Timestopper Begins Ch. 05

Chapter 5 - Getting bad - the girls' changing room

Back home I sat on my bed. What had I done? What had I done? I had gone next door and actually fucked my neighbour in her bed, next to her husband right after they had done the deed themselves. I had gone way beyond where I had been before, I had gone to quite another level of badness. Temporal Man of Power would have been ashamed of me.

It was a long time later that I fell asleep only to wake to the sound of my alarm and a raging, as the phrase goes, hard-on. It was not just the need to pee because right there in my mind was a picture of Cindy without clothes and very clearly ready for sex. I had been dreaming of her. After last night how could I face her again knowing what I had done: yet at the same time I was thinking, why bother with clothes in future when I go around to help her out with her swollen breasts, so much easier if I am all ready for... indeed why not bring the camera! I was appalled where my thoughts kept leading me.

I dressed in my super hero costume to remind myself of my noble ideals but there was the shape of my erection pressed against the material. It was not keen on 'going down.' I should not have done it with Cindy, I really should not: but it had certainly been good. Cindy had felt just so marvellous.

Standing looking at myself in my costume in the mirror it suddenly came to me - TMP blazoned across my chest was reversed in the mirror as PMT. I groaned, what a jerk.

I was going around almost with 'Pre-Menstrual Tension' written right across my chest - anyone catching sight of Temporal Man of Power in the mirror must be killing himself - or herself - with laughter. What good had I been able to do as a super hero? It was all such a waste of time. The only good thing I had done was help Cindy with her breasts and really the good thing about that had been the sex for me... yes, the only good thing had been the sex... and there could be a lot more of that. I could do all sorts of things and have the most super amusing time of it. It was so much easier thinking up naughty - yes very naughty - things I could do with my TS ability than finding good deeds to do with the power. Perhaps Temporal Man of Power should become Time Stop Man - I saw nothing unfortunate in TSM or MST!

Much easier to enjoy myself. I had tried to be noble and useful but the world seemed to have rejected me - shown I was unwanted. Well, I had tried. I really had.

My thoughts, rather inevitably, homed in on the girls' school across town - particularly the showers and the changing rooms. Where else would a newly empowered sexually active time-stopper head to first? The image of all that fresh young girl flesh wet and hot from the showers and vigorous exercise was unnerving. Not though little girls, or even gently pubescent girls, but real developed girls with all the bits doing the right things in the right places. I wanted the proper things. There was fun to be had there with all those unrestrained breasts, all those soft rounded bottoms, all the variety of furry places to compare, ogle and, yes, touch.

The costume lay scattered about me; there was the true Temporal Man of Power in the mirror - naked and powerfully erect - and with a snap of his fingers time stopped. What an impressive sight in the mirror though, practically, I still needed a pee! I smiled at my reflection and my erect self. Time to go and see if Cindy was ready to provide my breakfast and perhaps a little more - though the girls' school beckoned. There was no need to dress to go and see Cindy, no need at all and I stepped out in my tumescent state into the street shutting the door behind me - Temporal Man of Power had no need for clothes! Look at his power rising in front of him! What an impressive sight.

Of course no one could actually see which was really just as well. It was a very strong erection (for me) but perhaps not the thing to see in the street when you've only just had your breakfast. Moreover there was another more practical reason. It was only when I was half way to Cindy's house that I realised Temporal Man of Power had made a really big mistake: I neither had the keys to her house nor those to my own - the door had locked behind me; I was naked outside, with a raging hard-on and still a desperate need to pee and whilst I was at the moment safe from embarrassment, ridicule and arrest: this would change if I was to start time. I was in real trouble. Bugger!

Luckily Temporal Man of Power keeps his cool; does not panic and thinks carefully through to a solution. First action - water the roses; second action - what on Earth was the second action?

With the hard-on I could actually water the roses over the fence. Up went my stream in the air in an impressive arc from the pavement. I certainly felt more comfortable afterwards.

