Peter sat in the laundromat, skimming through a two-year-old copy of Ladies Home Journal that he'd found. He was halfway through a "riveting" article detailing cheaper alternatives to dry-cleaning draperies when his dryer buzzed loudly, alerting him to empty it.

By sheer force of habit, he glanced around before he dumped the contents of the dryer onto the folding table. Only the disinterested attendant — a twenty-something community college type — was in the building, and he didn't so much as glance up from the book he was reading when the buzzer sounded. Peter had done the same thing before loading and emptying the washer, not to mention loading the dryer. The reason for his furtiveness was soon evident.

A cascade of satin and lace was spilled onto the table. Pastels and other bright colors tumbled from Peter's arms onto the cool plastic. Bras, panties, slips, and lingerie of all sorts were piled up. Peter began neatly folding them.

As he folded them, his heart beat loudly in his ears. It was always a secret thrill for him to come out in public to wash his lingerie. Sure he hand-washed the more delicate items at home, but he wore so much of it during the week that hand-washing all of it just wasn't an option.

He'd been coming to this laundromat twice a week now for the better part of a year. One trip was for his mundane "boy clothes" and the other was for his lingerie. He usually came later in the evening when there were no crowds, but he still got a special thrill out of it. He'd received a few odd looks over the year, but no one ever said anything to him. He was sure they'd seen enough men washing women's things here that it was probably assumed he was doing his girlfriend's washing.

As he folded the lingerie he sorted it; pairing panties with their matching bras, baby dolls, and nighties. Slips were piled together and panties with nothing to match them were also stacked neatly together. Garter belts found their way into their respective sets.

Peter finished his folding and placed everything neatly in the basket he'd brought it all in. He placed his laundry soap and fabric softener on top of it all, leaving it on the table while he made a pit stop in the bathroom before making the drive home.

The door gave a familiar creak as Peter entered, the rusty spring near the top closing it behind him. Its simple slide-bolt lock had long since fallen into disrepair. The bathroom was a narrow little rectangle of a room where a single-bulb fixture provided minimal lighting. The walls were covered in cheap oak-finish paneling that contrasted sharply with the dingy white tile floor.

Down the narrow strip of the room, a small porcelain sink hung on the wall. Less than two feet away the toilet was fixed to the floor, with no partition separating it from the rest of the room.

As he stood in front of the toilet Peter unzipped his pants and deftly pulled his panties to one side, freeing his member. Tugging them to one side caused the Rio-style back to creep partway into the crack of his ass, prompting a tiny sigh. Peter had just started to relieve himself when he heard the door creak open.

"Hey, I'm in here," he called out.

"I know," a male voice said as he stepped through the door. It creaked shut. "I've been waiting for an opportunity like this."

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked. He turned slightly so his back was to the intruder and looked slightly over his shoulder as he continued his business. It was the attendant.

"I've been watching you for months now. I want you to show me what panties you're wearing tonight."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do. All you panty boys are the same. You want to get caught."

"If you're referring to my girlfr. . .," Peter began.

"Your girlfriend's stuff — sure. Same old story. I've seen how much care and attention you take with it. Drop your pants and show me your pretty panties."

Peter finished peeing and tucked his cock away. Its slight twitch betrayed his true feelings about the thought of revealing his secret. He kept his back turned but didn't zip himself up. "I think you're mistaken."

"Bullshit," the attendant said. "Tell me, are they satin or lace tonight? I didn't see a panty line like I usually do when you're here. Are you wearing a thong perhaps?"

"I . . . uhhh . . ." Peter stammered.

"Do it! Drop your pants and let me see your panties!" Peter's hands moved woodenly to his belt and began to unbuckle it. "That's right. C'mon." Peter unbuttoned the waistband of his jeans and hooked his thumbs into the sides of his now-open pants. "Good girl. Now slide them down slowly. Show me your girly ass in your pretty panties."

Peter tugged gently on the waistband and slowly lowered his jeans, revealing his panties. They were mauve satin and the leg holes were trimmed with a narrow ruffle, giving them a more feminine look. The Rio-style back was snugged into the crack of his ass, accenting the ruffle even more.

"You have good taste in panties," the attendant said. "They make your ass look very appealing. Drop your pants all the way." Peter hadn't realized he was still clutching the waistband of his jeans. He let them fall to the floor, standing completely exposed. The clatter of his belt buckle was deafening in the silence.

"Yesssss. Very nice. Now turn around." Peter complied. He could feel the heat of blood rushing to his face as he blushed furiously. As he turned he became painfully aware of just how hard his cock was.

"Ohhhh, the panty-boy likes being ogled? Your dick is harder than mine right now. Tell me, are you a sissy? Do you like it when I look at you?"

Peter's voice was barely audible. "Yes."

"Well, we have a problem. Here I am with a hard-on and once my dick gets like this I like to give it some relief. Now, you're standing here in a pair of frilly panties and my dick's thinking, why should it settle for me stroking it off when an obviously willing sissy's right here. What do you think we could do about that?"

Peter stood transfixed and said nothing. The attendant stepped closer. His athletic shorts were tented out in front, doing nothing to conceal his hard cock.

