I'd like to see you, but then again. That doesn't mean you mean that much to me. So, if I call you, don't make a fuss. Don't tell your friends about the two of us. I'm not in love."10CC
All was black. Darkness enveloped Alison, wrapping her in its sweet embrace.
Her eyes were shut yet that was not it. This room, this windowless vault she had entered, was black as night. Alison was in her happy place.
She’d never understood other people’s obsession with light. Artificial light. Stirring from slumber, the last thing she ever wanted was light. Better to let your eyes adjust slowly in semi-darkness or to rise with the morning light. But to switch on a light first thing in the morning. That was madness. Or worse still; a reason to commit murder.
And especially in this place. What was the point of light here? If she knew the room or house, Alison could walk around easily, find her way around in the dark. And she always knew where everything she needed was. Always in the same place or close enough that she could find it by touch.
The white noise of the water falling against the tiles blocked out all other sounds. The rainfall shower head oozed water. More a gentle patter than a cacophony of echoes. Better to meditate and lose oneself in. Not a force to be endured or a foe to be overcome. She was naked in a summer downpour.
Nothing like the showers of her youth. High pressure water blasted from the wall, trying vainly to overcome gravity to warm young shivering flesh.
Alison’s peace was interrupted by that memory. White tiles, echoes, water hissing from faucets, voices. Girls’ voices, talking, laughing, squealing, whispering. School sport, awkwardness, nudity, embarrassment, intrigues.
Alison was adamant that she hadn’t ever harboured any lesbian tendencies. As her body and those around her changed over her high school years, she had gone from shame and embarrassment to passive disinterest, then finally to indifference.
Embarrassment during those first few virgin shower sessions when school mandated that they wash after sport before returning to class. Horror at the thought of appearing naked in front of her classmates, as if she was the only one who had to do it. Wishing for some power outage or terrorist attack to save her from having to disrobe and then enter the showers. Averting her eyes like some pale ostrich hoping everyone else was as shy as she. Towel tightly tucked around her, she would slip her junior bra and undies off unseen, terrified that the towel would slip as she awkwardly wriggled out of her undergarments. Showering with her face to the wall as fast as she dared. One arm covering her breasts while her other hand cupped her genitals while she quickly recovered her towel.
It hadn’t taken long for her to overcome her fear of the showers. After the realisation that she couldn’t escape her fate and still attend school, Alison grew less anxious. First she undressed less self-consciously. Knowing that inevitably, someone would see something, Alison would strip with her back to her classmates but no longer try to hide. Still covering herself en route from the lockers -and she still did- she would uncover at the towel rack, taking care not to look directly at anyone else. Still showering with her face to the tiles.
But she had to look. She had to compare. She had to rate herself. She had to see if she was different. And then she noticed. Everyone was different. Big boobs, small bums, skinny legs, hairy, pimples, scars. No one was perfect. Not a single one of these awkward, gangly teenagers was perfect.
In the end, she barely noticed when she stopped caring. She never stopped looking, not entirely. But she no longer compared herself disfavourably to the others. If she “looked” now it was just because someone had wondered into her sight line or she was looking for someone to talk to. She even stopped facing the tiles.
Alison couldn’t put a date on when she stopped worrying, but she was sure it was when she had finally discovered boys.
Alison shook her head. “What a wasted opportunity,” she mused. All that naked, willing flesh just a few steps away. Seething with hormones and desperate to be touched. Touched in a way that only another girl-a women-knew how to touch. No teenage boys could have ever delivered the sensation her developing body craved. So many hands and fingers and tongues only inches away. Had they all been thinking like her?
Alison could feel the constant beat of the water against her back. A million tiny fingers massaging her skin as she leant against the tiled wall, musing about her unrealised lesbian fantasies. Fantasies that had increased as the years rolled by and the romance had left her marriage.
She’d never been a masturbator. Not since she’d been married, anyway. Marriage was supposed to be all wine and roses. Silk sheets and coffee on an imaginary terrace. But as the months and years rolled by and reality and children took hold, her only relief became an extra-long hot shower and her itchy trigger finger. At least in there she was alone. Alone in the darkness that protected her from reality. Alone for a few moments of fantasy, hoping reality could be kept at bay.
Alison’s mind began to wonder. Safe in the darkness and the heat of the shower, she began to imagine a better time. A time when she was young. A time when she had no responsibilities. A time when she could think of herself and what she wanted. A time when sex was a pleasure and not a chore.
She could feel herself getting turned on by the thought of a thousand imaginary lovers fulfilling her every desire. Alison’s hand began to wander down between her thighs. Another shower special en route to her moment of private pleasure. She was just inches away when a larger, stronger hand interrupted.
“I’ll get that,” Jeremy whispered into her ear.
He was right over her now, his chest pressing firmly against her back. His right index finger probing for the right spot, her gasps guiding him on. A slight fumble, then a correction. A steady rhythm.
Alison planted both hands firmly against the tiled wall. Jeremy’s left, joining them for purchase. She spread her legs wider, all thoughts now on her pleasure above all else. Around and around he went, his desire pressing against her ass.
Water gushed between them, warming but washing away all hope of penetration as it rinsed her sex away. Jeremy’s cheek brushed Alison’s searching for a kiss. She sucked air in and turned to kiss him.
“Let this never end!”
Alison suddenly felt no shame. She wasn’t a shy teenager hiding her body from her classmates. She was a woman. Beautiful, adorable, desired. Without permission or regret, she dropped her left her left arm and let her hand touch her thighs. Stroking upward, she momentarily thought about all those high school showers and then she plunged in.
Jeremy gently circled as Alison plunged in and out. Their rhythms meshing in a symphony of tempo, steadily rising in pursuit of her pleasure. She could feel his stiffness against her bum, eager for its own release regardless of its owner’s intentions.
“Should I let him in as a reward for his efforts?” she wondered. A sudden wave of pleasure crashed into her thoughts. “Fuck that,” she thought as she lost control, “it is me time!”
Alison let out a long, low, loud guttural moan that echoed off the tiles. It wasn’t like a porno most times, but every once in a while…
Her legs gave way, and she slowly slid down the wall. The warm water drenching her as she lay curled up on the tiles. She never wanted to move again. If the world ended, now, she would die content.
Alison opened an eye to regard Jeremy through the gloom of the darkened room. She could see everything well enough, but it was in greyish hues with the details turned down. He was standing there, regarding her, still erect. Every woman’s dream, she supposed.
She raised herself up to her knees as she drew herself toward him. She glanced about the shower, looking for any kind of lotion. Spotting what she was looking for, she looked him in the eye whilst she trickled the lotion down her finger.
“What are you planning on doing with that?” Jeremy asked, a slight quiver in his tone.
“Do you remember what I studied at university?” she said, the lotion still trickling down her hand.
“Yes, anatomy specifically.” Alison put the bottle down and positioned her in front of him.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Alison said, licking her lips and glancing at his cock while her hand worked its way between his thighs. “No good deed goes unpunished.”
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