The history of our vault society has perpetuated through 54 stages. The historical time is written thus: 54:453:12. Each number is in seximal, it corresponds to stage:period:sleep. A sleep is the amount of time of one sleep cycle, a period is the amount of time of one menstrual cycle, and a stage is 1000 periods. There are 50 sleeps in a period. At the last day of every period, the championship competitions are held for each sport, with concerts and displays from each art, and then teams and groups are re-shuffled. We know we live completely isolated in an underground vault, and we are planning the optimal time to exit the vault and see what is outside. We are awaiting the sacred day when we are worthy of emerging.
My name is Marion, I am a male Stage 1 (between 1000 and 2000 periods old (in the seximal number system, 18-36 years old in decimal) in my 0th substage at 1014 periods. I have 3 bunkmates who are all in my substage: Amos, Dale, and Ervin. I've been bunkmates with Dale and Ervin my whole life, but Amos got switched into our bunk section 3 periods ago, after our old bunkmate Fred got condemned.
Our bunk sections are separated by curtains; there are two adjacent bunk sections to us on opposite sides; the backside is a wall, and the other is the door-curtain that connects to a hallway made of curtain that passes through the entire stage 1 dormitory room. The other side of the hallway is the female side.
Since I am only in my 0th substage of stage 1, I am not yet classified into a sport or art or job, the classifications come at the beginning of my 1st substage.
While girls can be athletes, and often are, they are more often chosen for the arts and sciences. Where women lack the physical strength of men, women are viewed in a religious regard as sacred time-keepers. We don't actually use women to keep time, we have instruments for that. But women are a good indicator of the stability of our society, in seeing how they match up with our instruments, and predictions and adjustments by the priests and administrators, respectively, are made based on this. Women are therefore treated very well and given the highest privileges to ensure the stability of our society.
Regardless of gender differences, we still share classes together and are often assigned collaborative tasks in each field. For this period, I am primarily in wrestling classes to evaluate my skill level for it. All sports are separated into teams of half male and half female for evaluation classes like this. My team has 10 people, 3 boys: me, Wesley, and Blake; and 3 girls: Beth, Gina, and Carly. The wrestling class is taught by Eugene, a stage 2 supervisor. He teaches us things and then we practice amongst ourselves in the team. There is very little "fooling around", we police ourselves and any deviation from the social good is met with targeted public humiliation. We are disciplined as we know no alternative to discipline; deviation is taboo.
Every morning we go to the cafeteria and eat our breakfasts, as well as our nutritional pills. (These pills, unbeknownst to the narrator, completely suppress sexual thoughts and desire, upholding the stability of vault society. However, they are beginning to weaken and denature due to a recent malfunction in the storage machinery, and sexual desire will return at differing rates depending on genetics, with the narrator being the quickest to regain it. Within 2 days, the narrator's libido will be at its absolute maximum. The second-most susceptible happens to be Carly, and within 4 days her libido will skyrocket.)
At practice, something strange and embarrassing happened to me.
In wrestling we dress in our undergarments, for men: tight briefs to secure our penises; and for women, tight briefs along with a bra garment to secure breasts.
I was sparring with Gina, and I had forgotten how to do one of the moves so she was explaining it to me. As her bare skin was rubbing against mine, her body heat hot against me, and feeling the soft squishiness of her breasts against my arm, I felt a foreign yet strangely familiar, taboo vulnerability as I felt myself flush, my breathing get heavier, and a blissful warmth emanated from my penis as it expanded as it was pressed against her warm, bare, slick, shapely thigh. I knew it was embarrassing but it felt so good, and I didn't know how to stop it. She finished the move in top mount, and was now sitting directly on it, looking at me with a questioning, confused smirk. I looked down to see the head of my penis, bigger and more engorged than I had ever seen it before, sticking out from the top waistband of my briefs feeling hot on my stomach. Its girth was embedded between her butt cheeks as she leaned back, and squeezed them together (probably as a weirded out shock response) which sent feelings of bliss up my spine and caused me to thrust forward involuntarily a bit, sliding within her cheeks and resulting in my length creeping out further from my waistband. She was looking incredulously at it, with a mix of curiosity and timidness, and I realized I had to say something to maintain the order and make sure we didn't get scolded.
