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Dirty Laundry

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Going into that particular laundromat on a Saturday had been a fluke, or possibly a gift from the universe that usually just shit on him.

 

His preferred laundromat, the one right around the corner from his house burnt down in a fire caused by faulty appliances- which shouldn’t be surprising considering the place was a dump and half the machines ate your clothes.

 

But it had always been empty when he needed it and although he tries to keep track of what he’s worn he occasionally screws up and has to wash everything at once. So the place being empty was a good thing if he had to strip down to his boxers and leather vest, no one would be there to care or scare away depending on how you look at it.

 

But that all ended with the fire.

 

Which is why he’s here, at Tub O’ Suds, the only other laundromat in this small town. It’s definitely an upgrade. Hell, it even has a name. His was just called Laundromat. Simple. But Daryl prefers things to be simple.

 

Tub O’ Suds is located on the other side of town, other meaning good side and yes small towns can have a good and bad side. Everything in this place is clean and shiny. They’ve even got baskets on wheels to bring stuff in from your car. He’s got a black plastic garbage bag. An actual laundry basket isn’t an option on his motorcycle.

 

The best thing about it though- it’s empty.

 

Or it was until she walked in.

 

‘She’ is a beautiful little thing in a tank top and mini skirt that should be illegal. Her blonde hair definitely doesn’t come from a bottle and it’s pulled back in a ponytail that shows off the sweet curve of her neck. She’s wearing a pair of pink flip-flops that match her tank top.

 

Two seconds ago he’d been tossing his stuff in a machine that he didn’t have to kick to close and relishing in the fact that the place was empty. Now he realizes he’s been staring long enough to notice every single detail about her.

 

He can add the fact that she’s wearing lavender panties which he accidentally (or not) notices when she bends over in that too short miniskirt to grab a sock that fell out of her basket.

 

When she stands back up their eyes meet, hers are wide, blue innocence until she gives him the once over and blushes as she lowers her gaze. He feels his own face heating up as if she’s caught him in his boxers.

 

“Oh! I thought I was alone! Last Saturday no one came in at all.” Her voice is soft and musical and it does things to him. Things he likes, a lot.  

 

“Ya come in here every Saturday?” She’s shaking her head and opening the washer one down from his.

 

“Not usually. The washers in my apartment laundry room are having maintenance done on them. They weren’t up to code or something. So I’m here again. But it’s nice to have company.” She’s blushing again.

 

“Prolly ain’t the kinda company ya want…”

 

“That’s not true! You’re…” Damned if she ain’t looking at him like she wants to eat him! That’s it, that’s what the look from before was! She’s looking at him like he’s a hot slice of pepperoni pizza and she’s starving.

 

“Go on, spit it out girl, what am I?”

 

“You’re very attractive Mr.?” Very attractive? He’s never been called that, and he’s been called a lot of things.

 

“Daryl,” he chokes out because she’s walking towards him and she’s even more beautiful up close. She also looks a little nervous. Kind of like he’s feeling.

 

“Mr. Daryl. I’m Beth,” she says holding out her hand.

 

“Jus’ Daryl.” Her hand in his is so small and delicate. And awfully soft. Rubbing his calloused thumb along the skin makes him shiver and when she giggles softly he jerks his head up and realizes he got lost touching Beth’s hand.

 

“Your thumb is so rough,” she says quietly and maybe a little seductively he thinks. Although he isn’t quite sure what seductive sounds like. It has to be a lot like her though.

 

“Sorry about that,” he says pulling his hand away and feeling like a complete idiot. Touching her like that she probably thinks he’s some kind of pervert. But she was the one who just said he was attractive. So.

 

“Don’t be. I liked it.” She does this thing then, where she gets a hold of her lip with her teeth and tugs at it and Daryl’s really glad he’s not standing there in his boxers right now. At least his jeans will kind of hide the fact that he’s got a fucking hard on. He thought touching her was bad if she sees the that she’ll probably run off and call the cops.

 

Clearing his throat he turns so that he’s leaning into the washing machine which could quite possibly be the worst thing he could do. The machine is on and it’s vibrating gently against his cock.

 

Fuck.

 

Grabbing his garbage bag he tries to hold it nonchalantly in front of the lump in his jeans.

 

“I, uh, ‘m gonna have a smoke…” Hurrying towards the door he tries not to look at her but he can’t help but steal a quick peek through the glass window as he rushes over to his bike.

