1 comments/ 39208 views/ 0 favorites Dorm Shower By: bruno312 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. Dorm Shower Surprise Ilse was a sophomore at a southwestern university. She was pretty, blond, and toned - her hours at the gym had worked off the freshman fifteen and more. Her sophomore year housing pick had worked out perfectly, or at least as perfectly as college dorms can. She was living with her two best friends, Ella and Sarah, in a three-person almost-suite. They had a small common area and two small bedrooms off of it - one slightly larger with a bunk bed and the other smaller with just one bed. Ilse and Sarah shared the two person room, and Ella slept on her own. At the beginning of the year, they'd made a deal: If one of them was bringing a boy home, they could use Ella's room. That was the compromise that made them all happy, and Sarah and Ilse had made use of it from time to time. The downside to their living situation was that the bathrooms were still in the hallway. The building's floors were segregated by sex - the fifth floor, on which the girls lived, was all girls, and the fourth and sixth were all boys. Each floor had a single-sex bathroom for the appropriate sex, as you'd expect. Ella and Sarah had both gone on tropical spring break trips and got back on Thursday just in time for class. Ilse had been stuck going back home to San Diego for some family business, so she was eager to hear all about Ella and Sarah's adventures in Cancun. But classes started up and they didn't get a chance to talk until brunch on Saturday. The girls had planned that brunch before leaving for spring break, knowing that they'd need a chance to get together and drink during the day. Sarah and Ella because they'd be used to it and Ilse so that she could live a little. The girls invited the guy pals who they liked the best - Nicholas, Dwayne, and Sam - to join them. Ilse had the biggest crush on Sam and hoped to keep his attention on her during brunch. Saturday brunch-time came and the six of them squeezed into a booth at a nearby place with bottomless brunch drinks and a generous policy on carding. Ella and Sarah decided to dress like they were still on spring break if they were going to tell their stories. Ella was in a small black string bikini with a gauzy white button-down on top. She'd buttoned two of the buttons, showing off a lot of skin, and the thin shirt didn't hide much either. Her big tits were pressed together by the bikini top, showing off ample cleavage. She wore cut-off jeans over her bikini bottoms, but they were unzipped and rolled down to show the ties of her bikini at her hips. Sarah wore jeans that looked like they'd been painted on and a thin red t-shirt on top that hung to her like a glove. Her nipples were on display. Ilse didn't know there was a dress code, so came in a cute patterned dress that usually got compliments. It showed some cleavage and hung to her tight belly, but didn't expose her the way that Sarah and Ella's outfits did. She'd never get the boys' attention with her friends dressed like that. Sarah and Ella dominated the conversation at brunch. At least there were bottomless bloody marys to keep Ilse company; the boys certainly were drawn to the other girls. It's not like they're hotter than she is, Ilse thought, they're just, well, being a bit slutty. Ilse's thoughts were confirmed when, after a drink and a half and still before the eggs arrived, Ella brought out her iPad and started to show pictures. The first few were pictures of beaches and sunsets and waves. And then the beaches had girls in bikinis on them. And then there were pictures of Sarah and Ella in bikinis on beaches. They had each taken the cliched shot looking down their reclining, glistening bodies that nicely showed off their tits in a skimpy bikini and a glimpse of the shadow under the top of their bikini bottoms. Then there were pictures of the two of them with a group of guys obviously fawning over them - they'd handed the camera to a new friend to snap some shots, they said. There they were playing chicken in a pool on the shoulders of some hunks who obviously wanted them. And there was a picture of Sarah on her belly with her top off, tanning. The next set of shots were of them in a bar, wearing cut off shorts and t-shirts. You could see their nipples in the pictures - they much have been obviously bra-less in person. Ella explained that their bikini tops had been cutting into their skin, so they went with a less restrictive outfit for the evening. The pictures showed them as certainly not being restricted. Sarah was laying on the bar, her shirt pulled up to reveal the bottom swell of her tits as a shirtless man took shots out of her belly button. And then there was a shot of Ella dancing on the bar. She'd shed her shorts in the first picture, prancing around in her bikini bottoms and that thin t-shirt. And then she was without the shirt, holding a hat to her chest. The boys were at the edge of their seats. Ilse ordered herself another bloody mary. The next picture had Ella with the hat covering her crotch, topless and, to all appearances, naked behind the hat. "Did you get naked?" "We got kicked out after that," Sarah explained, "but a couple of guys followed us out and took us to their hotel." "We wanted to try out their hot tub!" Ella explained. "And their cocks," Sarah whispered. The next picture showed them in a hot tub with a hunky guy. He was shirtless, but the two girls were in their t-shirts, which had gotten soaked and mostly transparent. By the side of the tub were discarded two pairs of cutoffs, two pairs of men's jeans, and two men's button-down shirts. There was also a pair of boxers. "Dave took this picture," Sarah said. "Ella and I were in our bikini bottoms and shirts and the boys in their boxers, just soaking, when he got out and asked if we had a camera. He wanted us to remember how much fun we were having." "And when Sarah told him where the camera was," Ella continued, "he shed his boxers and started taking