Cindy's door locked: my door locked. Perhaps I had left a window open - I hadn't. Perhaps Cindy or Carson had left a window open? Luckily I was young and fit enough to climb fences but that is not so easy when you haven't got shoes on and guess what actually gets in the way and catches when you are going over the top of the splintering wooden fence - if you are male. Yes indeed, Temporal Man of Power's now deflated special equipment - less impressive and more an encumbrance now! Lucky no one could see me - it must have been most undignified.

I was fortunate, the back door was unlocked probably from when Cindy had taken the washing out. A relief - I was not stuck out on the streets. Perhaps, now I was there, I would now find yet more relief with my lovely neighbour? She was not downstairs but at the scene of my last night's escapade, better still she was in bed and conveniently already naked so all was set for fun and games except that she was feeding Katy. There they were the two of them: a lovely little maternal scene, which rather put me off.

Nice, but perhaps no immediate breakfast for me and perhaps with the feeding it was not really the time for sex with Cindy and, actually, all those neatly uniformed girls, or rather neat uniforms hanging on pegs and their owners pleasingly naked and nubile for my inspection, did beckon. At first sight getting into Cindy's house did not resolve the how to get back in my house problem though perhaps with a bit of judicious borrowing it could be seen how the associated clothing problem could be solved. There were, I reasoned, actually two alternatives: break a window - tedious to have mended or, as this was not the first time I had locked myself out, go get the spare one I had left with Cindy and Carson some time back which was hanging up in their kitchen. I chose the latter.

Back at home I breakfasted on Cornflakes and rather ordinary - and cold - milk from the 'fridge. Showered and dressed I headed out leaving Cindy for another day. Perhaps Katy had been hungry and Cindy would be comfortable - well it was not as if I had not tried to be obliging...

There was a definite skip in my walk, no longer weighed down with the responsibilities of TMP to help everyone, I was on something of a holiday - I was in search of sex, yes sexual satisfaction, pure and simple. Now to the girls' school.

Standing at the bus stop with a load of young giggling schoolgirls brought home the risk of the proposed visit to the school. I was much more likely to find the morning's PE lessons were for little girls rather than big girls - little girls rather like the ones all around me. The odds at finding a sixth form at physical exercise was actually not good. Not good at all. It occurred to me that, lovely as it would be if I was lucky enough to get to watch a bunch of sixth formers slipping out of blue, maroon or green uniform skirts, I was more likely to be successful in the shower room of the local teacher training college. No uniforms (alas) but certainly no little girls - just big girls eighteen to twenty-two: unless, that is, I went into the male changing room by mistake - that would be a disappointment and a half!

Standing looking over the fence at the college it seemed my plan was, well, going to plan. A girls' hockey game was in progress. Talk about strapping girls! Lovely to watch all those soft but muscular thighs below short skirts, well controlled breasts held securely in tight bras, hair tied back in pony tails and the like; all that running about with the little skirts flapping. A gentle wander into the grounds; sort of in the general direction of the likely changing rooms - as if I had business being there (well, I had actually but not legitimate business). There was nobody in sight as I stepped through the doors, but it was safer to check out the lie of the land with time stopped as it would be difficult to explain what I was doing there if someone was actually in the changing rooms.

Looking out through the half closed door towards the pitch I saw everyone suddenly stop still. Several of the running girls not even touching the ground but suspended motionless in the air. Inside the changing room a scene somewhat of chaos with girls' clothes hanging from hooks - all sorts of underwear, jeans, tee shirts, skirts and so on; sports bags on benches; and through a tiled archway the shower area. Not a series of separate cubicles but a nice open tiled area with lots of shower heads rather helpfully facing a series of lavatory cubicles. Helpful because, whilst I would be able to move freely amongst the girls out of time, if I wished to see movement - and I did - then it just would not do for me to sit quietly on a stool in the corner as very possibly one or more of the girls might object to being so closely observed by a member of the opposite sex! I could hide in a cubicle and peep through a partially open door - I hoped.

