Blair puts on a show

What are you doing here?

Trapped inside a locker. Naked. Peering out into the umpire’s changing room, half the showers visible, through slits in the metal. Knowing that if you’re discovered here, sacking will be the least of your problems.

You should leave. No, if you try and leave now, you’ll be discovered. You don’t have time to find your clothes and get dressed. Being discovered in the changing would be bad enough. Being discovered naked in the changing rooms would be worse.

Not that you can escape anyway. Blair’s put the padlock on the locker. You don’t think she’s locked it. But it still stops you from getting out.

Every moment you’re in there, doubts assail you. A need for action is hampered by the impossibility of action. Very much aware of your nakedness. Very much aware of where you are.

The breaking of the silence does not ease your fears. It’s the bubble of girl talk, teams jesting over the game they’ve just played, laughing, ribbing each other, analysing what happened. Distant enough to obscure the detail of words. Close enough to drown out the beating of your heart. Snippets of conversations slipping into comprehension. “She’s a demon.” “You see how she hit it.” “That was a fantastic goal.” “Your boobs grown?” “Yes, they have.” “Look at her.” “You shaved down there?” “My boyfriend likes it.”

The white noise of showers is the backdrop to the conversations. But all you catch is conversations. No sign of the girls. This part of the changing rooms is for the umpires. No girls here. But after a time movement.

The first person you see is the other umpire, the one from the other school. She’s talking to someone. Layla. They’re discussing the game, questioning several decisions each of them made. It’s a discussion between equals, contents irrelevant. All you know is that if you make a noise, any noise, they’ll find you and your life will be ruined.

“Layla, could you help me?” Blair’s voice comes from somewhere close.

Layla sighs and disappears from your peripheral vision. The other umpire continues stripping. She’s tall, slim, very fit, muscles clear on her arms, legs and abdomen. A tight ass. Small breasts. Short brown hair. An austere face, well-tanned. You catch only glimpses of her figure. The most you see is her tight ass as she heads into the showers. She chooses a shower obscured from your vision by the wall. All you hear is the splashing.

She showers quickly. Returns, already drying herself with a towel. Your first and only sight of her nakedness. It gets your monster stirring. All this waiting has engorged it. The sounds of female enjoyment have spurred your imagination, and that has got you rock hard and ready for anything, except discovery.

The other umpire is fully clothed by the time you hear Layla return. They exchange a few more words and then the stranger bids her farewell. You can hear her rounding the last of her flock in the main changing room. The teenage laughter and teasing has faded. The showers have all fallen silent. You can hear Blair chase the last of the girls away.

By now you’re distracted by other beauties. Just out of vision, enough to tantalise, not enough to see, Layla is stripping. You see her top placed to one side. You can see her bra being released. Flashes of flesh dance at the far edge of the slit. Your dick yearns to see more.

“All the girls gone.” That’s Blair, she’s reappeared, but you can’t see her.

“I’ll just shower, then you can lock up,” Layla tells her.

Then she shifts and you finally catch a sight of Layla naked. You knew her breasts were large, but now you can see them in their glory. Bigger than Blair’s despite her being much shorter, wonderfully round, large areola. She has a pierced belly button and a tattoo of a scorpion on her right pelvis just above her shaved groin. She has another tattoo of water lilies on her upper left arm. She’s slightly tanned all over. Her eyes seem to linger on Blair, out of sight, and then she saunters towards the showers, disappearing behind the wall.

Your vision is further blocked by the appearance of Blair. She stands there, winks, mouths “enjoy”, and then starts to strip. First her top. Then her bra. She wiggles her breasts, and your breath stutters with the sight. Are you too noisy. Blair knows you’re there. The sound of the shower is surely deafening Layla to your presence. Blair bends over and removes her shorts. Then she gathers her towel and heads into the showers as well. Where the other umpire and Layla took the showerhead obscured by the wall, Blair claims the one directly in your sight.

“You joining me?” Layla asks.

“Yes, I thought I’d take a shower. All this running after the girls. And I thought I’d give you a thrill.”

Blair shakes her breasts under the cascade of water, and droplets splatter outwards. The water is cascading over the head, over her shoulders, sluicing from her heavy breasts, glistening off her thighs, off her legs. She stands with her face towards you, showing you all of her.

“You know you want this.” Is she talking to you, or is she talking to Layla? “Or do you prefer flat chested sluts like Sheri Wandering?” Blair reaches down, cups her breasts and bounces them. Water droplets dance around her.

“You’re not…”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy. You can’t enjoy.”

Blair leans over, disappearing from view, only her ass visible. Then she’s back, pulling Layla with her. She’s guiding Layla’s hands to her breasts. And you can see Layla reach up in awe to feel the heavy weights of Blair’s tits.

Blair spins Layla, until Layla’s back is to Blair. More importantly Layla is positioned directly before you, her breasts, her stomach, her pussy clearly visible. Blair pulls the shorter woman into her, the back of her head squeezing Blair’s breasts. Meanwhile Blair’s hands are squeezing and cupping and playing with Layla’s larger mounds. She’s tweaking her nipples. She’s running one hand down her stomach.

That hand reaches down to Layla’s smooth snatch. She runs it over the slit. Then she slides one finger in. Layla gasps at the intrusion.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You’re just a dirty, lesbian slut, **** for any female attention. You’ve been lusting for me ever since we met.”

A second finger has joined the first, sliding in and out of Layla’s snatch. And Blair is positioning the shorter girl so that her groin is thrust forward and you have an unobstructed view as the fingers pump. Layla is trying to fight it. But she’s failing. She’s too under Blair’s control to stop it. She’s enjoying it too much to fight hard enough. She’s shivering with her pleasure. The water is running down her, making her body glisten, emphasising her shivering with its shimmering cascade.

“If you like this you should try cock.”

“No, no, I don’t like.”

“Oh you wouldn’t like it, you’d love it. A nice fat cock. So much better than fingers. You know John Smith has the perfect cock for you.”

Layla tries to scream a rejection, but it turns into a scream of orgasm. Her whole body shakes, scattering water, scattering pleasure. She stumbles to her knees and Blair lets her fall. She barely looks at the orgasming lesbian at her feet. Her blue eyes are fixed forward, fixed on the locker in which you’re trapped.

“You’re cruel. With fingers like that, you should be…”

Layla crawls to one side out of sight. Blair gives her a side glance and a mischievous smile.

“Oh, I appear to have forgotten my shower gel,” she states.

Then she strides purposefully straight towards you, out of the showers, into the locker room, straight to your locker. You hear her move the padlock. Then she’s opening the locker.

“Enjoying the show?” she mouths. Her gaze looks down at the rock-hard penis jutting towards her. “I guess so. Keep that hard.”

Then she thrusts the two fingers that had been inside Layla into your mouth. You can taste Layla’s juices on them. You suck those fingers clean. Then the locker is shut, the padlock returned and Blair wanders back to the showers, picking up her shower gel as she goes.