Beca had no idea why she was showering in a boys' high school locker room. Well, she knew that the Nationals were being held in Otisburg, where the Annual Clothesline Traditionalist Convention had booked all the hotels solid, so the Elders of A Capella had put them up with sleeping bags in the gymnasium of the local high school. Of course, no one had wanted to go to bed before midnight after pulling a total Rocky 2 on the competition, so there'd been a party in the science lab (Lily had gotten the janitor keys, so they had free run of the place). And Cynthia had spritzed her with champagne. Chloe had quickly wiped her off, but she was as sticky as an old issue of Penthouse.
Which led her to the boys' locker room, since the girls' was oddly padlocked, and a shower before bed. Amy and Stacie had gone off to get lucky, as had Lily and Cynthia, possibly with each other. Which meant she had a whole night of bunking with Aubrey and Chloe to look forward to. She half-expected to come back to an indoor campfire and a round of Row-Row-Row Your Boat.
Goobers. They weren't so bad, and she would throat-punch anyone who said a bad word about them, but her friends were goobers. She liked that about them. But still, a hot shower after a day of stress, choreography, and parking lot encores of Usher hits. Free of goobers. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Leaning against the tile wall, Beca reached up and pulled the showerhead down to pour directly on her. The water was steaming hot, just the way she liked it. Back at Barden, some politically correct jackass had gotten it so you could only get the water to tepid, so no poor babies scalded themselves. They should be so lucky. All the heat was like... equalizing pressure, letting all the fire in her drift out at a safe ebb. And she was fired up. The Nationals, the celebration, Jesse...
She'd be with him right now, in one of the Treble Makers' many
individual
hotel rooms, all alone, if his grandmother hadn't
just
backed over a dog. It only had a broken leg, but now the cops were trying to take away Nana's license and when she got stressed, she thought she was back in Chile dealing with Augusto Pinochet's stalking. So that needed to be smoothed out before Beca got any victory nookie.
Her back to the wall, Beca bumped her head against the tile. The jab didn't do anything to help with that core of pressure inside her body. Right down around her groin. It'd been a sexy day. A capella was the sexiest of all musical genres, as Chloe said, because you could have sex with a mouth but not most instruments. Stacie had said that that meant flutes were the sexiest genre, but then someone said that flutes weren't a genre, and everyone had been backstage wearing A Capella XXX: A Porn Parody outfits. Even that announcer chick had looked hot.
Thank Christ she was bi, or the only thing that day Beca would have to masturbate to was the episode of MacGyver she watched before the show. It was the one where he filled in for his old hockey coach and had to teach an asshole player a lesson.
Beca ran her hand down her stomach. Just that felt awesome. She ran it back up, to her breasts, and felt that her nipples were already hard. She wasn't packing as much as Stacie, but goddamn if her tits weren't perky. If she ever needed some extra money, she was sure she could do a mean Catholic schoolgirl-themed striptease. Just not full frontal.
She pictured Aubrey doing a striptease. Probably more of a naughty librarian, that one. She'd probably be awful at it, doing the Charleston instead of any bumps or grinds, but once she got down to the red lingerie underneath...
Beca sent her other hand down between her legs. Son of a bitch, that felt good. Soon, she was using both hands. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, the shower water falling right onto her face, her moans reverberating across the tile. She had the locker room all to herself. Hell, she had the entire school all to herself. Fuck. If only she'd packed a dildo. This could turn into a marathon. Beca felt herself sinking down the wall, her legs no longer able to hold her, and it was like she was lowering herself down to an exquisite orgasm.
"I try to say goodbye and I choke, try to walk away and I stumble, though I try to hide it, it's clear, my world crumbles when you are not near, goodbye and I choke—"
Beca's eyes popped open. Someone was singing, the voice moving through the rows of lockers right outside the shower. Beca slapped her hands onto her knees just as Chloe walked in, bundled in a robe and with a duffel bag of fresh clothes on her arm. She set it on a bench along the wall. "Oh, hey Beca."
"Hey," Beca called back, a tremor in her voice. She'd been so damn close. The only thing worse than no orgasm was an almost orgasm.
"What're you doing on the floor, silly? You're not crying, are you?" Chloe's voice turned serious. "
Did someone die?
"
"No, I'm just..." Beca drummed on her thigh. "Doin' my shower yoga."
"Oh, okay!" Chloe took her robe off and hung it on a showerhead, then made her naked way to Beca. Beca was really glad when she turned on the showerhead to the right.
In a few moments, the water had left Chloe's body pink and shining, with wet hair plastered down her back. Naked and glistening. The water that pelted her coursing down the curves and hollows of a beautifully proportioned body... the flesh practically glowing...
Beca shook her head to clear it. She was so turned on she'd even find a Pokemon other than Machamp sexy. She got up, feeling a cramp along her inner thigh. Yes, body, I get it, no orgasm sucks eggs. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the hotness. It helped that Chloe was sudsing herself up, covering her body in bubbles. Although now Beca was
remembering
how she looked naked. Argh.
"Oh, just some victory sweats. It's been so long. You ever get that?"
"Nope! Can't say that I do." Beca tried to concentrate on shampooing her hair, but every move she made in massaging her scalp sent tingles through her body. As soon as she was clean, she promised herself that she'd get out of here, go to the first dark corner she could find, and finish the job. "I think I'm actually starting to get used to seeing your junk. It's like seeing your Facebook status. Any new piercings, tattoos you want me to know about?"
"No, but I did shave recently. I got Stacie to help. Look." Chloe put her hands on her hips and canted them for a pose. Taking a closer look, Beca could see that her landing strip had been stylized into a musical note. B Flat.
"I've seen bonsai trees with less care put into them."
"You should see Stacie's. It has her Twitter name on it so no one has an excuse not to Tweet her."
"That painted lady. I put my e-mail address on my business, like a proper madam."
Chloe's giggle ended in a loving sigh. "I've been meaning to thank you. Finals... Aubrey loosening up... this entire team... it's like a dream came true. We owe it all to you."
Beca blushed and looked away. "Yeah, I didn't even come up with that boob touch move, Stacie did. She's the one you should be showering with."
"Stop it! You're really great. You should take credit for that."
"Aubrey did a lot more than me. And you, you did all the choreography. I just, ya know... 'let's use Don't You Forget About Me!' It was nothing."
That was apparently all the modesty Chloe could take. She threw herself into Beca's shower stream, hugging her with the ferocity of a zombie catching up to Stephen Hawking. Their naked flesh slid together before finally coming to rest in a firm grip, and Beca felt her denied orgasm suddenly rev up again. Chloe was all soft and warm and slippery...
"Thank you! So much! If it were just the trophy, or Aubrey, or making us respectable, that'd be enough..."
Beca's body was responding, nipples stiffening, sex heating, and she couldn't stop it. And she didn't want to. All around her, she saw clouds of steam rising, the dual shower sprays misting the room. It made her feel like she and Chloe were all alone, beyond consequences.