"Pull them down," the attendant said. "Pull down my shorts and release my cock." Peter looked down and watched as his hands reached out, grasped the waistband, and began pulling the attendant's shorts down. At first, the front caught on his hard cock, but as the shorts went lower it sprang free, bobbing up and down enticingly.

"Now stroke it for me." Peter raised one hand and wrapped it around the attendant's stiff cock. He had never touched another cock before — it felt so warm and smooth.

"Mmm. That's right, squeeze it." Peter felt it twitch in his left hand as he gripped it, giving it several good squeezes. "Oh yeah. That feels good, sissy. Now really stroke it for me."

Peter began moving his hand back and forth on the stranger's cock, pulling on it. As his hand slipped over the head a huge drop of pre-cum oozed out onto his palm, lubricating it and making the cock slide more easily in his grasp.

"Oooh yeah. Stroke me, c'mon. Jerk it for me. Mmm."

Peter's mind was swimming in a sea of emotions but his hand seemed to be on autopilot. Here he was in a public restroom (with no lock on the door!) with his pants around his ankles jerking off some stranger while his own cock throbbed painfully in his pink panties. What was he doing? Why didn't he stop? Did he really want this? Did he want more?

"That's it! Keep it up and you'll get your reward. I'm almost there now."

Peter's left hand was moving faster now, really slick with pre-cum. His right hand moved to his own hard cock and started stroking himself through the satin.

"It's all too much for you isn't it? It's what your inner girly girl has needed all along. Pull your own cock and shoot all over yourself in your pretty panties."

Peter had a cock in each hand now. He was so turned on he knew he wasn't going to last long. His raw emotions were demanding the same release his cock craved.

"Turn around!" the attendant barked suddenly. Unsure of what was going on, Peter responded without thinking, doing as he was told. He let go of the stranger's cock and turned around. "Keep jerking yourself off. I want you to cum when I do."

Peter felt the moist heat of the attendant's cock, as it started moving between the cheeks of his pantied ass. He bent over slightly, his cum-slick left hand leaning on the wall for support as the attendant dry-humped his ass.

"Oh yeah, your satin-covered ass feels so good when I rub my cock in your crack. Work it for me. Work your pretty panties on my cock." Peter started moving his hips, trying to please the cock behind him while still stroking his own.

"Mmm. Are you ready? Are you ready for your reward? Are you ready to feel my nice hot cum? Are you?"

"Yes!" Peter said hoarsely, his breathing ragged and irregular.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'm ready!"

"Ready for what?"

"I'm ready to feel your nice, hot cum."

"Tell me you want it. Tell me where you want it."

"I do want it. I want to feel your hot cum all over my sissy ass."

"And what else do you want? What else do you need?"

"I want to cum too."

"Say it, then. Put it all together and let's make your dreams come true!"

"Cum on my ass! I want to feel your hot cum all over me while I jerk off in my own panties. Please? Please cum all over me?"

"That's all you needed to say," the attendant said. "That's all I wanted to hear."

Peter suddenly felt a pair of hands on his hips, then one finger hooked into the leg hole of his panties and tugged them up out of his ass and to one side. As he felt the attendant's cock slide between his satin panties and his ass the warmth of flesh-on-flesh was almost more than he could bear. The panties snapped back in place and the stranger started humping his panty-covered ass again, more insistent now.

"Here's your reward! Here it comes! I'm coming! I'm... Ahhhh... unnngghhhnnn."

Peter felt the intense heat and wetness as hot cum shot between his panties and his ass. His own orgasm followed before the attendant's was finished and he soon felt his own heat and wetness spreading in the front of his panties.

As they both finished their respective climaxes, Peter soon felt the cooling flood of cum oozing down over his cock and asshole to his balls. He was almost completely covered with cum inside his panties — only the waistband around his hips remained dry.

The attendant pulled out and then snugged Peter's soaked panties back into his ass. "That was great," he said giving his bare ass a smack.

"Mmm," was all Peter could manage. The attendant pulled up his shorts and underwear in one pull.

"Next time, wear a bra and garters with stockings." He headed for the door but stopped just before he opened it. "Oh, and bring some lipstick too. I just know I'm going to want to sample that pretty little mouth next time and I don't let guys blow me. You'll have to look the part."

"Okay," Peter said. He couldn't believe he just agreed to come prepared to blow this guy next week. The door creaked open.

"One more thing," the attendant said.

"Yes?"

"What's your name? Your sissy name. I know all you panty sissies have girlie names you call yourselves. What's yours?"

"Stephanie," Peter said in a barely audible whisper. "My name is Stephanie. But you can call me Steffie if you want to."

"Okay, Stephanie it is." The door creaked shut.

Later that night, as Steffie filled her ass with her favorite dildo, she wore the same cum-soaked panties she'd driven home in. All the while she thought about the laundromat attendant and how he'd be filling her mouth by this time next week.

She didn't even know his name, but she cried out a boy's name anyway as she came again, drenching the front of her panties for the second time that night. She drifted off to a sticky, blissful slumber; dreaming naughty dreams about college boys who liked special girls.