huge fluorescent green dildo rammed between her pink pussy lips.
John’s mouth dried. Doing laundry had never looked so good.
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