4. Laundry Room (1)
I'm walking down the hallway with both arms stuffed full of bedding. Even for a single-size blanket, hauling the blanket and mattress cover all at once blocks my view completely. On top of that, I've got the powdered detergent from the convenience store clutched in my hands, making the whole load even more awkward. I've been soaking it every night for days now—it's gotten so sticky to the touch and starts to smell every time I handle it. I just can't take it anymore. Good thing I picked up detergent yesterday; time to toss it in for a quick wash.
It's been ages since I've worn all my clothes properly as I trudge down the hallway. I've only been in this dormitory a few days, but walking around fully dressed—even down to my underwear—feels so damn awkward.
The laundry room is a bit smaller than my room, with white tiles covering the floor and walls. The white top-load washers are lined up in a neat row. There's a small window up near the ceiling, but it doesn't let in enough air, so the door is propped open to stay ajar. I don't know about the other floors, but ours has so few rooms that there should be plenty of machines to go around.
I grab the nearest washer and shove the obstructing bedding inside with my whole body. Back in the room, I was worried it wouldn't fit, but it goes in surprisingly easily, leaving plenty of space.
I tear open the detergent bag a little and pour some onto the bedding.
"Ah."
Unexpectedly, a heap of powder spills out, forming a little mound on top of the blanket. What do I do? If I run it like this, the blanket's gonna smell like detergent clumps...
At home, I'd measure it with a cup, but I messed up here. Guess I need to add more laundry. Maybe grab a towel? That's when my eyes fall on the clothes I'm wearing.
Loose wide pants and a single t-shirt. And underwear with those white stains. The stuff I threw on earlier, excited but disappointed when no one was around. It's all the clothes I own right now.
They're not exactly clean anyway... My pants got completely soaked last time too... What if I just wash everything?
Mmm, that doesn't sound half bad. My pussy starts getting wet, like it's giving its approval.
No window overlooks the laundry room... but the door's propped open, and just beyond it is the hallway anyone could wander into. What if I strip completely and toss it all in the washer?
Emotions I thought had cooled off reignite. My heart pounds fiercely, anticipation filling my chest. A slight tightness. I love this suffocating feeling too. My breaths shorten, moisture gathering inside my panties.
I untie the drawstring on my pants with my now-free hands. Damp air escapes from the loosened waistband.
Already that excited? What a total pervert.
Yeah... I'm a complete pervert. No clothes left to wear, but I'm gonna wash every last piece in the machine.
I slide the pants down a bit. They slip off my hips, sliding down my legs to the floor. It's all going in the wash anyway—no big deal if it touches the ground. I don't even care if it brushes my shoes as I step out of them completely.
Now I'm stripping outside too. True bottomless mode.
I glance down—my short t-shirt doesn't cover my panties at all. Even from up here, they're fully visible. If someone were in front of me, they'd see everything: my panties, the white stains, the fresh wetness seeping between my legs.
Next, I lift my arms and peel off the t-shirt. Now the only thing left on my body is underwear.
Just a few days ago, I never would've stripped like this inside or outside the house. But now I've exposed my skin outside so many times. Satisfaction swells inside me at the change.
If it feels this good, I should've started sooner. I had no idea a place where no one knows me, where no one's around, could feel so amazing.
I flaunt my underwear shamelessly to the washers waiting quietly like an audience. Keep watching from now on. Don't look away.
I reach back and unhook my bra. I show off my pretty, teardrop-shaped breasts to my spectators.
Isn't it amazing? You've seen tons of students, but I'm probably the first to strip naked here, right? I talk to the washers like I'm really addressing an audience. No response, of course. But silence means consent, doesn't it? Same as hearing a yes.
I slide down the last piece of clothing. As my pussy parts from the center of my panties, it leaves behind a sticky bridge of fluids. Even when the panties pool at my ankles, the bridge doesn't break.
I toss the now-dirty-from-my-shoes panties into the washer, and the bridge snaps, splattering juice onto the buttons. I gently wipe it with my finger and hit start.
It immediately roars to life, water pouring in. With all that noise, someone might come investigate—I should wait in my room.
As I head for the door, I realize something I hadn't clocked yet.
Ah... If I've stripped and washed everything, what the hell am I supposed to wear back to my room?
Stupid me, I didn't bring anything. Not that there's anything left to bring anyway. Even if there was, would I have?
The pervert inside me shakes her head. Yeah, I think so too. I wouldn't have brought a thing.
I brush over my perky nipples and breasts. It feels so good.
Should I wait here naked in the laundry room, or head back to my room? Waiting naked here sounds thrilling, but stepping into the hallway completely bare sounds even better.
But... the hallway, where anyone could pass by—that has to feel the best, right?
With my head all fuzzy, I step out of the laundry room. Hallway light pours over my body. Born naked, just as I came into the world. Nothing covering me.
No one's watching, but just being out in the hallway makes my pussy throb and quiver. I feel my heart racing, my breaths tight and ragged. But even more intense are the sensations in my pussy and breasts.
I'm stark naked in a hallway anyone could walk through. No clothes to cover up if someone comes. A stupid, perverted slut—that's me.
But that's why I came to a place like this, isn't it? I'm doing great.
Voices accuse and defend me at once. I side with the defender.
"This is right..."
The moment I commit, my heart steadies. All that's left is delicious tension and dizzying pleasure.
Juice flows from my untouched pussy, soaking my legs completely. Droplets splatter the floor, leaving spots.
Without thinking, I slide a finger along my slit.
"Nnhat...!"
A moan slips out on its own. More drops scatter across the floor as my fingers move roughly. Slick fluids coat my lower belly with every motion.
This feels so good...
My legs carry me forward bit by bit until I'm at the elevator. The crossroads: back to my room or out into the world?
Beyond the glass door outside. If there were people, nowhere to hide. Realizing I'm right there sends a powerful jolt of pleasure through me.
Wind slips through the glass door, caressing my sensitive skin, endlessly sparking bliss. I feel every single breeze.
This is the best... I want to live like this every day.
I want to finish right here, but my feet start moving. Slowly, so slowly. One step at a time, matching the rhythm of my fingers on my pussy.
Suddenly, doors line both sides. If someone bursts out—if a new resident I don't know comes in right now and sees my wet pussy.
They'd point and call me a pervert slut. Rumors would spread, I'd never show my face again. Guys would hear I'm easy and come after me.
"Eut, uh... hngaaah!"
I know it's impossible. This dorm is empty except for me. Still, the fantasy alone makes me cum lightly. My hips buck wildly, irregularly.
"Haah, haa..."
Lewd juices run down my legs to the floor. My drenched pussy and legs feel cool, shivery—so good.
I'm at my door now. "Im Ha-yoon" clear on the nameplate. I punch in the code with soaked fingers.
Beep-beep-beep. The lock flashes.
Fingers too wet for recognition? I wipe them on my soft breast, pinching a nipple while pretending to clean.
"Eut, uut. Mmph."
The pleasant sensation echoes endlessly. This time, my trembling fingers unlock it.
A little disappointing. Would've been fun if it didn't open.
In the hallway behind me, where no rain has fallen, a trail of droplets lines the floor in a straight row.