Month: April 2015

Coed Showers

at school first times teen

“See you tomorrow morning Nicki,” Leah yelled as she headed to the shower after her early morning run. “This has to be the only part of dorm living that I can’t stand,” she thought, “coed showers. You know it’s bad when you have to get up at 5 o’clock in the morning to actually get a shower to yourself. I wouldn’t mind sharing that much, if it was girls I’d be sharing with. There’s just something wrong about showering with a guy.” When Leah reached the showers, she realized that she had forgotten to stop back to her room and get her shower supplies and clean clothes. As she was walking towards her room, she saw Matt, a fellow student heading to the showers.

“Well,” she thought, “do I skip my shower or do I just give up and share the room with a guy? I guess I’ll just have to share and be friendly.” With that thought, she hurried in to her room.

“Damn it, where did I put my shampoo Leah asked as she frantically looked around. “There it is. Great, now I have everything. On to the showers.”

When Leah got back to the showers, she carefully checked around to see if anyone else was in the shower. After she was sure no one was there, she selected a shower, turned on the water, took off her clothes and got in. Once she was used to the water, Leah began her shower routine. She started with her long blond hair, lathering it with foamy suds and then rinsing it clean. Next she worked in the conditioner. Leaving that it, she began to wash her body. Leah squirted a small amount of body wash on to a body puff, worked it into a lather and began to scrub her body.

While Leah was busy washing herself, Matt had walked in, and noticed she was there. For weeks Matt had noticed Leah, how sexy she looked when she walked, how blue her eyes were, how soft her hair looked, and how nice her tits looked when she wore some of her more revealing tops. In fact, Matt had slowly but surely become infatuated with Leah. He had been hoping for weeks to find her alone and be able to introduce himself but it just hadn’t happened. Now here was his chance, but what could he say to her? Then it dawned on him, he’d peek through the curtain and ask her if he could borrow her shampoo. It was worth a try.

So Matt got in the shower next to Leah, took off his clothes and got wet. Then her got out, walked over to Leah’s shower, pulled the curtain aside and stuck his head in.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but I seem to have forgotten my shampoo, could I borrow yours?”

“Well here’s my chance to be friendly.” thought Leah. “Sure you can, just a second, let me get it for you.” she said. “Wow he’s really hot, maybe this coed thing isn’t so bad after all. I should see if he interested in me. This might actually be pretty fun after all.” Leah thought. Then she turned to Matt and said,
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Making The Grade

at school blowjobs

I can’t help but notice the blazing blonde hair flowing halfway down her back, surrounding a face which initially confuses me. While she can give off the “I’m-so-fucking-bitching” attitude, I shortly assess she’s actually a semi-innocent, cute, naive, and childlike — yet knowingly flirtatious — young woman, caring more about having fun in the moment than anything else.

Sitting in the front row (“Obviously a learning strategy she’s picked up somewhere,” I silently surmise, smiling to myself), her striking features and two-piece outfit scream for my attention. She’s dressed perfectly for the warm autumn days at the beginning of the school year. The bottom of the thigh-length black floral print skirt flutters innocently in the ever-so-slight breeze passing through the room, but when she spins to take part in the ice-breaker I’ve planned, I notice how the top wraps tightly around her flawless waist around stays snug until where it just passes the point where her perfectly-defined buttcheeks take form. My subtle (yet well-trained) observation skills notice the slight rise of the intended-to-be-invisible top flare of her thong under that silken wrap surrounding her ass. “Hmmm,” I think to myself, “lovely accentuation brought out by a comfortable — and lovely — skirt.” As well, I notice the match: what looks like one of Daddy’s lightweight white Oxford dress shirts. She has tied it off up just under her rack. And what a pair of gorgeous tits: They’re tight, firm, and just a little larger than what might be expected on a girl her size. The only button she’d bothered to fasten was the unique gold-covered change Daddy must have made: the Playboy bunny emblem. Consequently, because the shirt is a tad too big, she affords me an amazing view of her right breast. When she turns, the consequence of not-yet removing all the starch causes the left side to lap open slightly, providing an unobstructed view of her nibble ring and a rush of blood to my easily engorged cock.

By reading and following up on her “beginning of the year” questionnaire, I discover that not only is she on the spirit squad; she’s also one of the premier individual dancers in the state. Within days I learn that, in dance, she regularly wins competitions, showcasing her choreographic talent — and her crushing tendency to unknowingly incite the distracted judges (both men and women) to lust after her.

As the semester progresses, I find I (almost) unknowingly schedule any needed walk through campus at the same times as her practice. Her perfectly trained ass gyrates to the sounds of the music which carries her into erotic ecstasy — at least in my mind.

But it’s in class where her magic continues to capture my imagination and fuel the fantasy. It is a game day just like any other, and she’s there in that short skirt which easily gives way to her tight, pussy-outlining panties. It’s as if she forgets she’s wearing something so short, and lets herself spread those luscious powerful legs just a little too far. It’s then I can barely contain the blood rushing to my member. Needless to say, this makes it difficult to conduct class, as she slides her ass toward the front of the chair, oblivious that she’s giving me a peep show up her skirt. I find it hard to focus on the aesthetic consequences of Reductionism. My brain tries, but slips and stumbles. Ohh, that trimmed young beaver, barely covered by her panties.

I know all it would take: The class session ends, the other students file out considering the profound implications of what I’d presented that morning. Consequently, they’re oblivious that she’s remaining, overwhelmed. Their departure gives me the change-of-pace I need as I put away my notes, seeing the blur of faces exit the room.

At first, even I don’t notice her still sitting exactly where and how she had been less than a minute prior, but it doesn’t take long. I look up and see what I think is that look I’ve seen in the eyes of multiple struggling coeds like her before. But I’m wrong, and we are alone — with nobody needing the room for over an hour.

Tucked behind those those seemingly sad liquid blue eyes is a question. She looks at the floor, or so it seems. “Professor, you… well… you know my grade in this class isn’t so good, and well… I really need a good grade in here, and I’ll do ANYTHING to raise it.”
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