I had known Chrissy ever since she was a prepubescent teenage girl growing up next door. Early on she had frequently come over to spend time with my own daughter who was five years younger, and quite often baby-sitting for my ex-wife and I whenever we needed a sitter for one reason or another. After my divorce, there was little reason for her to come over as when I did have my daughter for the weekend, I never went anyplace without her, though even then Chrissy usually made an appearance to say hello and spend some time with my daughter even with the age difference between them.
By the time Chrissy had graduated from high school, I fully expected that she would head off to college someplace and that I would rarely if ever see her again. To my surprise, she elected to live at home and attend a nearby Junior college instead. I always enjoyed her short brief visits when she would sometimes just drop by to see how I was doing. After my divorce, and with her now being of age, I sometimes allowed myself to flirt with her a little, something I had purposely refrained from doing when she was younger, and while married. But at twice her age, it was an innocent flirtation with absolutely no expectations whatsoever, especially as we’d established a long-term friendly relationship over the years that I wasn’t about to jeopardize. And, Chrissy had flirted back, which certainly stroked my ego, though I never took her flirtation very seriously any more than she did mine. It was always good-natured banter back and forth with sexual undertones that were never meant to develop into anything.
I was in the process of doing some much needed laundry one Saturday when Chrissy dropped by for one of her chance visits.
“Here, why don’t you let me sort that out for you,” she told me. She giggled as she took the bundle of laundry that I had already half-stuffed into the washer and began resorting out the colors from the whites. “As a matter of fact David, why don’t you let me come in once a week and do your laundry for you?” She stated simply. “If I do that, it won’t be nearly so bad as this is.”
She was sorting through a month’s worth of dirty clothes. It had even gotten to the point that I’d gone out and bought clean underwear rather than wash any. “You sure?” I asked. “You wouldn’t mind?”
I felt awkward asking her, and agreeing to her suggestion, but the simple truth was, I hated having to do my own laundry, and obviously I wasn’t very good at doing it either. Once again she laughed and told me she’d be happy to do it for me. I told her that I would pay her of course, which she readily agreed to as well as I knew she could use the extra money for school, but that was only after she informed me that that would include some general house cleaning duties as well then, in addition to doing my laundry. Once again I agreed, happy and delighted that I would be seeing her a little more frequently than I had been, already appreciating her taut little body as she stood in a pair of tight fitting shorts and a tank top that did little if anything in concealing the near perfect curve of her pert young breasts.
As promised, Chrissy came in once a week on Saturdays to change the sheets on my bed, (something I hadn’t asked her to do) did my laundry, and vacuumed and dusted whenever she thought it needed it.
I had been looking forward to seeing her the next Saturday when she informed me that she had something else she needed to do that day, so would be coming over on Sunday instead. I was slightly disappointed that I might miss seeing her as I had a committed golf outing with some friends that I couldn’t really get out of. Having a key, I told Chrissy that I’d probably be gone when she came over, but to go ahead and let herself in to do whatever she felt needed doing.
With only three of us playing, our round went a lot quicker than I had anticipated, and rather than hanging around for lunch, I made excuses and drove home hoping to spend a little time with her before she’d finished up and canlı bahis şirketleri gone home. Pulling into the drive, I was pleased to find that the back door wasn’t locked, which meant that in all likelihood she was still there. I didn’t exactly announce myself by making a lot of noise when I came in, but I didn’t make it a point of calling out her name or telling her I was there either. I stood for a moment in the kitchen area just listening, but couldn’t hear her walking around upstairs, but then the sound of the dryer being turned on alerted me where she was. I opened the door to the basement and made my way downstairs figuring to surprise her, though the reasoning behind that escaped me for some reason. And surprised she was, as we both were, she was indeed doing my laundry, as well as her own. It was obvious that she’d just sorted out some whites, and had then stripped off her own clothing adding them to my own. She stood in front of the washing machine with her back towards me as she finished depositing my clothes and hers into the washer. I stood there holding my breath, unsure of what to do or say, already trying to formulate a plan where I could quietly make my escape back up the stairs before she realized I was there. Unfortunately, it was at that very moment that she turned and saw me standing there staring at her.
“David! Good God you scared the hell out of me!” she stated actually jumping when she did, though she made absolutely no move to try and cover herself upon seeing me.
“Sorry,” was all I could manage. “Just got home, thought I heard you down here,” I said lamely.
