Marge Russell pulled the wet clothes out of the front load washer. One towel fought her, caught on something inside. She knelt on the floor and poked her head inside. She saw the snag. In the back of the tub, the towel was stuck. She reached her arms in and squeezed her head and shoulders in. It was a tight fit, her skin scraping against the opening, but she finally managed to work her arms past her shoulders into the drum of the washer.

The inside was dark, but she had just enough light to see the problem. After some time tugging and working at the towel, she managed to loosen it and moved to pull herself out of the washer.

The problem now was that the small hole wouldn’t let her out. Her shoulders were too wide. No matter how she shifted her body or moved her arms, she couldn’t find a way to pull herself out.

“Fuck!” she shouted. She immediately regretted this as the sound reverberated around her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whispered this time.

Thoroughly stuck, head and shoulders inside her washer, she had to laugh at the silliness of her situation. It was something straight out of a porn movie. ‘What are you doing step-sister, are you stuck?’ The porn cliche was well-known, a private pleasure of hers. She thought it was highly amusing, and arousing that she was now living the reality of it.

She struggled some more, hoping that she could work herself out. But, to no avail. No matter how she shifted her body or her shoulders, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Bent over, her head and shoulders inside the washer, her ass swayed under her dress with her efforts. If her daughter or son saw her like this, she knew she’d just die of embarrassment.

Her favorite video played in her head. The buxom young porn starlet kneeling in front of a washing machine, ‘stuck’ inside. ‘What are you doing step-brother?’ when her stepbrother finds her and begins fondling the helpless woman.

In her favorite porn, the hunky step-brother with the large cock finds his step-sister. Sometimes in the washer, sometimes under the bed, and the always ridiculous hand stuck in the couch, but of course, they weren’t really stuck. He has his way with her, peeling off her pants and panties, in a ruse to help her. “You are really stuck, step-sister. I know what, how about I fuck you loose?” Totally silly, but also really fucking hot. Being taken advantage of when she couldn’t resist him turned her on.

Unbidden, the image of her son popped into her head. She’d seen him look at her. She knew that he thought he was being sneaky looking down her top, or looking at her ass as she walked by him. But she knew exactly what he was thinking. Because she was thinking the same thing as she looked at him. She wore the tops that would allow him peeks at her cleavage and the tightest yoga pants she could find that lifted and separated her ass cheeks for him to stare at.

He’d matured into a handsome, hunky guy. As a footballer, he was the spitting image of his father when he was in college, lean and tall. More than once she’d guiltily rubbed her pussy to orgasm while she imagined what he did with the cheerleaders that always draped themselves over him after games. Surely he was giving those little sluts the pounding they wanted, that she knew they begged him for. She watched them, jealously remembering what it was like to snag the star player for a pounding in the back of his car.

Her fantasy morphed into her son finding her, stuck somewhere, like the washing machine. She was getting more excited by the moment. The thought of him fucking her where she couldn’t get away, and she had to take what he gave her. A moan escaped her lips. If she could touch herself, she’d make herself cum so many times ... nothing like the disappointing hookups she had found using apps.

She’d seen him enough times around the house with an erection that he seemed to barely try to hide from her, almost as if he was trying to tempt his mother.

Stuck here in the washer, she was dripping wet thinking of his cock ravishing her while she couldn’t do anything to stop him.

The cold metal of the machine pressed against her breasts through her thin dress. Her nipples, almost painfully erect, rubbed the metal as she moved. She wished she could reach them to stimulate herself.

Thankfully the towel that had gotten stuck was in the washer with her. She was able to bunch it up under her head for a makeshift damp pillow.

She soon drifted to sleep and dreamt of her son finding her. The front door slamming shut woke her.

“Help!” she yelled. The yell deafened her, but her daughter, Jane, rushed in.

“Oh my god.” Jane Russell looked at the sight before her. She laughed out loud at her mother’s predicament.

“Jane, help me. I’m stuck. I need you to get me out of here.”

“How did you get yourself stuck in there?” Jane watched her mother’s ass shake as she struggled to extricate herself again from the hole in the washing machine.

“I was trying to get a towel out that was snagged, but I got stuck.”

