The Hot Stranger: Passion Between Spin Cycles

Don’t let this become a missed connection

At my neighborhood laundromat, I noticed a tall Latino man folding his jeans. This guy stole glances at me from the minute I walked in. I put down my heavy basket by the washer and felt pulled to start a conversation. After all, I am a newly divorced gal who needs to jump back on the saddle and ride something tall and muscly. I walked right up to this hot stranger and asked, “Are you here alone?” 

The handsome mystery man replied, “I am.” “All alone and sexy. I want to know what’s up with you? See anything you like?” I asked him.  “Damn, you’re bold,” he said with a chuckle. “Of course I do, you little sexy mami.” 

“What is your name, handsome?” I asked. “Me llamo Cristóbal. What’s your name, chica?” “I’m Monica. It’s nice to meet you, Cristóbal. Ok, Cristóbal. Can you help me sort some of these?” I said, dangling my sexy purple nightie in front of him.  Suddenly, he snatched it and read the tag. “Monica, these are all to be washed on the delicate cycle, you know? I love delicate, soft things on my lady.” As I reached for it, my hot stranger held it over my head. “I like it when my wife rubs her panties over my hard penis,” he says jokingly. 

Of course, this hot stranger is married

Intrigued, I asked, “Satin ones?” “Yes,” he answers. Finding out that Cristóbal is married made me pause for a minute, but he kept lingering over my laundry.  “What else is in here, Monica?” he playfully asked. Cristóbal reached in and grabbed a new one, scanning the crotch.  “Wow! You’re so curious,” I said, smiling. “What color?” he asked, pulling down on my denim mini skirt. I lifted the hem and flashed a quick look at my tiny turquoise g-string. Cristóbal bit his lip and went in for a kiss. I rejected it a little, asking the hot stranger, “Aren’t you married?”

He clocked my diamond ring and fired back, “So are you.” Technically, that is true, but I told him, “I’m newly divorced.” “It’s all the same,” Cristóbal said, planting one on my lips. “I haven’t been happy for years. And ‘Mrs. I’m not married, I don’t care if you are. Let’s forget it tonight.” 

Let’s forget about our situationships and have fun tonight

Cristóbal lifted me and placed my ample booty on his running washer. The vibrations under me titillated every nerve ending. His big hands ran up my back, unhooking my bra. “You have to wash this too,” he said, yanking it off. Then I unbuttoned his jeans. “What about these?” I asked. My hot stranger dropped his pants with his arousal impossible to miss. 

Cristóbal pulled aside my little g-string, and I helped him pull it down my legs and over my toes. He reached into my collection of sexy lingerie and grabbed a light pink sheer cheeky panty. Cristóbal slowly fastened it around his testicles and tightened his grip until the pressure set in. “How does that feel?” I whispered, pointing at it. “It’s amazing, amor!”  Cristóbal grabbed my thick thighs and entered me with great force. Each thrust sent shockwaves. Playfully, I made a cute little O face at him, and he answered back with one for me. I laughed at how comical he could be while he continued to stroke me down. I grabbed my sexy red Valentine thong and held it to my hot stranger’s face. 

“Do you like this one?” I asked. I let Cristóbal breathe me in, slow and deliberate. “Mmmm, I love the musty, sweaty smell.” Cristóbal picked me up and carried me to the long, laundry-folding table.  Then I positioned him exactly where I wanted him, and he took his time making me melt. He lingered there, unhurried and intent, while I rocked gently against him. “Cristóbal,” I pleaded for more. Then he grabbed my legs together and pulled them over his shoulder. I loved looking into his brown eyes while he continued to work his hips. 

This hot stranger cast his spell over me

Was he a dancer? I wondered how he kept a perfect tempo the entire time. Then, when I got closer to my climax, my hot stranger didn’t just stop. My ex had always shifted the momentum and stopped me from my big moment. Not Cristóbal. Instead, he kept at the same pace and called me “mami” over and over. 

His thick Latin accent left me spellbound. Primal and feral sex like this made me levitate. As I felt my body fall into a trance, I asked myself if Cristóbal was a sex warlock? As I came, he wanted to do something his wife never let him do. He whispered in my ear how he was ready to finish in my sweet boca. “Seriously?” I asked. “Yes, baby.” As I looked over, I noticed a man unlocking the front door. “Mamma Mia!” I freaked out. 

“Get out of here, you nasty creeps! Take your stuff and go!” How embarrassing to be caught by the business owner. I seriously wanted to die right there, under this hot stranger.  Quickly, my sexy warlock grabbed my soaked laundry and put it in the back of his sedan. 

“I’ll take you home tonight, and we won’t be interrupted again,” he laughed.  “You don’t mind my clothes in your car?” I asked. “They are getting your seats drenched.” Cristóbal just laughed and said my clothes weren’t the only thing soaked, rubbing between my thighs. Monica loves to hook up in public places. Please read here about my night tent hookup when I was a naughty college girl.

Call Monica 1-866-493-3910