Going for a spin

Let his body do the work as you sit back and revel in the deep, pulsating rhythms of a heavy-duty turbine.

I’m still trying to adjust to working from home. It’s been weeks since the quarantine started, but I just can’t wrap my head around this new reality. Nothing I do in this heaving heat could make me focus on analyzing page after page of company data. 

I tug at my loose gartered shorts. The fabric has been uncomfortably clinging to my skin under the unrelenting humidity. I’ve run out of underwear, and I wasn’t about to make a return trip to the grocery two kilometers away, all for a forgotten bag of detergent. My husband volunteered to take my place.

I turn around on my belly and eye the clock— Nathan has been out for more than twenty minutes already. It’s rather quiet without his usual crazy antics. I’ve complained that his constant neediness has been keeping me from work, but now that I’m on my own, I find myself looking for another reason to keep my eyes open.

As if he heard my fingers tapping impatiently, he comes bursting through the door. 

“Honey, I’m home!” He flashes his signature lopsided smile and waves a string of candy-colored plastic packaging. “We were running out of these as well, but good thing I remembered this time.”

I come in for a hug but he pushes me aside, his cloth mask dangling from one ear. I notice that he’s still breathing heavily from his unprecedented grocery run. He pulls off his shirt and wrings it out, sweat dripping unto the kitchen floor.

“Let me shower first.” He instinctively rubs the back of his neck and throws his shirt unto the table. “This isn’t the kind of dirty that you’d find the least bit sexy.” 

He runs into the shower and chucks the rest of the clothes off by the door. Sometimes I ask myself if I married a child when he acts like this. The laundry area is literally by the door to the left! 

I might as well start on the laundry while he’s cooling himself off. I know it’s impractical to fantasize about installing an air conditioning unit in the laundry area, but this summer is even more unforgiving than the ones before it. Midway into sorting the clothes, I can already feel my sweat slowly soaking up my thin shirt. It’s turned translucent, sticking to the dips and crevices of my chest. I decide to just throw it in with the rest of the whites. 

I turn the dial to start a normal cycle of fifteen minutes. That should also be a good estimate for when Nathan finishes his shower. Plenty of time for me to sneak in some me time too.

I lean against the washing machine, my hips pressed against the buzzing curved edge. I slide my left hand down the loose garter of my red shorts, matching my strokes with the vibrations from the pulsating turbines. I imagine the cycles going round and round as I draw my own fingers around in circles between my thighs. 

The low hum of the machine blends in with my soft moans. Hopefully, that’s enough to hide how restless I am getting. It feels too embarrassing to get caught having fun by myself like this. 

I slowly draw lines with my finger along my insides. Just as I’m starting to feel moist, a cool touch runs across the length of my spine. I shoot straight up in shock, eyes wide open in alarm, and find Nathan looking at me with a crooked grin.

His hands, still cold from the blast of water in the shower, wrap around my tiny waist. His thumbs slide into the hems of my shorts. He tugs at them a bit, lowering them enough to expose my hand. 

“Hands where I can see them. Explain yourself, miss,” he whispers cockily as he places his chin on my shoulder. He blows a warm breath right at the base of my neck when I take a second too long to reply.

“You were taking too long, you idiot,” I reply with a jagged sigh. I can feel the vibrations from his chuckle as he leans his body against mine. His cold skin feels like sweet relief as it melts into mine.

He pulls down my shorts a bit lower, so I instinctively press my thighs together. I still feel a bit antsy around him whenever he makes a sudden move. 

“That’s a bit unfair. I’m completely uncovered, yet you don’t want me to pull that stop sign off of you,” he teases me as he tugs them a tad lower.

“I can do it myself,” I argue, trying to remove them on my own. He holds them up instead. My lips form a pout, and he bites down another smile.

I give in and relax my legs as he completely pulls my shorts down to my ankles. I kick them off towards the colored pile. I think. It’s hard to get my thoughts together when my head is spinning. He keeps a steady gaze on me as he lifts me unto the whirring box behind us.

Our eyes are now level with each other. Nathan slowly leans forward, not breaking eye contact, while I plant my palms behind my back for support. He goes in for a kiss as his fingers wander downwards. His left thumb strokes my clit in slow but firm movements. And that wicked mouth trails kisses from my lips to my chin, down to the middle of my clavicles. 

His thumb slides down to my entrance slowly drawing circles. I let my head fall backward as I feel him guide the tip of his penis to where his thumb was. He slowly inches in his entire length, and I draw in a sharp breath. The vibrations of the washing machine massage him from my insides as he slowly rocks his hips.

I close my eyes to let all these sensations wash over me. My lower back starts to arch and my shoulders drop backward. I shift my hips to meet his and we move faster, lost in our own primal rhythm.

Goosebumps prickle my skin. My arms are starting to feel like they’re going to give out soon, so I gradually lower myself until I’m on my elbows. I raise the small of my back slightly so he could reach farther, deeper inside me. His breathing turns into a low growl. I try to sound sexy, but mine sounds more like a whimper. 

His hands tighten their grip on my waist, as he slows down before picking up the pace again. My breathing hitches and I can feel myself on the edge— 

The rush of electricity engulfs my system as my entire body tenses then lets everything go. I feel him pull away before allowing himself to collapse on top of me.

The timer dings a few breaths later. The motor finally slows down beneath me. Nathan props himself up on his elbows and fakes a scoff.

“Oh my god. We finished before the timer by a hair’s breadth.” He presses forward, his head leaning towards me until it was inches from mine. “You need to stop making me feel so good too quickly. But you did finish first this time.”

I couldn’t take his cackling, so I playfully push him off. “Shut up. I blame the washing machine.” I climb down and try not to slip with the sweat now covering every inch of my skin.

“Hey, I did most of the work! Why does this hunk of junk get all the credit?” Nathan playfully kicks the corner of the appliance. 

I turn the dial to drain. He peers over my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my waist. All the coolness is gone from his skin now. “We still have two other loads. Can we go for a couple more rounds later?”

I tap my fingers against the metal casing of the washing machine, pretending to contemplate his proposal. “Maybe… If you finish up the laundry and fold it after.”

He gives me a squeeze from behind. “‘Maybe’ is still better than a flat out no. You got yourself a deal, Honey.”