 

What the hell does she want from him? And what the hell is he thinking talking to her and being all friendly? He doesn’t talk and he’s not friendly.

 

After a quick smoke, he’s feeling a little more in control and he heads back inside. Beth has her washer going and she’s humming as she sorts through her basket. But her voices stops him in his tracks as he’s walking to his washer. He glances up at her.

 

“Everything okay?” she asks eyes flicking from his face to his crotch and back again. Instead of nodding he swallows hard and hears a little click in his throat.

 

“Uh, yeah.” As long as she doesn’t look at him or talk to him or acknowledge his existence in any way. But that’s obviously not going to happen because she’s headed his way.

 

“I think your first load is ready for the dryer Daryl.” Looking from her to the washer that’s no longer vibrating he grunts and starts unloading his wet stuff carrying it across the room to the dryer. He turns to go back for more and she standing there with a basket.

 

“You could use a basket… to take it all at once.”

 

“Kinda bossy ain’t ya?” he growls glancing at her quickly. If he looks her full on there could be trouble. It’s already stirring.

 

“I can be. If you like that sort of thing.” She’s flirting with him! No doubt about it. He’s at a laundromat on a Saturday night and a beautiful girl is flirting with him.

 

The universe might actually kind of like him.

 

Beth sure seems to like him.

 

So he’s just gonna go with. Enjoy it while it lasts. As long as he keeps his lower body out of sight he’ll be good. Digging through his last load of laundry he realizes that the pants he’s wearing are gonna need to be washed too. Which really hasn’t been a problem. Until now.

 

“Fuck!” he says a little louder than he intends.

 

“Something wrong Daryl?” She keeps saying his name and hearing it, her saying it makes him feel like that damn vibrating washing machine had.

 

“I, uh, gottawashthesejeanstoo, “ he blurts out so fast it sounds like he’s speaking a different language.

 

But apparently, she speaks it too.

 

“Oh! I was in that same predicament too! That’s why I’m wearing this really short-” Tugging at the hemline of the jean skirt she ducks her head but Daryl can see the blush creeping down her neck.

 

“Ain’t bad- ya got pretty legs.” Pretty legs? Did he just say that? Out loud? Why is he talking?

 

‘“Thank you- Daryl.” She’s doing it on purpose- she is! She knows exactly how it’s affecting him. He must have some kind of tell on his face when she does it. She’s good. And that’s a problem. “I can keep an eye out for you if you need to.. I won’t look.”

 

“Got boxers on girl!”

 

“Ooohh okay- then I can just, you know, keep watch.” She’s standing there with her hands on her hips and a little smile on her face watching him instead of the door.

 

He’s frustrated and extremely turned on and if she wants to play it this way- he will. Fuck it! What has he got to lose? He’s the winner here tonight! With his eyes locked on hers, he pops the button on his jeans and lets them fall.

 

Her eyes widen just a little and he sees the pink tip of her tongue run along her bottom lip.

 

“Your boots-” she breathes as she moves closer.

 

“Uh uh, stop right there,” Daryl says holding his hand out. She does as he asks and for that he’s thankful. He kicks off his boots and his pants follow. Standing there in his boxers and leather vest there’s no hiding the fact that his body likes her body. And her smile. And the way she says his name. And the fact that she can be bossy if he likes that kind of thing.

 

Her eyes widen even more and she looks like she might be a little scared.

 

“Oh! Daryl... I”

 

“ ‘S yer fault! Jus’ keep on talking an-” She’s pointing at something behind him and glancing over his shoulder he sees a group of people, laundry baskets in tow, headed right for the glass door.

 

He feels her hand wrap around his wrist and then she’s pulling him away from the washers and towards the back of the building.

 

“Come on, there has to be a restroom... in here!”

 

Her ass is pressed up against him as she pulls the door closed behind her. Turns out it isn’t a bathroom at all but some kind of storage closet and it’s a tight fit. Which isn’t really a bad thing.

 

“I don’t think anyone saw, oh…” She’s turned herself around now and she’s up close and personal with his boxers that don’t hide a thing.

