I'm in my 50s now, but back when I was barely 20 at college I'd been out running early one chilly November Sunday morning and found myself completely alone in the shower room enjoying the hot water blasting over my lean fit body. Lost in my own thoughts, I started thinking about my girlfriend, a lovely girl with the most perfect breasts I have ever seen before or since. The night before, slightly drunk, she had told me she would really like to watch me stand in front of her and masturbate, and the latent exhibitionist in me was rapidly starting to wake up.
As a scenario started to play through my mind my cock quickly began to grow and soon I was acting out the scene for her, stroking a very hard cock in my shower cubicle. I was getting close to a very hot orgasm when suddenly I heard the changing room door opening, and practically jumped out my own skin. Shit. An old building in Manchester (UK), the showers were those old fashioned open tiled walls, set in two rows of six, opposite each other. No doors or curtains. Shit.
I quickly faced away from the opening and began washing my hair with plenty of shampoo and trying to think of things like cold half eaten burgers or changing the oil in my car. Behind me I heard another shower start up and the sounds of someone washing. Was it right behind me or one down? I couldn't tell, and I couldn't really risk looking round because, despite my thought processes although my cock had subsided a little, it was still obviously semi hard. Worse still, my predicament was strangely arousing and that damn exhibitionist in me was starting to overcome the oil change and cold burgers!