tagInterracial LoveThe Shower Girl

The Shower Girl

bybronzeage©

Marcus checked his watch as he pulled into the parking lot of the Star Fitness Center. It was forty five minutes until closing, which would be time for a fast work out and a shower before they locked the door.

It was a small gym in a strip mall. It didn't have the facilities he was used to, but it was convenient and cheap.

His usual schedule had him here when they opened in the morning. This was the first time he tried it in the evening and hoped it wasn't crowded. He could see someone at the reception desk, but other than her, there was no one in sight.

Myquelle was hoping no one would show up and she could lock the door a little early but when she looked up she saw a car's headlamps turn off. A figure stepped out of the car, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked toward the door. She recognized him as regular morning customer and grabbed her purse from under the desk. She pulled her compact out and flipped open the mirror to check her lipstick, before she pressed the door lock release.

"Well, hello. I didn't expect you to be here this late, he said with a broad grin.

Myquelle turned her head to the side and looked at Marcus from the corner of her eye, batting her lashes. His blue eyes made it difficult to look directly at him, but she wasn't certain why.

"I had to trade with somebody who works nights," she said with mock exasperation, "and you done spoiled my plans."

"Plans? What did you have planned? Myquelle straightened herself in the chair and looked at him through her lashes. Her voice shifted to a soft low tone.

"I was hoping to close a little early and get my housekeeping done, so I could get out of here."

"Housekeeping?" he said with one eyebrow raised.

"Whoever closes has to wipe down the machines and carry out the trash." The exasperation returned, this time sincere.

"Do I have time for a work out and a shower?"

"Oh yeah, baby. You got plenty of time. I'll lock the door and start cleaning up. It's just me and you here right now." Marcus looked right and left, then leaned over the counter.

"Good. My plans are going to work out just fine."

"What plans you got?"

"To catch you here, all alone, after dark," he answered in a low a growl that made her neck muscles stiffen. Myquelle's mouth dropped open and her bottom lip curled over her teeth. She twisted her neck again, but this time looked to the ceiling and rolled her eyes, happy her dark chocolate skin hid the blush that was spreading across her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You a crazy man," she said with a giggle, but Marcus had already shouldered his bag again and walked to the gym.

Marcus slid extra plates onto the bar over the bench press rack. In the mirrored wall, he could see Myquelle on the far side of the gym. She had changed into a pair of blue bike shorts a loose green scrub top. She bent over to pick up a basket of cleaning supplies, pulling the shorts tight over her full round ass. A clang rang through the gym as Marcus slammed the last plate onto the bar, almost catching his fingers.

Myquelle turned and looked back at him, aware he was watching and smiled over her shoulder. Marcus smiled back, but she had already turned to her work and didn't see. He lay down on the bench and began his first set.

Myquelle worked quickly, spraying the grips and seat pads of each exercise machine and wiping it dry, always keeping him in view, using the mirror walls to seem less obvious. She had watched him often, but this was the first there were no distractions.

His usual routine was to alternate between a machine and the free weights. He worked his way around the circuit until they met at the inclined bench. His shirt was damp with sweat and clung to his chest. He was feeling the rush from the workout and without thinking, pulled it off, balled it in his fist, and mopped the fur from chin to navel. It took only a second to remember he was not alone. He looked to the side to see Myquelle staring at him.

"Oh," Marcus said, trying not to grin, "Excuse me." Myquelle could not contain her grin, but tried to stifle a giggle.

"It's just you and me, baby. Don't worry. "

She had a perfect view as he hooked his feet under the bar and lay back to do sit-ups. Marcus closed his eyes, put his hands behind his head, laid down and came back up with a spring, letting himself back down with deliberate slowness.

Myquelle took this moment to study his form. His closed eyes made her feel invisible, as though she had found him asleep, unaware she was watching. Most of her day was filled with either skinny boys who pulled their shirts up to admire their abs, or fat old men whose shirts rolled up over their gut as they pedaled the bikes. This man was different. There was nothing fat or skinny about him, just solid. His lats stretched down from raised arms to disappear into his waist. With no shirt, his chest and shoulders looked fuller and rounder, but what struck her most was the thick curly hair that covered from collar bones to waist band. Marcus's stomach rippled as he sat up, no six pack abs, it just looked solid, covered with soft fur.

