The Redhead from the Locker Room Taught Me a Lesson
With forty degrees in the shade and a public swimming pool five minutes away on foot, who could resist going down for a cool-off? I was home alone, bored stiff, so I grabbed the essentials: a towel over my shoulder, a tank top, my swimsuit, and my keys. Nothing else.
I arrived sweating like an animal and paid the entrance fee without looking at anyone. The pool is small and pretty run-down, which is why it’s almost always empty. People prefer the one in the neighboring town, which is bigger and even has a slide. That afternoon there was only a bored lifeguard in her high chair and two women around my age—about forty—lying in the sun.
I took off my shirt and dove in. The water wasn’t as cold as I’d expected, but it felt good. I swam a few lengths, leaned against a corner where the shade fell, and stayed there, relaxed, in the water, watching the two neighbors out of the corner of my eye and imagining things I really am going to write: the one in the red bikini had huge tits spilling out to the sides and a swollen cunt showing beneath the wet fabric, and I was already imagining spreading her legs and burying my tongue right there until I made her scream.
I know what I am. I like looking. I’ve been going down to that pool for years precisely because it’s empty and because, when someone is there, I can quietly jerk off in my head from my corner without anyone noticing. Or so I thought.
Suddenly, a chorus of female voices pulled me out of my fantasies. I turned and saw a group of four young women coming in, all in their late twenties or thirties, laughing among themselves. They had just come from work, I assumed, because they were talking about a shift that had seemed endless.
Good God. I may be a shameless bastard, but they were all incredibly well-built. Especially one redhead with very pale skin who left my mouth dry when she took off her dress. The pistachio-green bikini she wore showed every curve without an ounce of modesty, tight as a second skin: her tits squeezed against the triangle of fabric, her nipples visibly hard beneath it, and the crotch digging into her cunt with a perfect line outlined for everyone to see.
I stared at her tits and the bulge between her legs longer than I should have. Long enough for her to look up and pin me with two green eyes that seemed like blades. I pretended not to notice by ducking underwater and swimming from one side to the other, trying to think of something else. Calm down, don’t be an idiot, or you’re going to get hard.
The four of them jumped into the water amid gales of laughter and started fooling around as if I didn’t exist. The redhead swam and submerged herself right in front of me, and every time she lifted her ass out of the water, her bikini wedged itself between her buttocks; every time she floated on her back, her tits rose with her nipples poking through the wet fabric. My cock went hard as a rock inside my swimsuit.
I decided to get out of the water before things went any further. But when I stood up, I noticed the disaster: a championship erection lifting my swimsuit like a tent, the tip of my glans outlined against the fabric. I turned quickly to see whether anyone had noticed and came face-to-face with the redhead’s gaze. This time she didn’t look away. She fixed her eyes on the bulge and gave me a crooked smile, licking her lip.
Shit. I looked for an escape. The locker room was nearby, so I went to hide in there and see whether I could get my cock to go down before collecting my things and heading home with my tail between my legs—literally, for once.
I locked myself in one of the stalls, planted my hands against the tiled wall, and looked down in desperation. My cock was sticking above the elastic, red and glistening at the tip with fluid. What the hell do I do now? This thing isn’t going down for anything. I grabbed it with my right hand and started pounding it while thinking about the redhead on her knees sucking me off, when I heard a locker-room door slam. Voices. Suppressed laughter. I let go halfway through, without finishing, and decided to get out as quickly as possible, grab my things, and disappear before anyone put two and two together.
I opened the door, and there she was. The redhead, hands on her hips, her green bikini still dripping, planted in the middle of the corridor as if she owned the place.
“So you were going to jerk off, were you?” she said, looking at the bulge in my swimsuit with a calmness more frightening than any shout. “Show me your cock, peeper.”
I shook my head, unable to form a word, and made as if to walk past her. Then she snapped her fingers, and two of her friends came out from behind the lockers and grabbed me, one by each arm.
“What are you doing? Let me go,” I said, looking from side to side at the two women holding me with unexpected strength.
I could feel their wet tits pressed against my arms and, absurd as it may seem in that situation, my cock gave another twitch, and I didn’t dare move. The redhead approached slowly, never taking her eyes off the bulge the fabric continued to betray.
“If you won’t show it to me nicely, it’ll be the hard way,” she said.
Before I could answer, she raised her knee and delivered a dry, precise blow straight to my balls. Pain shot from my stomach to my throat. My legs folded inward, and I fell onto the cold tile floor while the three women’s laughter distorted in my ears.
“Easy, peeper,” she said, crouching down to my level. “You wanted a show. Well, you’re going to get a show.”