pictures." The next picture, sure enough, was of an erect penis in the foreground and the girls in the background. "A real artist," Ella joked and grabbed the iPad. Ella swiped forward to the next picture. It had Sarah's face next to the cock in the foreground, hesitantly licking the tip. "We can stop with the pictures," Sarah said. "One more!" the boys pleaded. "Ok," Sarah said, "but it's going to be of Ella." Ella wouldn't let go of the iPad. "But first one more of Sarah!" Ella swiped the screen again, bringing up the next picture. Sarah was naked. She was straddling the photographer, his hard cock between her legs and glistening with her pussy juices. Sarah's hand was holding his cock and pointing it to her wet entrance. "You fucked him!" Dwayne exclaimed. "I'd have fucked you in Cancun, too," Sarah explained, "anything goes. Now give me that thing," she said, taking the iPad from Ella. "You boys want to see what Ella did? I'll give you each a guess." Nicholas guessed first: "Did you get naked on the beach?" Sarah smiled. "Of course - that's hardly daring for Cancun on spring break." Sam guessed next: "Did you slip into the men's changing room on the beach and get naked in front of a bunch of naked men?" He was so into them; there was no way I could get his attention back today. "Maybe next time," Sarah demurred. "Did you participate in a wet t-shirt contest?" Dwayne asked. "Bingo!" said Sarah, flipping through pictures until she found the one she wanted to show. "Here's Ella on stage getting wet." Sure enough, the picture showed Ella in a bikini bottom and the standard issue wet t-shirt, her tits entirely exposed by the thin wet cloth covering them. Sarah swiped to the next picture. Ella was topless. And then in the next shot, entirely nude, parading on stage. And in the next, she had her back to the audience and was bending at the waist, showing off her glistening pussy. The boys could hardly believe it. Ella was turning red. And then Sarah flipped to the next picture. Ella was in the same position, but the contest announcer was in front of her and she'd unfastened his jeans and had her mouth on his cock. "That's enough," Ella said quietly. "Put that away." Ilse was done with the show, too. She made up an excuse to get out of there - something about a forgotten project deadline - and started walking back to the dorm. All the way home, she mulled over what had happened and what she felt. Her roommates had just been having a good time, she thought. And they were just showing off for the boys. Nothing she wouldn't have done in their shoes. But she was jealous of them and their fun. Where was her chance to act the whore and get away with it? Why didn't she get to fuck some stranger on stage? Thinking about the things her roommates had done was getting to Ilse. She noticed then how turned on the pictures and stories had made her in addition to making her angry and jealous. She was getting wet thinking about what she would have done in that hot tub or on that stage. Ilse decided to clear her head with a shower, but wanted to get a little sweaty first. She jogged the rest of the way to her dorm and then dashed up the steps. The brief exertion pleasantly elevated her heart rate but did nothing for her her arousal. She kept thinking about brunch and how much the boys had loved the show, which made her mad and jealous and her pussy wetter and wetter. She opened the door to her floor from the dorm stairway and was met with the smell of stale beer and cigarettes. This wasn't the girls' floor. She looked around and saw the number six on the door behind her - she'd climbed an extra flight of stairs. As Ilse turned around to go down to her floor, she remembered Sam at brunch. She'd wanted his attention so badly and he just stared at Ella and Sarah and their pictures. He'd even suggested the most outrageous thing when guessing what Ella did. What kind of slut would strip in a men's changing room. A brazen slut, that's who, Ilse thought as she closed the door and stayed on the boys' floor of the dorm. Like Sarah and Ella. And she could be that brazen, too. Sam lived on this floor, Ilse thought, so maybe he'd hear about the slut who got naked in the bathroom. Maybe he'd jerk off to the idea of that rumor. Maybe he'd find out it was her and come find her. Ilse walked down the hall toward the bathroom. The floor was laid out just like her own, so she knew exactly where she was headed and planned her path accordingly. The bathroom would have the same layout as that on the girls' floor. It was a big tiled room with a wall splitting it in half. That center wall had sinks and mirrors on both sides and on the left side were stalls for toilets - and, she presumed, the boys' would have urinals. On the right side of the bathroom were the showers. There were six shower stalls in a row against the wall and between them and the sinks there was a low wall maybe three feet high to throw a towel over or temporarily put toiletries. Each shower stall was enclosed by textured glass to provide some privacy, but the glass only went from about one foot off the ground to about five feet off the ground. That meant in the girls' showers, when you took a shower your feet and eyes were visible. Ilse was almost six feet tall, so she thought that some of her shoulders were visible from outside the shower. Feeling brave and aroused and a little tipsy from brunch, Ilse opened the door to the boys' bathroom. She decided to act like she belonged. First Ilse went to the shower side to investigate. It looked exactly as she planned, and there were two guys in showers, both with their back to her, so she wasn't spotted yet. Ilse prepared for her shower. She kicked off her shoes and put them next to the short wall next to the showers. Then she reached behind herself to unzip her dress. Stepping out of it, she folded it over the short wall. She turned to examine herself in the mirrors. She'd worn her sexiest panties and bra so that she'd feel good at brunch with Sam, but it worked just as well in her current