3
336720
Guest
Part I
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] It was time. I had to do some laundry. I couldn't wear any of my pants one more time to work. And I was down to the second to last pair of underwear. Laundry was the least favorite of my chores, probably because I always wait until I have four or five loads to do. At least the laundromat was only a couple doors down. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] I preferred to use the laundromat over the laundry room in the basement of my building. It usually had many available machines, especially later at night. Since it was Sunday, and after 10p.m., I figured I would have no problem getting all the loads into different machines at the same time, and be done by midnight. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] My building has a few usurped shopping carts, so I loaded one I found a couple floors down with my heaps of dirty clothes, sheets, towels, soap and fabric softener. I felt kind of like a bag lady or something carting all that, but luckily, there weren't many people out, and I didn't run into anyone in the cramped and dingy elevator. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] When I pushed my cart into the laundromat, I was relieved to find almost all the machines available, except for a couple washers and four dryers being used by the other two patrons. I quickly got five machines going and poured soap into all of them. I sorted my clothes as I went, and soon enough, I was free to sit down in the lounge area and wait. The t.v. was on to a news program, which was fine with me. I don't usually watch any news, so it really was all new to me. One other guy was watching, a middle-aged- looking black guy with the slightest hint of grey in his stubble and wearing a baseball cap. He was wearing a white t-shirt and cut-off sweat pants, and had his feet on the coffee table, and his arms crossed on his chest. He had nice arms, I thought, even for a middle-aged guy. Couldn't tell much else about him in his reclined position. The other patron was an older Hispanic lady, grown out brown dye-job with about an inch of pewter gray hair showing around her forehead, as she had her hair pulled back in a barrett. She stood in front of her dryers, waiting for them to finish, looking a little protective of both herself and her clothes. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] I watched a couple of stories about a new company setting up a plant nearby, a neighborhood complaining about some guy's front-yard garden, and the weather. The other guy just kept his eyes on the set, not even seeming to notice me. The Latinas dryers stopped and she hurriedly folded the two loads on the formica counter and put them into her laundry baskets. My fellow t.v. watcher uncrossed his ankles and then re-crossed them with the other foot on top. Apparently this move made him uncomfortable though, because he then parted his knees and thighs and with a glance toward the Latina, he adjusted his cock. His movement caught my attention, probably because it wasn't just a casual nudge of his penis to the side. It was actually almost a grab of a massive piece from between his thighs to rest on top of his left leg, which he was shifting to set onto his right ankle. From my vantage point, he had quite a package, and he wasn't wearing the three layers of boxers, ball shorts and sweat pants like so many of the younger black guys do. He caught me looking as he brought his attention back to the t.v. Our eyes met for the briefest second before I quickly looked back to the screen, not wanting to invite any potential animosity.[/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] A few minutes later, I heard the bells chime at the front door and saw the Latina maneuvering her two baskets tied to the top of her wire, rolling shopping cart onto the sidewalk and out of sight. I got up and walked to my washers to check how much time was left. They were all entering the rinse cycle - about ten more minutes. The other guy must have gotten there shortly before I did, because his three washers buzzed as I was sitting back down in the lounge. He cleared his throat as he unfolded his arms, uncross and spread his legs and slowly put his feet onto the floor. I couldn't help but watch his penis swing and sway in his loose sweat pants as he passed right in front of me to go unload his washers. It was impressive, and I wondered what it would be like to freeball in loose pants with such a big dick. He must live nearby, I thought. Not many guys would venture too far so casually. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] I hardly ever went freeballing myself. Even though I wasn't hung like this guy apparently was, I felt odd when my penis would shift so easily, back and forth, almost always ending up in a position where I felt I had to adjust it when I sat down. I was also a bit nervous to get a spontaneous erection. My cock tends to stick straight out when its hard, and that would definitely require an adjustment if I were to go without underwear. I guess I hadnt been too adventurous in my twenty-seven years. Maybe when I reached his age, I wouldnt be as self-conscious. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] From where I was sitting, directly facing the t.v., I didnt have a great view of the washers, which were to my right and a bit behind me. It would be too obvious to turn and watch him. So I waited until he moved each of his loads to the dryers, on the next aisle, directly to my right. That way, I could get a good profile shot. He moved his first load to a dryer about halfway down the aisle on the lower row and inserted his quarters. Then he went back for the second load. I couldnt tell, but I got the feeling he was looking in my direction. My peripheral vision wasnt the greatest with my glasses on. He couldve just been looking over at the t.v., as the sports segment was now on. He returned to the dryer aisle, and shoved his second load into an open dryer directly above the first one he used. I watched him, and saw his penis bounce in his pants as he pushed the bundle of wet clothes through the narrow front-loader door. I could feel myself get a little stiff. His dick was so heavy it seemed like a regularly hung guy was doing the same thing only naked. He caught me looking again as he shut the dryer door and put in his quarters. I turned back to the t.v. as casually as I could, but I could feel him looking toward the lounge as he returned to the washer aisle for the last load.[/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] When he returned to the dryer aisle with his last load, he didnt go to a dryer near the other two he had started. He stopped at the first set of dryers next to the lounge and nudged open the top dryer door. Once he had gotten all his clothes into it, he reached into the right pocket of his sweat pants, angling his front toward me, and after some digging, which sent his waist band down to his pubes, and looking over at me to see if I was watching, he dug out two quarters. I did notice what he was doing since he was only about five feet away from me, but I tried to hold onto a sense of indifference. Since the dryers were a dollar, he needed two more quarters, which sent his left hand into his other pocket. This time, he found the quarters he needed quickly, and then, turning to face me, from the inside of the sweatpants he tugged them down with his left hand and with his right, just pulled his penis and balls out, tucking the waistband underneath them. I couldnt help but look, knowing now he was doing this for me. My penis instantly hardened inside my jeans, and since I was tucked into my tighty whities, bulged a little bit in its restraint. I saw the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he turned profile to me, facing the dryer. His flaccid cock hung over his pants and balls and seemed a good seven inches, super heavy and thick. He inserted the last two quarters and started the dryer. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] It was time. I had to do some laundry. I couldn't wear any of my pants one more time to work. And I was down to the second to last pair of underwear. Laundry was the least favorite of my chores, probably because I always wait until I have four or five loads to do. At least the laundromat was only a couple doors down. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] I preferred to use the laundromat over the laundry room in the basement of my building. It usually had many available machines, especially later at night. Since it was Sunday, and after 10p.m., I figured I would have no problem getting all the loads into different machines at the same time, and be done by midnight. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] My building has a few usurped shopping carts, so I loaded one I found a couple floors down with my heaps of dirty clothes, sheets, towels, soap and fabric softener. I felt kind of like a bag lady or something carting all that, but luckily, there weren't many people out, and I didn't run into anyone in the cramped and dingy elevator. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] When I pushed my cart into the laundromat, I was relieved to find almost all the machines available, except for a couple washers and four dryers being used by the other two patrons. I quickly got five machines going and poured soap into all of them. I sorted my clothes as I went, and soon enough, I was free to sit down in the lounge area and wait. The t.v. was on to a news program, which was fine with me. I don't usually watch any news, so it really was all new to me. One other guy was watching, a middle-aged- looking black guy with the slightest hint of grey in his stubble and wearing a baseball cap. He was wearing a white t-shirt and cut-off sweat pants, and had his feet on the coffee table, and his arms crossed on his chest. He had nice arms, I thought, even for a middle-aged guy. Couldn't tell much else about him in his reclined position. The other patron was an older Hispanic lady, grown out brown dye-job with about an inch of pewter gray hair showing around her forehead, as she had her hair pulled back in a barrett. She stood in front of her dryers, waiting for them to finish, looking a little protective of both herself and her clothes. