She was sitting cross-legged on top of a front-loading washer when he walked through the door.
He dropped his laundry.
She unfolded her legs and pulled her nightgown over her lap, but not before he thought he saw what she was doing.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said to her, intrigued, as he bent to lift his laundry basket again. "I didn't expect to see anyone. I was told no one uses the laundry late at night."
"They don't," she answered, somewhat shakily. "They don't. That's why I'm here."
"I see. Same here."
"Don't like crowds?"
"Not so much. Hey, have we met? I don't think I've seen you around."
"I don't think so. Ellen." She put her hand out to him.
"How do you know my name, then?"
"Huh? I don't."
"You just said it."
"No, I told you mine."
She looked quizzically as him. "Yeah, I said."
He walked up the machine, and shook her outstretched hand. "Yeah, sorry. I'm Alan."
"Huh? Oh. God, sorry."
"No problem. My fault." Alan bent to open the washer. As he reached down to grab some clothing from the basket, he noticed something on the floor. "Ah, these yours?"
Ellen wriggled forward, and then bent down, peering over the front of the washer until she saw them. "Ah, yes actually."
"You forget to put them in?"
"Not exactly, no."
"Oh?" Alan took another look. Thin white panties, almost transparent, with a lace front panel. The panel was scattered with small pastel flowers. "Pretty. Something ... wrong with them?" he looked back up at Ellen. She was grinning, and blushing.
"No. I ... look, there wasn't supposed to be anyone down here, see?"
"Yeah, you said."
"And so I just wore this nightgown." He'd noticed. It too was thin, and a very pale green. "Well, and the panties."
"And then ... I loaded the machine, and it was bouncing around ... and then it kinda got into a rhythm. Oh, perhaps I should just shut up."
"Oh, no, not now. Please continue."
"Look, I'd always heard that ... well that a washer would ... you know."
"Clean stuff?" Alan had loaded his machine, inserted a coin, and stood to look her in the eye.
"No, no."She hesitated before continuing. "I'm single, alright?"
"So am I."
"And I'd heard that you could get a buzz..."
"See, I should have shut up."
"No, no. It's alright. You look so embarrassed. You alright?"
"Yeah, I guess. God."
"So, Ellen, does it?"
"Give me a buzz?"
"Ahhh ... are you with the laundry police?"
"What the hell do they do?"
"Catch women getting off on the equipment, probably."
"No. No police."
"Yes, then. Yes, I was getting a buzz. Alright?"
"Oh. Sorry, Alan. How can I tell what to say?"
"I don't think there are rules. I'm sorry I interrupted."
"Or at least that I wasn't a little later."
"Oh, I wouldn't have been much ... Oh, shit."
"Yeah. Yeah, much longer."
Alan turned and hoisted himself up on the washer next to Ellen. "So ... what do you do?"
"Oh, I couldn't..."
"Of course you could. No strings. Come on."
"I'm ... I'm not convinced I'm thinking straight."
"I can still ... put your hand on the top here. Still feel it?"
"Oh, yeah, that's quite..."
"Oh. So Ellen, while you've been talking to me, you've been... distracted?"
"God. So ... going to finish?"
"Not ... how can I now? You're..."
"Look at me, Ellen. I will if you will."
"God, I can feel it now. It gets to you, doesn't it?"
"It sure gets to me. I've been tempted lots of times to find out..."
"But you never did?"
"Never. And all those times, no one walked in."
"I should apologise again. Instead, I'll make you a deal." He pushed his sneakers off his hanging feet.
"What sort of deal?"
"Well, whatever you'll do, I'll do something just as embarrassing."
"Sure you will."
"Alan, you're sitting here fully clothed. You already know I don't have much on."
"Okay, let me even things up a little."
"I dare ya."
"Accepted." He unzipped his jeans, wriggled out of them, and let them fall to the floor with his shoes, and Ellen's flowery panties.
"Hmmm ... You sure you're single?"
"Absolutely. Why else would I be taking my pants off in the laundry room?"
"Well I'm still at a disadvantage."
"Gimme a minute, would you? Are you like this on a date?"
"Half naked, you mean?"
"Bossy, I mean." Ellen watched closely as he pulled his boxers down off his ass, and let them float to the floor. The hem of his shirt fell in his lap, so she couldn't see anything she shouldn't, but the bulge lifting the shirt up was more than obvious. "How's that, then?"
"It's a whole lot more interesting than I thought the evening would be."
"You trusting me yet?"
"A little, perhaps."
"Okay, so you weren't sitting like that when I came in."
"No. I was ... cross-legged. But..."
"I will ... if you will."
"I'm not sure what a promise is worth at this point, but sure."
"Okay. First time for everything, I guess."
"I've never sat half-naked on a washer, so I know what you mean."
"Uh huh." Ellen stopped looking at him, blushing deeply, but pulled her nightgown up to her hips, showing that she was a real redhead, and crossed her legs again. There wasn't much point in being shy from then on. Everything was on display. Her labia were puffy, dark and damp. A hard clit protruded from its hood, desperate and ready. "Go on."
.... There is more of this story ...