“Astoria! Oh, thank you for answering!” Sebastian Delacroix’s clipped, affected British accent grates on Astoria’s ears, but she’s the kind of girl who is loyal to a fault, and would never refuse a call for help, not even if it comes from a former enemy. “I need your help – desperately.” He looks her up and down, and she wonders if she has a stain on her miniskirt, surreptitiously looking down. (Nothing.) Yet his eyes are still all over her, the way she wished Zig would look at her at the party tonight, if they hadn’t wanted different things (monogamy, perhaps?).
“You dragged me away from a party because you need my help ‘desperately’.” Astoria can’t help but tease him a little, making air quotes. “I thought I told you to never call me again about the laundry.”
Sebastian swallows hard as she brushes past him, trailing one long, aqua lacquered nail across his designer button down shirt. “I got a new washing machine.”
“And you thought that I had nothing to do on a Friday night, so I would come over and show you how to use it?” Astoria draws her nail up Sebastian’s chest. This close, he smells strongly of cigar smoke and Hatchet, the body spray that’s supposed to “knock ’em dead in the boardroom or the bedroom”.
Sebastian swallows again, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. This close, Astoria can see the peach fuzz on his upper lip, where he’s obviously been trying (operative word, trying) to grow a ‘stache, hipster style. (What’s next, suspenders and a ukelele?) “Well, I had heard about your difficulties with Mr Ortega, and I thought this could provide a much needed… distraction.”
“The only distraction I’m looking for involves a bottle of the expensive shit. But I guess I can help you… do… It.” Astoria plays with Sebastian’s tie, looking up at him from under her lashes. “Hard and fast.”
“Hard?” He’s certainly that. His hardness is poking into her thigh. “I didn’t know, I… Very good.” Her prey moves a step away from her and takes her hand. His palms are as wet as her panties. “Let’s go fetch the libations.”
Astoria allows herself to be led to an impressive wine rack (not like that cheap one she had in her apartment). “I want that one,” she says, pointing to a bottle of Lythikos Cristal, worth a cool 10k. They say the bottle is studded with diamond chips. If it’s as hard as his cock, Astoria knows tonight will be a good one.
“I know I can make tonight worth your while,” Sebastian begins, fiddling with the cork. (Laundry isn’t the only thing he’s helpless at.)
“Otherwise, Mr Delacroix, you’d better be prepared to get on your knees and pray.” Astoria bends over to pick up the barrette that slides from her hair, her perfect little ass up in the air.
“I say!” Sebastian splutters, and the champagne he’s been fiddling with spurts foam all over her chest as she straightens up. Her nipples stand out like headlights, and he looks like a deer about to get pulverized when she strips her cardigan off. “I’m frightfully sorry!” Sebastian splutters. “Can I interest you in a shirt? One of mine.”
Astoria licks the champagne from her fingers like a cat. “Fuck me!”
“Sorry?” The bottle slips from his hands, but Astoria drops to her knees in front of him, barely saving it from smashing on the tiles. She licks the neck of the bottle, sucking the foam right out of the top, and from the look on Sebastian’s face, he’s about to ejaculate right then and there.
“Fuck me, this is some god tier shit right here!” Astoria takes a slug and wipes her mouth, handing the bottle to Sebastian, who pours the champagne into flutes with shaking hands. “Now are you going to show it to me, or do I have to find it myself?”
•••
“It can’t be as hard as you think.” Astoria looks up and down at the bulge in Sebastian’s pants, her hand on the washing machine. “Let’s find out.”
Sebastian looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “How?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do… It.” Astoria winks, stripping off her shirt. “You got me all wet, so I think for our first time, I can give you a demonstration.” She nods to him. “Take it off.”
Sebastian’s fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt. Astoria swoops in, taking over. She smells like bubblegum and strawberry shampoo. “Oh trust me, it’s harder than you’d think.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” Astoria strips him down, laying his shirt, blazer and tie out in a line next to her crumpled shirt. He looks anywhere but at her soaked blue cotton bralette, until it sails onto the washer. Then it’s the only thing he can look at. (After all, he’s trying to be polite.) What do you think will happen if I throw this bra in with your tightie whities?“
His mouth works, he can’t seem to form words. Her hands are unbuckling his belt, and then she’s pulling his pants down, the fringes of her braids brushing over his erection. “Blue balls?”
