The Best Defense: A Sports Romance

Devon

Who the fuck are they kidding sending me out here to the laundromat, I dont know how to do laundry. Yet, here I am stood in front of the closest laundromat to the house. Should I be embarassed that I am a twenty year old grown man who doesnt know how to do his own laundry? Yes. Am I? Also, yes.

The broken florescent sign above the door gives me no hope that this whole experience will go well. I have no choice though, unless I was willing to turn my underwear inside out to prolong the days, which I am not. Ever. Hygiene is a top priority. Between hockey, the gym and sex. I sweat a lot. So clean clothes are a necessity.

I wouldnt have to be here if Matt would have kept his dick to himself, but he had to go and dick down with the last housekeeper. Feelings were caught on her end, he did not reciprocate. It's a tale as old as time. Manwhore versus girl who thinks she can change him. It never works out that way in reality, or at least not in my reality. Any-whore, until a new housekeeper is hired we're all left to fend for ourselves. I voted to make Matt do it all since it's his fault but he pitched a fucking fit and pulled the Captain card.

I pull the door open and a bell jingles above me. It's disgustingly bright in here, but it's clean. A long row of washing machines runs down the middle of the small room, with large industrial sized dryers lining the far wall. I bring my bag to the closest machine and read the instructions on the machine.

Get the detergent, put clothes in the washer, put detergent in, pay, done. This isn't rocket science, I can definitely do this. I turn around to find an older broad staring at me, and by staring I mean ogling, hard. I'm no stranger to lust filled glaces but I put a cap on the age gap, and from the looks of her she far exceeds that limit. Still, I offer a smile while asking where I can get detergent. She offers me a small pack of a detergent, then when I go to pay her she insists it's on the house. I could put up a fight but, instead I give her a flirty little wink and go back to the machine.

I can feel another set of eyes on me but I have yet to see another person in here so far. I toss the clothes into the machine, rip open the packet of detergent and thrown the small pod into the machine. So far, so good.

Lastly I put the money in and press start.

clink. clink

The two coins I put in have fallen to the small tray. I must have done something wrong. I grab the coins and stare at the instructions. I did it all. So I put the coins in a second time, and press start for a second time.

clink. clink.

Frustrations bubbles in me and I let out a small growl when I grab the coins again.

"Stupid fucking.." I trail off growling still.

A small giggle causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. I turn to see who giggled and find myself staring into the most incredible blue eyes I have ever seen. She's smiling now, but her lips are pressed together, in what i assume is an attempt to stifle her laugh. Her face is framed by tendrils of auburn hair that must have fallen out of the bun on top of her head, that resembles a birds nest.

"I was really rooting for you to figure it out, but I can't watch you struggle." Her lips break apart when she releases a giggle, "may I?" She gestures to the coins in my hand.

"Be my guest, please." I place the coins in her hand and watch as she skirts around me to get to the machine. Which gives me time to look at her. Beyond her extremely gorgeous face, she's slender in the waist, with wide hips and thick thighs. Her extremely perky ass looks magnificent in the tight jeans she has on. When I finally get to her feet pink converse peek out from under the stupidly wide flared jeans. I trailed my eyes back up, she's got the perfect hourglass figure.