“OMG, mom, it’s like something out of a porn.” Jane chuckled.

“Help Me,” she cried desperately.

“Okay, let me try.” Jane grabbed Marge’s hips and pulled. “Mom, I’m going to pull. Put your arms straight ahead.”

“Aghhh! Stop, stop! My arms are stuck. I can’t get past my shoulders.

Jane surveyed the situation. Her mother with her head in the washer. She’d always enjoyed looking at her mother, though she’d never acted on it. She never imagined that she’d ever be able to do anything with her. Her own nighttime frigging frequently involved fantasies of her mother laying between her legs eating her to multiple orgasms.

Even at 40, her mother was a smoke show. Her girlfriends teased her about having the hottest mom of any of them. Even though she acted like they were crazy, she agreed with them. Jane hoped she’d be as hot as her mom at her age.

Jane pulled again and stopped when Marge screamed. She reached in and felt her situation.

“Yeah, you’re really stuck in there.” Jane sat back and thought for a moment. “You know, I’ve thought of you. A lot. You walk around teasing Jimmy with your big ass, and your big tits in your loose tops. Your nipples poking through your top, teasing him.” Her hands reached around and held the hanging breasts. Marge’s nipples quickly hardened from Jane’s fingers caressing. “You tease me too, Mom.”

Marge moaned at her daughter’s contact. She had no idea that Jane thought of her that way. She’d never acted in any way to entice her daughter.

“No bra. Jesus, Mom, your nips are so hard.” Jane squeezed and pulled on her mother’s hard nipples through her thin dress, causing her to moan. The sensations sent electrical shocks to her clit.

Jane knelt down and lifted Marge’s dress over her ample bottom. Her pussy was wet and her lips were swollen with excitement. “Oh, you little tramp Mom, no underwear?”

“I was low on panties and needed to wash them. I didn’t think I’d get stuck in this damn machine.”

“Okay, okay,” Jane chuckled. Her Mother’s ass enticed the younger woman. Her mother could fill out a pair of jeans. She rubbed her hands all over the fleshy mounds, enjoying the feeling of caressing them.

Marge jerked her hips when she felt the fingers slide along her nether lips. “Jane, please...,” she said plaintively.

“You don’t like that?”

“No, it’s not that. I feel so vulnerable like this. Like you could do anything to me, and I couldn’t stop you.”

Fingers spread her lips open, and Jane’s hot breath blew on her moist pussy. “Unghh.”

“Mom, have you ever been with a woman before?”

“Uhm, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Fingers caressed her clit. “Tell me about it.”

She sighed and said, “I was in college and I had a crush on this girl. She was cute and so petite. But she wasn’t like that. She had a boyfriend and I couldn’t work up the nerve to tell her.”

“What happened?” The fingers danced along her lips, teasing and arousing. They slipped in and out of her opening. Just long enough to tease, not enough to satisfy.

“Uhmm, Mmmm.”

“Yes,” Jane asked.

“Nothing happened, I chickened out.” Marge dropped her head onto the wet towel. “I couldn’t tell her how I felt.” Her voice was barely audible to her daughter. “I met your dad and we started dating...”

The fingers stopped. “Did you ever tell her?”

“No. I was afraid.” Marge’s voice was small. “Afraid to ruin our friendship.”

Marge felt a kiss on her back. “I’m not afraid, Mom. I’ve wanted to be with you for a while now. I play with myself at night and wish you were with me. Between my legs, licking me, fingering me.” Jane hugged her mother as best as she could when one of them was stuck half in a washing machine and kneeling on the floor.

Marge felt Jane’s body lift up.

Her fingers explored her mother’s pussy. She ran her tongue along her mother’s slick slit.

“Oh god, Jane. Keep doing that.” Jane ran her tongue up and down her mother’s pussy. The fragrance was turning her on like nothing else had.

“This is what I imagine you doing to me, Mom. I lay in bed and fantasize about your tongue on my pussy, eating me out.”

Marge moaned from her daughter’s tongue on her and from the confession. Her college roommate was a long lost cause, but knowing that her daughter thought of her the same way was incredibly arousing.