========
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Mike12a Room 222 mFF
From: fr582@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Max S. Wojtylak)
Date: 30 Jun 1996 17:51:55 GMT



If you like thise story, please archive it.











ROOM 222: Hit the Showers

By Uncle Mike


     Maybe it was pulling down the gym coach's shorts that 
started it all. If that's true, it was the smartest prank Bernie 
ever pulled.

     Bernie, a tall, skinny, gangly white kid with a head of red 
cotton wool, was the champion goof-off of Walt Whitman 
High. He didn't have a great deal of concern about his regular 
classes, but he actively disliked gym. 

     With the coach, the feeling was mutual. So when Bernie 
pantsed him, the coach sent Bernie on 10 extra laps around 
the gym, and then made him clean up the bleachers and stack 
towels. By the time he was done, he'd worked almost clear 
through his lunch period.

     Bernie was feeling pretty punk when he dragged his sorry 
behind into the boys' locker room. It was deserted, with just 
a few soggy towels puddling on the floor and the odd 
jockstrap or two dangling from lockers. Bernie twiddled and 
spun the lock on his own locker several times before it would 
finally come loose. He stripped off his sweaty shorts, jock 
and T-shirt and stuffed them into the top of the tiny metal 
box before trudging off to the showers, flip-flopping in his 
sandals across the slippery tiles. He picked a shower all the 
way in the back, the one that most reliably gave hot water, 
and twisted the knob to full blast.

   ===   ===   ===   ===

     Liz McIntyre, a shapely black woman, stopped short on the 
cinder track and sucked in a bushel of air greedily while a 
troupe of young girls pounded past her. After the last of the 
herd had thundered past, Alice Johnson skidded to a halt 
beside her and reached out to her.

     "Liz? Liz, are you OK?" 

     The older woman got her breathing under control and 
turned to her young friend.

     "Y-yes, I th-think so," Liz puffed out. "Whew, that was a 
workout. How many miles did we run?"

     "Just three," Alice said perkily. "How about a couple 
more?" Alice was just a year out of college, giving her at 
least a decade on Liz. While her face was a bit red from the 
workout, Alice was breathing evenly and, as usual, smiling 
broadly.

     Liz looked up at her and groaned. Alice got the message 
and she put her arm around Liz and joined her in walking back 
toward the school.

     Liz, a guidance counselor, had let Alice, the new English 
teacher, convince her that they needed to get some regular 
exercise. Liz's idea of regular exercise was a nice brisk walk 
once in a while, but by the time Alice got around to explaining 
her plan to run the track with one of the girls' gym classes, it 
was too late to protest. From the grimace showing through 
the sweat pouring down her face, it was clear she now 
regretted the decision even more.

     Liz was so worn out that she insisted they stop just 
outside the school and rest on the steps. It was a shaded spot, 
and with a cool breeze it wasn't long before she felt almost 
as perky as her young friend. Almost, of course -- no one over 
22 ever felt THAT perky again.

     But as they turned to go into the school, the herd of young 
girls came marching up behind them.

     "Great," Liz said, looking behind her. "Just what I need, a 
shower room full of teenagers. Child, I am NOT going to take a 
shower with that group."

     "But, Liz," Alice said, pressing against the wall as the 
girls trooped past, "I can't go into class like this! And I have 
my honors seniors next period -- I have to shower now!"

     "No problem," Liz said. "We'll use the coach's shower." She 
led Alice down to the private room and pushed open the door 
partway when a bellow stopped her.

     "Hey! Who's there?" The voice was unmistakably male. 

     "Hey, coach, it's Liz McIntyre! I need to take a shower!"

     "Well, you can come on in, but I ain't going to be out of 
here for another 10 minutes," the voice boomed as tendrils of 
steam began to curl around the half-opened door. "It's on the 
schedule."

     Liz slammed the door and stalked down the hallway, 
swinging the duffel bag with their clothes.

     "Now what?" Alice said, running to catch up with her.

     Liz said nothing. She walked quickly down the hallway and 
then made an abrupt turn, pushing open a pair of double doors.

     "Liz! You can't go in there!" Alice tugged at her friend's T-
shirt. "Liz, this is the boy's locker room! They'll kill us if they 
find out!"

     "Look, there's no boy's gym class this period, and we'll be 
out before the next one starts. I am going to have my shower. 
If you don't want to join me, that's your business." She 
sniffed daintily. "Wow, this place really does smell as bad as 
they say."

     Shrugging her shoulders, Alice joined Liz in stripping off 
her clothes and piling them up on a bench next to their duffel 
bag. 

     Liz had a smooth, cocoa-brown body, with long legs and 
full breasts. Alice sneaked a peek at her friend's body 
admiringly. Her own creamy white skin seemed far less 
exotic and alluring, and she felt pudgy alongside Liz's taut 
limbs even though she preferred to think of herself as full-
figured. At least she was young enough to still have firm 
breasts, jutting straight out from her chest and ending in 
eraser-sized nipples made erect by rubbing against the cotton 
T-shirt. Liz's breasts were bigger, but age had drawn them 
down slightly. Even so, Alice noted ruefully, there was no 
denying the attraction of the huge dark circles of puckered 
skin that surrounded the nipples, even bigger than her own.

     As Alice looked away, Liz did some peeking of her own. 
She had agreed to this exercise thing in the first place in 
hopes of reducing the one body part she hated, the wide ass 
that had earned her the nickname "Aircraft Carrier" back in 
college. Through diligent effort she'd knocked it down since 
then, but she feared the tide of time. She looked over Alice 
appraisingly, noting that the younger woman's behind, 
although no smaller  than her own, seemed more in proportion 
to Alice's body. She grimaced.

     As they neared the showers they could hear water running, 
but neither one thought much about it. A couple of times when 
they'd played tennis together after school they'd hit the girls' 
showers only to find someone had left the water running. 
Thinking of forgetful students reminded Alice of a girl in one 
her morning classes who'd forgotten her homework three days 
running, and she began to ask Liz for advice about it as they 
turned the corner into the shower room.

   ===   ===   ===   ===

     Bernie was facing the showerhead, rinsing off the last of 
the soapsuds, when he heard a gasp. He spun around quickly, 
droplets of water spraying off his hair.

     At first he was so surprised to see someone else in the 
showers that he didn't even register that they were women.

     "Hey!" he said, and his voice cracked. He tried again. "Hey, 
what are ... yiiipes!" Those tits! Those were ... 

     He slapped his hands down over his crotch and backed up 
against the tile wall. The women looked as surprised as he 
felt, but instead of covering themselves they had flung their 
hands wide, giving him a clear view of their ample breasts, 
the tufts of hair above their cunts, their smooth legs.

     "Bernie!" The name came out as a single outburst, both 
women speaking at the same time. "What are you..." 

     That time only the dark-skinned woman spoke. That voice! 
Bernie forced his eyes up to their faces. "Miss McIntyre! Miss 
Johnson? What are you doing here?" Without thinking, Bernie 
lifted his hands from his crotch and walked toward them. 
"This is -- geez, I didn't go into the girls' locker room, did I? 
Hey, wait, no, I found my locker, so this must be ..."

MORE IN PART b






