Robotic Rita 1844-332-2639 Ext 413
The washing machine in my apartment building stopped working, and our cheap-as-dirt slumlord hasn’t even attempted to replace or fix it, so my roommate, Kelly, and I decided we couldn’t put it off any longer. We’d have to go to the laundry mat. I’d never been to one, and the idea of my underthings tumbling around in the view of strangers made me feel a little icky. However, it didn’t seem like I had another choice at the moment.
We piled up our laundry baskets, a bottle of detergent, and a plastic baggy of dryer sheets into the car, then raided my piggybank for quarters. Kelly drove us as I tugged at the tiny booty shorts riding up my ass. I had nothing else to wear until my things were cleaned. As we parked in front of the shady building with people loitering outside, I began to feel more uncomfortable. I didn’t know there would be so many pervs at the laundry mat.