Stepsister Stuck In Washing Machine Novels & Stories

“Look here, Valeria, first of all, I'm not like you guys who want to sleep with the bosses to become mistress of the house. Second, I am still a virgin and intend to lose my virginity to someone I love. So stop spouting your venom on me because I'm not in the mood for snakes on my foot. Now, excuse me. I leave them talking to themselves and walk to the service area. I take Mr. Thomas's dirty clothes and put them piece by piece into the machine. Then I press the button to fill the machine and add three bars of soap, close the lid and leave the service area. The good thing about the washing machine is that, while filling it, it does everything else by itself, I don't even have to wait.

I refrained from saying what was at the tip of my tongue. I vaguely wondered if they didn't have any washing machine in a house this big and fancy. I reluctantly went out to the tap just like he had instructed and a maid brought a bucket to me as sent by Maya's dad. I tore open the mouth of the detergent and downed some contents into the washing basin before turning the tap open and turning it back off when I had gotten enough amount for soaking the clothes. I soaked and waited on the bench for some minutes before I started watching and scrubbing every part of the shirt. When I had gotten to the point where I had to scrub off the stain of the the drink, I focused my attention and gave it my

Jake stood frozen in the doorway of the laundry room, his heart slamming against his ribs. He had only come downstairs for a clean shirt, but what he found instead shattered every boundary he thought existed. His stepmother, Vanessa, was perched on the edge of the running washing machine, legs spread wide. Her robe hung open, one hand furiously rubbing her swollen clit while two fingers of the other plunged deep inside her dripping pussy. Her full, heavy breasts bounced with every desperate movement, nipples hard and begging for attention. Her head was thrown back, soft moans escaping her parted lips.

Every time I bent over, I felt one breeze away from flashing the whole staff. Just great. A few minutes later, Miss Pen came back in—holding yet another basket. I nearly collapsed. “This is the last one,” she said, setting it down with a thud. “These clothes need to be hand-washed. No machine. Make sure you don’t stretch or ruin the fabric.” I forced a smile and nodded, but as soon as she left, I groaned loudly and yanked the basket toward me. At that point, I didn’t care. I was tired, sweaty, annoyed, and over it. I grabbed a handful of his clothes and shoved them straight into the washing machine—ignoring her warning completely.

If I didn’t deal with it right away, the stain would set. I grabbed the laundry basket and headed downstairs to the basement. I loaded in the fabric quickly, pouring in detergent, then reached for the cap—only for it to slip from my fingers and clatter to the floor, rolling under the machine. “Perfect,” I sighed, dropping to my hands and knees to fish it out. That’s when a voice—low, deep, and familiar—rolled through my head, smooth as velvet. ‘I could get used to a sight like this whenever I come home.’

He bent me over the washing machine and took me right there, hard and fast, my moans muffled against my arm. The thrill of knowing we won’t get caught by anyone walking by made me cum twice before he filled me up. We started meeting like that all over the house. Quickies here and there. No more masturbating at the thought of my step father when I can easily have him, anytime and anywhere. The pantry. The guest bathroom. His office even when he is supposed to be on a work call. I’d crawl under the desk and suck him off while he tried to sound normal on the phone.

I'll never be her's and she'll never be mine. "Amber, as bad as I actually want you… it can never happen." I sigh. "What do you mean?" She questions, sounding confused as she breaks free from my grasp. "You're my step-sister." I say, stating the obvious reason. "And?" She says, her voice cracking in the process. "We can fuck. But we can't be anything serious, it wouldn't look right." I say, looking down at her as I study her reaction.

After a few minutes of focused work, I heard the washer chime, indicating it was time to transfer the clothes to the dryer. The stackable washer and dryer were always a bit too high for me to reach comfortably, but I usually tossed the clothes in and called Kyle if I needed help getting the rest out. Returning to the table, I put my glasses back on, pulled my hair back, and resumed working. "How's it going?" Chase's question pulled me from my thoughts, and I shrugged. "So far, so good, but I haven't made much progress yet," I admitted, acknowledging that I had only read the introductory section.

They treated us so badly it was so hard to not get into trouble with these people. I shook my head and picked the detergent that fell on the ground. "Please I have a lot of work to do. Nice to meet you Mr Kehinde." I said and went around him to the washing machine where I was loading clothes. I had three baskets to wash in three different machines. I didn't need this distraction.

As I leaned in to drop in the last piece of clothing, my foot slipped, and before I knew it, I was stuck, half my body inside the machine. Panic set in as I struggled to pull myself out, but I was wedged in tight. I cried out for help, but my attempts proved futile. I yelled and screamed, but no one came. Just as I was starting to lose hope, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Derek. He must've heard my cries for help, and came running to see what was going on. I had no idea he was still home. Derek found me on my knees, half my body inside the washing machine, my butt stuck outside.