All was set, so I went out to have a preliminary look at the girls out of time - all twenty two of them plus the referee. A lot of girls to look at! But that was no bad thing. And of course the temptation with all those shorts skirts to remove panties became very strong. I mean how amusing would it be to see one or two running around without them and catching occasional glimpses of furry bits and buttocks? And their consternation if they noticed as there would be nothing they could do as the game needed to go on: different of course if all the clothes came off. Both teams suddenly naked! It would be unlikely they would carry on: though so much nicer for the spectators (or spectator - there was only me)!

But so much more difficult for them to be running with their breasts unrestrained; the less well endowed at a clear advantage but imagine the erotic sight of the big girls running with their boobs bouncing up and down, even bounding sideways as they cornered. The sight of all those furry mounds as the girls ran across the pitch; one moment thighs close together, next splayed as the girls fought for the ball; and as the girls ran away their rounded buttocks moving - not the hard muscled tight arses of the boys but the more rounded, softer and so much more comfortable buttocks of the girls. Imagine if it was rugby - the scrums with all those naked girl bottoms, imagine the leaping at the line outs...

More likely they would run screaming for the changing room, hands hiding boobs and pubes, all jostling together to get through the door.

I did not overdo it and it was only four pairs of panties I slipped into my pocket before I sauntered back to the changing rooms. Restarting time I came out again and sat watching the game and was duly rewarded with some tantalising glimpses - of course I could just have peeked anyway but it was more fun to be just titillated by the sudden bounce of a skirt and the quick sight of something I was not meant to see. Seeing all would come later, after all! Did the girls notice? Not at first but the surreptitious feel, first by one then another, did indicate they felt something was wrong. Was it a certain coolness around the nether regions, an undefined feeling that something was not right or a pleasant feeling of freedom? I could hardly ask!

The match over, the two teams trooped into their changing rooms - happy, excited rather sweaty girls going past me and into the building. I gave them a few minutes before following them in. Again nobody between the corridor and the changing rooms and so no need to be careful about stopping time. None at all. I stepped into a side room and undressed. It would obviously be more fun walking in on the girls naked and, being practical, if I was to join them in the showers I did not want my clothes to get all wet. Time stopped.

With my hand on the changing room door I paused. Even with time suddenly stopped I felt a little nervous. I was about to walk in on twenty-two girls in various stages of undress with me completely starkers - I knew they would not see me but... I pushed, I entered - wow!

Lots and lots of lovely ladies just as I had supposed - in various stages of undress, some even already standing in the showers. Despite the dramatic entrance of TSM with his staff of power no one remarked upon it, not one of the girls turned and looked at me wide eyed and open mouthed. No one, of course, moved at all. What to do first? Decisions, decisions, decisions!

She was tall, taller than me. I had been watching her, watching her fair pony tail bobbing around as she had played hockey and watching her long legs moving. She had not been one of the pantyless girls out on the field, her panties were not in my pocket, but she did not have panties on now! Unlike the other girls who seemed to start with their shirts and sports bras, she had dropped her skirt and panties first. She was standing, legs akimbo talking to a friend nearby, just reaching to pull her shirt over her head, her lips slightly parted and her eyes wide. Time stop can catch people just like photographs with very odd expressions - but not with her. She looked ever so pretty and sweet. Perhaps she might like to go out with me - I would have liked to go out with her! It was so unlikely though we would ever be an item - would ever kiss in real time - so I took the opportunity, I moved in and brushed my lips to hers in a reasonably chaste kiss.

The kiss may have been 'reasonably' chaste but my other greeting certainly was not! Close up to her the inevitable had happened - inevitable if man with a fine erection comes close up to tall girl with open legs - my naughty seeking knob had unerringly gone straight for her other lips; as my mouth touched hers so did my knob touch her sex. I could feel her, a hint of damp softness and the tickling on my knob of her hairy labia major around that inner softness. Could I? Should I? Had all that running around made her sex damp enough for penetration? So tempting to find out. An easy push and there I was, I don't mean fully inside or anything, but I could feel my knob had slipped in - the whole helmet.