Each time he sat up, his shorts worked down a bit, exposing more hip. Soon the waist band was caught under him and Myquelle realized spray soap was puddling at her feet. She bent down to wipe the floor, keeping her eyes on Marcus's profile, wishing she were behind him, to see his ass with the shorts half way down.

Marcus sat up, opened his eyes and pulled one foot loose from the padded bar. He ran his towel under his chin and over the back of his neck. The burn in his shoulders and chest was fading, replaced by the lifter's high, as fresh blood flowed into the over worked muscles. He looked over at Myquelle, who had not moved from the spot.

"Your pants come off when you do that," she said, leaning over, wiping the rail of a treadmill, and holding her weight on one arm. Her scrubs hung open at the neck, giving Marcus a view straight down her cleavage. He swung his leg over the bench, stood up, and suddenly noticed cold air on the small of his back. The waistband of his shorts was low, caught just below his hipbones. Myquelle's mouth fell open again. The black hair that covered his stomach became even more thick and bushy where it disappeared into his shorts.

"They come off when you do that, too," he said as he pulled them back up to just below his navel.

"Do what?"

Marcus grinned and chuckled through his teeth. Myquelle glanced down to see her breasts swing as she wiped the rail.

"You are such a tease," she giggled. Marcus straightened his waist band and flicked his towel at her upturned ass as he stepped past her. The towel popped her with a sharp sting, making her swat at the air, but Marcus was already several feet away.

"I never tease," he said. "It's all a sincere offer." Myquelle stood there, biting her bottom lip as she watched him strut into the men's locker room.

The locker room was long, narrow, a series of square rooms with lockers near the door, and shower stalls far in the back. Marcus sat on the bench by the shower to pull his shoes off. He leaned back against the wall, took a deep breath, and replayed the last few minutes in his mind. Myquelle was hot, maybe better than hot, but it was silly to think it was anything more than a flirt, probably the kind of thing she did all day long.

He stood to pull his shorts off and saw the shower stall he used by habit was out of order. The knobs were lying on the tile floor and the showerhead was just a bare pipe sticking from the wall. The other stall was handicap equipped and nearly twice the size of the other. In addition to the expected spray nozzle, there was a fold down vinyl bench and stainless steel grab bars.

Marcus tossed his shirt and shorts into the workout bag and pulled out the large towel. The locker room door clattered open, pulling a cool breeze past him. He looked around the corner to see Myquelle, her back to him, lifting the plastic liner from the trash bin by the door. He stood there with nothing but his towel as she worked, quickly relining the bin and then dragging the full bag out the door without looking back. He watched door slowly close after her, a little disappointed, but resigned to shower and get out quick, so she could close and go home.

The hot water on his back felt better than usual. He wondered if it was because of the late hour, or maybe it was the play with Myquelle. He rubbed the soap into his cloth and ran it over his face and down his chest. His cock stiffened at the first touch of the cloth. He shifted his feet to let the spray focus on the head and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. The fatigue washed off his chest and shoulders with the hot water, bringing fresh energy. He knew he should just scrub down and finish, but did not want to break the spell.

Myquelle was in the women's locker room, making sure all was in order when she heard the shower on the other side of the wall. She put one hand on the counter to steady herself as the naked image of Marcus, under the water appeared in her mind. His back was to the spray, rivulets of water running over his broad shoulders, down his back and dripping off that hard butt. Now, she could not believe she had gone in the men's locker room, knowing he was there. It seemed so brazen, but he probably had not even known. Once inside, she could not bring herself to look toward the showers, not knowing what she would do if she saw him or even heard his voice. She took a deep breath to compose herself, opened her locker, and pulled out a towel.

Maybe a cold shower would help her overcome this feeling. Marcus's shower was drumming on the wall, louder than she had ever heard before. She closed her eyes and the towel knotted up in her fists as her teeth dug into the back of her hand. Myquelle opened her eyes, feeling disconnected from her body. She was looking at her feet and was surprised to see her right foot move toward the door. An arm extended before her and pushed the door open. The bike shorts felt tighter with every step. She didn't look down again, certain she was soaking through the fabric.

