Locker Room Confessions

There’s one of us in every locker room you know.

I remember when I was a teen, just starting to blossom, and how shy I used to be changing in public locker rooms. I would change in the bathroom stalls, at the end of a row of lockers, or even INSIDE a locker itself. I remember a friend of mine getting so disgusted with the lengths I went through to preserve my privacy that she said, "Come on, we’re all girls here and nobody’s looking!"

Oh no?

I knew better. I knew I couldn’t be the only one. I was fully aware that I was a pervert, and I struggled between common public sense of propriety and my own sense of arousal looking at other naked bodies.

Sure, most people can’t resist a peek for comparisons. Most however, don’t scour a locker room for the best seats. I don’t care what you look like. I appreciate beauty in all it’s forms. I’ve long since lost my inhibitions and come to accept my guilty little habit. The fact it is indecent turns me on, really. To avoid sounding like the hypocrite, I’m not shy anymore about giving perhaps another of us a nice peek at my double D’s...but you won’t see me, usually. I’m not the type anybody suspects. A 24 year old GIRL getting her jollys as a Peeping Thomasina?

Does that idea turn you on?

The gym I go to three times a week...well, it’s a voyeur’s dream. From the open showers, to the twisty maze of lockers, to the full length mirrors hung absolutely everywhere so you can see anybody at anytime. One of those mirrors, the one that’s at the very end of the room where it splits between the lockers and the shower area, has always been hung slightly wrong. It allows someone a grand view of the first three shower heads closest to the entry. It also allows a person to sit at the very end of the final row and view this mirror; without anybody in the showers being able to see who’s down there watching.

Today, I’m in the pool. I love the water. I love feeling the water flow over every inch of my body, and I love watching water flowing over the bodies of lovely men and women. It’s also my favorite area for people watching. Sometimes if I’m lucky, some cute little teen’s bikini top will come loose under the water and she’ll flush an enticing shade of red as she desperately tries to re-tie it without drawing too much attention.

There seems to be an abundance of young subjects around this afternoon. I’ve been swimming for a couple of hours now. Watching that one guy adjust his package in his speedos was nice for a start. Another guy obviously made a mistake picking white briefs, which when wet showed clearly the outline of what was underneath. Not bad at all. At the moment, however, I’m lounging at one end of the pool. I appear as though I’m looking out the side windows, but really, I’m watching a reflection in them.

My god, those tits have to be in E sizes.

She’s a bit older than I am. A bit on the heavy side as well, with long blond hair trapped back in a ponytail. Not a tanned and perfect body, and it’s obvious she feels a little self conscious about running around in that tight, hot pink bathing suit. A pity really. I know the type. She doesn’t fit the mold, has been told so often, carries the stigma with her in her heart, but really a person truly beautiful and sexy in her own way.

Dear god, those breasts. Mmmmm.

She’s sitting on the bench by the pool, talking to what seems to be a male friend. I casually swim over to where she is to get a better look, and I catch the tail end of a conversation.

"I’m going to head up in a few and shower." She says.

"Ok, I’ll meet you later," replies her friend.

Ooooo, my lucky day! I suddenly feel the need to vacate the pool area. I move away quietly, then hit the ladder and head upstairs before she does. I shower quickly, and head back to the end of the row to dress and wait.

The locker room is completely empty. Everyone is still down at the pool. Sure enough, a few minutes later, she comes up and takes one of the shower heads closest to the entryway. I’m not sure why people are drawn to those particular shower heads. They seem to be the most popular. But I don’t care that much to question it. Just enjoy it. She’s reflected perfectly in the mirror. Yes, this was definitely my lucky day.

She does the preliminary self-conscious check around. She has no idea I’m there. I’m quiet as a mouse, curled up on the bench and leaning against my favorite back locker. Satisfied, she goes to the shower head and fiddles with the knobs, turning the shower onto a steamy spray. Then she starts to peel off that tight suit.

Oh…oh. Lovely lady, those tits are even more amazing than I had imagined. Damn indecent exposure laws, those should not be covered up for any reason! They are huge and heavy, with large, rosy pink areolas and stiff, perfect pink nipples. They jiggle most delightfully as she strips. She bends to slid the wet suit down her legs and they hang full and heavy, glistening as the water streams over them. I have to bite my lip when she straightens up and I can see her pretty mound covered in light colored curls, and shaved at the bikini line and between her legs.

