A visit to the swimming pool became an adventure

The chlorine sting of the pool clung to my skin as I floated under the dimming winter sky, the water my only witness. Training for the certification had left my muscles humming, but it was the brine pool’s embrace that unraveled me warm, heavy, sinful. The steam curled off the surface like secrets. That’s when the idea slithered in: the men’s shower.

I didn’t rationalize it. I followed the pulse between my thighs instead.

The tile was slick under my bare feet, the air thick with steam and the musk of three strangers mid-rinse. Their voices cut off as I stepped inside. Two left with sharp laughs, but he stayed water sluicing down the hard planes of his chest, eyes locked on mine. “Lost?” he teased, but his cock twitched under his trunks, betraying him.

“Unhook me,” I said, turning my back to him, the strings of my bikini top dangling. His fingers fumbled saboring the moment before grazing my nipples, deliberate as a chef testing frosting. A gasp escaped me; the sound bounced off the tiles, obscene. He returned to his shower, peeling off his trunks with a smirk. His erection jutted out, proud and glistening.

I should’ve left. Instead, I watched.

His fist moved slow at first, then hungry, his other hand pinching a nipple as he groaned. “You’re just gonna stare?” His voice was gravel. The brine pool’s heat still throbbed in my veins, and suddenly, my knees were on the wet floor, my mouth aching. “No,” I whispered, crawling forward. “I’m gonna taste.”

The first lick made him curse. The first thrust down my throat erased every boundary. He fucked my face with the precision of a man who knew his way around all kinds of hunger, my gagging only spurring him on. “Such a pretty fucking mess,” he growled, yanking my hair to watch tears streak my cheeks. When I came up for air, spit-slick and dizzy, he flipped me against the wall, my bikini bottoms ripped aside.

The slap of skin echoed. His roommate fuck, had he been there the whole time? leaned against the lockers, stroking himself, eyes dark. “Creeps,” I panted, but arched back harder, taking every inch. “You love it,” the roommate laughed, and I did, god, I did coming undone on a stranger’s cock while another watched, the brine still crusting my skin.

They marked me that night: teeth on my neck, handprints on my hips, my moans dissolving into the steam. By dawn, I was sore, sated, and starving for more.