The towel war

"Come on," said Anne-Marie, rolling her eyes. "What were you hoping to achieve here? We've all got towels."

"Not all of you," said Hank from the football team, pointing. All eyes turned to Susie, who was fiddling with the locker room door, trying to get back in. Unfortunately, it seemed to have locked behind her. Caught up in the commotion, she'd been swept outside into the gymnasium before anyone realised there was one less towel than there were girls.

She looked at the room, twenty or thirty girls in towels and around the same amount of boys in clothes, and said, in a very small voice, "Eek."

Then, thinking fast, she grabbed Anne-Marie's towel and quickly wrapped it around herself, taking a few steps back to ensure that Anne couldn't get it back. Of course, this meant that Anne was now standing in the middle of the gymnasium, soaking wet and completely naked. Except for a few soap bubbles, which were quite strategically placed, until they popped.

"EEEEK!" said naked Anne, in a much louder voice, as all the boys laughed and applauded, and grabbed the towel from the next girl over, which happened to belong to a French exchange student named Monique. "Zut alors!" cried Monique, and stole Bonnie's towel, who went bright red and promptly grabbed one away from Vicky.

Vicky, her slim body exposed to three of the male members of the birdwatching club, yelped as loud as she could and snatched the towel away from Susie. Susie, who'd thought she was safe, jumped a mile and snatched the towel away from another girl, whose name was Alison and who hasn't been mentioned yet at all in this story, though she had absolutely fantastic tits. Alison gasped, and snatched the towel from Monique again.

And so it went. On and on around the gymnasium, a game of musical towels, one girl always naked and chasing the rest of them across the wooden floor, the boys watching and laughing, the cameras rolling to ensure the whole spectacle was preserved for future generations to see. Tits bouncing, bare bottoms wiggling.