There’s one of us in every locker room you know.
I remember when I was a teen, just starting to blossom, and how shy I used to be changing in public locker rooms. I would change in the bathroom stalls, at the end of a row of lockers, or even INSIDE a locker itself. I remember a friend of mine getting so disgusted with the lengths I went through to preserve my privacy that she said, "Come on, we’re all girls here and nobody’s looking!"
Oh no?
I knew better. I knew I couldn’t be the only one. I was fully aware that I was a pervert, and I struggled between common public sense of propriety and my own sense of arousal looking at other naked bodies.
Sure, most people can’t resist a peek for comparisons. Most however, don’t scour a locker room for the best seats. I don’t care what you look like. I appreciate beauty in all it’s forms. I’ve long since lost my inhibitions and come to accept my guilty little habit. The fact it is indecent turns me on, really. To avoid sounding like the hypocrite, I’m not shy anymore about giving perhaps another of us a nice peek at my double D’s...but you won’t see me, usually. I’m not the type anybody suspects. A 24 year old GIRL getting her jollys as a Peeping Thomasina?
Does that idea turn you on?
The gym I go to three times a week...well, it’s a voyeur’s dream. From the open showers, to the twisty maze of lockers, to the full length mirrors hung absolutely everywhere so you can see anybody at anytime. One of those mirrors, the one that’s at the very end of the room where it splits between the lockers and the shower area, has always been hung slightly wrong. It allows someone a grand view of the first three shower heads closest to the entry. It also allows a person to sit at the very end of the final row and view this mirror; without anybody in the showers being able to see who’s down there watching.
Today, I’m in the pool. I love the water. I love feeling the water flow over every inch of my body, and I love watching water flowing over the bodies of lovely men and women. It’s also my favorite area for people watching. Sometimes if I’m lucky, some cute little teen’s bikini top will come loose under the water and she’ll flush an enticing shade of red as she desperately tries to re-tie it without drawing too much attention.
There seems to be an abundance of young subjects around this afternoon. I’ve been swimming for a couple of hours now. Watching that one guy adjust his package in his speedos was nice for a start. Another guy obviously made a mistake picking white briefs, which when wet showed clearly the outline of what was underneath. Not bad at all. At the moment, however, I’m lounging at one end of the pool. I appear as though I’m looking out the side windows, but really, I’m watching a reflection in them.
My god, those tits have to be in E sizes.
She’s a bit older than I am. A bit on the heavy side as well, with long blond hair trapped back in a ponytail. Not a tanned and perfect body, and it’s obvious she feels a little self conscious about running around in that tight, hot pink bathing suit. A pity really. I know the type. She doesn’t fit the mold, has been told so often, carries the stigma with her in her heart, but really a person truly beautiful and sexy in her own way.
Dear god, those breasts. Mmmmm.
She’s sitting on the bench by the pool, talking to what seems to be a male friend. I casually swim over to where she is to get a better look, and I catch the tail end of a conversation.
"I’m going to head up in a few and shower." She says.
"Ok, I’ll meet you later," replies her friend.
