To the locker room

Sweltering, I made a right at the open door, as I raced to a locker room I knew was on the second floor. The area was currently under renovation, but I hopped the construction tape and headed to the ladies room, still warm and glistening from the hot yoga. I rushed past the out of commission lockers, dodged a row of mirrors and sinks, before I entered the first bathroom stall I could find, latching the lock behind me. Dropping my damp yoga mat to the floor, I sat back on the toilet, breathing hard, and traced my hands across my sodden hair and face, still perspiring as though I hadn't left. What the hell was wrong with me?

Trying as best I could to take stock of the situation, I peered at my dazed reflection in the bathroom stall's hinge, seeing my skin had turned copper-colored as though I'd been out in the sun for hours. The rash on my face was still just as prominent, and it looked downright Joker-ish in my elongated reflection. My eyes appeared bloodshot, the veins clearly visible at the corners, and a bit of snot was clinging to my heaving nose. I reached to clear it, but the edge of my nostrils was scalding to the touch, so I recoiled and just sat there panting more.

The air in the stall felt cold and mild, which admittedly was a welcome change, yet even so, I could not convince my body to cool down. After fanning myself as I hyperventilated, I pulled my sweaty sports bra over my head and for good measure unclipped the normal bra Erika’s dousing had soaked underneath. My heavy boobs wobbled in the temperate air, uncased and clammy yet still quivering as I breathed. But despite being topless in the locker room stall, my nipples remained sunken as my insides burned like a nuclear reactor. Letting my dry tongue hang from my lips, I moved to lift my oily butt off the seat, knowing I had to go to the source.

Dropping my yoga pants to my ankles with a whimper, I realized I had left my shoes behind in my retreat. I stretched out my bare feet out on the bathroom floor, my toasty puppies clamoring for any source of relief. Spreading my toes on the cold tile helped out a little, but ultimately I was too distracted by the unbelievable state of my drawers.

Firstly more of my hair had fallen out. My pants were a mess with the discarded strands, and secondly, the front of my undies had begun to bulge outward, the tan fabric almost black from the amount of fluids I'd produced. Cautiously I pulled at the elastic and inhaled sharply as I took in my swollen genitalia.

My pussy, now hairless, had doubled in size and was puffed out a good inch from my pelvis, my labia majora curving outward like a pair of raw cutlets. From between my two bare endowments, it looked like I had grown a third boob between my legs or at least a bagel, since it opened in the center and was obviously not as large. The mound had long surpassed camel toe, with the resulting swell resembling a much larger animal's hoof, and I could feel the overpowering heat coming off my plump lips in waves. Still holding the waistband in shock, I couldn’t take my eyes off it and felt my mouth upturn in spontaneous horror.

Touch it

Moving far too quickly, I shot two fingers down into the fissured mass, stroking at the fleshy blob as I pulled my cleft lips apart. Grunting in spite of myself, from both the wetness and the pain, I realized I had never been this sensitive before in my life. Even when Jasper and I were first starting out, the sensations were more strained and uncomfortable than riotous and overpowering. Each touch felt like I was enjoying a piece of chocolate, and with my frantic rubbing, the sweet arousal was just so intense. I reached down with both hands to claw at my melting pot, and still naked (save for my flooded panties) I humped my fingers with wild abandon, my florid chest undulating as I masturbated in the public stall.

“Hn hn hn hn, nnnnnnnnn,” with noises akin to a chuffing dog, I rubbed against my throbbing clit with one hand and held my massive labia open with the other. All romance long abandoned, I fingered my hood in crazed artless squirms, rapidly stroking in and out like someone trying to make noise with a fast food straw.

"Yuh yuh yuh ungh yuh yuh yuh," I vocalized like an animal, my eyes rolling in their sockets. The heat inside me was searing, my pussy had become a pink swimming pool, but as my oversexed mind strained to understand why, a voice from deep within offered up an answer.

Fantasize about the man

My mind’s eye swam with images not of Jasper but of Marco’s short shorts, the golden fabric pulled taught around his giant cock. Soon images of the rest of Marco flooded my senses: shirtless abs, rippling legs, and powerful yet stupid necklaces hanging down between his chiseled pecs. My imagination began to fill in more details, filling the bathroom with the smell of his sweat, the rich timbre of his voice, and best of all, what might lie below those flaxen shorts. My phantom instructor took his place before me, and as I willed it, he pulled down his yellow trunks to release his great sinewy python. I let out a howl in anticipation.

