Assorted breasts and pussies were hanging from a clothesline in a backyard, swaying gently in a light breeze. On another line, several female buttocks were swaying in the same gentle breeze, waiting to dry. Q was finished with his portion of the day’s work, so he went outside, sat down in one of the easy chairs, and admired his display on the clotheslines. His wife, Q, was still in the back attending to her own chores, so he was able to take a few minutes by himself to saturate himself with the beautiful display.

It was a very pleasant, sunny, and warm afternoon in late spring, ideal for drying things outside, ideal for just sitting there after a morning’s work and enjoy the view.

Q loved breasts. He loved washing them, soaping them, lathering them, caressing them with his hands, soaping and stroking the nipples, making sure they were all clean and fresh. He loved pussies. He loved taking them into his hands, rubbing soap all over them, working the soap into a lather so he could reach between their lips into all the nooks and crannies, inside their soft openings, rub their clits with his fingers, cleansing them as thoroughly as he possibly could. He loved buttocks. He loved the feel of buttocks in his hands when they were lathered up with fragrant soap, feeling round and soft and smooth, and he rubbed them clean with his expert hands.

Inside the establishment, several attendants were looking after the customers’ needs and desires. Some of the women were having their hair done while they waited for the completion of the drying process outside, some had manicures and pedicures done, some had their bushes trimmed or shaved, some were just sitting around, everybody chatting with everybody. Some of the men had their hair cut, a couple of them had their nails done, the others were sitting at a table in the corner playing cards and talking about sports and bars and barbecues and cars.

“It feels so good,” one of the women was saying, “to have my breasts washed like this. Q is so good with his hands, he makes me feel good all over.”

“My pussy always tingles,” another one said, “when he holds it in his hands and rubs the soap all over it.”

“Especially when he washes the inside,” another one added. “I like that the best. He really is good at what he is doing.”

The men weren’t saying anything like that, even though their penises tended to get quite big and hard when Q picked them up and rubbed them and stroked them with her soapy hands. But they were men, and they didn’t talk about things like that. They were much too busy talking about sports and bars and barbecues and cars. Besides, being men, they simply didn’t talk about things like that.

Q and Q had worked out a very efficient and successful routine in the back of their establishment. Q always started with the washing of the breasts in the designated sink. He took great care with them, making sure that they were treated properly and cleansed until they practically sparkled. To be fair to his female customers, he fondled every pair with the same attention to detail, rubbing the nipples, massaging the soap into their luscious lines and contours, handling them carefully and diligently so as not to bruise them with his eager hands.

They could hear the women talking among themselves out in the front room.

“Wow!” one of them said. “That felt really good. Q was just washing my breasts and I feel hot all over!”

“Just wait until he gets to your pussy,” another one said. “That’ll really send you flying.”

“Can’t wait,” the first woman said.

“I love it when he does my pussy,” another one said. “He’s so gentle and tender and his fingers reach into every crevice, and then when he puts his finger inside … oh, wow! Sometime I can hardly stand it, he’s so good.”

When Q finished washing the breasts, he placed them in the rinsing sink and rinsed them with pleasantly warm water until all the soap had been washed off. Then he piled them into the basket in which he would eventually carry everything outside to the clothesline. Then he emptied the washing sink and filled it with fresh water. He put the pussies into the washing sink, soaped and lathered them thoroughly and lovingly, then put them into the rinsing sink and let the warm water run over them until they were completely clean. Then he piled them into the basket on top of the breasts.

“Did you feel that?” one of the women asked. “He was soaping my pussy with such incredible strokes I thought for sure I was going to have an orgasm right there and then.”

“So did I,” another one concurred. “It’s just the best feeling I’ve ever had.”

After he finished with the pussies, Q changed the water again, reached for the buttocks and placed them in the washing sink. He loved the smooth roundness of the buttocks and washed them with the same care and attention as he washed the breasts and the pussies. After they had been all cleaned, he rinsed them off and piled them into the basket as well.

“That felt pretty good, too,” one of the women said. “I wish my husband would pay more attention to my ass.”

“So do I,” another one concurred. “Believe me, so do I.”

“I felt really hot when he did mine,” one of them said, not wanting to be left out. “I could do with this every day!”