She turns and releases her long, wet, golden blonde hair from it’s holder, giving me a clear shot at her round ass. Her skin is creamy white and flawless except for a few freckles.

Oh, OH! Turn around, let me see your pussy again. I beg in my mind.

She does. She raises her hands (and subsequently her chest) and starts lathering her hair with shampoo. I can’t stop staring at those breasts, poking in and out of the stream as she moves. The water and lather flow over them and drip off her erect nipples. I run my tongue over my teeth.

She shakes her hair out under the spray, causing all the rest of her soft curves to shake as well. She’s standing with her legs slightly spread, giving a lovely view of her bare pussy.

God, it’s hot in here. I look around the room myself. I don’t usually do this, I wait until I get home, but I just can’t help putting my hand to the front of my jeans and giving my own pussy a soothing rub.

She continues to wash, absently. Going about the chore of spreading the liquid soap over her shoulders, under her arms; running her hands over her stomach. She smooths her hands over those big tits, and to my surprise and delight, gives the nipples a light squeeze. She stops suddenly, and blinks. Her head turns back and forth as if she’s just become re-aware of her surroundings. The look on her face seems to be considering something.

Oh baby, are you thinking what I’m thinking? Oh please, oh please, oh please, please, please...

Her tongue darts out over her lips. She’s still holding her breasts in her hand and she tosses a heavy strand of wet hair over her shoulders. Then she gives a long, slow, languid pull on those pretty pink nipples. I making a small choking noise and practically have to strangle myself to keep quiet. She looks around nervously again.

Ohhhh don’t stop! Yesssss. That’s it. Keep going, there’s nobody here that would have a problem with you doing that. Not at all.

Lifting, kneading; pushing them together gently…They are so large and slippery now she has a hard time keeping them in hand. Screw it, I’m not waiting until I get home! If anybody comes in, I’ll know long before they do. I’m praying that doesn’t happen and we get interrupted as I worm my fingers into my panties and press them against my aching clit.

She pinches the nipples rhythmically, swirling her fingers around them, and pushing them back and forth with her thumbs. After a minute, she releases one tit and lifts the other to suck into her mouth.

I’m in heaven. I keep my mouth open so my breathing is soft but heavy and my fingers are getting slick as they dip in and out of my hole.

She closes her eyes in bliss as she sucks, her free hand traveling down her belly to between her legs. She spreads those swollen lips apart. Damn, I wish I could have a closer look, but I have to settle for squinting at the reflection a bit. I’m having a hard time keeping still on the bench.

In and out, in and out, as she fingers herself. My hand falls into the same rhythm. There is a low shelf that sticks out behind her. It’s not really for sitting on, but she tries anyway. She spends a minute adjusting the nozzle of the shower head so it keeps streaming down on her so she’ll be warm. Then she sits, leans back, and spreads her legs.

I’m biting my lip. I can feel tears coming out the sides of my eyes from the desire I’m feeling. My pussy throbs hard at the sight. Oh honey, are you pulsing as hard as I am? That’s it, keep stroking your sweet pussy. Come for me baby, you’re so beautiful.

She tosses her head from side to side; the water in her hair spraying off in droplets. Her face is scrunched in ecstasy as she furiously rubs her clit. Those soft lips part in a silent moan and she convulses.

I swear, there is nothing lovelier than watching a person, man or woman, enjoying their orgasm. I’m clutching the bench in a deathgrip with one hand while the other is rubbing my sex to the point of no return. Trying to stifle my desire when it’s this intense is painful, and oh god, I can’t take it any longer. I gasp and cum hard, writhing my hips and riding my fingers to completion. I slump against the lockers as I watch the lady in the shower shiver and move her fingers from her dripping pussy. I draw long, shuddering breaths into my air starved lungs.

Was it as good for you as it was for me?

No time for afterglow though. She gets up so suddenly and shuts off the shower, that I’m startled. How can she move so fast after that?! She grabs a towel and wraps it around her, and my hand is out of my panties and I barely manage to lean over my gym bag as she comes in. She’s startled to see me when she walks out. She had thought she was alone and I can tell by the look on her face that she’s frantically wondering if I saw.

I look up and give her a friendly, unassuming smile; hoping she doesn’t notice my flushed cheeks as I pretend to root through my bag. She smiles back and walks off, reassured that nah, her little shower sexcapade wasn’t seen.

Oh no?

Pervert? Oh yes, I am...but probably no more than you are, baby.

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