Little Story about Mark and Anne

Mark and Anne talked as he put his laundry into one of the washers. She couldn't believe this guy had just popped up right in front of her with laundry while she was looking for the laundry room. Anne tried not to get too excited though. In her experience most guys were only interested in sex.

Anne wanted the physical attention, to be sure, but that wasn't the end of it. Even if she did have just a vacation fling, she still wanted it to be meaningful and positive. From the way Mark spoke and acted she didn't think he was one of those guys who would hit and run. He seemed different to her. She found herself thinking about how stupid she could be, because she had only known him five minutes. She was also a really bad judge of men's character.

Mark was holding out his hand before she realized he had stopped talking. He had been telling her about the waves at a beach not far from the house he grew up in. Anne wished she had heard what he said before he held out his hand. She was starting to think that she would mess up everything with Mark before they even got to know each other.

"You were daydreaming. I do that a lot. I was just going to throw your clothes in with mine if you wanted me to," Mark said quietly. "I'm not poor, but I'm also not rich. The two dollars they want you to pay for each load of clothes is highway robbery, no matter how you look at it."

"That's really nice of you. Thank you," Anne told him as she held out her laundry sack. "You were talking about Hawaii, and I started thinking about how beautiful it must be. Your voice is almost hypnotic."

She laughed to cover up the constant internal critiquing of what she was saying. Mark smiled at her when she laughed, and somehow that made her genuinely more cheerful. He had a way of making her feel like her inadequacy wasn't a big deal. That's why she thought he might be different.

"Why did you leave Hawaii?" she asked him.

"There weren't enough jobs that paid well enough to make it worth staying. And it was a lonely place," he answered. He did not continue. Anne sensed something just beneath the surface of what he said.

"It was lonely there? Do you mean there weren't many people?"

"No, there were plenty of people. Well, it was nothing like one of the cities here on the mainland, but there are big towns. I wasn't far away from civilization or anything," he said. He could see the inquisitive look on her face so he added, "But I was involved with someone for a really long time. When we broke up she kept all our friends, and I got to be alone. That sounds so self pitying. I mean --"

Anne cut him off. "You don't have to tell me all that. I'm really sorry I brought it up. I hope I didn't bring up bad memories. I just wanted to know more about you... since we're sharing a washing machine now."

"It's okay. It was last year anyway. It wasn't that recent. I'm not sure even I realized how the whole thing has still been getting me down, until you asked me about it."

There were a few long moments of awkward silence between scattered minutes of small talk. The time was marked only by the sound of the spinning washing machine. Anne really couldn't think of anything to say. She was about to say something completely irrelevant, from way out in left field. Mark beat her to the punch.

"I'm only going to be here a couple of days. You seem like a really nice girl. I just don't want to lead you on concerning anything in the future. I have to be back at work less than 72 hours from now, in Atlanta. I can't imagine you'd want to hang out with me considering we have no time to spend together."

"But that's not true. 72 hours can be a long, long time. If we fill the time up right, it could be something we always remember," she told him as straightforward as she had the guts to.

Anne was actually surprised she was able to talk to him with such self confidence. Trusting herself had become a casualty of her last two failed relationships. She desperately needed to break the cycle of assholes. The washing machine finished as those thoughts echoed around in her head.

"Allow me," Anne told him. She transferred the contents of the washer to the dryer above it. The machines were all like that, washer on bottom and dryer on top, except for two over-sized sets of machines at the back of the room. She finished and started it up. Mark paid for the washer and she for the dryer. Anne knew she was getting off light in the exchange.

When she turned around she caught Mark looking at her. The way he looked at her caused her to moisten considerably. Her lower lip quivered as she returned his gaze. At that moment she didn't care about the past or the future, and there was nothing left inside her but want.

Mark was sitting on the washing machine next to the one they had just used. He had his legs spread, and Anne could make out a bulge running part of the way down the right leg of his shorts. She stepped up to him and put her arms around him. He did the same thing in one fluid motion. She made sure she was pressed up tightly against his manhood as they started kissing.

Anne could feel Mark's cock stiffening as their tongues met and investigated each other. He put his right hand on her ass and squeezed her left cheek, pulling her in even closer. She could even feel his pulse beneath the fabric of his shorts and through her flimsy t-shirt. She backed up and pulled back in with her mouth, just enough to break contact. Anne tasted his mouth from a different angle every time.

She put both of her hands under Mark's shirt. She could make out every individual muscle as she ran her hands over his smooth flesh. Even his smell was driving Anne crazy. By that time she wasn't smelling cologne, she was smelling him. She thought he smelled sort of like faint ocean spray and dry leather. She couldn't put her finger on it. Anne pulled off his shirt and began running her lips all over his upper body, sniffing very lightly as she went. She thought the smell had to be getting her drunk.

