Stay hidden

You stay down, immersed underneath the crushing laundry as you wait, ears filled with the mixture of arousing and disgusting scents that immerse you. You almost find yourself nodding off, because the pile of jerseys are surprisingly comfortable. You try to pass the time, first trying to count to a 1000 before giving up on 14, and then you just try to stay quiet and listen. After a few minutes of waiting, you're certain that you haven't heard a peep out of anything in the locker-room and you're safe to go out.

You wiggle your upper half out, grabbing the rim of the basket and pulling yourself free, hopping out to the ground. You stuff the panties into your pocket, before slipping out your phone and checking the time.

One minute past the deadline.

"Oh, fuck!" you swear, slamming your fist against a locker. "Fuck me..."

So fucking close. What a shitshow.