situation. She looked good. Her red lace panties contrasted with the color of her skin and showed off the flat belly she worked so hard for. And the matching bra lifted and exposed, putting her cleavage on display. Ilse wanted someone to see her in her panties and bra before she took them off - otherwise they'd be a waste! So she went to the toilet side of the bathroom. A groggy guy brushing his teeth looked at her and his eyes bugged out. Ilse, playing it cool, smiled sweetly and went into a stall. After finishing her business, Ilse went to the sinks. Tooth-brushing guy was still there, and Ilse washed her hands in the sink next to him. He froze, just watching her. Ilse's cool demeanor was betrayed by her heavy breathing, which was not lost on the guy next to her. He stared longingly at Ilse's chest as her tits rose and fell with each breath. Ilse loved the attention but could only wash her hands for so long. So she decided to wash her face, too. She splashed water on her face, but then realized that she had no towel. "May I borrow your towel?" she asked tooth-brusher nicely. Wordlessly, he handed her his towel. "Do you mind if I hold on to it for a bit? I'd like to take a shower but seem to have forgotten my towel." He gulped. "OK," he croaked. "Thanks!" Ilse kissed him on his cheek for his kindness and returned to the shower side. Both boys had finished their showers by the time Ilse returned and were emerging from shower cubicles with towels around their waists. Ilse draped her borrowed towel next to her dress and went to admire herself in the mirror. In the mirror, she could watch their reactions to her as she pretended to do something to her hair. The boys looked at her and stood motionless, mouths agape. Ilse reached for the clasp of her bra and undid it, releasing her tits. She turned around and draped her bra next to her dress. The boys leered at her; she smiled back and returned to the mirror. The boy who'd lent her the towel came back with another towel and a friend, both dressed for the showers. Ilse's audience was growing, and she felt her arousal growing with it. She continued playing innocent. Well, mostly. Ilse admired her exposed breasts in the mirror. She held her hands underneath, feeling their weight, and then gently pinched her nipples, which were already at attention from the chilly air and the four sets of eyes on her. Was she ready to go further? Where was this all leading? Ilse put her hands on her hips and put her thumbs inside her panties, ready to drag them down. She paused and felt the boys hold their breath. Here goes, she thought, and, bending at the waist, pulled her red lace panties all the way down her legs, showing her ass and wet pussy to the boys behind her. She picked up the panties from the floor and draped them with her dress and bra. This is what Sam dreamed of, she thought, imagining him masturbating to the idea of a naked girl in his dorm bathroom. Ilse cut a path through the boys to the showers. She chose a middle shower, pulled open the door, and started the water. Ilse got into the shower and closed the door. She faced the mirrors, though, to see what the boys did. The two boys who'd just entered rushed to the showers on either side of her and were quickly under the water. The boys in towels both had found some way to busy themselves at the mirrors. Ilse ran her hands over her body, massaging her breasts and then finding her pussy. Her finger easily slid inside as her eyes closed with pleasure. I wonder if the boys can see what I'm doing, she thought as her thumb found her clit. She bit her lip to keep from moaning. They can certainly see my face, she thought. Ilse opened her eyes to find herself the center of four boys' attention. This is fun, she thought, but I want - no, need - to be wild. She had an idea. Leaving the water running, she quickly opened her shower stall and knocked on her neighbor's - the guy who'd loaned the towel. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door and slid inside. He froze, his hand on his very hard cock. Ilse glanced down at his cock. I did that to him, she thought. "Hey," she said, "can you get my back?" The boy froze, so Ilse turned around and grabbed the top of one of the shower stall walls. "Use a little soap, but not too much - it'll dry out my skin." He sprung into action and was quickly rubbing soap into Ilse's back. She moaned. "You've got nice hands." The showers weren't all that big. There was room for one pretty comfortably, but two was a squeeze. And the boy was trying to be a gentleman, keeping his body from touching Ilse's. But even keeping his distance, his hard cock was maybe an inch and a half from Ilse's butt. "Get my sides, too," Ilse said, and arched her back, pushing herself into the boy. His hard cock nestled between her butt cheeks and his hands rubbed her sides, focusing on the sides of her tits. She pushed back into him, leaning forward and arching her back until her pussy made electric contact with his shaft. He got the hint and moved his hands. One hand found her tits and the other grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. Ilse worked her hips to rub her pussy on his cock. He moaned and held her closer. She wanted to be fucked, but she also wanted to tease more. "Thanks so much," she said, turning around and glancing at his hard cock coated in her juices. "I guess I can help you out, too." She opened the shower door to make sure the other boys watched. And then Ilse got on her knees in front of the showering boy and brought her lips to the head of his cock. Ilse kissed the tip and then licked a ring around the bulging head. She moved her mouth to the base of his cock and, holding the shaft with one hand and his ass with the other to keep her steady, she took one ball into her mouth and then the other. The boy moaned, and the boys at the mirror had moved closer and started touching themselves through their towels. Slowly, inch by inch, Ilse took his cock in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down on his