Morgan Lake

After a hard week of training, high jumper Morgan Lake decided to use her well-earned day off by visiting the Olympic Village spa complex.

After checking in, she made her way to the women's locker room.

A few athletes of other nationalities were mingling in the locker room, but they largely ignored the newcomer, for which Morgan was very grateful as she stripped off her clothes. She would usually wear a bikini at the spa, but she didn't know if they had different rules on the continent; the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to her bare skin, which would inevitably happen if she was the only one in a swimsuit.

Folding her clothes neatly into a locker, the Brit crossed her arms over her torso, and hurried over to the showers to rinse off.

She hoped to wash off her perspiration as quickly as possible and put on a towel...but she wasn't quick enough.

"Hi, Morgan! You are using the spa too?"

Gasping, the Brit spun around to see Yaroslava Mahuchikh smiling at her, hands on her hips.

Morgan blushed and politely averted her eyes when she saw that the Ukrainian was naked, but her colleague continued to stare at her.

"Hi, Yaroslava," Morgan smiled weakly, adjusting her arms to cover her torso, and twisting her waist to hide her crotch; just because they regularly showered together after competitions didn't mean she wanted to be ogled at!

"You British are so funny," Yaroslava commented as she stepped under the shower head immediately next to Morgan.

Morgan did her best to engage her in friendly conversation, unable to stop herself casting the occasional glance over the nude Ukrainian; she wished that she was that confident about her nudity.

As if reading her thoughts, Yaroslava grabbed Morgan's wrists and tried to pull them away from her torso.

"What are you doing?!" Morgan freaked out.

"You've got a great body, Morgan, there's nothing to be ashamed about. Back home in Ukraine, we would all bathe together from a young age."

"Yeah, well, we don't do that in England..." mumbed the Brit as she reluctantly exposed herself. Morgan could feel Yaroslava scrutinising her bare body as the girls showered, and was relieved when the Ukrainian handed her a towel.

"T-thanks," Morgan blushed, hastily wrapping it around herself. More exposure was required to dry herself, and the high jumper was soon pulling on a fluffy white robe, and slipping her bare feet into a pair of flip-flops.

Cinching the robe around her waist, and blushing slightly in the knowledge that she had nothing on underneath, Morgan exited the locker room.