That was all a bit quicker than I had intended. I had only just walked in and here I was technically having intercourse with this lovely tall girl. It would have been nice to have carried on but there were lots more to see and touch. I held for a moment savouring the feeling then withdrew and dropped to my knees to see just what I had felt. I say 'see,' but obviously my fingers touched as well. Fascinating to look, fascinating to see how open her vagina was; I had thought they were all closed up unless a penis or other object was inserted but there she was with a wide open vagina exactly penis sized - in fact exactly my penis size because, I realised, that was the effect of TS; I had stretched her open and she would stay like that until time started again. Perhaps she would feel the closing movement when it did. Tempting to reinsert and slide up the whole way - but there was so much else to see and do. Perhaps later...

So many breasts, and so much variety. Two girls standing talking, both completely naked but for their socks. Just so erotic, there they were inches from each other, a slight movement and their nipples could have touched, their hairy mounds pushed together. For me it was not just the nakedness and the thought of the lesbian potential but those socks. I had not realised it before, but girls dressed in just long woolly socks, nothing else, look fantastic. Let's be honest - so fuckable!

And just how different were their breasts? One quite petite but yet with such big brown areolae - little nips but big saucer like areolae perhaps two and a half inches in diameter: the other girl much fuller bosomed though quite pointed, shape wise, and ending in tiny little pale pink areolae, so small they could have been a man's - if you ignored the fullness of the breasts that is and the rest of her body. Just like the other girl her nipples were small.

Out of time I could not make the nipples stand however much I teased and pulled. Perhaps, though, when time restarted the sensation would remain and they would rise, each girl noticing the other's nipples swelling as they talked. Was it a signal? Should they become friendlier and perhaps, despite boyfriends, spend a different afternoon together? Best if they invited me along to watch, advise and play!

Easy to drop to my knees to inspect their sexes. Both unshaven, the hair allowed to grow free but so different. One with prominent growth, the dark hairs tufting forward obscuring her slit, and I mean really tufting forward: the other with a sparse very straight growth of fine fair hair neatly parted by her slit, her inner lips hanging and obvious. Just so right, of course, for me to touch and feel - one to each hand.

Thoughts of TMP and his noble ideals completely forgotten. I was wonderfully aroused and having just such a fantastic time. All these girls for me to ogle, touch and play with and not one saying anything about the liberties I was taking - and was I!

Tempting of course to try and fuck both of the two girls I was examining, each in turn, perhaps approaching from the rear. Their bottoms were fine enough - rounded and feminine. Instead I thought it time to see some movement. Choosing a cubicle I closed the door but for a crack and let time flow. The sudden resumption of movement is always a shock and perhaps more the sudden return of sound - the sound of girl chatter and laughter - and the sound of running water. Lovely to see the two girls I had so recently been fingering moving as they talked; just the change of posture as one moved from one foot to the other and her buttocks moved; seeing the bounce of boobs as they talked; and behind them the other girls. The tall one, whose personal space I had so recently 'invaded' looking pleasingly startled - so amusing. I was definitely going to do that again.

And all at once a disturbance to my pleasant contemplation: there was a girl at the door of my cubicle pushing at the door, pushing it right into me. It was time to move again and time to stop time. It would not do for this girl, no doubt anxious for a pee, to find a naked and erect man in her cubicle. Unlikely her eyes would light up and she would bolt the door, wink, settle down and start sucking me as she let her pee flow. No, very unlikely! Time stopped again and I squeezed past her.

There is something surprisingly sensual about the touch of flesh on flesh and this is heightened if there is some sort of lubricating medium between the two bodies be it oil, cream, the natural lubrication of a girl or, in the instant case, soap. Slipping between the girls in the showers - and I use the word 'slipping' advisedly - was more than simply pleasing. It was not just the touch of naked thigh, buttock or furriness on my erection rather my whole naked self was engaged in the touching - it was a full body experience. I was sliding by all sorts and shapes of boobs - and each girl had two of them!

Strange to note the droplets of water suspended in the air around the girls; lovely to see hands soaping away the rigors of the match; pleasing to see soapy hands touching all sorts of places; amusing to move hands so they were touching bodies other than their own. Yes, there were all sorts of amusement to be had! Nobody to say I 'shouldn't' when I touched; no one to slap my hand away; not one girl saying that I 'really should not be doing that.'