“Exactly. That’s why we don’t want to use hot water. College hack: wash everything in cold water.” Astoria turns around, her ass up in the air as she tosses everything in the machine. “How much lube does it need?”
“Lube?” Sebastian chokes on his drink. “Do you mean soap?”
“Sure. That’s what I said. Wet and slippery.” She turns back around, jumping up on the open washer, and points between her spread legs. “Two fingers.” At his flabbergasted expression, she elaborates. “Of soap?”
“Oh, of course.” Sebastian pumps several spurts of goo into the hole. Astoria scoots over to the top of the dryer, and turns the washer on (hot as hell). “Are you getting off?”
“Only if it’s hard and fast.” Astoria pats the washing machine. “Ready to rock your world?”
•••
Sebastian nearly trips over his own two feet trying to get his boxer briefs off. Astoria licks her lips, looking him up and down, and then he’s kissing her, his mushroom head bobbing against her lower belly. “Why, Mr Delacroix…” she says with a sultry purr. “I believe I’m finally meeting the star of the show.”
“He is quite the star,” Sebastian murmurs, and then his peach fuzz is scraping over her taut nipples as he motorboats her breasts. “You’re a dirty girl, Astoria Fox.” Sebastian has a stupid grin plastered across his face.
“I’ve been committing dirty deeds all over town. It’s a good thing I came over to get cleaned up.” Astoria buries her tongue in his throat, and her hands in his hair. She locks her ankles around his waist, and then he’s rocking against her to the rhythm of the washing machine. “But if you want to clean me up properly, you’d better be ready, because my panties are very, verywet.”
She yowls like a cat in heat when he yanks her panties aside, plunging two fingers inside of her. Astoria bucks her hips, clenching hard on his fingers as they thrust deeper and deeper inside of her, and then pulls them out, her juices glistening on his long digits. “I need you to clean me up with your tongue, Mr Delacroix.”
“You didn’t like that?” he asks, wounded. “I’ve never heard complaints before…”
“Are you a man or a machine?” Astoria tugs on Sebastian’s chin, spreading her legs wide. “Show me how you like to get on your knees and pray.”
When she places her feet on the floor, leaning back against the machine, he drops to his knees. The flat of Sebastian’s tongue sweeps over Astoria’s clit, and she moans, rolling her nipples between her fingers. The washing machine rumbles against her back as the washing cycle begins. She places a foot on his shoulder, and he begins to pump his fingers in and out of her again, alternating with long, greedy licks across the dripping folds of her bare pussy.
“Yes, Sebastian, oh my god, yes!” Astoria screams, pressing on his head, his tongue lapping faster and faster. “Lick your dirty girl!”
He sucks hard on her clit, pumping his fingers in and out of her, the room smells of sex and suds, but neither of them notice the bubbles pouring all over the floor from the back of the machine. “Astoria!” Sebastian moans as she starts to come, and her name in her mouth is enough for her to come completely undone, soaking his face with her juices. “Can we…?”
“Get inside of me, big boy,” Astoria purrs, and hops on top of the washing machine. He thrusts into her, when she remembers. “Is it in?”
“What?” Sebastian pulls back, crushed.
“The detergent!” Because the room smells more like fruit soap than clean n’ clear…
“Oh, the soap?” She bites his shoulder as he starts pounding into her again, and then her ankles are over his shoulders, his mouth on her nipples.
The two of them are fucking so hard, that neither of them hears the front door slam.
“Yes! Yes! Give it to me!” Astoria screams, feeling herself fast approaching a third climax as she rides Sebastian’s cock to the heaven where all the bad girls go. The machine is rattling so hard she’s afraid she broke it, but she’s too far gone to care. She comes just as the door to the laundry room slams open, and Sebastian and Astoria turn their heads to see Zig standing there, ankle deep in dish soap bubbles.
“Astoria, what are you doing?!” Zig gasps.
“Cleaning up the mess I made,” Astoria replies.