Sex is like laundry

Maybe it was the mood music I was listening to while sorting dirty laundry. I’m not sure. Whites over in THAT corner….his eyes lock on mine from across the kitchen. The dark clothes over in THAT corner…he approaches me. I turn and open the washer door. He cups my face with his hand. I fill the washing machine with dirty clothes. He grazes my lips with barely a kiss and then a bite ! WOW ZING!! I turn on the washing machine. The water starts cold. As with foreplay it takes a while for things to warm up. Soon the water is coming in faster. The soap is mixing with the dirty clothes. We are now hand in hand warming up, kissing. Lips, eye lobes, nape of neck. The wash tub is full and the agitation begins. Panties and bras tossed about. Soap suds bounced around. Froth building. We fall, limbs tangled, steam rising, rhythm joining. A slow and steady wash cycle. Back and forth. Music in it’s swish swish swish. We are making our own music. A slow and steady music of two hearts beating as one. We beat, and sweat, and breathe in union. The washer clicks to the spin cycle. A sudden pause. For rest? We look at one another. Deeply into each others eyes and pause. And then we spin. Arms up over my head I am ready to hold the world and this man. We spin together in a crazy place until we are spent, dried out, and exhausted.  Hell yeah….I love doing laundry.   =)


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