As soon as Q finished washing the buttocks, Q changed the water for him and put all the penises into the washing sink. She took the soap into her hands, picked the penises up one by one, and began washing them. She loved penises. She loved holding them in her soapy hands, feeling them getting big and hard, pulled their foreskins back where necessary, cleaned their heads carefully and tenderly, rubbed and stroked the shafts with more soap until she felt they were all perfectly clean.

Q had finished the buttocks by then and was carrying the basket outside to the clothesline, so she moved the penises from the washing sink into the rinsing sink, let the warm water run over them until all the soap had washed off, and piled them into her own basked to carry them outside when she was all done.

Next she changed the wash water again, picked up all the balls, and put them lovingly into the fresh water. She loved balls. She soaped her hands and lathered the balls with loving care, being careful not to squeeze them too much yet enough to give their owners a nice little jolt. When they had been all washed and cleaned, she rinsed them off and piled them into the basket on top of the penises.

She changed the water again and reached for the buttocks. She loved buttocks. They felt round and substantial in her hands as she rubbed soap all over them, squeezed them and rubbed them diligently and with great pleasure until they were completely clean as well. She rinsed them under the warm water and piled them into the basket to carry them outside together with all the penises and balls to be strung up on the clothesline.

Q was still sitting in his easy chair when she came outside with her own basket. He smiled at her, and she smiled back at him, both of them pleased with the excellent job they had done. Q took her basket underneath the clothesline and started to hang up the buttocks in a neat row.

Q didn’t move from his chair. They always looked after their own baskets, because that’s how they had divided their chores, and neither of them ever attempted to change their well-oiled routine. After she hung up the buttocks, Q reached for the balls, one pair at a time, and hung them up, then picked up the penises and hung them on the clothesline next to the balls.

It was a beautiful display, all the breasts and pussies on one line, then the two kinds of buttocks on the second, and all the penises and balls on the third. Q sat down beside her husband and they both looked at their morning’s work with great pride and satisfaction until the breasts and the pussies and the female buttocks were completely dry and ready to be taken inside.

Q took them all off the line, piled them into his basket, and carried them inside. The women came up to the basket and picked out their respective items, put them on, and headed for the back to get dressed.

“Ohhh,” one of the women moaned. “This feels so good! My breasts are still warm from the sun, and they feel so smooth and silky I can hardly believe they are mine.”

“They do look beautiful,” another woman said. “You should be proud of them.”

“I always think my breasts are too small,” another one piped up. “But now they feel so good and fresh I really don’t mind.”

“I know what you mean,” one of the women said. “I always feel that mine are too big, but after coming here and having them treated like that, they feel just right.”

“And so they should,” another one said. “You have beautiful breasts and they look all silky from the washing and drying.”

“My pussy is tingling from the sun,” one woman confessed. “It feels so good, now that it’s all washed and cleaned.

“Mine feels just great between my legs,” another one said. “Q is really the best. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“My buttocks are all soft and silky,” one woman added her own impression. “I wish I could keep them like this all the time.”

And on they went, telling each other in detail how good everything felt and how glad they were that they had discovered Q and Q and were able to come here whenever they wanted a special treat.

When they were all dressed again, they filed past the counter, paid their bills, and made their way outside. Q had gone behind the counter when he saw them emerging from the back and he shook hands with everyone of them, told them how much he enjoyed having them there – and enjoy it he most certainly did – and invited them to come back anytime they felt like another cleansing of their items.

Some time after the women had left, the penises and the balls and the remaining buttocks had finished drying in the sun, so Q took them all off the line, piled them back into the basket, and carried them inside. The men stopped talking about sports and bars and barbecues and cars long enough to pick out their various items, put them back on, and make their way into the back to get dressed. Then they resumed their discussions and put on their clothes.

None of them said a word about the experience, but then, when they filed past the counter to pay their bills, Q noted that their tips were most generous and quite unexpected. They must have enjoyed themselves as well, he thought, but, being men, they just didn’t say anything.

With everybody out of the establishment, the attendants cleaned up their workstations. When they were done, two cleaning women came in through the back to give the whole establishment a thorough cleaning and get it ready for the next weekend.

There was nothing else to be done for Q and Q, so they went back outside, made themselves comfortable in their easy chairs, and spent some well-deserved time relaxing with each other and recuperating from their chores and their busy day.

They had spent another successful Saturday and they were very pleased with themselves and proud of themselves that they had such a wonderful establishment that was bringing them so much pleasure and joy.

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