 

“Damn! I’m sorry Beth… ‘s just yer so fucking beautiful and ya came in wearing that skirt and flashing a smile and yer just well yer so goddamn sexy, I’m only a man… I can’t-”

 

“You think I’m sexy?” Those big doe eyes are looking up at him and fuck if she isn’t pulling the innocent look on him again. He’s doesn’t think for a second she’s all that innocent, but…

 

“Hell yeah, and ya got me all.. ya know… all…” he’s at a loss for words and air and her mouth is right there, so close.

 

She whispers, “hard” and he’s done. Cupping her face in his hands he leans down and kisses her, the force of it backs her into the door, thumping her head against it. It takes everything in him to drag his mouth from hers.

 

“Jesus, Beth ‘m sorry…”

 

“Stop saying you’re sorry… I’m not sorry, I just… I don’t do things like this, I’m not that kind of girl, but you’re… it’s your fault I want you!” Her chest is heaving and he’s just now thinking about the fact that she has boobs and she’s probably gonna let him touch them.

 

Pressing against her, trapping her between his own chest and the door he brushes his lips against her neck, kisses his way up to the soft pink shell of her ear.

 

“Ya want me?” He feels her nod against him and she’s trembling but he knows she’s not scared. Not at all. “What do ya want me ta do girl?” Her whole body shudders and he slides his arms around her waist holds her steady.

 

“Everything…” Sliding his hands underneath her tank top he pulls it up and off when she raises her arms. He fumbles with the clasp on the back of her lace bra and she’s running her hand over his length in his boxers. Cupping a breast in his hand he leans down and teases the nipple with his tongue. He does the same to the other one long enough to get her breathing heavy again. Now they’re down to just her skirt and panties. She starts to take it off and he stops her.

 

“Lemme.” A button and zipper and then he’s sliding the little mini skirt over her thighs to the floor.

 

Lavender panties. Quite possibly the catalyst to all of this.

 

“Gonna have ta let me take them panties home,” he says huskily.

 

“You got a panty fetish, Daryl?” Her voice is thick with desire and his cock jerks in response to it.

 

“I sure as fuck do now…” he whispers hooking a finger in the delicate elastic band and running it along her soft skin up to her hip and then he pulls them down enough for her to step out of them. Then he balls them up and sticks them in the pocket of his vest.

 

Laughter from the other side of the door freezes them both for a second but does nothing to ruin the mood. There’s a ladder leaning against the wall and it’s the perfect height and angle. Reaching down and picking her up he sets her on one of the rungs. Tossing his vest on top of a box of paper towels he pushes his boxers down and kicks them to the side. A sudden thought has him frozen like the laughter.

 

“Beth I ain’t got nothing… my wallets in my saddlebag…” Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t do this either. Well not quite like this anyway.

 

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill, now hurry.. come on Daryl!” Still bossy and it’s kinda hot. Moving between her legs she’s got perched on the rung below her he slides a hand up underneath her ponytail intending to mess up her blonde hair.

 

“Sure ‘bout this?” he’s being serious. All lust and want and sweet little titties aside he’s got to make sure she’s okay because…

 

Because he can tell she isn’t that kind of girl, she didn’t even have to say anything. He can see it in her eyes. But for some reason, she wants to be with him. Maybe it’s just a one-time thing and maybe it’ll be something more. He’s hoping for the later, but regardless he’s gonna make it something she won’t forget. He sure as hell hope he doesn’t.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure…” she breathes rubbing a small hand across his chest, letting her fingers play over his nipples. Taking a hold of his cock with one hand, he grasps her thigh in the other and slides his hand along it until he’s cupping her pussy. It’s smooth and practically hairless. Brushing his fingers over her slit he groans as he pushes two inside. She’s wet and so warm, he wants to be buried inside of her, wants to feel her pussy wrapped around his cock like it’s wrapped around his fingers. Pulling them out he spreads her open, rubs the head of his cock in circles around her clit before sinking into her.  

 

She whimpers and wiggles forward a little so she can wrap her legs around his waist. He braces himself with a hand against the wall behind her and kisses her, nipping at her bottom lip. Easing his hips back a little, he pulls out enough to buck up into her.

 

“Oh... my… god…” she moans softly.

 

Grinding his pubic bone against her clit he slides a hand back into her hair and tugs on it so she has to look up.

 

“Ain’ gonna go slow.. just gonna fuck ya okay? Hard and fast ‘fore we get caught.” Her lips are parted and she’s murmuring something he can’t quite make out so he leans in closer.

 

“Just make me come, Daryl…”

 

He plans on it.

