October Caption Challenge 1/31
Overall, the little group of apartments you’d moved into a couple weeks ago wasn’t too bad. The neighbors were nice for the most part, it was close to work, the rent was cheap. But if there was a complaint to be made, it was about the laundry situation. The apartments didn’t have separate washers and dryers–instead, there was a little basement where there were a couple of washers and dryers, all coin operated. It reminded you of being in college, and catching an empty washer could be hard, but generally, Friday nights had been working. You took your load downstairs, only to find Eddie down there putting his clothes in the washer, in his underwear, no less.
You were surprised he even did laundry, honestly. The guy was a slob, and kind of a jerk. He gave you a gruff hello, and both of you loaded your things separate. The silence was awkward, but temporary, and when you went back down to load your stuff into the dryer, he wasn’t there–he’d probably gotten drunk and forgotten about it. When your stuff is finished, you load it back into your basket, but the whole way back to your apartment, you notice an odd…smell coming from your clothes. You don’t use dryer sheets or fabric softener, because of your sensitive skin, but it doesn’t smell like that. It smells…like it’s not actually clean. The stupid washers are just old, you tell yourself, take your clothes in and fold them while you watch TV–and then you find the source of the smell, and gag.
In amongst your clothes are a pair of the filthiest briefs you’ve ever seen. The front is crusty with cum and piss, and the rear is coated with skid marks. They weren’t yours–did you just dry your whole load of laundry with this nasty shit? No wonder everything smells! You try to throw the briefs away, but your hand can’t let go of them–and to your horror, you press them to your nose, and give them a snort. The next thing you know, you’re sucking as much of the filth from them as you can, your cock rock hard in your slacks, grunting and snorting like a pig.
An hour passes, and there’s a knock on the door. You crawl over and open it, and find Eddie looming over you, wearing some underwear just as filthy as the ones from the dryer. You can’t stop yourself from shoving your face in his crotch, sniffing and licking, and he laughs. “That’s a good little piggy,” he says, “Let me in now, your Master needs a good cleaning. I haven’t had a good tongue bath in a long while–not since my last pig got evicted a few months back. Guess we’ll see how long you can keep yourself together, but if you’re already this far gone–I don’t think it’ll be too long. Too bad, you’re a cute one.”