Published: July 12th 2025, 11:59:28 pm
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Would you let a 100% straight Blonde bearded married guy fuck you raw ?
I met him at the laundromat. One of those humid, gross afternoons where the whole block smells like hot trash and body spray. I wasn’t trying to be seen. Gym shorts, claw clip, oversized tote bag full of dirty laundry. Just in and out.
But then I saw him. Leaning against a dryer, arms crossed, eating Cheetos like it was a sport. Blonde hair like he surfed, full beard, and a black biker jacket in ninety-degree heat. Either unbothered or unhinged. Maybe both. The jacket creaked when he moved and somehow that made him hotter.
“You always separate whites like that?” he said, nodding at my open basket.
I raised an eyebrow. “You always wear leather in a heat wave?”
He smirked. “Only when I know someone’s gonna try to peel it off.”
We shared an iced tea on the folding table. Talked trash. Laughed too loud. He mentioned a wife like it was no big deal. Said she was home for the weekend with the kids. Shrugged like that meant anything. Then he handed me a shirt that wasn’t mine. “Keep it,” he said. “You’ll want something to sleep in.”
He wasn’t wrong.
At my place, I told him to sit and wait. I slipped into the bathroom, peeled off the sweaty day, and came out in my night dress. Thin, soft, clinging in all the right places. His eyes said everything.
The biker jacket hit the floor.
He stood. I dropped to my knees before he could say a word. We kissed like we were starving. His hands on my hips, my lips on him, no hesitations. On the couch, I straddled him, slow and steady, working his body until he cursed into my neck and dug his fingers into my waist.
We moved to the bed. I kissed his chest, his mouth, every inch he gave me. My hand worked him as he moaned into my skin. Then he flipped me and gave me more. Deeper. Rougher. The jacket was gone but the chaos stayed in his touch.
He stood again, pulled me close, took me while we kissed like we meant it. His voice in my ear. Mine in his mouth.
When he came, it was everything he’d been holding in since we met.
And me?
I never took the night dress off.
And I never asked about his wife again.