cock, massaging his balls. And then he started, all of a sudden, to come. Ilse took the cock out of her mouth and pointed it to her bare tits and it spewed rope after rope of semen. "Do you think your friend can help me wash this off?" Ilse asked, standing up and still holding on to the boy's cock. She kissed him and moved to his friend's shower stall, where she opened the door wide open and left it open for all to see. "Your friend got me a bit messy - maybe you can clean me up," she cooed. Ilse could tell by his hard cock and his fast hands that he was all too eager to help. She let him maul her cum-smeared tits for a while and then stood very close to him under the stream of the water. "Check my pussy," she said, "to make sure he didn't get any in there." The boy's hand was at her pussy in an instant. She was wetter than she'd ever been and needed him to explore. He spread her lips and put in an exploratory finger. Ilse moaned. The finger started working in and out of her, and then was joined by another finger. And then his thumb found her clit and Ilse was moaning and panting. "Fuck me," she whispered. He must not have heard, but his fingers continued to work their magic. "Fuck me," she whispered again, more desperate and closer to his ear. "Fuck me!" she screamed and pulled herself away from his hands to face the mirror and the boys in towels. Ilse leaned over the short wall separating the showers from the mirrors and waited, presenting her sopping pussy to the boy who'd been fingering her. She didn't have to wait long. He eased his hard cock into her as her moans grew louder and more desperate. Ilse looked up and saw herself in the mirror. She was holding on to the short wall for her life while the boy behind her held fast to her hips, ramming himself into her again and again. Her tits bounced with each thrust, and the cum that hadn't been entirely cleaned off her breasts slowly ran down her chest. Her wet hair was a tangled mess. Dorm Shower Surprise She looked one of the boys in a towel in the eye and smiled at him. He looked at her with hunger in his eyes. She had all these boys wrapped around her finger, just like Ella and Sarah had done at brunch. Who was the sexy slut now? Watching herself being watched drove Ilse over the edge. She came hard, and so did her man. As the boys watched and caught their breath, Ilse dried herself off with the borrowed towel and threw her dress on. She left the towel, her bra, and her panties behind as she walked out the door towards the stairs. As cum trickled down her leg, she knew the story would make the rounds. "Hi, Sam!" Ilse called as she passed him coming up the stairs. Dorm Showers I don't really know what to make of it, to be honest. Sarah and I got in the pattern of going for early-morning runs together, which I thought was just a part of our friendship, but lately I've started to think she's flirting with me. Maybe you can help me figure this out? I'll tell you what's happened as best I can. Introductions are probably in order. I'm Jake, a student at a fairly progressive college in the midwest. My friend Sarah is also here, and we both just finished our junior years. We both live on campus in the same dorm building. I'll start with the beginning of recent events so that you've got the whole picture. This spring, as winter slowly receded, I complained to Sarah that I felt like a shut-in and needed some exercise pretty desperately. She said she'd been feeling the same way and suggested we start running. I'm naturally slim and try to stay moderately active, so running was not entirely out of the picture for me, but I was not in running shape. When I told Sarah that, she laughed and said she was in the same boat and said that we'd start slow. So the next morning, we went for our first run together. We were both pretty winded after running a half mile and ended up walking the rest of our planned two-mile loop. When we got back to the dorm, we agreed that running sucked and also that we'd do it again in two days. We've been running three times a week ever since, and we've actually gotten good. Well, good for us. So that started in the spring semester - some time in March. Our semester ended in the beginning of May, but both of us are staying here for summer session courses. Like I said, it's a pretty progressive college. The dorm floors are co-ed and the bathrooms are also all co-ed. There's one big bathroom on each floor with a bunch of toilet stalls, two rows of sinks, and a row of shower stalls. When the summer session started, the college moved students around to use fewer floors of the dorm (it saves energy!), and Sarah and I requested and got neighboring rooms, whereas before we'd been on different floors. This, in turn, changed our running habits a bit. Three weeks ago, on Tuesday, we moved into our new dorm rooms. We went for a run on Wednesday. We'd usually meet at 7:30am in front of the building, but decided to meet at our doors at 7:30 instead. I was up and dressed for our run on Wednesday morning at 7:30, wearing my running shoes, my mid-thigh running shorts, and a t-shirt. Sarah wasn't in the hall when I opened my door, so I just went next door and knocked. Sarah opened her door. "I'll be ready in just a sec," she said, "but come in." I looked around. She'd already made the place home - there were no moving boxes anywhere and already a pile of clothes on the floor. Just like her last room. And then I looked at her. Sarah usually ran in shorts and a t-shirt, just like me. But she'd not gotten her t-shirt on yet and was walking around in shorts and a red sports bra. I don't think I'd ever seen her bare midriff before, and I stared a little bit. She looked good. She was slim and lithe and her c-cup breasts were highlighted wonderfully by her sports bra. Her nipples were a little hard, I noticed. "Are you running like that today?" I asked. She swatted me with a t-shirt. "You wish," she said, pulling it over her head. We ran four miles that morning, and then walked one. And when we got back to the