Marcus dipped his head under the spray, rinsing the shampoo from his hair and felt a draft of cold air on his back, just as before when Myquelle opened the door. He turned and stared at the doorway. The water covered all sounds but he could see a reflection in the smooth tile wall, moving slowly closer.

Myquelle kept putting one foot in front of the other. The locker room never seemed this long. She kept thinking, He doesn't know you're here, you can turn around and walk out, but her feet kept walking. Suddenly, she was face to face with him. Her mind went blank as she absorbed the sight. Marcus stood with his right shoulder under the spray. Water splashed under his chin, dripping from his beard, down through the thick hair on his chest, over his belly to drip from his hard cock.

"This must be how the headlights feel when they see a deer," he said. His voice brought her back to the present and his smile pulled her eyes upward to meet his.

Oh Mama, help me. I'm looking at a naked blue eyed man, she thought.

"I usually take a shower before I go home," Myquelle said quietly.

"I have shower right here. Would you like to share it with me?" he asked and held his hand out to her. Myquelle raised one foot to step to him and remembered she was still clothed. She giggled and kicked her shoes off and was about to strip in a flash, but realized she was on display. She pulled the scrubs in one slow motion, watching for Marcus'sreaction as one ebony nipple and then the other appeared. His chest rose as he took a slow deep breath. This was all encouragement she needed.

The bike shorts were a little more trouble. She turned her back and peeled the shorts over her hips and down her legs, bending at the waist to pull them off her ankles. Marcus had been cool and calm up to this point, but the sight of Myquelle bent double, balancing on one foot as she lifted the other made his heart bang against his throat. She stood up and turned to face him, well aware of the effect she created.

His arm was still extended and she stepped closer to put her hand in his, but he raised it to touch her hair. Myquelle looked at his thick forearm and bicep, watching the muscles ripple as his fingers curled in her hair. It was the first time Marcus had actually touched her. Her hair was soft and silky to his touch. He caught a tress in his fingers and rubbed his thumb over it. Myquelle kissed the inside of his wrist and smiled at him.

"Have you ever been with a black woman?" she asked. Marcus's forehead wrinkled as he considered the question.

"No," he said and smiled. "I don't think I have ever been this close to a naked one." Myquelle suddenly felt all shyness fall away and smiled with all her teeth showing.

"Oh, baby, let me show you what you been missing," she said as Marcus's hand slipped behind her head and pulled her to him. He stepped back, the water splattering over his shoulder and chest as his blue eyes came closer to hers. She closed her eyes as their lips touched.

The forceful arm and hand became gentle as his mouth sealed to hers. Myquelle gasped and sucked air from his lungs, pulling his tongue between her teeth. He was warm and sweet to her taste. Marcus pulled back, his forehead smooth and relaxed. She could feel the pulse behind her ears above the roar of the spray. She put her hands on his ribs and pulled closer. Her breasts pressed flat to his chest and his cock jabbed her mound. He shifted and it slid up her belly and she squeezed tight against him.

Water pooled between them and ran over her breasts. Marcus rolled the muscles of his stomach and hot water cascaded down between them, running over his cock and between her thighs. Myquelle closed her eyes to let her head rest on his shoulder and found her lips drawn to his neck, kissing and nipping under his chin. The muscles in his back tightened under her hands as he ground his cock against her.

She pushed her hand between them and wrapped her fingers around the shaft, pushing it down, trying to press it to her pussy. Her hand trembled as she squeezed him. Marcus groaned and put his hands on her shoulders and turned her back to the spray. He smiled at the puzzled look on her face and flipped the vinyl bench down from the wall.

"You came here for a shower, didn't you?"

Myquelle leaned against the bench with her hands flat. She felt her knees shake as she turned to look up at him, but could only nod. One hand held her left shoulder firmly while the other slid down her back. His fingertips were rough, but strong. Myquelle had stepped under the water with a vague fantasy of showing Marcus something new, but now, he had taken control. The hand on her shoulder was comforting and made her want to close her eyes, but the other hand worried her, making it harder to breathe, the lower it went. When his hand slipped past her waist and made a slow circle over both cheeks, her chin dropped to her chest, holding her teeth clenched tight. She could barely hear him speak above the roar of the water.