Taking advantage of the fact that I could barely stand, the three of them hauled me up and sat me astride one of the locker-room benches, one leg on each side, so that my own weight pressed my balls against the wood. They yanked off my swimsuit, and my cock sprang into the open, still half-hard, throbbing in full view of them all. The one who had taken me to the bench was a broad-shouldered brunette who moved like someone who had done this before.
“Look at the cock the poor thing brought along,” said the short blonde with the cruel smile, grabbing it between two fingers as if picking up something filthy and shaking it up and down amid peals of laughter. “And it gets hard after just two strokes. What a pervert.”
One of them sat behind me and covered my mouth with her hand. Despite the pain, I felt her hard tits pressed against my back, her nipples digging between my shoulder blades through the wet bikini fabric. I had no strength for anything. I only wanted it to end. And at the same time, my cock wouldn’t go soft.
Meanwhile, the redhead had taken off her bikini top—revealing two white, round tits with pink nipples pointing straight ahead—and used it to tie my wrists to the wooden bench with a skill that left me breathless. She threaded the strap between the slats and tightened it until I was immobilized against the seat, unable to get up, my stiff cock pointing at the ceiling and my balls crushed against the edge of the bench.
“Stay still,” she whispered in my ear, then licked my earlobe with the tip of her tongue. “If you behave, I might let you go in one piece.”
The blonde took off one of her flip-flops and started smacking my legs, lower belly, and balls with the sole, quick, dry blows that, if not for the hand covering my mouth, would have echoed throughout the pool. Each impact sent a jolt through me that arched my back, and yet my cock still didn’t go down: it bounced with every smack, lashing against my own navel.
“Look at it, look how it moves,” the brunette laughed, pointing at my cock dancing with every blow. “She hits it and it gets harder. He’s disgusting.”
When the blonde grew tired, she stepped away with a satisfied smile on her lips. My skin burned, red marks were beginning to appear, and I breathed in ragged gasps against the palm silencing me, my cock harder than it had ever been and a thick drop of pre-cum sliding down my glans to the shaft.
It was the redhead’s turn. She positioned herself with her back to me, one leg on each side of the bench, offering me a view of her firm white ass, her buttocks split by the green thong wedged into the cleft—something I would have enjoyed under any other circumstances. She lowered her panties beneath her buttocks just enough to bare her cunt—a redheaded cunt with thick lips shining with moisture—and dropped onto my lap, crushing my cock against my belly beneath the weight of her hot ass. She began moving back and forth, rubbing the cleft of her ass along my shaft and crushing my balls against the wood with every sway of her hips.
Her movements were blatantly sensual, and yet it was the worst punishment of the afternoon. I could feel her wet cunt opening against my cock, her hot lips sliding up and down my shaft without ever letting me enter, while her weight ground my balls against the bench. I began sweating profusely. Pain and the urge to come tangled into an unbearable knot at the mouth of my stomach. After a few more rocking motions, she stood and turned around with a smile, her cunt glistening and a thread of moisture hanging between her thighs.
“Did you see that, girls?” she said, pointing at my cock, still stiff and now soaked with her juices. “Look at his face. I think he still likes it. He’s dripping.”
“Well, try it and see,” commented the one holding me from behind, without uncovering my mouth. “Take him to a handjob until he comes, and maybe he’ll learn.”
The redhead sat down again, this time facing me, her legs spread and her reddish cunt a handspan from my cock, and took my shaft in her entire right hand. She began sliding her hand up and down the length with calculated slowness, squeezing the glans whenever she reached the top and twisting her palm around it as if wringing out a piece of fruit. Little by little, against all logic, my body responded fully: my cock swelled even more, my balls drew up tight against my body, and I felt the tingling at the base that announces there’s no turning back. She noticed and sped up her hand in that torture somewhere between pleasure and agony.
“Well, look at you,” she said, amused, without stopping her stroking. “In the end, it turns out the peeper enjoys it. Come on, tell me you want to come, you filthy bastard. Say it with your mouth covered and everything.”
I moaned against the other woman’s hand, unable to say anything, thrusting my hips to force more of my cock into her fist. The redhead bent down and spat a thick gob right onto the tip of my glans, then used the saliva to slide her hand faster, making a wet, obscene sound that echoed among the tiles.
“Listen to yourself, peeper. Listen to the sound your cock makes splashing,” she whispered. “Your neighbors are going to hear this.”
She pulled my head against her tits and crushed my face into her hard nipples while continuing to jerk me with her other hand, faster and faster, her wrist twisting at the tip with every pump. I panted helplessly, my mouth open against her salty skin, my tongue poking out involuntarily to suck the pink nipple moving in front of me. My whole body trembled. I no longer knew whether what I felt was pain, pleasure, or both fused into a single sensation.
