Dorm Shower

Thinking back to last fall and the near disaster we almost encountered, Jamie and I worked out in advance what we were planning to do with our summers. We had long since decided not to be 'possessive' about each other when we had to be apart. Jamie had a co-op research job waiting for her down south, and I was going home to work with a friend of my father's, his company needed someone with mechanical drawing skills. So we knew, as March came around, that we wouldn't have much longer together. We were determined to make the most of it.

It wasn't going to be quite what we expected, though. I came in from the rain looking like a wet bear. I'm a medium sized guy, 5'11' and about 180lbs, but what really made the image work was my shaggy brown hair and the beard that hadn't quite grown in yet. The beard had been a major source of friction between us in more ways than one, but Jamie was being pretty good humored about it so far. I went back to my room, stripped to the waist, and dried myself off. When it hangs straight, my hair goes right down to my shoulder blades. That's never an issue, though, because my hair could no more hang straight than I could flap my arms and fly. Straight or rumpled, though, it holds a lot of water. A few minutes later, feeling much drier, but now looking like a bare-chested caveman, I strolled down the hallway to the washroom, to get combed and presentable again.

In the hallway was Tina Brauer. She was dating Shawn (Woody) Woods, the guy who lived across the hall from me. She went to an all-women's college about 20 miles away, and she often stayed with him on weekends. She was wearing her bathrobe, and walking towards the bathroom just ahead of me. She had long brown hair and nice, slender legs. The bathroom was shaped like a hallway. Facing me, there was a giant mirror covering one wall from hip level, up to a height of about 7 feet. It had a row of sinks in front of it, and the shower stalls were on the opposite wall. Tina went into one of the shower stalls, and pulled the plastic curtain closed. Nonchalantly, I selected the sink almost directly opposite her shower stall, so I could watch the mirror for any interesting action. I didn't know why I did stuff like that. If she were to throw the curtain open, and expose her entire naked body, I'd probably hide my eyes, and scream for her to cover herself. But for some reason, I was hoping for a glimpse of a bare thigh, it would turn me on with its silky shine. Inside the stall, I heard her slide out of her bathrobe, and I saw a slender arm reach up to hang it on a hook in the stall's changing area. Then there was the sound of another sliding plastic curtain, and the water started.

Meanwhile, I trimmed my beard with a pair of tiny scissors I had bought for that purpose. I knew that if I was going to see anything interesting at all, it wouldn't be until she came back out of the inner cubicle. Sometimes women left the curtains open a little. I wondered if they didn't know about the mirror trick, and were just taunting us.

Suddenly I heard a wet thump in the shower stall, and then a loud and repeated coughing, choking noise. I put down my scissors.

"Tina?" I asked, in a mid-tone between 'concerned' and 'no-I'm-not-being-nosy.' Then there was a fairly loud noise, like someone vomiting.

"Tina?!" I called, much louder and less-worried-about-being-nosy. There were more choking sounds and a wet thrashing on the floor of the stall. Ok, so this is where normal, socially polite behaviors get dropped, you can't hesitate about saving a drowning victim because he's skinny dipping, and you want to respect his privacy. I ran into the shower stall, on fire with 'rescue fever.' I tore open the inner curtain to see what was happening, and... there was Tina.

Well, of course there was Tina. I knew that before I went crashing into the stall. The trouble was, she didn't really look all that distressed or anything.In fact, she was kneeling on the floor of the stall, with her legs tucked under her, swishing her hands and thumping the floor to simulate the thrashing sounds I had heard. And she was grinning at me.

"Well," she said, "this is what you wanted to see, right?"

Oh shit.I made a little choking sound of my own then, as I tried to make up about 5 different lies at once, but couldn't choose one quickly enough.

"What are you doing?" I managed to get out at last, "Are you crazy?"

She looked like a water nymph there, with her brown hair soaked and laying on her shoulders, and small drops of water running down her olive skin.

"I was just playing a little joke on you 'Mr. Peeping Tom'." That grin still didn't quit. One of us obviously thought this situation was amusing.

"I can't...I just...I..." that was about as coherent as I was going to get, apparently. I'm sometimes fluent when I'm angry, but never when I'm embarrassed.

She said, "Oh, don't take it so hard," and smiled shyly. I wish she hadn't used the word 'hard'. Her flat little breasts, and tight brown nipples, were starting to get me 'interested' in an altogether unacceptable manner. She held her hand out to me, "Help me up?"

Despite the unlikeliness of her needing any assistance, I took her hand and helped her to feet. Even though the shower stall was built down about three inches from the changing area where I stood, she still came almost up to my nose. The steaming water was still pouring onto her, and she brushed her wet hair back behind her ears. Then she tilted her head up towards me, eyes closed and lips parted invitingly.

I stepped back. "You've got to be kidding me."

She opened her eyes. "What?"

"What was all this about? Where's Shawn, anyway? Is this some kind of practical joke?" I sound pretty authoritative when I speak like that.

