On Rounds -- The Laundry Room - Sex Stories

On Rounds -- The Laundry Room

And this is my life. Only a couple more weeks and I’ll neverhave to do rounds again! Alas, it is my job for now, so I’m going to do it. It’s same old same old. No banging co-eds. No extra tasks from my boss. This should go smoothly, if not boring. There is only one hitch for me to consider this time around: the laundry room door. Every week, we report that damn door to maintenance and it has yet to be fixed. The lock is faulty and if you are inside and the door is closed, you are not getting out unless someone comes along. I cannot tell you how many residents have gotten stuck in there this year. By this time, everyone in the building knows better than to close the door behind themselves. On my second rounds of the night, I am careful not to let the door slam behind me. The last thing I need is to get trapped in this hot-ass room. I actually like searching the laundry room. After I check for washers and dryers that are out of order, I always make sure there aren’t any items inside the machines. I usually pull out stray thongs, socks, condom wrappers, and even spare change. I get lucky tonight and pull out $2.50 and an unopened condom. Don’t judge me, I totally kept it. Protection. Always protection. My pen scratches across the clipboard and I wipe my forehead. Because of all these freaking machines, sweating is as easy as breathing in this room. I can already feel moisture between my plump breasts. “Hey.” Someone startles me and I glance over my shoulder. Tall. Blond hair, ...

... blue eyes, broad shoulders…think surfer boy if you need a stereotype to picture him. He smiles at me with a pearly-white grin and I am suddenly very aware of my tank top and sloppy sweats reserved for rounds only. Of all the nights for me to look like a homeless person. “What’s up?” He asks me, and after blinking a couple more times than is necessary, I find my voice. “Um. Hi.” I wipe my brow again. “Nothing much and you?” I’ve never seen this guy before. Usually, I can recognize most of our residents, but I think I would remember him. Looking up from my writing again, I notice his muscular calves and the contours of his back beneath his v-neck shirt. Yep. I would definitely remember that. “Well, I think it could be a little hotter in here.” He replies, smirking. “Just a tad.” I giggle slightly and head to the door. His presence was raising the temperature and fast. I have to get out of here before something happens because I am not allowed to fraternize with any of my residents. Stupid rule… Shaking my head subtly, I head for the door. Wait. I know I left that door open. I take three quick steps to the handle and yank gently. No. No. NO! I try again and again even though I know it is pointless. “Shit!” How did this happen? And then, it hit me. I turn to look at surfer boy. He looks confused. “What’s going on?” He remarks. “I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath holding back my rage. I am about to blow. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. My name is Gretchen, but people call me ...