Dirty Laundry Episode 1

The irony of both Bliss and Tyson being at the same place at the same time was comical to her. The fact that her washing machine at home was broken which led her to this laundromat in the first place was even funnier. 4 years, that’s how long it’s been since she laid her eyes on his sun kissed russet colored skin. That was also the same amount of years it’s been since she had experienced her last orgasm.

    She purposely chose to wash her belongings at 3am to avoid the crowds of people in the daytime. If it wasn’t for the fact that she didn’t have any clean panties to wear, she probably would have turned her ass around. She took a deep breath before maneuvering the metal laundry basket to an unoccupied washer and then loaded in her clothes.

   When did he get into town? Why was she so bothered by his presence? What the hell was he doing at her laundromat out of all places in Richmond? One by one the questions poured into her head.

   She stole glances at Tyson at the other end of the building, who was sitting in a chair too preoccupied with his phone to notice he had company. She figured a rich nigga like him wouldn’t be at a laundromat washing his own clothes, let alone doing so at 3am. She didn’t want to seem like a creep by staring but she was infatuated with his new look.

   He had aged well just like fine wine. His wavey low cut hair was lined perfectly as always but he no longer had the tapered look on the sides. His body was more toned and defined, while his beard grew lusciously providing the perfect seat for her to sit on. She noted that he must have ridden his bike based on the signature Knights Biker Jacket and black boots.

   She found herself battling between the emotions of obsession and anger. To say she still held onto the grudge from four years ago was childish. She swore to herself that she has gotten over him. It was a lot easier to lie to yourself when you didn’t have to see the person every day but seeing him in person brought back the rush. The memories. Most importantly the memories of the mind-blowing love they used to make. The fucking backshots she used to take. Doggy style was always his favorite position.

      She pried her eyes away from him to focus on the washing machine that was filling up with suds of water. She did everything she could to clear her mind of Tyson Gray over the years. She picked up thousands of hobbies to occupy herself but nothing in the world could stop him from invading her thoughts every damn night. He was and always will be the best man she ever had.

   But she couldn’t allow herself to indulge with him after the last time. She was like an addict, addicted to the one man that could make her cum more times that she can count, yet makes her heart hurt so bad.

    Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she felt his presence before he could even say anything. His familiar scent of cologne still tickled her nose like it always did. Creed still smelled like heaven on him. Her back stayed turned to him, she prayed maybe he would ignore her like she did him.

   “So, are you really still that angry at me that you won’t even acknowledge my existence?” He whispered softly into her ear causing her to jump slightly. As always, he loved to do the unexpected.

   She didn’t respond, she didn’t move either.  Words gathered at the tip of her tongue but her other set of lips was talking instead. Within two seconds of hearing his voice, she had already creamed herself. This is exactly what she had wanted to avoid. She had no control over her own damn body when he was around him. 

   Frozen in place, this allowed him to press her against the washing machine from behind. His rock solid print sat perfectly in between the crack of her plushy cheeks. He wrapped his arms around her to prevent her from breaking free. She didn’t even want to break free, she needed him. She needed this. For a moment they just remained in place as if they wanted to get reacquainted with each other. 

   He moved strains of her long hair behind her ear before saying, “You know, I always loved when you wore your hair like this. It reminds me of our first time at the picnic.” 

   He complimented the fact that she was free from her usual long weave allowing her gorgeous coils to be naturally wild. Yet on the other hand that picnic was a damn trigger for her. He was the forbidden fruit at the picnic she just had to taste. One taste turned into hundreds until he made her go cold turkey. She felt like a guilty slut all over again. 

   She knew where this was going, so she turned around to attempt to push him up off her but he didn’t even budge from the weak push. Instead it actually turned him on more. Just like she was missing him, he damn sure missed seeing her angelic face. 

   She  tried to jab her hands between them to create some type of space before saying, “Stop, we can’t! You decided that last time was the last time. I’m not doing this with you!”

  He smirked a little at her, amused by the fact she tried to set her little boundaries and shit. She actually thought for a second she ran whatever this was.

   “I changed my mind, he misses you,” not taking no for an answer, he leaned in closer to her, kissing her neck in a slow but aggressive fashion. 

   Her neck was her weak spot just for him, she felt like putty in his strong hands, ready to melt all over him. Her heartbeat picked up its pace each time he touched in between her thighs. She couldn’t take it anymore, years of lack of satisfaction caused her to give into his request. Locking lips with him, she maneuvered her hands to the button of his jeans. 

    In return, he undid the strings of her sweatpants before pulling them down to her ankles. His favorite tattoo of the small purple butterfly on her waistline was being slightly covered by her red thong. He dropped those as well before she eventually stepped out of them.

   He dipped his index finger into her folds and nodded in approval the moment he pulled his finger back out. Bliss was always ready and tight just for him. He took her hand to guide her close by on to a folding table. He helped her up before he manuved himself between her legs to her freshly waxed slit. He gently sucked on her clit while making his tongue trace imaginary circles around her hole.

   “Oh, just like that. Yasss!” She cooed with her head thrown back. His tongue game was still just as lethal as she could remember. She allowed herself to grind slowly on his taste buds, she deserved every inch of his tongue. 

   The boldness of her being spread eagle, getting her pussy licked to perfection in a laundromat had her on another level. This moment was perfect, she wished she could stay this high forever. He was her favorite fucking drug. 

   Just before she reached her peak, an annoying buzzing began emitting from her discarded  phone on the floor. Cleary it was important because whoever it was just kept calling back to back.

Tyson heard it too and became highly annoyed, causing him to stop mid-lick, "You going get that?” 

   The phone had ruined the whole vibe, he was turned off just that quick. Standing to his feet the used his white undershirt to wipe her nectar from all over his face. 

   She hopped her wet ass off of the table then waddled over to her pile of sweats before picking up her phone. She twisted her face in disgust when she saw the name “Fiance” with notification of 6 missed calls and 2 messages. She unlocked her phone with face id to read his message that said ‘Just checking on you, I talked to the guy to get the washing machine fixed so no more trips to the laundromat. I love you, be safe.’

   It was crazy how life worked. The reality began to sink in that this was wrong no matter how hard she tried to justify it. She shook her head repeatedly because out of all the times she went to wash clothes, he never texted her to check up. He was always knocked out, never bothering to help or anything. 

  Tyson knew the situation but still asked, trying to be funny, “Who calling us?”

   “Your Brother.” 

TO BE CONTINUED