"Shawn's at marching band practice. He won't be back until 8."

"It's raining out! They'll cancel it!"

"Silly. They practice in the dome. What's the matter, don't you like the way I look?" She looked a little downcast.

"Well, of COURSE I like the way you look," I stopped then, because she was looking really amused at having suckered me with the sad look. I was beginning to feel completely outmaneuvered, and a little panicky.

She stepped out of the stall, then, and backed me against the wall, tracing a line down my chest with her fingernail.

"You watch me every time I get in the shower. There must be something you like." She bit her lip. "Something you want."

I swallowed. I was sweating uncomfortably, because I knew exactly what I wanted, and if I got it, it would lead to no end of trouble.

She leaned in towards me, and my back was up against the cold tiled wall. Her small, flat breasts pressed against my bare chest, and I could feel the hard tips of her nipples pressing into my skin. Once again, she tilted her head up towards me, her eyes closed, and her lips slightly parted. This time, I lowered my mouth onto hers. She had a sweet tasting mouth. She was a gentle kisser, she lapped softly at my lips, rather than trying to devour you. But she was thorough, too, and her tongue gently explored every part my mouth. As I kissed her, I fantasized about how exquisite her gentle kissing would be, if she were to kiss me somewhere else.

We made out softly for a long time. She didn't put her arms around my neck like a lot of women do. Instead, she caressed my shoulders and chest, and played with my nipples. I did the same to her. She had wonderful nipples, taut brown circles with hard nubs like little pencil erasers. I rolled them in my fingers, and squeezed her small breasts in my hands.

I took a nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and asked her between kisses, "Do you like pinches?" She breathed the answer into my mouth, so softly that I could barely hear her, "yes..." So I pinched her, maybe a little harder than I normally would have, because she had me so hot with emotion.

She moaned into my mouth as we made out, and her face winced with pain, but she pressed herself harder against me, and began to rub her thigh against mine. I was drenched, and furiously, passionately aroused by then. The shower was still thundering in the background, filling the changing stall with steam, and our bodies were lobster red and sweating. She licked the beads of sweat from my chest, and my stomach, and then worked her way slowly downwards, until she was kneeling in front of me, her face towards the waist button of my jeans.

She undid the button and the zipper with her slender fingers, and pulled my jeans down to my thighs. Then she pulled the waistband of my undershorts down, and exposed me. She put a fingertip on the head of my cock, and swept up a bit of the clear fluid that was squeezing out of the tip. She put her finger in her mouth and tasted it. "It's sweeter than Shawn's," she said. I wish she hadn't said that.

It pained me to look down at her, but I did. And she was beautiful and almost innocent looking, which I already knew. She said, "You're sweeter than Shawn." Oh, kill me. Just stick a knife in me, and leave me for dead. I should never be around women, I don't have the guts for it.

She kissed me then, on the stomach. Then she kissed me right where my brain was begging her to kiss me, and my breath caught in my lungs. I made a small, agonized sound in my throat as her wet, gentle lips caressed me. She licked and lapped at me in small motions - starting at the head, and caressing her way slowly, warmly, gently downwards. I thought I was going to die. She kissed me and sucked me, softly. She licked and nibbled, yet more softly. I whimpered like a hurt animal. Then she began to engulf me, inch by softly agonizing inch.

I was getting weak in the knees by this time, if I hadn't been leaning against a wall, I probably would have fallen down. My legs trembled and I gritted my teeth in desperate concentration. Then she began to bob her head. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I could feel a lava heat rising fast through my loins. I had to stop her, then, so I wouldn't come in her mouth.

"Tina," I gasped, "Stop it. Stop! I'm gonna come." She put her hands on my thighs, then, and began to bob her head and suck me hard. I breathed in sharply, and then lost it. Oh boy, did I lose it. I shot out my seed so hard that it hurt me. I blasted 4, 5, maybe 6 times... My loins kept on contracting violently, and she kept on sucking me, and milking me with her hands, until long after I had run dry.

The inside of my cock burned from the force of my ejaculations. I slumped down to the floor, then, my legs no longer able to hold me up. I ended up sitting on the floor with my back to the wall. She crawled up against me, and tucked herself under my arm.

"How do you feel?" she asked, running her hands through my hair, where it fell on my shoulders. I looked at her as if I'd been sentenced to be shot at dawn. She kissed my shoulder. "Oh, it can't be that bad, can it?" she asked. "I've always liked you, Bob."

I closed my eyes, and tried to think of something to say. My head was still swimming, and I couldn't seem to line up even half of a coherent thought. I just kept seeing visions of Jamie. I shook my head, but that thought wouldn't go away. I kept seeing Jamie telling me not to come back. Not to call her. Not to see her. Ever. I started to shake. Tina put her arms around my neck. Even though she might be the key to the unraveling of my whole life, I needed somebody to hold onto at that moment so I pulled her against me and squeezed her hard. I held on to her, and listened as the water ran down the drain.