“He’s going to come, he’s going to come,” said the brunette, her voice thick with excitement. “Look at his balls—they’ve pulled all the way up.”
I felt myself nearing the limit, held back only by the tie pressing me against the wood and by my desire to hold out one second longer. The redhead sensed it and squeezed her fingers just beneath the glans, forming a ring, while her other hand began jerking my shaft at full speed. Then, at exactly the right moment, she undid the knot of her bikini from my wrists, and the orgasm surged through me mercilessly. I let out a muffled growl against her tits and came in jets: the first shot flew far and spattered her belly and one tit; the second landed on her hand and ran between her fingers; the third and fourth hung from my glans in white strings, which she gathered with two fingers and smeared all over my cock and balls, now empty and still throbbing with the last pulses of orgasm.
“Good job, peeper,” she said, wiping her semen-covered hand across my chest with a smile, spreading it over my nipples. “I hope you learned something. Next time, jerk off while looking at yourself in the mirror.”
She retied her bikini top with infuriating calm and, without another word, the three of them hurried out of the locker room, leaving me there tied up and panting, my cock still dripping semen onto the wood and my legs stained with my own cum.
***
I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn’t respond. I managed to undo the tie and, with enormous effort, got to my feet with a buzzing in my head and an ache in my balls that kept me from thinking.
Suddenly, the locker-room door flew open, and the lifeguard stormed in, furious. She looked me up and down, paused for a moment at my dangling, sticky cock, and twisted her mouth with a mixture of disgust and anger.
“The girls were right!” she roared. “You disgusting pig—look at you, covered in milk!” Without saying anything else, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me toward the exit, meeting no resistance from me whatsoever.
She dragged me out into the sunlight, stark naked, my cock still red and glistening with moisture, in full view of the four women and the two neighbors lying nearby, who had come over when they heard the commotion. There I stood, exposed and humiliated, not knowing where to hide.
One of the neighbors, the less friendly of the two, approached and shoved me to the ground amid insults, calling me a pervert, a filthy horny bastard, and a couple of things worse. The young women laughed and pointed at my cock as if it were a circus act. The lifeguard watched me with her arms crossed, satisfied.
Then the other neighbor, the one in the red bikini—the one who had seemed more sensible to me—crouched beside me with a gentle expression, her tits showing through the swimsuit’s neckline a handspan from my face.
“Are you all right?” she asked sweetly.
I looked at her, thinking that at last there was someone sane in that madness. I nodded faintly, unable to stop staring at her cleavage and the way her nipples showed beneath the wet fabric.
“What a shame,” she said suddenly, sweetness turning to ice, and her hand shot to my balls and squeezed hard, twisting them between her fingers. “You should be ashamed of looking at my tits after what you just did, you filthy pervert.”
“That’s it, Carla, give him what he deserves,” her friend encouraged her. “Squeeze him there, the peeper. Let’s see if that gets rid of his urge to pull his cock out in public.”
The woman called Carla didn’t let go of my balls. She pulled them upward to force me to follow her, and every time I threatened to fall, she squeezed harder, making me take another tiptoe step. She led me like that, by the balls, all the way around the edge of the pool to the street door while the others applauded and whistled.
“If I see you around here again, I’ll tie them in a bow tie,” she said, giving me one last squeeze that doubled me over, followed by a shove that left me on my knees in the middle of the sidewalk, naked, my cock hanging and my dignity in ruins.
When I could finally half stand, I saw the redhead come out for a moment. She threw me my towel and backpack, but kept the swimsuit in her hand and raised it to her nose, smelling it with her eyes closed and smiling.
“I’m keeping this as a souvenir—it smells like semen,” she said. Then she put two fingers in her mouth, sucked them slowly, bit her lower lip, and blew me a mocking kiss before turning around and going back into the pool, swaying her hips, her pert ass dancing beneath the bikini, leaving me sprawled there with the most painful balls I had ever felt in my life.
I covered myself as best I could with the towel and dragged myself home through the burning streets, hunched over and looking at the ground, my sore cock rubbing against the damp towel with every step. I’m never going back to that pool.
And yet, as I climbed the stairs to my building, every step making my balls ache, I was already getting hard again thinking about the redhead, her hand covered in my cum, her smiling mouth. The moment I got home, I threw myself onto the bed and jerked off harder than I ever had in my life, imagining that next time I would be the one tying her up and burying my cock deep inside her redheaded cunt until I made her beg. I know. I’m a lost cause. But that afternoon I learned something I’ll never forget: sometimes the one who watches ends up being the show, and discovers that he likes it.
