Laundry Room Anal

Finally, it was Thursday again. Finally, it was laundry day again.

The last few days had been very stressful. Darius constantly harassed me in the office and every day I had to play bitch and sex doll, be his jerk off tool for him while he watched porn or even while he was on the phone. We almost got caught twice.

David and Robert had made a few more clumsy advances, too. David had groped me several times and almost revealed that I wasn't wearing any underwear under my skirt or dress - after all, Darius had forbidden that.

Sabine had been rotating around the office for the last few days and was thinking about how she could punish this improper behavior the panties in the ladies room indicated. After all, she could hardly ask every single employee if my panties belonged to her.

And she couldn't ask her colleagues to show off their underwear either.

So it all came to nothing. But the mood in the office was definitely tense.

It was all the nicer to come home and present myself to the McIntyres from the safety of my apartment. And to prepare for today. I had deliberately eaten little and only easily digestible foods over the last few days. I had worn my plug and regularly stretched my butthole with my fingers, all so that Mr. McIntyre would enjoy fucking my ass.

At the same time, of course, I didn't know if it would actually happen. It wouldn't have surprised me if he had just roughly fucked my mouth and throat this Thursday, like he did the last few Thursdays. But in the end, of course, that was his decision alone.

I was more nervous than I had been in a long time as I walked into the laundry room with the laundry basket. I used to always go back to my apartment every now and then - it was pretty boring in the laundry room - but this time I had to prepare everything. I took the stool and placed it next to the table, then knelt next to it, assuming my usual throat-fucking position.

I tried to imagine how I would have to stand or lie down to get my ass to the ideal height of Mr. McIntyre's cock. Some help would have been good and I actually thought about asking Ms. Petra, but then decided against it. She would definitely demand compensation for her help and I didn't want to waste the time to do so.

After some back and forth, I finally got to the conclusion: If I put the stool in front of the table and then knelt on it, putting my upper body on the table, then my holes should be at exactly the right height for Mr. McIntyre. And I would be able to hold on tight in case he thrust very hard, which I couldn't rule out.

My pussy was constantly wet with anticipation and I stroked it again and again, but never to the point of climax. If I came today, it would be because Mr. McIntyre would inject his juice into my bottom. That was the goal! I really hoped that my old neighbor would be happy with me.

I threw the last load in the dryer and got ready. We'd barely said a word in the last few weeks, just a brief greeting before he usually took my shoulder and I knelt while he unzipped his pants, in lieu of shaking hands, so to speak. With a sigh of relief, he pushed his sometimes flaccid, sometimes semi-hard cock between my lips and I blew him hard until he finally started to fuck me. Once he had squirted his seed down my throat or onto my face, I licked his cock clean, thanked him, he patted me on the head and I was released.

But today there was something different on the agenda!

I turned on the washer and dryer and knelt on the stool, arms and torso propped on the table, and waited for my neighbor.

It wasn't long before I heard his footsteps approaching, heard the door open.

He coughed once, cleared his throat and said: "Hah, what a nice surprise. You really need it, you little pig, huh?"

I didn't say anything, but instead put my upper body on the table, which made my butt stick up even higher. From his position he certainly wouldn't be able to see anything but my ass.

"Well, let's take a look." A moment later I felt his hands on my butt cheeks and he slowly pushed up my skirt. "What, no underwear at all? But hello, what do we have here?"

He took the jewel of my butt plug between his fingers and twisted it slowly. I moaned loudly.

He tugged lightly on the plug, twisting it further and sending waves of pleasure through my belly. The hammering of the laundry machine's spin cycle drowned out the sound of him undoing his belt and pants, but he must have unzipped them because suddenly I felt him push his hard old man's cock into my pussy with one thrust until his sack was pressed against my pussy lips.

I let out a long moan, feeling him pull his shaft halfway out of me and then thrust hard again.

I was a little disappointed, I was expecting him to go after my ass, wondering if I had been too eager, putting him off... but then I felt him very slowly pull my plug out of my asshole and I almost sobbed with lust when he finally pulled it out completely.

For a brief moment my ass felt unusually empty and deserted, but then Mr. McIntyre pulled his cock out of my greedy pussy, placed his glans on my still slightly open asshole and, without much hesitation, pushed his cock into me, inch by inch.

I moaned and screamed out of a mixture of pain, lust and surprise and bit into the towel that I had specially placed on the table.

When Mr. McIntyre finally pushed himself all the way into me, he paused for a moment.

"Very tight, my little butt-bitch, exactly as I expected," Mr. McIntyre whispered to me and I was happy about the compliment.

Then he began to move the way I was used to from him, long, slow, deep thrusts, always nice and even and in rhythm, slowly getting faster.

I resisted the temptation to put my hands on my pussy, but if I had, I would have come immediately. But of course I wasn't allowed to think about myself - maybe Mr. McIntyre didn't want me to have an orgasm? In general, he didn't seem to care one way or the other.

The washing machine started to spin and Mr. McIntyre also moved faster now. With every thrust his big sack slapped against my soaking wet pussy, then my clit rubbed against the towel on the table for a second and I lifted my head, arched my back and moaned loudly through my climax.

Just a few moments later, Mr. McIntyre also groaned and pushed his cock deep into me all the way into me again and flooded my intestines with his fuck juice.

He slumped over me and panted, seeming completely out of breath.

We lay on top of each other for a while, then he stood up again, pulled his half-hard cock out of me and then pushed my butt plug back into my throbbing asshole.

"Making sure nothing leaks," he said and then stroked my pussy testingly.

"Although... your fuck-hole is leaking a lot."

I was still completely exhausted and only managed to nod.

"Totally done, hmm? Maybe next time you'll ask if you can come, my little ass-cunt, if that's too much for you, hmm?"

I nodded again, but managed to say "Thank you, Mr. McIntyre."

I was still lying on the table with my bottom up and my upper body down.

Mr. McIntyre patted my butt like he normally patted my head.

"It's okay, fuckpet - but now get going, you're back in my laundry room slot. I'll bring the last load back later."

I obediently put my laundry in the basket, slipped on my shoes and left the laundry room without another word.

I wasn't entirely sure if I actually felt it - but as I rode up in the elevator I thought I could feel Mr. McIntyre cum in my ass, held in place by my butt plug.

One thing was certain: my pussy had leaked onto the floor of the elevator and I could clearly see the wet spot before the elevator door closed again.

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