After the first month, being at University in London was not turning out quite as Kevin had hoped. Not that he missed his small home town, but he'd had such high hopes of the capital. But everything was expensive, it took ages to get anywhere, the studying was already pretty intense ... and he still had his virginity. Yep, that was the killer. Not that he had met anyone among the student girls he'd particularly like to surrender it to. They were either intensely academically dedicated, or pampered rich Daddy's girls who wouldn't give him a second look, or trying so hard to be rebellious and different that they ended up all the same.
But there was one perk, one saving grace amid the frustration. His student ID got him cheap membership at a very nice fitness club near your flat. A fitness club with a pool. And a whirlpool tub next to the pool. And it seemed to be the preferred haunt of a number of young female executives from the nearby offices. He had worked out that if he could get into the whirlpool by about 5:30 on weekday evenings he could spend a very pleasant hour or so watching various attractive, confident women in their 20s and 30s swimming and relaxing in and around the pool. Real women, not college girls. Real, sexy women with real sexual experience and confidence. He watched them, he fantasised about them and he played with his cock in the whirlpool until he came. The turbulence of the water concealed him, and rapidly dispersed his semen. No-one had ever noticed. He knew it was a shocking, filthy, deviant habit. And he fucking loved it.
So one evening there he was, nursing his erection inside his baggy swim shorts as he eyed up the evening's unwitting floor show. Who did we have today? The sharp-featured, elfin blonde in the black racer-back swimsuit, with her gymnast's thighs, and little button nipples hard under the fabric. She's so light and agile she could ride you and you would barely feel the weight. The Latina-looking woman with the J-Lo buttocks in a sporty pink two-piece. Now she's definitely a candidate for doggy style, imagine grabbing those cheeks and thrusting between them. Mmm. No-one else in the whirlpool, so he eased your stiff cock out of his shorts and stroked it slowly. And who was this? She was new, he hadn't seen her here before. Wow. Only about five foot, slim and petite but shapely, in a dazzling white one piece swimsuit. Pale skin. Thick dark hair drawn up in a clip. She dived into the pool and swam a length and back with steady, relaxed strokes. Climbed out of the pool. Jesus, those breasts! An E cup, surely, heavy and straining against the white fabric of the swimsuit. His cock got harder, he stroked ever so slightly faster but he wanted to make this last. Imagining his cock between those tits. Oh yes. If she could stay in view for a little longer, Miss White Swimsuit would be formally admitted into Kevin's masturbatory hall of fame. She was bending to towel her legs, her breasts hung against the swimsuit, her buttocks were taut. Come on sweetheart, he thought, let me see your face, I want to imagine coming on it ...
He knew her! Impossible but true ... it was Leanne Price who used to work with his mother, years back. She didn't look any older. he used to have had such a crush on her ... Then Miss Price moved to London ... and to here. He wondered if she would recognise him? Surely not, he was a skinny adolescent back then. Well well, Miss Price in a swimsuit. As fuckable as can be. What a bonus. He stroked faster. His cock was as rigid as he had ever known it.
She looked up, straight at him. Then several things happened at exactly the same time.
The whirlpool suddenly stopped, the water subsided into stillness.
An attendant said to Kevin, "Very sorry sir, electrical fault, I need to ask you to get out of the whirlpool, we need to drain it."
Leanne Price called across to him: "Kevin? Kevin Turner? Helen Turner's boy? I didn't know you were in London!"
The attendant: "I'm terribly sorry, sir, I really do need you to get out of the whirlpool, it's for health and safety reasons."
Miss Price was striding towards Kevin with a quizzical smile on her face, her breasts bouncing ever so slightly.
And his erection was out of control and just would not die down. He pulled up his shorts over it, stepped out of the whirlpool and stood in an awkward posture with his hands loosely clasped in front of his crotch. If he could politely greet Miss Price and scuttle across to the changing room, he could relieve the pressure in the toilet cubicle there, but she was between him and the exit. He walked stiffly towards her: "Hello Miss Price, er, I didn't expect to see you here."
She walked right up to you. He could not get past now without pushing her away, which was inconceivable. And in any case he could not move his hands without displaying the grotesque bulge in his shorts.
"Likewise, Kevin, oh, and by the way I'm Sinclair not Price these days, but call me Leanne for heaven's sake," she said cheerily. "Gosh, I remember you when you were a shy teenager, when I worked with your mother. Remarkable woman, Helen, I learned a lot from her. So I guess you're at college here now?"
"Er ... yes, that's right ..." If he was too short or rude it would only prolong the conversation, but he had to finish this and get past her.
"Do you come here much?" she asked. "It's my first time here today, one of my colleagues got me a guest pass. It seems quite nice."