An Encounter in the Changing Room

It had been a long day. I teach sports to disinterested teens at a Greater London school, and it’s hard work. Today, I’d spent two hours coaching the rugby team after the end of the normal school day, then another thirty minutes tidying up the mess. Now, as the time ticked toward seven o’clock, I decided to hit the showers before heading home.

At this time of day the school was practically empty. All the kids had long gone, and so had the teachers. The cleaners had been in already, so I was probably the only person left on site. I headed for the locker room, stripped off, and jumped into the shower.

I didn’t hurry, letting the hot water wash away the aches of the day. Then I heard the door swing open and a woman’s voice said, “Mr Brown? Are you in here? It’s Miss Jacobs.”

“I’m in the shower,” I replied, somewhat annoyed to have been interrupted. “Out in five.” The door closed and I turned to lean against the wall with my head tilted forward under the water. My thoughts were inevitably dragged to Miss Jacobs. She was about thirty, slim, brunette, pretty and very sexy. Art teachers always were, somehow. Just the thought of her was enough to harden my cock.

“Oh, Mr Brown,” said Miss Jacobs for a distance of a few metres.

“Gngh,” I managed, eyes snapping open. My feet skidded on the floor as I flailed around and I almost slipped over. Had she seen my hard-on? I twisted to peer over my shoulder. She was standing at the edge of the changing room, leaning casually against a locker. She had an expression of mock outrage on her face, hands at her cheeks as she pretended to be embarrassed by my nudity.

“This is the men’s changing room,” I snapped as if she didn’t know. She grinned, giving up on her fake outrage, and checked out my arse. I couldn’t turn to hide it without exposing my cock. Tricky. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Why don’t you wait outside?”

“I’m an art teacher,” she said cryptically. “We’re not supposed to follow the rules. I hope you don’t think I’m too forward, but I need a shower. Do you mind if I use that one over here?” she said, pointing at the showers opposite the one I was using.

“If you wait till I finish, sure, or there’s a whole other room for ladies,” I said angrily, “so why don’t–” I stopped. She was unbuttoning her blouse. “This isn’t appropriate, Miss Jacobs,” I reminded her as she hung her blouse on the pegs above a bench. I turned quickly back at the wall when she went to unfasten her bra and tried to concentrate on the tiles. “Wouldn’t you be happier next door?”

“Why? It’s not like there are any students here, and we’re both adults. Surely it isn’t a problem if we are, quite independently, taking showers?”

I’d have been able to think of quite a few problems if I could concentrate, but somehow the thought of her naked body drove away all rational thought, replacing it with simple lust. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and focused on non-sexual thoughts.

“Well, no, I suppose not,” I managed to say, “but if anyone sees us…”

“Why would they?” There was a rustle that could only have been her skirt, then an noise that must have been a pair of knickers being removed. Bare feet padded across the tiled floor. “And who could complain about two adults taking showers?” A second shower came on and I opened my eyes. Maybe I could get through this with a casual, carefree attitude.

Newly resolved, I stood up straight and looked for my shampoo. It was behind me, I remembered, on the wall that ran down the middle of the room and divided the two banks of showers. Fuck. My towel was on a peg beneath the shampoo, so also couldn’t be reached without compromising our respective modesty. I was stuck here till she left.

“You can turn around, you know,” she said conversationally, as if naked co-ed showers were an everyday occurrence. “I’m not shy, and I promise I won’t peek.”

I took a few more deep breaths. My cock had deflated enough that it wasn’t going to be an embarrassment, so I turned around to reach for my shampoo. Miss Jacobs was under the shower on the far side of the room, head back, hands in her hair, eyes closed. The wall between us was high enough only to hide her from the waist down, and only if I stayed under the shower. It did nothing to obscure her breasts, and I couldn’t help staring as the water dripped off her nipples and ran down her sides. She was every bit as gorgeous in the flesh as in my imagination.

Then she lowered her hands and opened her eyes. “This feels so good after a long day at the coalface. Do you often shower before you go home?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. I took half a step forward and snatched at the shampoo on the wall, but in my haste I sent it tumbling away onto her side. She bent to pick it up, hesitated for a few seconds as if an idea had just struck, then she flicked open the cap and poured shampoo into her hand. Then, eyes, locked on mine, she lowered her hand out of sight and began to rub back and forth. Her nipples were erect, sitting proudly above taut breasts, and even though I couldn’t see what she was doing, exactly, I recognised the signs. I watched, mouth open, and she seemed to enjoy my attention.

“Are you–” I said before swallowing, hardly able to get the words out. “Are you masturbating?”

“That, Mr Brown,” she said slowly as her left arm continued its movements, “is a very personal…ah… question.” Her free hand cupped a breast and I might have let out a little whimper of desire.

“I always…woah…like to have…a clean pussy,” she managed to say between moans, “just in case…of opportunities.” Her eyes closed and she smiled, then her boobs bounced as a spasm ran through her. Her movements slowed and stopped, then her eyes opened and she ran her hands through her hair. She let out a happy sigh. “And to answer your question, no,” she said brightly. “I’ve finished.”