Mark stood up off of the washer, strode over to the door to the laundry room and closed it. He was surprised there was a lock on the door. He returned to Anne in nothing flat. He unclasped her bra in one quick snap, and her breasts came free under her t-shirt. He pulled her shirt and bra over her head, and admired the beautiful sight of her underneath. Anne pulled in close to him again, but she got a little surprise as her picked her up and sat her on the washer.

Anne could only play with his hair as he held her, with his arms behind her back. He was licking and sucking her nipples. He used his arms to reposition her slightly as he switched back and forth between her two breasts. He nipples had hardened and stiffened to such an extreme they were causing her a little discomfort. When Mark noticed how tight and swollen they were he started nipping at them. He bit them lightly at first and then somewhat harder as Anne moaned.

Mark turned his attention to Anne's shorts. She was too impatient to wait for him to undo them, so she skinned out of them in an instant. The metal of the washing machine lid was cold on her ass, but her pussy was so hot Anne thought it might go to her head. She had burning goosebumps all over her body as Mark examined her.

Mark took time out from driving Anne crazy by playing with her breasts to making her crazy by focusing on her sex. She turned bright red as he put his hands on her either side of her and pulled her open just a little bit. She was uncomfortably flush, and wanted him worse than she had wanted anything in a long, long time.

Anne came off of the washing machine. She had concluded that was slowing things down. She hadn't had sex in five months, and that resulted in a lot of built up pressure. She fumbled at the bow knot holding Mark's shorts up. Anne was already naked, and she decided it was getting past the time that he should be too.

"Hold on. I've got it," Mark said to her as he pulled the knot loose. "Are you sure you want to do this? Am I not going too fast?"

"Yeah. No, I'm naked because I was having doubts. Look, we can do this slow later. You can show me all your tricks. Whatever, but I'm going to explode if I can't get off in the next five minutes."

Mark giggled. Anne almost laughed too, and she wished she could have. The problem was that she was deadly serious. She was worried she might literally die if she couldn't get him inside her soon. Mark took a moment to pull out a condom, and Anne helped him roll it down his length securely. She was really glad he had that, even if she couldn't figure out where the hell it came from. She did make a halfhearted chuckle come out right before Mark picked her up.

Anne could feel the metal of the washing machine again, but this time she wasn't all the way on it. Mark was basically holding her up, but there was just enough of her in contact with the edge to keep him from having to hold up all of her weight.

Mark was kicking off the shorts as he hefted her, and she go a good look at his cock right before he was about to be inside her. She liked what she saw, a lot. He was circumcised, which she always considered very important for sanitary reasons. She could see that he didn't have an extremely long one, but his girth was way above average. A second later she sucked in air as he started pushing his way into her. "Way thicker than average," Anne thought to herself as it went in.

Anne wondered if Mark would stretch her out, because it was such a tight fit. After he was in all the way he started pulling back and plunging back in. Within a minute a lot of her consciousness centered on the incredible sensation of being full and empty. Marked rubbed against her clit with every down stroke, grinding into her to make sure he touched her inside as deeply as possible. Anne could feel him reaching places inside her she had never felt before.

The sensation of having Mark touch her like no man had ever been ale to was making Anne go somewhat out of her mind. Way back in the back of her awareness she could feel him squashing her clitoris between his padded pelvis and hers. The feeling almost became an entity all to itself, a creature of pleasure she could feel squirming between their bodies at the exact place where they met, where she was most sensitive.

The feeling coming from her loins grew and grew. The pleasure from her clit reached out to tiny, thin threads of pleasure all over inside Anne. It felt as though the connections between all the pleasures grew in intensity, becoming bigger and bigger and bigger. No longer were there separate feelings connected to each other. Her pleasure had spread equally through all parts of her, and at the center of it Mark was still pulling in and out of her.

Just as the pleasure began to reach a critical point Mark picked her all the way off of the washing machine. He was holding her in midair and pounding into her with abandon. The pleasure exploded from her pussy in wave after wave of exquisite release.

Anne's orgasm was so intense she was seeing colors behind her eyelids. It was like she was in a tunnel, and everything that moved past her reached deep into her and pulled out another uniquely pleasurable sensation. Her body was trembling violently, and she found a few tears had steamed down her cheeks. She had no idea when or why, but she knew it felt good.

At that moment Mark came. Anne thanked God for Mark's sense as she felt a massive expansion of the rubber inside her. Mark sat her back down on top of the washing machine, and pulled out gingerly. Sure enough, Anne was right, and she was super thankful it wasn't inside her. She could only imagine the sloppiness of the elevator ride up to her condo.

Anne jumped down and began throwing her clothes back on. Mark was faster than she was. In seconds they looked like nothing had ever happened, except for the part where they looked like they had just had sex with each other. Right then the dryer buzzed.