She smiled, recovering herself, though she still had made no effort to conceal her obvious nudity from me.
“Hope you don’t mind, but since you didn’t have all that much white laundry to do, I’ve been washing some of my own with yours.”
“Mind? No…of course not,” I said grinning, feeling a little sheepish as we stood there discussing the laundry as though it was the most natural thing to be doing in the world with her standing there naked in front of me.
After a long pregnant pause when the awkwardness of the moment was becoming obvious, she spoke. “I hope this doesn’t offend you,” she told me, openly holding her hands out to either side of herself, putting herself on display for my perusal. “I’ve always been a bit of an exhibitionist anyway, and running around in the nude most of the time is something I’ve just gotten used to.”
I immediately had a mental image of her running around like that at home and wondered about what her parents thought, then added the image of her making my bed, dusting, vacuuming in the nude as well, the image of all that was still with me as I answered.
“Of course not, no!” I told her, “It doesn’t bother me at all, at least not in a bad way,” I added, surprised I had done so, but finding the flirtatious comment as being one too good to pass up.
She laughed at that and immediately jumped up to sit on the washer, obviously no longer concerned with being naked in front of me. I continued to stand there looking at her, feeling a bit silly with no more to add to our conversation at that point and wondering if I shouldn’t simply turn around and head back up the stairs.
“So tell me David, you ever see your wife do this?” she asked.
“Do the laundry naked? No…can’t say I ever did.”
Once again she laughed, shaking her head. “Not what I meant really, but not surprised to hear that either,” she commented. “No, what I was referring to was sitting on the washer while it’s going.”
That was an easy one for me as well. “Nope, can’t say I ever saw her do that either, why do you ask?”
I watched as Chrissy had planted both hands to either side of her on the washer, her legs spread hanging off the edge of the washer as she sat talking to me. The fact that I could see the perfect pink split of her inviting little quim didn’t seem to concern her one tiny little bit.
“Cause it feels really good, that’s why,” she canlı kaçak iddaa said easily. “That’s how I learned to masturbate,” she informed me, once again shocking me with surprise by her admission.
Dumbfounded, I continued to stand there saying nothing, though still looking at her.
“I’ve been doing this for years, though not nearly as often as I used to do when I was younger. But ever since I started doing your laundry for you,” she grinned adding a lusty sigh as the obvious vibrations from the washer caused her to do so as she sat there.
“Never even imagined such a thing,” I finally managed to say. Once again, she laughed at that.
“No, suppose not, not something I guess a guy would find quite as stimulating as a woman might, which is why I wondered if you’d ever seen your wife sitting on the washer before.”
Once again I thought back, but could never remember her having done so, let alone do the wash naked either.
“So David…what do you do to get yourself off?” she asked me point blank. “Or are you seeing someone?”
“No, I’m not, not yet anyway.” I said answering the second question. “Only my hand,” I found myself saying, surprised when I did, answering the first one.
“Yeah, me too,” she grinned, “though I do enjoy trying other things to see how they feel too,” she boldly told me. “You ever do anything anyplace else beside the bed?” she asked.
As I mentioned, Chrissy and I had teased and flirted before, but never to this degree, and never this explicitly in our chats either. “Not really, no.” I found myself admitting. “Though we did do it a few times in the car,” I actually told her. Chrissy shook her head knowingly.
“Yeah, me too…but I’ve never found that as comfortable or as fun as some of the other places I’ve tried.”
I merely shook my head, though now finding myself hoping she’d continue and tell me some of the places she had done it, or been doing it.
“Never done it on a washing machine before though, just sat on one and let the vibrations masturbate me. Would you like to try it?”
She was looking at me straight in the eye. “I just asked if you’d like to fuck me,” she said now very seriously. “So…would you?”
“Good God Chrissy, I’m twice your age!” I said speaking the obvious.
“Yeah, and twice as experienced too!” she tossed back at me. “So…wanna try it?”
I couldn’t believe I was actually standing there contemplating it, actually looking at her, or rather actually looking directly at her now even more exposed pussy which she’d just spread for me even more invitingly than it had been.
“I think the height of the washer’s a bit much,” I informed her, disbelief in my own tone of voice that I was actually considering it as I surveyed the washer and the height of where my own now very hard cock was actually pressing against my pants. Something she seemed to notice as well.
“Try the step-stool,” she said pointing.