 

Hard and fast like he said. He does have enough wits about him to slide his hands under her ass before he slams into her. Ignoring the shaking ladder and the shelf behind it he keeps up a steady rhythm relishing in sounds he’s causing.

 

He thinks he’s got the advantage now, he’s in control, and then she goes and throws that all to hell as she snakes a hand between them and his balls are in her hot little hand.

 

“Fuck!” He doesn’t back away, in fact, he leans into her because the sensation is amazing. But he’s right there on the edge so he’s gonna help her out. She shudders and almost falls off of the ladder as his fingers graze her clit. She’s moaning his name, her pussy clenching around his cock and that’s what finally does it for him.

 

“Daryl…” The moan is drawn out into a whine as he grasps her thighs, hitches them higher up onto his hips and thrusts into her once, twice and then his climax hits him, sending shockwaves up and down his spine. Sliding his arms around her back he holds onto her, his knees are weak and shaky and he shivers as she runs her hands up over his chest.

“That was… amazing,” she murmurs. Amazing is an understatement. It doesn’t even begin to describe any of this. From the minute she walked into the laundromat until now.

 

“Yeah, it was… was good.” Good... that’s it? He’s not so cocky anymore, doesn’t know how to talk to her all of a sudden.

 

“I mean you’ve probably had lots of…” Why does she sound as nervous as he feels? She instigated all of this. It was her and her lavender panties and his name on her soft pink lips.

 

“Ain’t never had nothing like this.” He can hear that he has a tone, and she must have heard it too because she’s looking at him like she doesn't quite know what to make of it. His scalp is prickling, little pinpoints of heat and his skin suddenly feels too tight.

 

Voices on the other side of the door relieve him of having to elaborate on exactly what he meant by that comment because, to be honest, he doesn’t know where it came from. He knows where this is going. Sex with a pretty stranger in the supply closet of a hotel isn’t exactly the beginning of some corny love story. Is it?

 

“How are we going to get out of here?” That’s a good question. She’s scrambling for her clothes and it’s awkward and nerve-wracking but they both manage to get dressed and avoid looking to long at one another.

 

He feels the lump in his pocket. Her lavender panties. She really ought to wear them. Especially with that too short mini skirt, she’s got on. Pulling them out of his pocket he holds them out to her.

 

“Might wanna put these on too,” he says smiling a little.

 

“I thought you wanted to keep them?” He can’t be sure but it looks like she might be a little disappointed.

 

“Can’t let ya walk out there in that skirt with nothin’ underneath..”

 

“Oh, right.” Giggling a little she takes them and he glances away while she struggles to get them on in the small space.

 

He’s got his boxers on but he’s not completely- soft. And she can see that.

 

“I’ll go first and-” And what? She’s waiting for him to give her something.

 

“I got a pair of sweats in the dryer, can ya-”

 

“Yes, yes… I can do that Daryl.”

 

Why’d she go and say his name? Fuck.

 

When she leaves he leans against the wall and takes a deep breath and once again he wonders what in the hell possessed a girl like her to do this- with him. Reaching down he pinches his leg, just to make sure he isn’t home in bed having the best dream he’s ever had.

 

The door clicks and she steps halfway in with the sweats in her hand. It’s not a dream and for that he is thankful.

 

“I put both of our loads in the dryers on the other side of the room.” She’s smiling at him and it’s an encouraging smile like it’s all gonna be okay. He nods and tugs on the sweats and follows her ignoring the stares he can feel as they walk over to the dryers.

 

Her basket and his black garbage bag are on a table with two piles of laundry. His and hers. She starts folding hers and making small talk and it’s like nothing ever happened and he’s not standing here in sweats cause they just had sex in the supply closet of the laundromat.

 

That’s not entirely true though. The way she keeps smiling up at him and the fact that they’re standing close enough to bump elbows occasionally as they fold their towels and socks gives him a funny feeling in his gut and the courage to clear his throat and ask,

 

“There’s a diner around the corner, wanna get some coffee or somethin’?” She hesitates for a minute and he’s sure this is definitely just a one-time thing and not something more.

 

“I, I’d like that- Daryl,” she smiles sweetly. Her smile gets even bigger when he huffs out a frustrated breath.

 

He’s definitely gonna have to change into his jeans before he goes anywhere with her.

 

And he’s getting those panties back before the night is over.

 

~fin