Laundry Day

Molly has been attracted to Maverick since the day he moved into the apartment across from hers, but he doesn't appear to be interested in her. Frustrated and horny, she takes solace with one of her toys until the fateful day that it stops working. Remembering the one washing machine that vibrates more than others in the community laundry room, she takes the risk of pleasuring herself on it in public. It all works out well--until Maverick walks in on her. Suddenly, she's trading fantasy for reality, in the hottest unprotected encounter of her life...

Excerpt:
The steady buzz faltered and the vibrations on my clit grew weaker and weaker before stopping all together.

“Damn.”

I switched out the batteries in my vibrator. Flipped the switch.

Nothing. The thing was well and truly dead.

Who would have thought that a vibrator could break down like this?

Okay. I suppose I had been using it a bit more than usual lately. Ever since Maverick had moved into the off-campus apartment across from mine. He was also enrolled at the same college that I was, but since our majors were vastly different, we rarely crossed paths on campus.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. I’d gotten wet the moment I’d first seen him. Not just a little bit, but a panty-drenching flood. That had never happened to me before. And from what I’d seen, he wasn’t stuck up or arrogant the way so many good-looking guys were.

There was just one problem.

Though he was perfectly polite and friendly, he never showed the slightest interest in me. Or any other woman, either, now that I thought about it.

Maybe he had a girl back home that he was actually faithful to?

Lucky girl.

I knew I shouldn’t be trying to get off again. Final exams were coming up and I really should have been studying. I’d already had more than one orgasm tonight, brought on my fingers and thoughts of Maverick, but that hadn’t been enough to truly satisfy me.

I had stopped taking the pill more than a year ago, shortly after my last long-term relationship had imploded. I hadn’t needed the expense or wanted to deal with the side effects when there was no need. Since then, my cycle had been as regular as clockwork and right now, I knew that my hormones were running especially high for a reason.

I was very likely to be ovulating. Fertile. Ready to be knocked up.

And yet I couldn’t even get laid.

No. That wasn’t true. I knew of a couple of guys who might be interested, but I hadn’t been into them in that way. Hadn’t been into anyone since I’d first seen Maverick. It was a crush that was bordering on an obsession.

If I had a handheld shower head, I might have used that to get off.

But I didn’t.

Then I remembered one possible solution.

In the apartment building’s laundry room, one of the washing machines had a tendency to rock more than others. More than once, I’d seen other girls sitting on it while it ran, riding out the motions. Their lips and their legs pressed tightly together but the looks on their faces making it clear just what they were really experiencing.

Orgasms in a public place.

I didn’t know if I was brave enough to actually do that. But it was Friday night.
Most everyone at the complex had better things to do than laundry. And I desperately needed a release.