No, more men enter

Emily sat frozen on the tile floor, towel crumpled beneath her, chest bare, hair dripping. The air around her pulsed with steam and panic. Her eyes were still locked on the impossibly large, very hard cock in front of her, and the man attached to it—young, built like a gymnast, tall and calm despite her very obvious state of vulnerability.

And then—

The locker room door swung open again. A new chorus of voices echoed in. Deep, laughing, loud. Footsteps slapped across the tile, and another showerhead hissed to life.

Emily’s body jolted, a bolt of panic running up her spine.

But before she could even gather her legs to stand—

He moved.

In a single motion, the young man crouched low and slid both arms beneath her armpits, scooping her up with shocking strength and ease. Her back arched in surprise, arms instinctively clutching at his shoulders. But it was her legs that moved first—pure reflex—wrapping around his waist in a snap, clinging for balance, wet thighs locking against the hard muscle of his lower back.

Her bare core pressed against the heat of his abdomen. Her breasts pressed flat to his chest, nipples grazing damp skin.

She gasped.

He didn’t flinch.

He turned and stepped quickly into the nearest empty cubicle, yanked the curtain shut behind them, and reached for the water controls.

Hot spray poured over them a second later, fogging the air, blanketing them in sound and heat.

Emily was still clinging to him. One arm hooked over his shoulder, her body lifted easily against his. His hands were firm beneath her—one gripping the curve of her back now, the other holding her thigh, his fingers splayed wide and secure.

She could feel everything.

The solid wall of his chest. The ridges of his abs. The long, rigid press of his cock, now snug between their bodies, its heat pulsing directly between her legs.

Outside, voices echoed. Showers turned on. Men laughed, joked, oblivious.

Inside the stall: silence, steam, breathless tension.

The man looked down at her.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice deep, quiet, close to her ear.

Emily’s breath shook. Her hands tightened on his shoulders. Her legs were still locked around his waist. Her bare skin tingled from water and contact and pressure and heat.

She nodded once.

He didn't set her down immediately.

Neither of them moved.

The water ran, the air thick with steam, and her nipples rubbed lightly against the hard planes of his chest with every slow, shallow breath.