dorm, we took the elevator to the same floor for the first time. "I'm gonna hit the showers," Sarah said, sticking her head into her room and grabbing a towel and bag of toiletries. "You coming?" "I need to find my stuff," I said, "so I'll get there in a minute." When I made it to the bathroom, I heard a shower running and saw Sarah's towel over the door. I chose a stall two down from hers. Let me tell you what these shower stalls look like, because they're a little weird. The top of the walls dividing showers from each other and the bathroom is maybe five feet high, which means that it comes to the height of my mouth. So I can see the a lot of the room when I'm in the shower. And it means that when I walked into the bathroom that morning, I saw the wet top of Sarah's head (since she's maybe 5'-3"). The other thing about these walls is that they start about two feet off the ground, which is to say about knee-height. Being a co-ed bathroom means that the showers each need to have a place to change. So each stall has a shower with a curtain and a little antechamber with a bench and some hooks. So when I walked into the shower part of the bathroom and saw Sarah's towel over the door and the top of her head under the shower spray, I also saw her workout clothes on the floor and could have, if I were a perv, put my head at knee-level and seen her shins in the shower. In any case, I got into a shower two down from Sarah's and washed up. I'd brought a pair of jeans to change into, so when I emerged after my shower, I was shirtless in jeans with my towel over a shoulder. That's how I usually did the walk back to my room. Decent enough, but I didn't have to bring all my clothes with me to the shower. Sarah got out of the shower about the same time as I did, only she didn't bring clothes to change into - she was wearing only a towel wrapped around her chest. She smiled at me and said she had to run to work and that she'd see me later and then she dashed out the door. We hung out that night and watched a movie, and made plans for our Friday morning run. I didn't see Sarah on Thursday at all. Friday, we repeated the same morning pattern. I was up a bit before her, and knocked on her door. She opened the door in her sports bra and shorts again and this time when I suggested that she just run like that, she agreed. As we ran, I had a hard time keeping my eyes away from her chest, admiring the way her breasts bounced with each step. We made it back to the dorm and started talking as we caught our breaths. She was telling me about her work this summer as we got to our rooms. "Ready for a shower?" she asked, interrupting her story about how another intern at her office was making her life difficult. I poked my head into my room to grab my toiletries and a towel and a pair of jeans. "Leave the jeans," Sarah instructed, "it's a bit of a thrill to walk down this hallway in just a towel. Try it with me." I left the jeans in my room and followed her to the bathrooms while Sarah continued her story. I picked a shower in the middle of the row, and after I chose mine, Sarah chose the one next to it, all the while telling her story. She was explaining how the other intern had screwed up a copying job and needed her help as she undressed on the other side of the thin wall from me. I watched, a bit awestruck, as her shorts landed on the floor next to my feet. And then her arms extended above the short barrier bringing her bra off over her head. And then her bra was also just inches from my feet. I started to undress, too, feeling my cock stiffen at the proximity of Sarah's almost naked body. Just as Sarah had deposited her clothes on the side of the shower stall closest to mine, I threw my shirt, then my shorts, and finally my boxers on the floor next to her pile. Then Sarah's panties joined her pile and we were both naked, separated by the little wall. We made eye contact across the wall. My height and how close we were to each other meant I could see down to her chin. She smiled. "And that," she said, continuing her story, "is when I realized that maybe he had a crush on me!" "So," I asked, turning the water in my shower on, "what are you going to do about it? Are you interested?" She stepped into the shower and started her water, too. "Well he is kinda cute," she said, hesitating, "but not as cute as you are." She smiled at me again and then turned away to find her shampoo. As we soaped up, she asked me about my love life. I told her about the dates I'd been on with a classmate in May and how we'd not really had much chemistry. "That's a shame," Sarah said, finishing up in the shower, "you should have some chemistry in your life." As we toweled off and emerged from our shower stalls in only our towels, we talked about plans for the next week. We were both headed out of town, but we agreed to run together the Monday we returned. We parted ways at the doors to our rooms. That weekend was Memorial Day and the college gave us the whole week off, so Sarah and I both went home for a visit. I came back after the vacation on Sunday evening - that's the beginning of last week - and went to bed after a long day of traveling, having set my alarm for Monday morning. By 7:30am, I was ready for our run and in the hallway. I knocked on Sarah's door as was becoming a pattern. She opened the door. "Sorry," she said through the toothbrush in her mouth and pointed me to sit on her bed. Sarah wasn't dressed yet. She was wearing a thong, which I admired as she bent over to spit out the toothpaste, and a tank top. She pulled on her shorts as I watched and then faced me with her hands on the hem of her tank top. She looked me in the eye and started to inch her top up her belly. "Would you mind closing your eyes?" I obliged and was quickly hit in the head with her top. "Ready?" she asked a minute later, and I opened my eyes to her in a sports bra, her nipples obviously hard. I stood up and we went for our run. When we got back, we picked up soap and towels and headed to the showers. Sarah again chose