The Girl from the Club Followed Me to the Showers

What I’m going to tell you happened a few weeks ago, and I’m still surprised by how fast everything unfolded. Near my house there’s a sports club with several different activities. My husband and I have been members for years, and we go together to play tennis on Saturday mornings. Since I have free time during the week, I decided to sign up on Wednesdays too so I could train on my own.

One of the advantages of being a member is that the pool is free on Wednesdays, because there are no swimming lessons until the afternoon. I love jumping in for a while after the tennis court. The cold water takes away the fatigue and, above all, leaves me in a strange mood, as if my body were more awake than my head.

For a couple of months I had noticed something curious. A girl more or less my age was always around on Wednesdays at the same time as me, and she kept looking at me. It wasn’t the look of someone who sees you and moves on. It was a long look, with little smiles, almost shy, that would peek out whenever our eyes met. At first I thought I was imagining it, but the coincidence repeated itself so many times that I ended up convincing myself it wasn’t chance.

“Maybe she likes you,” Damian told me when I mentioned it to him one night.

Damián is my husband. I took it as a joke, gave him a shove in the shoulder, and laughed.

“Impossible. She’s a girl. And I’ve never been with one.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “If one day you feel like finding out, do it. And if afterward you want to invite her home, you know I’m available.”

Our relationship is complicated. No need to go into details now, but by then I was already more curious than offended. The idea that that girl was watching me had put a new, strange tingling in me, one that wouldn’t quite go away.

The following Wednesday I decided to find out. This time I didn’t work out first. I got to the club around eleven-thirty, changed quickly, and went straight to the pool. I knew she always showed up around then.

It took less than five minutes. She arrived in a white beach dress, which she took off in front of me without looking at me, revealing a tiny coral-colored bikini. This time I allowed myself to watch her calmly. She had small breasts, a round ass, firm thighs. She was dark-haired, with long curly hair falling down her back, and tanned skin that seemed to beg to be touched.

I acted distracted and stood up a few steps away from her. Under my shorts I was wearing a yellow string thong and a sheer triangle bra. When I pulled my shorts down, I did it slowly. When I took off my blouse, I did it even more slowly. Then I turned to grab the sunscreen and, when I bent over, I caught her staring at my ass without hiding it.

She reacted late. Color rushed to her face and she blurted out the first thing she could think of.

“It’s insanely sunny,” she said, trying to sound natural.

“Very,” I replied. “But a dip fixes everything. Want to join me?”

She stood up so fast she almost tripped. The pool was practically empty at that hour; the staff weren’t around yet, because swimming lessons didn’t start until two. I headed for the shallow end and she followed me.

For a while we pretended we were only cooling off. We splashed around, talked nonsense, laughed. But I made sure my body was always in her line of sight. When I bent to wet my hair, I turned my back to her. When I floated on my back, I brushed my arm against hers.

Without either of us saying it, the distance between us kept shrinking. At some point we were so close that her hands ended up on my waist, under the water. She didn’t take them away. I didn’t pull back either.

“You’re very pretty,” she told me, no longer looking around.

“You’re no slouch yourself, beautiful.”

Her finger slid up the side of my breast and stopped just before the nipple. I saw her hesitate. I didn’t want her to hesitate. I took her hand and placed it on my bra. My whole skin prickled at the gesture.

“What lovely breasts you have,” she murmured.

“Do you like them?”

“A lot.”

“Do you want to kiss them?”

She looked around.

“Someone could see us here.”

“Don’t be scared.” I brushed a wet lock behind her ear. “Start slow.”

She leaned in. She slid the triangle of my bra aside with two fingers and grazed my nipple with the tip of her tongue. Then she sucked it, first gently, then with more confidence. I felt the cold of the water opposing the heat rising from my belly. It took everything in me not to moan out loud.

Her free hand slid down my waist and between my legs. She rubbed me over the thong with a flat finger, not pressing, just letting me know she was there. My cunt was already wet with more than pool water.

“I don’t want to seem boring,” she said, pulling back a little, “but I’m scared someone will show up.”

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

“The showers?”

I nodded. We got out of the water, gathered our things, and walked toward the shower area wrapped in towels. The corridor was empty. The showers were too. As soon as we closed the main changing-room door, she shoved me against the tiles and kissed me for real for the first time.

It was a long kiss, with tongue, with teeth. She grabbed my ass with both hands and pressed me against her. My towel fell to the floor. Hers did too. We were left almost naked, just with our soaked bikinis plastered to our bodies.

