What Happened in the Mixed Showers with My Stepson

My name is Renata and I’m not a shy woman. I’m thirty, I have a body I take care of with discipline, and a curiosity that almost always gets me into trouble I never end up regretting. What I’m going to tell you is one of those times. The most filthy, the hottest, the one that still makes me clamp my legs together when I remember it in bed.

I work out at a gym downtown where part of the changing rooms are mixed. That needs explaining so what happened makes sense. There are two separate cubicles, one for men and one for women, where everyone changes. From there a shared corridor leads to the showers, and in that corridor and in the showers themselves, we all cross paths with no distinction.

The showers are divided into two facing blocks, with a wall between them that only lets you see the person standing in the middle one, right where you enter. There are seven showers in each block. There’s a rule nobody ever wrote down: women use the block on the right and men the one on the left. But as I said, nobody signed it, and there are some people who break it on purpose.

That’s why it’s not unusual to end up with someone of the opposite sex naked at your side. Some people shower in a swimsuit out of modesty. Others don’t. I’ve never been one of the first kind.

That day I’d put in two hard hours lifting weights, the kind that leave your arms trembling and your head clear. When I finished, I went straight to the changing room and decided to shower with nothing on, like so many times before. When I stepped into the corridor, I found Iván, the boxing instructor, coming the same way, just as naked.

Iván was the man who most unsettled me in the whole gym. Walking beside him toward the showers, with not a single piece of clothing between us, made it impossible not to lower my gaze. And I did. He was half-awakened, heavy, swaying with each step.

“Lucky to run into you,” he told me, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was looking me over from head to toe. “Today I’m showering in the middle one, even if people see me. Maybe I’ll get a reward that way.”

That threw me off balance. It lit me up in a second. I knew Iván was the kind who likes to play, who gets women hot as a sport and then goes home to his wife. Some time ago there had been something between us, once, just once. If he wants to play, I play better.

We each went into our own block, but both of us stayed in the middle shower, staring at each other across the corridor. It was like standing face-to-face and yet far apart, with the certainty that only the other person could see us. And with the added thrill that anyone could appear at any moment and catch us.

Iván stepped under the spray. The water ran over his shoulders, his chest, and down. The first thing he did was wrap a hand around himself. He was already rock hard: the walk, the conversation, my wet body a few meters away. He started to masturbate slowly, never taking his eyes off me.

I let the water fall over me and brought my hands to my breasts. I squeezed them, played with them, offered them to him. Nothing was going to happen between us, but I wanted to give him reasons. I wanted to be the image he’d have in his head that night.

One of my hands started moving downward. I stroked my lips, opened myself, showed him everything. He sped up the rhythm; he was enjoying it as much as I was. Imagining the scene from the outside got me to a hundred: in public showers, a few meters away a man with a killer body, the two of us touching ourselves without touching each other.

I reached for the shampoo bottle on the shelf and aimed it at myself. I slipped it into me a little, teasing, as if it were something else. Across from me, Iván kept going. I decided to raise the stakes. I turned around, gave him my back, and, bent just slightly forward, kept playing with the bottle, now offering him the view I knew would drive him the craziest.

I closed my eyes. I forgot the place, the water, the risk. I was only thinking about what he’d be seeing, how turned on he must be getting with every movement. I really let myself go, lost in my own head, imagining him on the verge.

***

I don’t know how much time passed. A minute, maybe less, without me turning to look. Then I felt something. An erection brushing me from behind, two hands settling on my hips. I was so turned on, so fully in the game, that I didn’t open my eyes. I thought it was Iván, that he had crossed the corridor, and I decided to let him do it.

Those hands slowly moved the bottle away from me. And without a word, without warning, he shoved it in. All the way, in one go. He held me by the waist, pressed me against the cold tiles, and started to fuck me. Surprise and heat came together in something that tore a moan out of me against the wall.

That was when he spoke. And it froze me.

It wasn’t Iván fucking me. It was Adrián. My stepsister.

For a moment I didn’t know what to do, how to react. Adrián had always been the serious one in the family, distant even, the kind of man who barely lifts his eyes from his plate at family meals. I’d never imagined he saw me as a woman. And there he was, inside me, without my having known it until that one sentence.

I felt his size, the way he filled me. I knew there was no going back now, that this was going to happen to completion. But something in me wanted to resist, to say my piece before giving in. I tried to wriggle free, to twist my body.

I couldn’t. He had me held in such a way there was no escape. With one hand he pinned my wrists against the wall and with the other he guided my hips however he wanted. Legs spread, my stepsister was thrusting into me and I could do nothing but feel him. And the filthy thrill of it, his firm movements, the forbidden place, all of it pushed me to stop fighting. So I gave in and devoted myself to enjoying it.

He kneaded my breasts from behind, bit my shoulder. By that point I didn’t even remember Iván, didn’t know where he’d ended up. Until I turned my head to the side and saw him. Right there, a couple of meters away, watching us with his hand busy.

“I know you don’t want to fuck me again,” Iván told me in a hoarse voice. “I’m only asking one thing. Will you suck me off?”

After everything that was happening, I couldn’t say no to him. I told him yes, that I wasn’t going any farther with him than that, but that I’d give him that. Adrián loosened his hold and released my wrists.

***

My stepsister lay down on the wet floor and I got on top of him, squatting, in the exact position to ride him. Iván stood up, his erection at my face level. I took him all the way into my mouth in one motion, until I could taste him, and started sucking him while I rose and fell over Adrián.

Iván had been on the edge for too long. He didn’t take long to come. When he was done, he left without saying anything else and left me alone with my stepsister, riding him faster and faster, looking for my own rhythm.

And then there was another interruption I hadn’t expected. Mateo came in. My cousin.

I’d never had anything with Mateo, though his half-smile had always turned me on. He saw us full on, his cousin riding our shared stepsister on the shower floor. He froze where he stood, not knowing what to do, but the bulge under his towel was growing visibly. The scene was getting him hard.

“Come here,” I said.

My hand went straight to him. I brought my tongue to the tip, not taking him in yet, just kissing, licking, heating him up as much as possible while I jerked him off slowly. The situation had it all: Adrián, my stepsister, was fucking me underneath me; I had Mateo, my cousin, in my mouth; and minutes before it had been Iván. An impossible chain that my body took without protest.

Adrián came inside me with a stifled growl. I got up, let him out, and kept devoting myself to Mateo without stopping touching him. That was when my cousin, who until then had silently let me do what I wanted, seemed to wake up.

He made me stand, wrapped his arms around me, and took me against the wall. He held my legs, spread me, and lifted me up. Like that, suspended between his arms and the tiles, he entered me in one thrust.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you,” he whispered in my ear. “Today I’m going to make the most of it.”

And he devoured my mouth. His tongue played with mine while he rammed into me against the wall, holding me up with no effort at all. I was enjoying it immensely, more than I wanted to admit. Until he pulled his mouth from mine and looked at me with a new idea in his eyes.

“Let me have your ass.”

The whole moment was already too much for me. I let him do it. He changed my position, bent me forward, and slowly he started entering my other hole. He picked up the shampoo bottle that was still on the floor and, while he fucked me from behind, he slid it into my cunt. Both things at once, his erection and the bottle, until I lost track of where one sensation ended and the other began.

It was an enormous fuck, the ending to a morning I’ll never forget. I left those showers with my legs trembling, not from the weights, but from everything else. And ever since then, every time I walk into the mixed changing-room corridor and hear the water running on the other side of the wall, part of me secretly hopes to run into the wrong person again.