Locker room

It is a marvellous place, a voyeurs’ paradise. Here women transform from sweaty sticky messes to sleek and sophisticated with a flourish of the straighteners and a slick of eye liner.
All body types are covered: the tall, boyishly framed woman who swims every single day; the elderly Pakistani lady with massive boobs, the orange Essex girl who won’t leave without full makeup; the busy mum who doesn’t bother with any, the Turkish fitness trainer with abs to die for.
Their bodies fascinate me. Of course, I compare theirs to mine. There are fake tits, full bushes, tattoos, ribcages protruding, piercings and tan lines. Then the stockings, thongs, tights and the legs. The woman with seven bras hanging in her locker, one for every day of the week. I watch them all and I make mental notes. My eye is inevitably drawn between their legs, a flash of pussy, a glimpse of an ass. Tantalising.
She’s usually there when I am during the week, sometimes on weekends. She is tall and slim, with darker and longer hair than my own. She has friends there, sometimes they chat, about the class they’ve just done, or their jobs, or holidays.
We catch eyes in the mirror as I’m combing my wet hair. She’s peeling off her gym kit, her legs lean and toned. We both look away. And later, again our eyes meet as I’m putting on lipstick, her back arches as she lifts her top over her head.
Her eyes are full of sadness. It feels like she needs something.
I want to go over there and kiss her on the lips. See what another woman tastes like. Gently play with her nipples and feel them harden at my touch. Put my hands on her shoulders and guide her to sit down on the bench. kneel before her and leave a trail of kisses from her knee to her inner thigh.
She would push my head close to her so my lips brush her pubic hair, so I can smell her lust, her excitement. My tongue would start to lap, start to taste her. She would moan, and lie back, her legs opening wider. My fingers would push inside her to feel the wetness, feel her warmth. I would work faster, my tongue in rhythm on her clit, digits pushing in and out of her. I would feel her orgasm vibrate on my tongue, and right at the quick of my own cunt as she shudders and spasms, her thighs closing around my head.
The next time we catch eyes, she will smile and blush.

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