I took her bra off. She took mine off. Her breasts were small, perfect, with dark hard nipples. I ran my tongue over one and felt her shiver. Her hands went back to my thong and pulled it down in one motion. Hers fell to the floor just as easily.

We were both completely naked under the white changing-room light. The cold tiles. The damp air. The smell of chlorine mixed with her perfume.

I gently pushed her toward one of the long benches and sat her down. I placed my hands on her hips and laid her back until she was stretched out, legs open and feet braced on the edge. When I knelt between her thighs, I saw her cunt completely shaved, the lips shining, the entrance pulsing.

I gathered my hair with one hand and lowered my face. I licked her from bottom to top, slow, and heard her let out a sigh that sounded like it had been held back for hours. I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, not touching it fully, until her hips lifted on their own, searching for my mouth.

“You taste so good,” I told her against her. “You taste like summer.”

I slipped my tongue between her lips and moved it inside, slowly. Her hands clutched the edge of the bench. I slid a couple of fingers up her thigh and pushed them into her entrance while I kept sucking her clit. She started moaning softly, biting the palm of her other hand so she wouldn’t make noise.

“I’m such a little slut,” she murmured. “I’m your little slut, tell me yes.”

“You’re my little slut,” I told her without stopping licking her.

Before she came, she sat up. She asked me to wait and stood. I thought she’d changed her mind, but I saw her go to her bag and take out a hairbrush. A long one, the kind with a round, smooth handle, hard plastic.

“Do you mind if I put it in you?” she asked, showing it to me.

The end of the handle was just the right thickness. I laughed.

“Ask me with that face and I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

She made me put my hands on the bench and lift my ass. She spread my legs with her feet and knelt behind me. First I felt her tongue between my ass cheeks, then her mouth against my sex, licking me from back to front. After she’d been at it a while, I felt the smooth tip of the handle enter me, slowly.

I let out a moan that surprised even me. The plastic was cold and hard, and it went in easily because I was soaking wet. She moved it in rhythm while she sucked me at the same time. Her fingers dug into my hip.

I felt completely given over. A stranger was fucking me with a hairbrush in the showers of a club, and I was asking for more, in a low voice, gripping the edge of the bench.

“Aaah… keep going, don’t stop…”

“Do you like it, slut?”

“Yes, yes, keep going…”

We were getting very far when we heard the changing-room door.

We both froze. Footsteps. We didn’t know whether they were coming toward the showers or passing by. We didn’t want to risk it. I gathered up my clothes in a bundle, she did the same, and we slipped into one of the shower stalls. We locked the latch and stayed there hugging each other, wet, laughing silently.

The footsteps passed and moved away. We waited another minute, just in case. When everything was quiet again, she kissed me once more. This time without haste.

We lay down on the floor of the stall, on top of the towels. She climbed on top of me, pressed her sex to mine, and started moving slowly. My clit against hers. Her wetness mixing with mine. It was a new sensation, unlike anything I knew.

I grabbed her hips to guide her. She leaned down and kissed my neck. The movements grew faster, deeper. I felt the heat climbing all through my waist. She swallowed a moan against my skin and suddenly her body jerked. I felt something warm trickle down my belly. She squirted on me without warning and stayed motionless for a few seconds.

I gently moved her aside, still burning with arousal. She settled to one side, eyes closed, and I brought my fingers to my sex. I rubbed my clit with the hand that was still wet with her fluids, and with the other I pushed two fingers deep inside. It didn’t take long. I came with a muffled cry against the tiles, feeling a warm little stream run down my thigh.

We stayed like that a good while, both of us on the floor, catching our breath. Then we dressed in silence. There were no big words, no promises, no exchanging numbers.

“See you,” she said from the shower-stall door.

“See you,” I replied.

She left first. I waited a few minutes before going out.

***

The strangest part is what happened afterward. She never came back. I waited the following Wednesdays, went to the pool at the same time, made sure she could see me in the same bikinis, and nothing. She didn’t show up. I told Damián, and the idiot laughed his ass off for a full hour.

Weeks later I saw her from afar playing tennis with another friend, at a different time than mine. I lifted my hand to greet her. She looked away as if she didn’t know me and went on with what she was doing. Not a smile, not a gesture. As if nothing had happened.

I still don’t understand what went through her head. Maybe she felt embarrassed afterward. Maybe she has a life where that morning doesn’t fit. Maybe she just wanted to try once and that was it. I’m not going to demand anything from her.

I only know that that Wednesday morning, in the showers of some random club, a stranger and I gave each other something that can’t be bought or planned. And that, even if it seems small, was enormous.

Kisses. I’ll read you in the comments.