"Anne, would you like to go get dinner with me?" Mark asked as he separated their clothes.

"That sounds great. Don't think I'm just gonna jump into bed with you after it's over though. I'm not that type of girl," Anne said with a smirk.

"Well, I am that type of boy though," Mark said with a smile. "You may have to watch your self around me."

"I believe that. I certainly believe that," Anne said in a slightly sultry tone.

Anne had forgotten all about the rain. The vacation had already become a good one, and she was pretty sure it was going to get better. Not only that, they didn't have to worry about a break up. It was all good.

The Beach: Part One [Rated G]

Anne was sitting on the balcony of the condo she had rented for $200 a day in Destin, Florida. She had saved for her vacation all year. She had wanted it to be the best week of the year. The rain that hadn't stopped in the three days since she had arrived there made it difficult for her wish to come true. She was happy she at least got to look at the waves.

There was a bag on the floor just inside the door. It contained all of the stuff she was going to be taking down to the beach every day, where she was going to be working on her tan. There was sunscreen to keep her from soaking up harmful UV rays. She had sun glasses so guys couldn't tell she was scoping them out. There were binoculars so she could check out guys that were far away. There was a great big towel, a copy of a Dark Hunter book by Sherrilyn Kenyon and a giant sippy water cup with a no spill lid. In fact, all she was missing was a beach and some sunlight.

Anne didn't like bars. In her mind there was nobody in bars but drunks. Drunk people reminded her of one of her creepy uncles who was drinking every time she ever saw him. She never liked the way he looked at her. Since she didn't go to bars and there was no beach, there she was on the balcony.

Anne wondered how much blood would splatter if she jumped. She wasn't suicidal, but she did have a macabre sense of humor at times. For about the millionth time since she got there she wished someone was with her. Her friend Catherine wanted to go, but couldn't get away from work the week Anne had reserved long in advance. There was nothing that could be done about it by the time the loneliness of the vacation became a reality.

Anne went inside, but left the sliding glass door to the balcony open. The wind coming in from the Gulf felt like the perfect temperature, a spectacular thing to feel on her body. From the seventh floor she could see fishing boats on the water what looked like miles away. She didn't get her binoculars to look at them because she had gotten so sick of that already she wanted to fling them out the door. The only thing really stopping her was the possibility she could kill someone below if they were hit by the falling object.

She went into the bedroom. Originally she had unpacked her suitcase neatly into the chest of drawers and closet. Somewhere around hour 40 of her vacation she began taking every single item out and trying it on. There were now jeans, shirts, a couple of dresses, lingerie, underwear, socks and some shoes, scattered all over the room. She gathered everything up to take down to the laundry on the second floor. That was going to be her fun activity that early afternoon.

Everything that didn't need refreshing was put up. Everything that did was bundled up in a hemp laundry sack. Anne left the condo carrying the sack and locked the door behind her. "Her" condo was at the eastern end of a long line of other condos. It was one condo from the bigger, more expensive condos on the corners of the building. The elevators were locate in the dead center of the two sides.

Anne took the elevator down to the second floor and stepped out looking for a sign pointing to the laundry room. She didn't find one. She walked to the end of the balcony and condos on both the eastern and western sides of the building. She couldn't find a sign anywhere. She got back in the elevator and went down to ground level.

There were even fewer places for her to look on the bottom floor. Anne walked around with the laundry sack until she was sure she not only looked stupid but would also not find the laundry room. She distinctly remembered the the lady on the phone telling her that there as a laundry on the second floor of the building. Since she had decided to vacation there based on word of mouth she didn't have any sort of brochure to look at. She was rapidly becoming disgusted with everything about the trip.

Anne decided to try one more place before giving up, the third floor. She was already plotting her next move if the laundry room wasn't there. The next step would be going to the manager's office and smashing everything she could get her hands on. Then she was going to go up to her room and throw everything in it off the balcony. Anne was not in a good mood.

She got back in the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. When the doors opened up there was a beautiful young guy standing in front of her, evidently waiting for the elevator. He had a laundry sack in his hands. Anne found her mouth had come open, and she was blocking the entrance to the elevator. She wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

The guy who left her speechless was around six feet tall. He had dark skin and curly dark brown hair. It was the longer kind of curls though, not the short frizzy kind of curls that somebody could get from a perm. His eyes looked out of place. Their greenish blue color clashed slightly with his skin. That served to draw more attention to his eyes, which Anne was finding herself lost in.

"Do you mind if I share the elevator?" he asked Anne. "I realize you're going up, which is not the direction of the laundry, but I left some clothes in a friend's condo up on the fifth floor that I need back."

