Fucking laundry. How I hate that word. Since we fired the laundry lady, I seem to get stuck with all of the filthy towels from the showers. I hate that back room. It’s dark and creepy. I was in there last night all alone, struggling to get a load of hot towels from the dryer, knowing that customers were waiting for them. “Here, let me help you.” a sexy voice whispered and strong hands reached around me to pull the load from the dryer. I found myself face down on the folding table, head buried in a load of clean, hot laundry as someone pulled up my skirt from behind. “Shhhh, don’t say a word.” he drawled. I felt my panties being pulled down and the head of a cock begin to rub between my ass cheeks. It felt so good that I sighed. His breath quickened a bit as he pushed his fat cock right into my shithole. I arched my back to take more. Ass fucking is my weakness and I didn’t want him to stop. With my head still buried in the towels, I took every inch, feeling him tense up inside my guts. With a soft moan, he blew his load. I saw him grab a clean towel, wipe his dirty cock and leave. I never knew who he was. I can only imagine the face of the person who gets the towel that smells like my asshole.
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