I was astonished. I don’t think I could have been more surprised if a troupe of clowns had paraded through the changing rooms with a camel in tow. I stared for longer than was comfortable, then cleared my throat and looked away.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Maybe you should ask yourself why I, an attractive single woman barely into her thirties, would seek you out in the changing rooms, undress in full view, then wank in front of you. Any ideas?”

My mind raced but the obvious answer – that she was signalling her attraction – seemed so utterly implausible that I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “You didn’t exactly undress in full view…” I said meekly.

“Only because you turned away,” she said pointedly, “and I didn’t ask you to do that, did I?”

“Well, no,” I admitted, “but I could hardly watch you undress.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I think you could. Do you want to see me naked?” I nodded. “Then why don’t you come and take a look?”

“Miss Jacobs,” I began, but my feeble objection curled up and died under the weight of her gaze.

“Under the circumstances, I think you can call me Jane,” she said.

“Ok, thank you, yes,” I said with a nod. I couldn’t think of anything else to do except step forward to the wall. I rested my elbows on the top and, with my cock hard against the tiles, leaned over to look her up and down, gaze lingering on her neatly trimmed pubic hair. She walked a few paces, turned, and strutted back like a model. She really was lovely.

“You were right, Jane,” I said with a grin. “I really did want to see you naked. Thank you, and please allow me to apologise for my earlier surliness.” I cleared my throat again. It felt like the time had come for me to reciprocate. “Was there anything you still wanted to see?” I asked innocently.

She gave me a most lascivious grin and glanced meaningfully at my crotch, still hidden behind the wall.

“Oh, do you want to take a look at my cock?”

“Well yes, Colin, yes, I do,” she said hoarsely. She licked her lips. “Look, touch, suck, and more.”

I hesitated a few more seconds, but where was I going to get a better offer? I stepped around the wall to the open area between showers and changing room. My cock stood tall, a magnificent erection that, I felt sure, would be of real interest to Miss Jacobs. Jane, I mentally corrected. “Well?”

She stared. One hand drifted to her pussy and the other to her chest before she remembered herself and snatched them away, forcing them to her sides. She looked me in the eyes and I could see her lust.

“I’m really very wet,” she said huskily.

“Well, you’re under the shower,” I said, but we both knew that wasn’t what she meant.

She stared again at my crotch. “Either we fuck right now,” she said, voice only just audible above the showers, “or I’m going to rub another one out while you stand there and you’ll lose your opportunity.” Her stance shifted, her legs parted and her hand moved to her pussy. She began to wank before I could say anything.

I took a step closer. She backed off till she was against the wall, water flooding over her, and I shuffled closer still. There was half a metre between us when I reached out and put my hands on her shoulders. I cupped her face and leaned forward to kiss her. She angled upwards, hungrily receiving my kiss. Fingers wrapped around my cock, a hand on my arse pulled us together, and I felt her guide me to the entrance to her vagina.

“That’s it, right there,” said Jane. I pressed forward and felt her warm slickness engulf my cock.

“So wet,” I murmured. She lifted one foot off the ground and wrapped her leg around mine. We stood for a moment like a couple of horny teenagers, water cascading over us, then I eased back. I paused, determined to make it last, then thrust forward, burying myself inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” she said. She flung her arms around my neck and hung on as I pushed her against the wall and began to work back and forth. Her skin was slick against mine, her breasts pressed to my chest, her cunt hot and wet. She kissed my neck as I thrust into her then whispered, “That’s it, do me, fucking do me!”

I was happy to oblige. My world had shrunk to the feel of her flesh against mine, of my cock inside her, of her weight on my hips. I wanted more.

“On the floor,” I hissed, sliding out. I kissed her neck again and caressed her breasts then put my hands on her hips and pressed gently downward. “On your knees.”

She folded at the knees and sank down, kissing my abdomen then taking my cock into her mouth. I groaned as her lips engulfed me but it wasn’t a blowjob I needed. I bent slightly so I could push her away, then lowered myself to join her.

“Turn around, hands and knees,” I said, and this time she understood what I wanted. She moved to face away from me and folded to the wet tiles, arse raised.

“Well?” she said seductively. ”Is this what you want?”

It was exactly what I wanted. I knelt down and reached between her legs to stroke her slit. She moaned. I positioned my cock, one hand on her hip, then pressed forward into her cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” she said. I put both hands on her hips as she lowered her head to the tiles, resting it on her folded arms. I pulled slowly back then drove forward. She moaned again, and I began a slow, rhythmic pumping action that grew faster and more urgent as her cries grew louder.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said in time to my thrusts. “Fuck, yes, I’m going to come.” She shuddered and twitched as she climaxed. My own moment was fast approaching, and now I thrust like a madman, our flesh slapping together.

“I’m gonna come,” I said, hands still clamped on her hips.

“Do it, come inside me. Keep going, yes, yes!”

She trembled and gasped as she came again, then my moment finally arrived.

“Yes, yes,” I cried, forgoing originality in service of my need. I stroked away until I was entirely spent, then I sat back on the floor. Jane rolled over and sat under the shower, leaning back on her hands, legs apart and knees raised. She laughed and smiled then swept her hair from her face.

“That was a fun way to get acquainted,” she said. “Fancy a drink? Maybe we would get to know one another before we go another round…”

If you enjoyed this story you should check out my other work, like More than a Massage or Meeting the New Neighbour.