a shower next to mine, and again dropped her clothes next to my feet. And I, again, was getting turned on knowing how close I was to a naked girl. "No jeans this time," Sarah noted. "How was it going down the hall in only a towel?" "It was OK, I guess." I didn't know what to say about the experience. "You say it gives you a thrill?" "Can I tell you a secret, Jake?" I nodded. "It turns me on a little." "What about it?" I asked. "I get a thrill, I guess, of exposing some skin in public. Not knowing who will see, but knowing that anyone could. And walking down the hall in just a towel, I'm so close to naked in front of everyone on our floor. Just a little slip of the fabric is all it would take, Jake." I looked across the wall at her. Sarah blushed. "Just telling you about it is turning me on a little." We were both done washing ourselves, but neither of us made a move to get out of the shower. "Want to walk to our rooms the long way around the floor?" I asked. Sarah's face lit up and she made a guilty smile. We toweled off and walked - slowly - the long way back to our rooms. We next ran on Wednesday. I knocked on Sarah's door at 7:30, wondering what I'd see. Wondering whether she was showing off for me the way she'd talked about showing off in general. I wasn't disappointed. She answered her door in a black nightie that showed off her breasts and came to mid-thigh. "Running late?" I asked. "Sorry!" she called, fishing a pair of panties from her dresser and pulling them on under her nightie. She'd answered the door wearing only her gown, I realized. Did she always sleep in that sexy outfit? Sarah turned her back to me and without any ado, lifted her nightie up and off, showing me her bare back and panty-clad ass. She pulled a sports bra from her dresser and before I knew it, she was covered up and wriggling into her shorts. "Ready?" she asked, opening the door. After our run, we hit the showers together as was becoming our usual. As we stepped into the showers, both of us naked, but separated as usual by that little divider, I got the courage together to ask Sarah a question. "You said on Monday that showing off turns you on," I started. "Mmmhm." "Well, what about what you did this morning before our run?" "You mean sleeping? Does sleeping turn me on?" she teased. "You know what I mean." "Say it, Jake." So I asked her: "Did it turn you on when you showed off and nearly got naked in front of me this morning?" "Yes, Jake, it did." "It turned me on, too," I said. And before I knew it, we were out of the showers, in our towels, and walking down the hall together. At our doors, we made plans for our Friday run. As usual, I was ready to knock on Sarah's door Friday at 7:30 sharp. I'd been awake for an hour, honestly, pacing and wondering what she'd be wearing this time. Just as I reached up to knock, the door opened. Sarah was dressed in her shorts and sports bra and ready for a run. And off we went. We did our usual run and shower arrangement, ending up in shower stalls next to one another. We stripped and started our showers, talking about our plans for the day. It had been sweltering out, and we'd gotten pretty sweaty. Neither of us had plans for the day, so Sarah invited me to spend the day chilling and watching Netflix. We got to our rooms and I reached for my door. "Don't worry about getting dressed," Sarah said, "just come in." We jumped on her bed in our towels and settled in to watch BBC's Sherlock. As we occasionally adjusted our sitting positions, our towels moved around a bit. By the end of the episode, we were both still fully covered, but just barely. My towel had come unfastened and limp around my waist, exposing the top of my pubic hair. Sarah's towel had gotten shorter in both directions. It wasn't a big towel to start with, but sitting in bed, the bottom had ridden up to expose all of her legs. A corner of the towel between her legs was all that preserved her modesty. And the top was no better. Her towel had also become untucked and her breasts were nearly peeking out. And on top of that, we were both still sweating. You know how on really hot days, when you've exercised and gone to the shower before entirely cooling down you come out of the shower still sweating? Well, that's what we'd done. "I'm still sweating," I declared. "Me too," she said, "and if I move an inch, I'll probably lose this towel." "OK by me!" I replied jokingly. "Nice try, Jake," she smiled. "Close your eyes while I get decent, then I'll do the same for you." I closed my eyes, ever the gentleman, while Sarah got out of bed and wrapped herself in the towel again. "Your turn," she said. I stepped out of bed, thrilled to be naked in Sarah's room, and slowly wrapped my towel back around my waist. "I think I need another shower," I declared. "Me, too," said Sarah, "but let's make this more fun. How about we go shower on another floor, taking only these towels with us." I agreed to the plan, knowing it would turn Sarah on. We took the stairs down two flights and found our way to that floor's bathroom, encountering only a couple of people who didn't seem entirely surprised to see us. We took adjacent shower stalls as usual. Sarah was breathing a little bit heavily. We rinsed the sweat off our hot bodies in silence. "How about this," Sarah said as though we were in the middle of a conversation already. "How about I race you back to my room." "Ok," I said. "I'm not done. How about I race you back to my room and the loser has to spend the rest of the day in a towel." "You're on." "And there's another catch: no adjusting your towel as we run back upstairs. If it comes loose and you adjust it, you automatically lose." We were out of the showers and drying off by this point. I tied my towel tightly around my waist and assumed Sarah was doing the same. And then we were doing it: racing through the dorm in which we live in just towels. We opened the bathroom door and shook hands. The race was on! Sarah took off down the hall toward the stairs. I didn't expect her to run so quickly, knowing