Just appreciate her from a distance.

You're not feeling quite brave enough to join her in person, but you're certainly going to join her in spirit.

Nude, you straddle the low changing bench near your locker, then lie back carefully until your head rests on the bench. You trail your fingers down your body, starting from your collarbone, down over your chest, to your breasts. One hand lingers at your nipple, while the other continues down over your abdomen, sneaking into the curls of your pubic hair.

You hear a gasp from the showers, followed by a long pause where you hear nothing but water, and then another gasp. You're sure the other girl is holding her breath while she touches herself, gulping in air only when she needs to or when the sensations moving through her body grow too intense for her to stay silent. Once in a while, you hear a soft, short moan, almost a cry, but stifled quickly.

You picture in your mind's eye what she must be doing to herself. You guess that she's standing against the wall of the shower stall, facing the water, letting the wall hold her upright while she touches herself. She'll have one hand holding her pussy open, while her other hand works diligently on her clit. Her head will be tilted down, her wet blonde hair will be falling in front of her eyes, and her lips will be parted while she gasps.

By now, your fingers have found your own clit, and are caressing slowly, up and down, round and round. Your entire body is starting to grow warm and tingly. You roll your hips a little, and sigh happily. You're sure you could bring yourself off fairly quickly if you put your mind to it, but that's not what you want this to be about. It's going to be about the girl in the shower, and the sounds she makes.

And the sounds she's making are starting to pick up their pace. You can start to hear a growing need in her voice: not an aggressive sound, but a sound of wishing and longing. She's not chasing her orgasm; she's letting it come to her, on it's own time.

How quickly are her fingers moving? You think she must be touching herself faster now, so you hasten your own fingers as well, just a little, just enough to send a ripple of pleasure through your body and pull a gasp from your lips. You spread your thighs wider, and bring your hand down from your breast to hold yourself so that your other hand has better access to your clit. Your hips are starting to rock, teeter-tottering back and forth with the tide of your arousal.

The girl in the shower is giving short little cries now, as the sensations of the shower and her fingertips start to overwhelm her. She's far enough along that she's forgotten to worry about who might hear her. You imagine that she's lifting her chin, arching her back, shutting her eyes tight as she moans. Her fingers must be fluttering like a hummingbird over her pussy.

It feels to you like your own skin has gotten so hot that you must be glowing. Your toes are pushing at the floor, liftig your thighs and hips a little, toward the non-existing lover who would be kneeling above you right now. It would be perfect if someone were here with you right now, anyone, someone to stroke your hair, or kiss your lips, or nuzzle your breasts.

A sharp cry from the shower echoes through the locker room, followed by a frantic gasp. "Ahhh! ... Ah ... oh, god oh ... ohhh ..."

Whatever she's having, you want some of it. You start flicking faster at your clit. Your chest is rising and falling as your breath grows quick and heated. Tension starts to build throughout your body, taking control of your muscles, making you twitch and arch.

You wish the girl from the shower were with you right now. You wish she was watching you, just like you had been listening to her. You wish she were her to give you just that little nudge you needed, maybe by sitting on the far end of the bench, putting her hands on your thighs, lowering her face between your legs, reaching out her tongue and ...

You feel your climax start to blossom. There are a few moments of delicious anticipation as something swells inside you, something bright and big and irresistible. You give a happy little gasp, lean your head back, and hold on tight.

The first wave hits you like a thunderclap, pushing your hips off the bench and making you shout. The second wave is just as strong, and you give up on any illusions you might have had of self-control. You shudder and shake and rock, moaning with joy and release, letting the remaining waves lift you up and carry you away.

When the storm begins to calm, you lie back on the bench, catching your breath. Your skin feels like it's sparking and fizzing, like a soda bottle after you've released the cap and the foam settles. You blow a lock of hair out of your eyes, blink, and look around to assure yourself that you haven't drifted off the planet.