“Quiet Riley,” he snapped, and I clamped my mouth mid shriek. “This is a silent exercise, now both legs, up! Up in the air!”

For the first time since I’d entered the bathroom stall, I dropped my hands from my warm box and hastened to obey. My fantasy instructor eyed me sternly, as I pulled my feet up and off the ground, balancing as carefully as I could on the slick toilet. Kicking my soiled panties off my knees, I used my newfound flexibility to hook both legs behind my elbows to keep them spread as I balanced myself on my both hands. A firefly pose. I stared at Marco pleading, but not daring to make a sound, as I waited for him to accept my outstretched offering. My flabby folds quivered hungrily, awaiting his embrace.

“Your form needs work,” he growled, my arms shaking and no doubt costing me points as my wrist muscles burned under the weight. But I held the position, praying my austere instructor would not be deny my release. Marco looked me over as he prepared his final judgement, his hands tracing my naked bust as I breathed.

“It will have to suffice.” My patience rewarded, his hands snaked around my bust, cupping a tit with each hand, and he pulled me to his great rod, penetrating to my cervix.

“Uuuuuuuunnnnnnh,” I bucked, all form and training lost as I tumbled off the bowl, one leg thrusting to catch my fall, the other still by my ears, My arms struggled vainly to brace me against the wall, but were too exhausted from supporting all my weight. Folding ineffectually, my body crashed to the floor, my brain awash with hormones as Marco’s illusory cock wrecked me from the inside. I spasmed on the ground, keening like a woman possessed, the image of my demanding yoga instructor fading in a haze of color. Eventually the waves of pleasures abated, and I could breathe easier lying on the cold linoleum, alone yet satisfied.

Lucid thoughts returning, a wave of guilt passed through me at the retreating images of my yoga instructor, still fresh in my mind as the aftershocks rocked my body. "Holy shit...I just came my brains out," I sighed hoarsely, still shocked by the rush of sexual need.

And you think...you think this makes you better than me?

Ignoring the strange words as my orgasm passed, I counted my blessings that my body had returned to its normal temperature, though was sad to see my protruding snatch remained unfortunately pronounced. Thinking I needed to get out of here and realistically make a doctor's appointment, I stood up from the floor, shivering a little in the silent locker room.

What on earth was happening to me? Why did my vagina look so weird? Where did these strange urges come from? And had I been attracted to Marco this whole time? I pondered the list of questions, but found no answers in the end. Unsure of what else to do, I collected my discarded clothes, and on shaky legs, made my way out into the gym, a crowd of dismayed instructors waiting to ambush me.

While I was a bit freaked by their presence, covering my face with my hands, they were all super excited to have found me. The gym rats bustled about, offering me every amenity they could think of. Hawking their Gatorade and protein powder, they tried to ask if I had become dehydrated or had a heat stroke while in Marco's class. I was just too nervous to give much detail, especially after my bathroom episode, but one red haired manager proved particularly effusive. Both interrogating me to find out what went wrong and doing her best to make sure I wasn't about to sue the gym, words like "temperatures were well within hot yoga standards," and "and you signed the liability form when you took the class," turned my stomach sour. If I were looking to press charges, I would've certainly been tempted, just to call her bluff.

Luckily, my guardian angel Erika eventually pushed her way through the crowd, my locker room effects held in a plastic bag.

"You wanna go?" She asked reading my mind, and putting on my glasses, I quickly nodded yes.

Turning the redhead and the other instructors away, Erika said she was going to drive me home, and make sure I got plenty of water. This seemed acceptable to the ginger and her staff, but as we departed the tight crowd, I spotted Marco in their midst, staring at me gravely. He looked worried, possibly for my safety but I assumed more so for his job. I thought about reassuring him, but vivid memories of my fantasy stopped me in my tracks. Cheeks burning, I refused to meet his eyes, and so I simply headed out with Erika, wondering what I was going to tell Jasper about this ordeal.