that if the towel slipped she'd lose. I sped up to stay hot on her heels and caught up to her at the top of the stairs. She'd stopped at the door onto our floor and I couldn't tell why until I stood next to her. She was pressed against the door - I guess in a rush to get it open. And in pressing the door against her breasts, her towel had come untucked. If she let go of the door, her towel would fall to the floor unless she held it up. And if she held it up, she'd lose our race. I caught her eye, and she smiled at me and then winked and threw the door open. In a blink of an eye, her bare ass sped down the empty hallway to her room, leaving the towel at my feet. I'd lost, I realized. I picked up Sarah's towel and brought it to her room, where I opened the door hoping to catch her still nude. Sarah had put on a t-shirt and panties and had queued up the next episode of Sherlock. "Come on, towel boy," she cooed, patting the bed next to her. We spent the day like that, in her bed watching Netflix and eating popcorn, her in panties and a t-shirt and me in just a towel. Our next run was yesterday morning - Monday. I got up early as usual and knocked on Sarah's door at 7:30. She took a little while to respond, so I knocked a little louder. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she said, and the opened the door, poking out just her head. "Ready to run?" I asked. "Shit, Jake, I must have missed my alarm," Sarah mumbled. "I'm still naked." "I can wait." "Come in," she said, pulling my arm, "but close your eyes, ok?" I closed my eyes and let her pull me in. I really am a gentleman. She let go of my arm and, in a minute, said I could open my eyes. Instead of getting dressed, Sarah had gotten back into bed and under a sheet, which she held to her chest. "You almost ready?" I asked. "Give me a minute to open my eyes, ok?" I sat next to her on the bed for a minute while she woke up and told me about her dream. "Ok," she said after a minute, "I'm ready. Can you toss me a pair of panties?" I stood up and went to her dresser and opened the top drawer. The first underwear I found was a thong, which I tossed to Sarah. She pulled the covers up and wriggled into the thong under the covers. Then she carefully slung an arm across her chest to cover her breasts and stood up. Sarah, wearing only a thong and covering her breasts with an arm, walked towards me and her dresser. I stared. With her free arm, Sarah dug up a sports bra. "Close your eyes," she said, and I did. When she told me to open my eyes, she was bent over putting on socks, showing me her nice ass. She stood up while pulling on shorts and we went for a run. We made it to the showers as usual, and then started talking. The showers, I guess, are where we talk about turn-ons and sex. I asked Sarah about how she felt about last Friday's towel adventure. "I was so turned on, Jake," she started. "Running naked in the dorm was exhilarating." "Yeah?" I pressed her to continue. "I think I actually wanted to lose and not to win," she admitted. "I spent all weekend thinking about having to wear a towel all day. Maybe it would slip and you'd see my breasts. Maybe you'd have taken me to dinner and I'd have had to wear only a towel in public." "You'd like that, wouldn't you." "Oh, yes. The thrill of my knot slipping and leaving me buck naked. Or maybe you'd tug on my towel and bare me intentionally." Sarah was starting to breathe more heavily. "Do you mind if I touch myself?" she asked. My cock was rock hard when I reached for it. "I'm already touching myself," I whispered. Sarah moaned. I listened to the sound of the water change as she masturbated. I wasn't going to last long, I realized, and told Sarah. "Because of me?" she gasped. "Because of you," I answered. "Jake," she asked, "when you come, can you come on the floor between us? I want to see your cum." Her request put me over the top. I came in long spurts on the floor between us, grunting. Sarah must have been right there with me because as my second jet of cum landed, she called out in her own orgasm. Dorm Showers Ep. 01 "Pssst! Paul!" I heard the hiss above the roar of my little shower cubicle in the dorms. I paused from one of the near constant adjustments I was making to the temperature of the water and opened the curtain just enough to peek out. I could only see Jason's face peeking from his own shower across from mine. "What?" "Do you see anybody?" He half whispered, a cute little idiotic grin on his face. I quickly searched around, but there were no other showers running, and no towels hung outside them. The curtain that separated the showers from the rest of the public bathroom was closed tightly. I shook my head. "Then come here!" He said, beckoning quickly. I smiled uncertainly. "What? Why?" He rolled his eyes. "Come on, don't be a prude!" I laughed. "Prude? Really? Who uses the word prude?" "Then don't be a fuddy-duddy!" He replied, winking. "I heard you talking to Alexis that you haven't gotten any in a while, and that you wanted to try something new." He squinted at me for a second, and my heart melted a bit at how adorable he looked. "You are gay, right?" "I like girls, too!" I half-protested. Truthfully, I adored women, and I wanted to get married and have kids the traditional way, picket fence and all that. At the time I really expected that my attraction for men was just a phase, something to experiment with as a teen in college, in the Arts department, no less. But, after a few encounters at some theatre major parties, I was kind of labeled among the Fine Arts dorm as being gay. He shook his head. "Uh-huh. So come here!" He beckoned with just one crooked finger now, his head lowered like a seductress drawing men in from under her eyebrows. "But it's really public!" I whispered back. I was only a little worried though. Most of me was itching to jump across, including the half-mast that was steadily pulling itself up toward a full salute under my midsection. It knew exactly how long it had been since it had seen something besides my hand