I’d forgotten I even had one as I’d never had to use it. Glenn, my ex-wife had used it whenever she needed to get out fresh towels, or cleaning detergent, as she was considerably shorter than I was. I picked it up, setting it down in front of the washing machine where I now stood on the lowest step standing between Chrissy’s legs.
“Maybe you should get undressed,” she informed me. “And besides, I think it would be a lot nicer that way, don’t you?”
I felt like I was in the middle of a dream. Seconds later I was as naked as she was, once again standing on the lowest step, the height perfect as she reached out to grasp my rock-hard prick, rubbing it against herself. She was already wet, her cunny glistening with juice as she rubbed and slapped the head of my dick against herself.
“Like that?” she asked.
“Ah huh,” I stammered, enjoying the sensations, enjoying the view as my hands tentatively reached out to cup each of those perfect pointed little breasts of hers.
“Oh yeah, I like having my tits played with,” she informed canlı kaçak bahis me. “Never feels quite as good as when I do it whenever I’m masturbating.”
“I know what you mean,” I told her, enjoying the sensation of her hand upon me instead of my own, it had after all been a while.
“Put it in me,” she said. “But don’t move for a moment after you do, you’ll see why,” she added.
My cock slid into her like a hot knife slicing through butter. Every square inch of my prick was greeted by the hot wet silkiness of her sweet snatch until I was balls deep, then stood there unmoving just as she’d asked.
“How could I not?” I thought to myself, and then realized what it was she was actually referring to. It was subtle at first, and then I felt the tiny soft vibrations of her pussy as it surrounded me, the washer thrumming away beneath and against us, as we stood there coupled together. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah,” I said with a greater understanding now.
“Ok. now you can fuck me…but slowly,” she purred.
It was almost painful. Painfully excruciating to merely slide in to her, ever so slowly, and then withdraw, nearly as slowly, but it was the way she wanted it, and so I did. And here I was, the one with all the supposed experience learning from a woman half my age.
“Hmm, nice,” she cooed once again. “Pinch my nipples, twist them while you do that.”
I did so, relishing in her taut hard little nubbins that felt so deliciously wonderful clenched between my fingers, looking up, her eyes closed, her smile one of complete and total ecstasy as my prick slid in an out of her at a maddeningly slow pace, yet the sensation so wickedly delightful as the vibrator washer tickled and kissed my balls every time I impaled her fully.
“Faster.” she said simply.
I did so, thrusting in and out of her a little faster than I had been until she urged me to go even faster, harder, deeper if I could.
“Harder, faster, harder, faster!” she now wailed.
Now I was fucking her with a rapidity that surprised even myself, perched precariously on a step stool that I wasn’t sure was made to stand up to this kind of activity. And yet, there I stood, slamming into her as fast as I could manage to do, holding onto Chrissy’s tits for dear life, let alone my balance as we neared the precipice of bliss together just as the washer went into the spin cycle.
“Oh yeah, now! Now!” she screamed.
The only now I could think of, was the Now of busting my nuts inside her, which suddenly seemed to occur all at once, just as she cried out, triggering my release just as I felt the hot wet slush of her pussy damn suddenly breaking, a torrent of her own wet slick joy-juice bathing my cock in a copious frothy orgasmic wetness the likes of which I’d never experienced before as my own hard felt jettison of spunk filled her cunt with what felt like a never ending discharge of cream.
“Oh yeah, cum baby! Cum with me!” She cried out once again, feeling my ejaculate pouring into her.
Weak in the knees, I was forced to withdraw, stepping down from my stool before I fell off of it.
“Wow, that was great!” Chrissy stated still squirming around on top of the washing machine, taking a moment to finger and even taste the fluid that was obscenely flowing out of her still spread pussy.
“You can say that again!”
“Only one thing could have made it even better!” She suddenly announced.
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Well, I’ve always had this fantasy about fucking a good looking May Tag repairman.”
“Well, I guess I could see if they’d let me buy one of those hats at least.”
“And I sort of have this other fantasy too.”
“And what that might be?”
“Well, it sort of involves a hard hat.”
“That I can get,” I told her, as I was most often on site with my construction work.
“There’s a few others too,” she said grinning.
“Sounds like I’m going to need to make room in my closet,” I told her.
Chrissy jumped down off the washer at that point and headed up towards the stairs.
“Well? You coming?” She asked, I still like a comfy bed once in a while too.
I was right behind her.