Sports are something I love, but the sweat and the dirtiness that come with it are not something I necessarily enjoy. The cold shower feels so good after a long day of competition; the icy water flows over me, raising goosebumps all over my body. I hardly ever shower in sports halls, but right now it's perfect.
I hear a soft click through the muffling effect of the water - someone has opened the door. My first instinct is to grab for a towel; I'm not protected by the condensation a hot shower would bring, and if someone were to look over they would not simply see the vague outline of my figure, but the deep curve of my lower back, the muscles of my thighs, my full ass, the swell of my breasts.
But then you speak: "It's me."
For a moment my breath catches, and I'm not sure what to do - what I want to do. Then, as you step in front of the shower door and slowly open it, it's all clear. I step out of the shower, not bothering to towel off, and stand in front of you. You grin.
"Do I finally get to see that ass of yours now?"
I smile and slowly turn around, pulling my long, wet hair over one shoulder so you have an uninterrupted view of smooth pale skin, from my neck down to my buttocks. I raise my hands from my sides and rest them on my head, wrists crossed, and you can see the muscles of my back and shoulder blades working. I can feel your gaze resting on my ass, full and toned from my fitness training.
After a few seconds I murmur, "Do you like what you see?"
"Yeah," you reply, your voice slightly hoarse.
"Good," I say, turning around. As your gaze travels over the length of my body, I step forward and put a hand on your chest, pushing you not-so-gently backwards until you stop, one of the changing room benches preventing you from moving any further. I let my hand travel slowly down, brushing past the middle of your torso, until it rests on your belt. I slowly unbuckle it, then yank it free. My fingers work swiftly to free you of your jeans, and you assist me in removing your boxers. My hand travels back up to your chest.
"Sit." I push, hard, and you fall onto the bench.
I kneel down and push your legs even further apart than they are now. I meet your eyes and smile, slowly, teasingly. Your breath is already coming in quick, uneven puffs and you have no idea what's coming.
I bend my head and touch my lips to the inner thigh of your right leg. I kiss you gently, and start to work my way up, licking and kissing as I go. Just as I reach the top of your leg I break off, and start to unbutton your shirt. I push it off and then kiss down from your neck to your left nipple, circling my tongue slowly around it, nibbling gently at it before kissing it and beginning to work my way down again, down past your stomach, trailing kisses past your belly button, past the smooth skin directly below your abdomen. Finally my lips hover just above your shaft and I know what you want me to do.
I lower my head and begin kissing and licking your base, experimenting with short little licks, barely touching you, and wrapping my tongue all the way around you from the side. I lick my way up from the underside of your shaft, my tongue tracing a line up towards your head, following the vein there, feeling the throbbing sensation of your blood flowing under my lips, my own shallow breath warm on your skin.
When I get to your head I stop, pull back for a moment and smile at you. Your knuckles are white as your hands grip the bench beneath you; I can see the effort you're putting in not to move, not to come, not to cry out. I know you want it, though. But I may not let you have it that easy.
I flick my tongue over your tip, so lightly and quickly. Back and forth I let my tongue tease you, and eventually I lower my lips to kiss your head lovingly. As I do so you put a hand on the back of my neck and force me to take you in my mouth; you can't stand it any longer. You watch as I deepthroat you (a challenge due to your magnificent length), then tilt your head back in pleasure. I pull back and begin to slide my mouth up and down your shaft, slowly at first, then faster, applying greater pressure and sucking as I pull back. Occasionally you feel the touch of my teeth against your skin, but the pressure of my lips and the movement of my warm mouth distracts you, filling you up.
As I move my mouth ever faster, with one hand I reach around you to massage your buttock, and with the other I grasp your base firmly but gently. I could control you like this, but instead I just squeeze once, and then relax my grip. As you groan and cry out in pleasure, you come into my mouth and I swallow it all, licking you clean. Eventually your moans subside, and I pull back, kissing you lightly for the last time, then stand up and dress. I don't dress with my back to you (but who knows, you might have preferred it that way), and when we're both done I smile and lick my lips. You grin back.
"You owe me one," I say.
"Yeah, I do," you reply. A promise...