Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Camp Shower

I got to the camp shower, that morning in my towel, carrying my waterproof bag of shower essentials.  Another woman was sitting on the bench already, waiting in her own towel for a stall to free up, and I took a seat next to her.  I pulled out an emery board, and idly started grinding away at my fingernails, not really doing anything substantial, but without a cellphone for anything else on me, I found myself without a thing to pass the time.

“I’m Stephanie,” she said, holding out a hand.  

“Tammy,” I returned.  An awkward pause later, I asked meekly, “You come here often?”

She giggled a bit, saying, “I try to stay clean.  Are you camping with your boyfriend?”

I blushed and shook my head.  “No, no boyfriend.  I’m here with the,” I stopped myself, not knowing how to continue.  The club I was with had a very feminine name, and although I’m out, and I certainly don’t hide my sexual preference, I also don’t have to wear it as a badge constantly.  “I’m with a club for women,” I finally finished being as vague as possible.

“Oh,” she said nodding in approval.  “Well, I actually work here, but I took a little slip in the mud this morning.”  She pointed at her exposed shoulder and then her calf.  She had shapely legs, even if they were slightly splattered with caked on mud.  The mud seemed to travel down her back under the towel, and I could just imagine where it went underneath.

I nodded, realizing that now she had a reason to be here so late, while I really did not.  I was simply lazy getting out of bed this morning, and the last one to eat breakfast.  Some of the brave ones in my group went on a morning hike, and no doubt lots of them would be back before I even started my day.  I simply was not a morning person.

A toweled woman stepped out of the shower area, and looked at us saying “All yours,” and walked right out towards the cabins.  “You better take it,” Stephanie offered.

“Oh no, you were here first,” I countered.  I reasoned that she probably also had a shift to get to, her shower was probably eating into a lunch break as is.

“Well,” she said, “I guess we could both take a stall to save water.”  She smiled at her little joke, but still didn’t make a move to go anywhere.

I chuckled a bit, tossing my hair aside.  “Well, that’s not really as innocent as you might think,” I said. “Really, you take the shower, it’s all yours.”

She adjusted her towel around her breasts and asked, “What do you mean, not innocent?”

“Well, I, uh,” I stammered.  When cornered I had grown accustomed to flinging as many excuses as I could in my youth, but now that I was older and wiser, I realize it was totally unnecessary.  “Well,” I said, “I’m a lesbian, so showering with you would be very nice for me.”  I blushed a beet red, and another woman stepped from the shower, again proclaiming that her stall was now free.

“Well, I guess that means, we can both shower now, in different stalls” Stephanie said.  We both mysteriously stayed seated.  It was apparent we would both be waiting for stall number three, the last one to vacate.  “You know, we can probably take our time in our showers,” she suggested.  “We’ll probably be the last ones today.”

I swooned a bit, and wanted to kiss her there, but at that moment, the last shower stopped, and we just both smiled back at each other, waiting for the final woman to come out, making the shower stalls completely empty.  After an eternity of drying she finally exited the shower area, and alone we walked into a single stall together.

“This one really is the best,” she opened the wooden door to one of the showers and we hopped in.  She unwrapped herself first, showing off the caked on mud that streaked across her body.  Although she was probably wearing clothes at the time, the puddle she slipped into must have been deep, as brown dried mud was all over her very fit body, like a second skin.

“You know, lots of women pay lots of money for this kind of treatment,” she said, as she turned on the water.  “And all I had to do was slip and fall into it.”  The water was surprisingly forceful for a camp shower, and she pointed the water faucet at herself, getting a lot of the mud off and it fell off in clumps.  I just stared open-mouth in the corner, forgetting that I was still wrapped in a towel, and leering like someone at a strip show.

“You know Tammy,” Stephanie said, “if I didn’t know any better I would think you don’t intend to take a shower at all!”

I looked down and laughed, graciously unwrapping myself.  Our breasts and figures were about the same, with my breasts being a little bit heavier than hers.  I hung my towel next to hers and approached, holding a bottle of apricot bodywash I had brought with me.

When I had gotten a little rinsed off, I had her turn around and I saw her shapely hourglass figure, just inches from my hands.   It was so firm and white, and the remnants of streaked mud gave a beautiful contrast.  I grabbed her hips and pulled her close to me.  I had shaved before the trip, but I knew she could feel the hairs of my pussy starting to come back as they rubbed against her backside.   She arched her back and gave me a reverse hug, with my hands cradling her tummy.  I smeared liquid soap down her chest, and she smiled as I started to lather.

The mud gave way to the soap quickly as I worked up the suds, loving the feeling of her silky skin underneath my fingertips.  My hands ventured further and further south, below her belly button and she braced herself against the wall as I continued.  My soapy hands continued to frisk her and explored her lips and clit, pinching and pulling at every new thing they encountered.
I could feel her ass clenching and her knees starting to buckle as I worked, knowing I was kneading the dough of her impending orgasm.  During this time, my entire body was under the hot shower jet, yet cleaning myself was the least of my concern.

Surprisingly, she composed herself enough and forced my hands away from their work.  She turned around and said, “Make me work for it.”

“What?” I asked rhetorically, knowing this game well.  She knelt on the shower floor at my feet, my pussy just a few inches from her mouth.  “Do you think your mouth is good enough for me?”  I asked with a bit of anger in my voice, which demanded respect.

“I would like to try, Miss,” she said meekly.

I could see she enjoyed being submissive, and I would not disappoint as her domme.  “Ok,” I said, “But, if you don’t do a good job, you’re going to get a hand across the tits, and I won’t let you cum until after I leave.”

She fell forward, devouring my pussy in the process.   The shower continued to stream down my face, my breasts and now between her lips, as she drank in the mixture of fresh water and my own juices. Her tongue lapped at my clit, and soon I was breathing short and shallow breaths.  My orgasm came very quickly, much quicker than ever before, no doubt to the talents of this submissive tongue.  I leaned into her face forcing my pulsating lips to mash into hers, and she sucked and supported them all the way through.

When I finally was stable at my feet again, Stephanie rose and dropped her head.  We both knew she had done well, but I appreciated that she was not bratty about it.  I took my hand and swatted at her right breast, a slap echoing in the small shower room.   She smiled broadly, knowing that a punishment like that was not given to someone that had displeased.  She quickly dropped her instinctive smile and asked, “Do I have to wait to cum, Miss?”

“Yes,” I said, “but not when I leave.  You will come to my tent tonight at nine-thirty.”  I grabbed my towel and started to dry off, leaving her alone in the stall.  “Don’t even try to cum before then.”

She nodded and I walked out, feeling refreshed about having the best shower in years, from the crappiest shower in miles.  I crept back into our tent, making sure I wasn’t mooning too many people as I bent over to enter.

Veronica was in the tent, waiting for me.  “Nice shower?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“You set that up?” I asked, but it was not out of character for Veronica.  She knew that I had to vent my dominance every now and then, and being only lightly interested in being submissive, she was okay with me experimenting with “playthings” as she called them.  As long as I always came back to her, which I always did.
“Yep, I do hope you were nice to her.”

“You can ask her tonight,” I winked as I dropped the towel and laid on my sleeping bag, Veronica taking my Venus pose in.  She knelt before me, and we kissed.  

“I can’t wait!” she squealed.

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