Anne gathered her wits, stepped out of the way and said, "Sure. It's not my elevator anyway." Her words echoed around in her head, and she started thinking, "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Focus, Anne. Focus."

"I'm looking for the laundry too. I mean, I need to wash clothes. Where is the laundry?" she asked. As the doors closed she realized she had intended to get off there on the third floor, until the doors opened and she saw the man.

"It's on the second floor," he said politely, as though nothing in the world seemed out of place to him. He evidently could not hear the jumbled confusion in her head.

"I looked on the second floor already. That's why I was about to look on the third floor, where you were," the words spilled out without Anne consciously formulating them. That was probably good, she thought, because that removed the chance of her saying something stupid in overcompensation for her nervousness.

"That's the fourth floor, the..."

Anne broke in with, "But I pushed the button for the second floor."

"... first floor is labeled LL, the second floor is labeled 1," he said with a big smile on his face.

Anne felt herself turning bright red. The man's proximity was making her feel drunk. He had on some really elusive cologne that she could barely smell, but which was out of this world. She looked down to try to hide his eyes, but wound up looking at his legs.

"Of course he has perfect legs. I wouldn't be crashing and burning if he had muscular dystrophy or something," she thought to herself. The elevator doors opened and the guy stepped out. Anne wanted to say something but there just wasn't anything there.

"I tell you what. Walk down to my friend's room with me. I'll grab my stuff, and then I'll show you where to find the laundry room. By the way, I'm Charles.

"That sounds great," Anne replied. "My name is Anne."

Charles was already walking down the hall by the time she said her name. She admired the way he looked in olive green cargo shorts and a white t-shirt. It was the sort of clothing that didn't cost a lot of money, but attractive people could make look like a million bucks. They passed a big window, and she could see that light rain was still falling.

Charles stopped in front of the door to the condo one back from the corner and knocked on it lightly. When nobody answered he put his finger to his lips. "Shhh." He then opened the door and snuck in, leaving it cracked just a little as he went inside. He was back out in just under a minute.

Charles pulled the door closed and made a signal for Anne to follow him. He picked the pace up quickly. Anne found herself jogging down the hall behind him. The elevator was sill on that floor. Just as they stepped into it Anne could hear a woman's voice yelling, "Charles! Was that you?"

"That was a friend's girlfriend," Charles explained. "I owe her money."

Anne found herself smiling conspiratorially. She got a little thrill in her stomach thinking she had just done something risky with a gorgeous guy. She was just about to ask Charles where he was from when they got to the floor labeled 1. He beat her to the punch.

"Where are you from, Anne?" he asked nicely.

"I'm from Northwest Arkansas. We have a big lake, but it doesn't have any waves." Anne wished somebody had been there to stomp on her foot before she got the whole sentence out. She also wished there was some way she could bang her head into a wall without Charles noticing. She recovered though.

"Where are you from, Charles?" she asked.

"I'm from Hawaii. My family has a fantastic place on Oahu," he glanced at her while he was talking. "And I can see you're wondering why I'm here if I could go home to Hawaii."

Actually, Anne had thought nothing of the sort. She was busy looking at him. In fact, she had to focus not to lose track of what he was saying.

"I'm listening," she said, hoping he hadn't really been waiting those few seconds for her to respond.

"And here's the laundry room," Charles announced.

The laundry room took up the amount of space two condos would have filled. There were a bunch of machines. The furthest thing from Anne's mind at that point was doing her laundry.

Charles started talking again, which helped her maintain composure. She wanted to make sure he didn't get away. At the same time she didn't really know anything about him. He could have had a girlfriend or a wife, for all she knew. She hoped she wasn't getting her hopes up just because he was being so friendly.

"I'm here because it's a quick trip from Atlanta. I'm a network security specialist for a firm there, and I can't manage to get free very often. Even when I do get a break it's not for very long. A friend of mine from Duke owns a couple of condos here, which he rents out for extra income. He lets friends stay for free, so here I am."

"I'm here because I've never been to a coast before. I wanted to swim and get tan and enjoy the weather. Instead all I've gotten is soggy," Anne said pitifully.

"Well, you can hang around with me if you want to," Charles told her.

Anne hoped hadn't just said that because he felt sorry for her. Then, almost as quickly, she decided she didn't care why he said it. She wanted to have at least one good memory of Florida. She decided she was looking at it, and she liked what she saw.

"Are you sure, Charles? I don't want to intrude on your life," she lied.

"Absolutely," he answered.

"That sounds fantastic. Really. Do you want to share a washing machine?"

As she spoke Anne decided her vacation was starting to look up. She was very glad the building's management hadn't made it easy to find the laundry room. That was the best thing that had happened to her in Florida so far.


[I promise I won't leave this hanging very long. I want to finish it as much as anyone wants to read it.]