The Laundromat: a random extract

When we got out of the lift in the car park vestibule we went out a side door, down a tidy nondescript laneway and out onto the main street. I realised with a near start of panic that while I had my phone again that I had not brought my purse with me on my rendezvous adventure. Well, it wasn’t going to be my shout. I wanted to hold Paul’s hand and was grateful when he sought mine out and strode in step with me. We walked past the street front of the Laundromat and it looked all shiny and clean, not like I remembered it from yesterday at all. It appeared everything about my rendezvous had been carefully staged, with disguises and props, to release the wantonness in me that I had been keeping wrapped up tight. Well, it had certainly worked, and I only felt appreciation and gratefulness for what had been given to me.

Walking down the street reminded me of how I had felt walking down the street yesterday; so turned on that I was a magnet for bystanders’ raw carnal desire. I gripped Paul’s hand harder, stopped him, and gave him the most passionate kiss of my life while still wearing clothes. He kissed me back with tenderness and the same level of desire as I was feeling in my hard nipples and moist sex. Tessa put her arms around us both and hugged. Francis, who didn’t say much, also put his arms around us and we were in an instantaneous loving group hug.

I was trembling as I kept kissing Paul. I so wanted to understand what was happening to me, and what he thought about me now. Before today we had shared a deep eroticism only through words. I felt this new unrestrained promiscuous physical intimacy changed everything. Until a few days ago, I hadn’t actually imagined that we would ever even meet. Now I had felt him satisfyingly inside me, but only briefly. And not in the extended and exclusive fashion that I had previously fantasised about with him, even with all of the many imagined variations that I had entertained.

The last day or so had been nothing but frenzied, and I liked it. I wanted more. I wanted Paul, but now I realised that I did not want to be with him to the exclusion of others. With all my longing, I wanted Paul within me again and again. And Tessa. And Francis, and anyone else I fancied. There was no going back to the old me. Once again I was oozing with desire, but I had to satisfy another bodily hunger first. I broke our embrace and started walking down the road, a little like I had the day before with sexual wanting almost overpowering me, but in the reverse direction, and with a little less brazen flesh signalling my physical and emotional state. The others matched my stride, with Tessa walking directly beside me now. She always wanted to be in the lead, I had worked out that much. I started to slow when we reached the café where we had first met. I laughed aloud at the thought of the donut and what had become of it, and me, since I had been so thoroughly despoiled by Tessa, Paul and some other of the Laundromat’s patrons. And I loved it! Tessa couldn’t help herself. “Feel like another donut Petra?” I responded by quickly slipping my hand up inside her top and pinching her right nipple hard as we squeezed together through the doorway. She let out a very satisfying yelp.

ImageThe place was mostly empty, with only a few people sitting towards the rear. I sat down right at the front window so that I could see every good looking man walking past. “It’s your shout I am afraid,” I said to no one in particular, just putting it out there. “Don’t worry, you can pay as back later,” said Paul as he began to stroke my thigh. I laughed, even though it was now him with the trashy joke. Somehow that didn’t matter because my new intimate friends were not pretending to be anything they weren’t, or acting as if they were somehow superior to me. They were genuine people, and this pursuit of happiness, and something much deeper and spiritually meaningful, was a serious undertaking. As paradoxical as that sounded! Paul gestured around at the café. “The Laundromat owns this place. We sublet the premises, but we retain rights over certain aspects of the business, such as providing the occasional casual staff member.” Tessa winked at me. “They will bring us a selection of different Lebanese dips and bread, starting in a minute or two, unless we tell them otherwise. Would that suit you Petra?” I nodded enthusiastically and almost clapped my hands. That sounded perfect.

Author: Ronnie Strong

Ronnie came to writing fine erotica via his studies and career in professional writing. He grew up in East Doncaster, during the sixties and seventies. Ronnie then lived in student share houses in Fitzroy during the 1980s. He moved further north in Melbourne's suburbs over the years. He also had an interlude in a country town and Melbourne’s inner western suburbs. He is now very settled in a little pocket of Reservoir near La Trobe University. That is where he completed his PhD. Ronnie is a working parent with young children. His day job as a policy officer with a government department is a bit of a distraction, but does pay the bills. Ronnie loves music and has been a David Bowie fan all his life. He follows the Sydney Swans AFL football club. He also like reading and great movies and television series.

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