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] I watched a couple of stories about a new company setting up a plant nearby, a neighborhood complaining about some guy's front-yard garden, and the weather. The other guy just kept his eyes on the set, not even seeming to notice me. The Latinas dryers stopped and she hurriedly folded the two loads on the formica counter and put them into her laundry baskets. My fellow t.v. watcher uncrossed his ankles and then re-crossed them with the other foot on top. Apparently this move made him uncomfortable though, because he then parted his knees and thighs and with a glance toward the Latina, he adjusted his cock. His movement caught my attention, probably because it wasn't just a casual nudge of his penis to the side. It was actually almost a grab of a massive piece from between his thighs to rest on top of his left leg, which he was shifting to set onto his right ankle. From my vantage point, he had quite a package, and he wasn't wearing the three layers of boxers, ball shorts and sweat pants like so many of the younger black guys do. He caught me looking as he brought his attention back to the t.v. Our eyes met for the briefest second before I quickly looked back to the screen, not wanting to invite any potential animosity.[/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] A few minutes later, I heard the bells chime at the front door and saw the Latina maneuvering her two baskets tied to the top of her wire, rolling shopping cart onto the sidewalk and out of sight. I got up and walked to my washers to check how much time was left. They were all entering the rinse cycle - about ten more minutes. The other guy must have gotten there shortly before I did, because his three washers buzzed as I was sitting back down in the lounge. He cleared his throat as he unfolded his arms, uncross and spread his legs and slowly put his feet onto the floor. I couldn't help but watch his penis swing and sway in his loose sweat pants as he passed right in front of me to go unload his washers. It was impressive, and I wondered what it would be like to freeball in loose pants with such a big dick. He must live nearby, I thought. Not many guys would venture too far so casually. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] I hardly ever went freeballing myself. Even though I wasn't hung like this guy apparently was, I felt odd when my penis would shift so easily, back and forth, almost always ending up in a position where I felt I had to adjust it when I sat down. I was also a bit nervous to get a spontaneous erection. My cock tends to stick straight out when its hard, and that would definitely require an adjustment if I were to go without underwear. I guess I hadnt been too adventurous in my twenty-seven years. Maybe when I reached his age, I wouldnt be as self-conscious. [/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] From where I was sitting, directly facing the t.v., I didnt have a great view of the washers, which were to my right and a bit behind me. It would be too obvious to turn and watch him. So I waited until he moved each of his loads to the dryers, on the next aisle, directly to my right. That way, I could get a good profile shot. He moved his first load to a dryer about halfway down the aisle on the lower row and inserted his quarters. Then he went back for the second load. I couldnt tell, but I got the feeling he was looking in my direction. My peripheral vision wasnt the greatest with my glasses on. He couldve just been looking over at the t.v., as the sports segment was now on. He returned to the dryer aisle, and shoved his second load into an open dryer directly above the first one he used. I watched him, and saw his penis bounce in his pants as he pushed the bundle of wet clothes through the narrow front-loader door. I could feel myself get a little stiff. His dick was so heavy it seemed like a regularly hung guy was doing the same thing only naked. He caught me looking again as he shut the dryer door and put in his quarters. I turned back to the t.v. as casually as I could, but I could feel him looking toward the lounge as he returned to the washer aisle for the last load.[/FONT]
[FONT='Verdana','sans-serif'] When he returned to the dryer aisle with his last load, he didnt go to a dryer near the other two he had started. He stopped at the first set of dryers next to the lounge and nudged open the top dryer door. Once he had gotten all his clothes into it, he reached into the right pocket of his sweat pants, angling his front toward me, and after some digging, which sent his waist band down to his pubes, and looking over at me to see if I was watching, he dug out two quarters. I did notice what he was doing since he was only about five feet away from me, but I tried to hold onto a sense of indifference. Since the dryers were a dollar, he needed two more quarters, which sent his left hand into his other pocket. This time, he found the quarters he needed quickly, and then, turning to face me, from the inside of the sweatpants he tugged them down with his left hand and with his right, just pulled his penis and balls out, tucking the waistband underneath them. I couldnt help but look, knowing now he was doing this for me. My penis instantly hardened inside my jeans, and since I was tucked into my tighty whities, bulged a little bit in its restraint. I saw the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he turned profile to me, facing the dryer. His flaccid cock hung over his pants and balls and seemed a good seven inches, super heavy and thick. He inserted the last two quarters and started the dryer. [/FONT]