I stayed late folding laundry with my wife's coworker

I never thought folding laundry could turn into the highlight of my week. But there I was, past midnight in the empty laundromat on the edge of town, the kind of place that smells like cheap detergent and forgotten socks. My wife, Lena, worked the evening shift at the hospital with her buddy Priya, and they'd dragged me along earlier to help with a massive load from some linen service screw-up. Lena had bailed hours ago—said she was beat and needed her beauty sleep. Priya stayed. And now it was just us, the dryers humming like distant thunder, stacking sheets and towels under the flickering fluorescent lights.

Priya's got this effortless hotness that sneaks up on you. Mid-thirties, Indian heritage, curves that her scrubs couldn't hide even if she tried. Dark hair usually in a ponytail, but tonight it was loose, falling over her shoulders as she bent to pull a warm load from the machine. We'd chatted before at barbecues, nothing flirty. She's married too, some accountant guy. But alone like this, with the world shut out, things felt charged. I'd caught her glancing at me a couple times while Lena was around, that half-smile like she knew something I didn't.

"God, these never end," she said, dumping a pile of folded pillowcases onto the table between us. Her voice had that lilt, a little accent from growing up in Mumbai before her family moved here. She stretched, arching her back, and her shirt rode up just enough to show a sliver of smooth brown skin above her jeans.

"Yeah, feels like we're in laundry purgatory." I laughed, folding a sheet wrong on purpose to make her smirk. My hands were warm from the fabrics, and the air was thick, humid from all the steam. The laundromat was dead—no one else around, doors locked after closing time. Public, sure, but private enough that the thrill buzzed under my skin.

She bumped my hip with hers while reaching for a towel. Playful. Accidental? Nah. "You're not bad at this, for a guy. Most husbands bolt at the sight of a hamper."

"Lena's lucky I stick around." I said it light, but my eyes dipped to her ass as she turned away. Fuck, it was round, perfect in those tight jeans. Cheating crossed my mind like a dirty secret, but it wasn't full-on yet. Just tension. The good kind.

We kept at it, folding side by side, shoulders brushing more than they needed to. She talked about work—how Lena was always bragging about our sex life, the little details that made my face heat up. "She says you're... attentive," Priya teased, her eyes locking on mine. Dark, mischievous.

"Attentive, huh?" I grinned, holding her gaze a beat too long. My cock twitched in my pants. The dryers kicked off one by one, leaving the place quieter, just the buzz of the lights and our breathing.

Priya leaned against the table, folding slower now. "You know, I get why she keeps you around." Her hand brushed mine under the stack of sheets. Electric. She didn't pull away.

I felt it then—the pull. No more small talk. I stepped closer, our thighs touching. "Priya..."

"Shh." She tilted her head, lips parting. Close enough to smell her—vanilla lotion mixed with fresh laundry scent. Her fingers trailed up my arm, light as a whisper. "Lena's out cold by now. No one's here."

That was it. Consent hung in the air, mutual, hungry. I cupped her face, kissed her hard. She tasted like mint gum and want. Her tongue met mine, aggressive, nails digging into my shirt. We broke apart gasping, but her hand was already sliding down my chest, over my belt.

"Fuck, I've wanted this," she murmured, eyes wild. Public spot, door locked or not, anyone could walk by the windows. Risk made it hotter.

She pushed me back against the folding table, the edge digging into my ass. Jeans tight, but she yanked my zipper down like she owned it. My cock sprang free—hard as hell, pre-cum beading at the tip. She licked her lips, dropping to her knees on the gritty tile floor.

"Priya, shit—" But she was on me, hand wrapping around the base, stroking firm. Her mouth hovered, breath hot against the head.

"You stayed late for a reason." She looked up, smirking, then swallowed me down.

Holy fuck. Wet heat enveloped me, her tongue swirling under the ridge. She bobbed slow at first, lips stretching around my girth, taking half before pulling back with a pop. Saliva trailed from her mouth to my shaft, shiny in the harsh light. I groaned, hand in her hair—not forcing, just holding on.

She worked me like a pro. Sucking deeper now, cheeks hollowing, one hand pumping what she couldn't fit. Gagging a little when she pushed too far, but she didn't stop. Sounds filthy—wet slurps echoing off the washers, her hums vibrating straight to my balls. Smelled like sex now, musky under the detergent haze.

I glanced at the windows. Streetlights outside, empty parking lot. Still public. Adrenaline spiked my pulse. "Goddamn, your mouth..."

She pulled off, grinning up slick-lipped. "Tastes better than I imagined. Lena wasn't lying." Back down, faster rhythm. Her free hand cupped my sack, rolling gently, thumb pressing that spot behind.

Tension built quick. Too quick. Her head twisted side to side, tongue lashing the underside. I thrust shallow into her face, hips bucking. She moaned around me, eyes watering but locked on mine—daring me.

"Fuck, Priya, I'm close—"

She nodded, didn't stop. Sucked harder, hand twisting on the upstroke. Balls tightened. One last deep throat, nose to my pubes, and I lost it.

Cum exploded in thick ropes, flooding her mouth. She swallowed most, gulping noisy, but some leaked out the corner of her lips, dripping down her chin onto her shirt. Pulled back slow, milking every drop, tongue flicking the slit.

I sagged against the table, chest heaving. She stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking like the devil.

But then my phone buzzed on the table. Lena's name lit the screen.

Priya saw it too. She grabbed a towel, wiped her chin clean, and whispered, "Answer it."

I did, voice shaky. "Hey babe."

"Where the hell are you? Laundry's done, right?"

Priya's hand slid over mine while I held the phone, her eyes gleaming. She mouthed, "Tell her."

"Yeah, just finishing up. Be home soon."

Lena yawned. "Hurry. Priya's probably bored without me. Don't keep her waiting."

Priya bit her lip to stifle a laugh, her fingers tracing my spent cock back to life.

I hung up, heart slamming.

She kissed me quick, tasting of me. "Our little secret."

We folded the last load fast, like nothing happened. But as we walked out to our cars, her ass swaying, she glanced back.

That single devastating line hit when I got home to Lena's text: "Priya just messaged me. Said you were amazing help tonight. Can't wait to thank you properly."