and the glow of my computer. Jason gave me another sexy little look. "Leave your water running then, so people will think you're still in there. And if we get caught...we're just helping each other shower." He paused and then held out his hand. "That's not a bad idea, though...I bet we can make more than few suds between us, don't you?" I grinned wide, and after taking another look around, slipped out from behind my curtain (making sure to close it tightly again for the sake of illusion) and took his hand. He pulled me into his shower and shut his own curtain firmly. For a second I reveled under the hot spray of his water after the cold shock of air in between cubicles before I realized that the stalls were not made for two people, and the two of us were standing very naked and very close to each other. My heart leapt in my chest as we met eyes and simultaneously started to look each other up and down. For my own part, I'm not a bad looking guy. I'm 5'10, a good average, maybe slightly taller height. I weigh more than I look, about 170, though I'm pretty skinny and I don't look all that muscle-y. I'm not a very hairy guy, pretty smooth all around, though I still trim my pubes to keep myself looking bigger and neater. By now, of course, my dick was fully erect, as excited as I was over Jason and the taboo-ness of it all. I'm only about 6 inches long, but girth is where my true strength lies. No one could wrap their hand around my dick and tell me it was small. Jason, a tanned Adonis, was a little hairier than me. He had chest hair, he could obviously grow a beard (which I can't), but was clean shaven, and his legs and crotch were a lot darker with fur than me, though it was obvious he trimmed himself, a fact I appreciated. He was shorter than me by just an inch or two, but broader in the shoulder, firmer in the torso. He was a dance major and had the body to prove it. His legs were lean, his body lithe, his whole being light, graceful and precise. His member was about the same length of mine, plus some change. It WAS thinner, but the head was the same size as mine, giving it a kind of cute, comical, cartoony look. I loved it. But what I was really intrigued by was what lay under his erection. His balls were enormous! I felt a quiver of intense longing. I have a bit of a confession. I have a cum fetish. I love pretty much every aspect of sperm. Watching men cum on women, men, themselves, a napkin, a table, in mouths, on faces, on breasts, on chests, creampies (anal or vaginal), on cocks, in hair, it's all wonderful. My favorite porn is cum-compilations. Especially facially themed ones. Watching the expressions of the people getting spunked on is such a joy that I often mimic the person's face as I watch, stroking myself desperately. The receiver never has the same expression. Sometimes it's rapture, sometimes rage, sometimes boredom, or surprise, it's always different and it's always lovely. I love being on all sides of the jizz too. I'm just as excited to watch myself splatter someone as I am being splattered upon. When I saw Jason's low, large, luscious balls, I knew he was just waiting to unleash it all for me. A touch to my chin brought me back to reality and made me realize I was staring. I let the hand draw my face back up to look at Jason's smile. "Is this ok?" He asked. I snickered quietly, and wrapped my arms around his neck. "This is perfect." I pulled him into a light kiss, right in the middle of the hot water spray, and as the kiss deepened, so did the connection of our bodies. It started with just our mouths, and as our arms wrapped around each other, we drew each other closer and closer. With our cocks erect and pointing at each other, they were the first to touch, and we both laughed around each other's mouths as the initial touch made us both jump a little. We pushed ourselves together from there, our dicks sliding against each other until we had them pressed up tight in between our stomachs, side by side, our chests pressed tightly to each other, our tongues playing along teeth, lips and the tips of the other. I felt thrill after thrill as a movement by one of us made our low hanging testicles touch. It was like what was building up inside them was yearning to mix already. We stayed like that for a little while, just enjoying the contact until Jason made the first move. His left hand stayed wrapped around the back of my neck, keeping my mouth locked on his as his right hand slid up and down my back, his fingernails lightly scratching, sending goosebumps up and down my body, despite the heat of the water. His hand ventured lower and lower until it reached the top of my ass when he suddenly grabbed my right cheek, his fingers almost in my crack, and pushed me into the wall of the shower. His kisses became deeper and more primal, his breathing the same. I could feel our dicks sliding against each other and against our stomachs in the slickness of the wet and I almost lost myself in it. But I let it go on for only a bit longer before pulling my mouth away a bit. I smiled slightly and pulled his ear to my mouth. "I thought we were going to get sudsy." I licked at his earlobe and kissed his jawline. He shivered and then pulled back himself, smiling broadly. I shook my head. I could get used to a smile like his. It could be sweet, it could be sexy, I bet it could've even been sad, but for now it was just broad faced joy, plain and simple. He nodded. "That we are," he murmured. Dorm Showers We didn't make eye contact as we cleaned up. I don't know if we crossed a line or something, but I certainly felt sheepish. We left the bathroom in towels together, though, just as usual. And we made plans for our next run - on Wednesday, which is tomorrow. So that's where things stand as of yesterday morning. I really don't know what to do or think. What do you think, dear readers? Is Sarah flirting with me? Is she into me? I'm definitely interested in doing more than just teasing with her. How should I approach her? What should I say? Help me out, please!