"Okay I think I get it, thanks Gina!" I managed to say despite my face being flushed red, visibly embarrassed and refusing to acknowledge the elephantine situation we were both confused about.
"What are you doing?", she said with the confused smirk, not sure whether to laugh or be weirded out.
"I'm -- I uhm -- excuse me for a moment sorry." And with that I wriggled out from under her (not without my penis escaping further from my briefs AND rubbing its bare skin against her inner thigh in trying too hastily to escape), and I pulled my briefs up, looking around in humiliating horror to see Carly staring at me, the only one who apparently saw. I walked as fast as I could to the restroom, mulling over how I was going to get in trouble and face public humiliation after the story gets out to everyone I know. But in the safety of the bathroom, I returned to the thought of Gina's soft skin and smooth curves, picturing my penis rubbing against her slick inner thigh once more. I wondered how I could look at Gina again, as I was at this time imagining staring into her eyes as hers stared back into mine, feeling her breath making my face moist as mine does to hers, with her cute nose, beautiful eyelashes, and soft pink smirking lips all receiving the humidity of my breath; imagining fondling her chest through her mystifying bra, sticking my hand under to feel what could possibly lie beneath; and bringing me over the edge, imagining caressing those inner thighs up to the barrier of her panties, finding the only warmth able to match that emanating from my own penis, and wanting to grab, touch, and squeeze whatever lies in the absence of where a penis should reside underneath those panties. What would she think if I actually touched her like this? How would she think if she knew I was thinking these thoughts? I grabbed my penis, and then thought about what it would be like if her smaller, delicate hands were wrapped around my girth instead of my own. I felt a pulse run through my penis. I slid my hand along it, like it had slid along her thigh. It pulsed again. I thought about how wrong this was, how my imaginations could never come true, how much trouble I would get into. What if I rubbed it against her panties? What if I slid it underneath her panties? Another pulse, more sustained. As I rubbed my penis, my foreskin stuck to my hand a bit and then I started sliding the foreskin back and forth. I pictured myself rubbing my tip against her lips, her face still looking at me incredulously, and then plunging it into her wet, feminine mouth, imagining her tongue and saliva coating the sensitive surface area of my cock -- another pulse, contracting, I think I have to pee suddenly and I'm trying to hold it -- I give in and let it out -- what is wrong with me -- and clear-white sticky fluid shoots out in spurts onto the porcelain sink and floor as I feel the overwhelming warmth emanating from my penis surge throughout my body, taking over my muscles, making them contract and convulse; and taking over my brain, giving me a sensation of psychological warmth, as though I had in that moment achieved a greater accomplishment, more social praise, more excitement than I could have ever hoped for, all culminating into one. I tensed up and relaxed and tensed up over and over again, until it fizzled out and I started to wonder what was so tempting to me about Gina's body a few seconds ago.
I turned around to see that I had apparently left the door unlocked, and Carly was standing there, apparently to check if I was okay. She was just staring (which is a taboo thing to do if someone has bodily fluids shooting out of their penis in the bathroom). Her face was red and she looked like she was frozen and didn't know what to do. I noticed her hand was inside her panties and it didn't look like she was aware of it.
"I-I wanted -- I thought -- are you? I--" she was mumbling and even more red-faced than I was with my erection a minute ago. Her panties, I noticed, were wet and her thigh had a droplet running down it. Without much thought I dragged her inside the bathroom and shut the door, because I thought she might get in trouble too if someone sees her like this. I immediately regretted it because there is no explanation at all for two people to be in the bathroom together.
She was looking at my cum on the sink, too embarrassed to look at me. And I was too embarrassed to look her in the eye, instead focusing on her panties, with a hand inside still moving idly, unaware. Then she realized it was there, and revealed a hand slick with sticky juices. She tried to wipe it on the skin of her stomach and outer thigh, and then after noticing that it looked visible wiped there too, tried to hide it with her other hand. But she knew I saw it.
And I knew she saw me, but her embarrassment was so visible that I almost forgot what she saw me doing, and that my cum was splattered on the sink. I had some cum on my hand too, and in an unthinking gesture I raised it up and just showed her, trying to reassure her with her own hand. She almost smiled and eased up a bit, letting her hand out from the grasp of the other hand.
I told her, "I don't know why I did this..."
