She practices her breathing on the skin flute

"Here," the man whipped off his towel and tossed it aside as his wood was already at full mast, "take this and suck on it."

Jenn said nothing, resigning herself to her fate. She had come here for a simple workout, and now she was the "main attraction" of all the hunks she had seen in the gym less than an hour earlier. She didn't know how long she would have to be in here, or how many of the guys she saw lining up in front of the stall with its curtain now fully drawn she would have to please in some way. She noticed that the man talking earlier about her clothes ran off like he was about to go get them, so she figured the best she could do was bide her time with a few guys until he brought them back. But what if they weren't around anymore, or the guy wanted to play keep-away? Setting aside ... that dreadful scenario in its own right, Jenn didn't know how she could politely excuse herself without her clothes being imminent.

On the bright side, her legs still felt like jelly, so she was grateful for not having to stand up all the way as she staggered up onto her knees. She was now kneeling directly under the shower, so the water rained down on her face and she had to keep her eyes closed, even as she faced away from the wall and towards all the onlookers. That was probably better anyway, she thought - she didn't know what she would do if she had to look everyone in the eye, or know if anyone was recording all this.

Jenn had to feel the girth of the man as it smacked her across the face, and had to use her hands to guide it into her mouth, and her tongue to make sure it didn't make her gag. It didn't help that the man had just been on the treadmill for a half hour after using the weights, and Jenn could taste all his sweat and smegma.

Jenn tried her best, and entered almost a state of zen, her mind filtering everything out except the sound of the water crashing down, the feeling of it crashing down on to her face, the increasingly oppressive weight of her wet hair draping down the sides of her face and on the nape of her neck, and of course the meat in her mouth that she had to maneuver and finesse with her tongue without getting her teeth involved while focusing her breathing solely through her nose.

And that she did. Her meat delicately touched and slobbered around his meat as she gently sucked. She even tucked it under her tongue at one point, her frenulum touching his. Eventually, after whatever amount of time had passed (Jenn clearly had no way of knowing), the man busted and Jenn tried to ready her throat for impact. This largely worked, but Jenn couldn't absorb all of the man's load (especially as he flopped limply out of her mouth and splattered and oozed some onto her boobs), and much of it dribbled out of her mouth and onto her chin.

"Thanks, love," the man bent down and ironically kissed Jenn on the cheek. At this point Jenn had regained full control of her legs, so she stood up and opened her eyes, looking around and seeing if anything had changed with the men or with her clothes.