"Ahh, this is so nice, so sweet," Marcus mused. Myquelle's dark skin was shiny under the splash and the dim lights of the shower room, which made her curves sharp and crisp. Marcus pressed his fingers into the cleft of her ass, catching the water running down her back, forcing it to wash over her anus and between her thighs. Myquelle squealed at the shock and jumped, spreading her feet apart. She could hear him chuckle well enough when he pulled his hands away from her.

"Tell me something, Miss first black woman I was ever with, has a man ever given you a bath? A really thorough bath?" Myquelle sighed, arched her spine to push her ass back, and swayed slowly.

"Not like this. I think you're making this special."

"It's gonna be real special," he said, as he rubbed a bar of soap into the cloth and wiped it over the back of her neck. Myquelle's head rocked back at his touch and she moaned as he scrubbed across her shoulder blades. Pale suds ran from the cloth and formed a delta of lather at the cleft of her ass. His fingers were slick with soap and slipped easily between her cheeks, pulling the cloth over her anus. Myquelle shuddered at the touch. Marcus tossed the cloth on the bench and ran his fingers over the tight pucker.

"Oh, no, no," she gasped. Marcus stepped behind her, blocking the spray and cupped her ass in his hands, raising the globes and feeling their weight.

"Don't tell me. Do I have a bottom shy girl in here with me?" His finger tips stroked her anus again and pressed gently.

"What are you going to do?" Myquelle asked, with a frantic voice. Marcus responded with an evil laugh.

"Baby, I'm just giving you a shower," he said and picked up the cloth again. He pushed the cloth between her spread thighs and slid it down the inside of her leg and up the other. "I have to scrub you nice and clean."

Myquelle started to tremble again as his bare hand ran up the inside of her thigh and pressed against her pussy. Her back arched, trying to push her ass back at him. She held her breath, waiting to feel a finger slip inside her, but he just stroked gently.

"You are so soft and smooth." The tease of his hands and voice was pushing everything from her mind but a desire to turn around and bury her face in his chest, kissing and biting at whatever she could catch in her teeth.

Marcus stood up straight and said, "Turn around, Baby, let me do the rest." Myquelle pushed up from the bench and spun around.

"You gonna get it now," she said hoarsely as the shower spray hit her in the face. Myquelle closed her eyes, smacked her face against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She burrowed in the thick matted hair until she found his left nipple and ran the flat of her tongue over it, rubbing her breasts and belly against him. She sucked it between her teeth, eliciting a groan.

Myquelle tried to push him against the wall, but it was like pushing a tree. He crouched slightly and cupped her ass in his hands again. His shoulders stiffened and her feet rose off the floor. She slid up his chest until they were face to face, her mouth open in amazement. No man had ever picked her up with so little effort.

"What is it, I'm gonna get?" he smiled. Myquelle squirmed to pull her legs up around his waist, but they were too slick. She kicked at the air and fell away from him, clutching the back of his neck tight. Fine spray bounced over his shoulders and coated her face, cooling it a bit, making the rest of her body feel very hot. Marcus gave her a bounce and she locked her ankles behind him. His cock pressed her slit as she flexed her hips and ground against him.

Myquelle held as tight as she could, but kept slipping down until her ass rested on the bench. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him down for another kiss, her tongue pushing hard against his, forcing into his mouth. Marcus pushed back until her shoulders were against the wall. The spray beat on his back and rolled over his shoulders, dripping down on her. She pressed her hand flat to his stomach and slid between them, forcing Marcus back so his cock could slip down to her slit. She held it in her fist and looked up to Marcus's eyes. His face was tight and he was breathing through his teeth with a hiss.

"Now, baby, now you gonna get it,'' she said, pulling her hand free and goading him with her heels. Marcus's face went slack as he leaned forward and his cock slid inside her. They froze for a moment, her legs tight around his waist. Myquelle waited until she felt his shoulders relax, and began to slowly bear down on his cock. His eyes widened as an involuntary spasm went down his back, forcing him to jerk back and thrust into her again. One thrust followed another, his rhythm adjusting to Myquelle's contractions.

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bybronzeage© 15 comments/ 79531 views/ 29 favorites

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