Head underground

You step quickly into the door leading to the basement, reasoning that while you hardly ever run into someone doing their laundry, you are constantly passing people entering and exiting from the above-ground parking lot. As you sneak down the stairs, and round a turn at the half-flight, you hear the door opening up again behind you. The people from the hallway are following you downstairs! You panic, and rush down the remaining half flight, open the door quickly, and dart down the hallway. You enter the first door you come to, and quickly close it again behind you. You are slightly comforted by the fact that the people coming down the stairs couldn't see you due to the turn in the stairwell, but your heart is still pounding well over a hundred times a minute.

You quickly come to realize that you are in your laundry room. You flip on the lights, and see that you are alone in it, thankfully, and you listen carefully as the people walk past your doorway and down the hall -- towards the underground parking, no doubt. You breathe a sigh of relief, then realize that you are shaking. As you take deep breaths to regain control over yourself, you realize that the shaking is caused as much by your arousal as by your fear and relief. You are dripping between the legs, and let one of your hands fall to your labia and begin to rub into them. Your fingers are like fire, and the excitement of being nude and **** to being caught quickly drive you to a heaving, moaning mess. An idea enters your head, and you hop up on to one of the running laundry machines, arching your back to ensure full contact. This leaves your hands free to tweak your nipples, and you are over the edge before you know it, writhing in pleasure and in the konwledge that someone could walk in the

door at any moment.

No one does, however. You slide off the machine, leaving a long wet smear. You feel excellent, and alive, and hungry for more.