I know, I sound like a creep, but I'm really not. I wasn't planning to snap pictures of her with my phone or stand there masturbating while she showered, I just wanted to catch a glimpse of Brenda Robbins naked. For years, I have fantasized about her body, but now I had the chance to see the real thing! I would just sneak over to the shower room, take a quick peek, and then sneak back out to the gym. Mrs. Robbins would never know and I would have a more accurate image for my future fantasies. Nobody gets hurt, see?
I made my way across the locker room as quietly as possible, and stood outside the entrance to the showers, listening. The water continued to run and there was no sound of footsteps coming the other way. Moving my head an inch at a time, I slowly peered around the corner.
Brenda Robbins was standing under one of the shower heads, halfway down the room. Water cascaded down her naked body. She took my breath away. Literally. I tried to inhale and nothing happened.
Her breasts were even bigger than I had fantasized! I watched, mesmerized, as her enormous melons, wet and glistening , undulated under the touch of her fingers. Water ran in torrents down her shimmering blond hair and scattered into hundreds of droplets on her perfect ass. Her butt cheeks were as round as basket balls, and jiggled uncontrollably as she moved under the shower head. A familiar pressure was building in my pants.
I was so hypnotized by the sight in front of me, it was a moment before I noticed that Mrs. Robbins had begun squeezing her breasts with both hands The glossy flesh bulged between her fingers as she kneaded her swollen tits vigorously. At first I was a little confused by this, but just then, one of her hands slid down the front of her taut stomach and disappeared between her legs. Suddenly the realization hit me: Brenda Robbins was masturbating!
My cock was raging by now, but I didn't even notice. Brenda's fingers had plunged into her pussy and were moving rhythmically. With her free hand, she lifted a breast to her lips, and let her tongue run along its contour. Her fingers were moving faster and faster. Suddenly, her body went rigid and a low moan escaped her lips. A second later, her hand emerged from between her legs. She held her hand out for a minute, looking at her sopping fingers and then slipped them into her mouth! She smiled, a dreamy expression coming over her face.
My heart was pounding like I had just run in a marathon and my whole body felt like it was on fire. Somewhere in the back of my head, a little voice was telling me I should go now. But Brenda Robbins wasn't done yet. Reaching behind her, she let her hand glide along the surface of her flawless bubble butt. It lingered there momentarily, before vanishing between her ample butt cheeks. Her ass began to jiggle with movement. Was Mrs. Robbins getting herself off... anally? Unbelievable!
She arched her back and her breasts began to heave and roll on her chest as the movements became more vigorous. A strangled cry burst from her lips as fluid began spurting from her gaping pussy. Was she ejaculating? This was too much!
I knew what female ejaculation was. I had seen it in porn before, but I was never sure if it was real, or just a special effect for the video. Each of my friends claimed to know a girl who ejaculated (only when she had sex with them, of course), but somehow I had never really believed that it happened to real people. At least, not people that I knew.
Brenda was leaning forward now, with her hands resting on her knees. Was she catching her breath too? She stood there, not moving, letting the water from the shower splash against her shoulders and run down her back.
Just then, I noticed my hand was on my zipper, slowly pulling it down. I jerked it back, as if I had touched a hot stove. I'm not a creep, remember? Okay, I had seen enough. More than enough, really. It was time to get out of here!
***
I was just turning to leave, when suddenly, my phone started ringing. Stupid! I should have turned the ringer off before I came in here! My ringtone isn't particularly loud, but in that empty locker room it might as well have been the fire alarm.
The water stopped.
“Is someone there?” Mrs. Robbins' voice called.
I sprinted past the rows of lockers, looking over my shoulder for any sign of Brenda Robbins emerging from the shower room. Yes, I know, any baseball player will tell you that looking back when your running is a bad idea, but excuse me if I wasn't thinking about baseball right then. I was still looking behind as I rounded the corner of the last row of lockers, and didn't see the lacrosse stick protruding from under a row of benches. The net caught on my foot as I passed, and sent me sprawling to the floor. I had barely gotten myself untangled from the errant lacrosse stick, when Mrs. Robbins appeared from behind the lockers.
She looked very much like she did in my pizza boy fantasy: the wet tousled hair running down her shoulders onto the tops of her swollen breasts, the flimsy towel clinging impossibly to her curves. But there was nothing sexy about this situation.
“Jason?” she said, with a look of surprise on her face.
“H-hey Mrs. Robbins.” I stammered, stupidly.
Her brows furrowed and there was an edge to her voice. “What are you doing in here, Jason?”
I had to think fast.
“
