#446) I Feel Seen

I ran across the drawing shown above on a site entitled fuego extinto. (It is a very dirty site, I recommend it.) It immediately transported me back to my college years…

I lived in a dorm where the floors alternated by gender, boys on one, girls on the next, boys on the next one, girls then, you get the idea…

Football was very big at this college. I wasn’t big on football. So I would study on Saturdays when the dorm was deserted, and do my laundry down the hall when there wouldn’t be a line…

One time, when I was without the services of a boyfriend for too long, the rumbling warmth of the clothes drier was too much to resist. I pulled my pants down, sat my parted fanny on its porcelain-painted smoothness, where my anus puckered-up and kissed its surface, and I masturbated to a very satisfying orgasm. That became my reward for diligently studying for an interval; every forty-five minutes, I’d take a study break, run down the hall, put a new load in the machines, strip-off, and get off…

Seeing this drawing brought all those pleasant memories flooding back. My sex flooded, too. My apartment’s clothes drier beckoned. It was too alluring a summons to resist…

“Oh, fuck! That’s… so… fucking… good!” (And this time, it didn’t cost me a roll of quarters! I guess that I’m conditioned to salivate, like Pavlov’s dog, to certain stimuli…)

5 responses to “#446) I Feel Seen”

  1. I had heard stories about women and WASHING machines, but never the dryer. In either, I thought they were just stories.

    I guess not. I blame the women in my life for not telling me.

    (Speaking of which – how did young Jean Marie hear about laundry being so much fun…?)

    Liked by 1 person

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