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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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Shower Buddies - 2 (MF, humour)
by Stone Wolf - 1995
***
Okay, this is still the disclaimer bit. Quite frankly, I think it's
crap, but I might as well cover my ass, right? (I don't think most of
you really want to see it, anyway! <g>)
This story contains descriptions of the naked human body (Oooo!) and
(maybe, given time) the fun things that some people might do with it.
1. If you have not encountered this phenomenon in sex-ed classes yet,
you're probably too young. Besides which, we all know you're perfectly
innocent before that point and wouldn't understand the stuff, right?
2. If it's illegal to read descriptions of sex between consenting adults,
where you live, the preferred choice is to move somewhere else.
Otherwise, stop reading right here.
You didn't stop? I'm shocked.
3. Lastly, don't get your hopes up. This is humourous, and maybe even
romantic, but it's not raunchy, and I don't really think "contact", as
such, is going to occur before the 3rd chapter, maybe later.
So, now we're done a whole screenful, which means all those people who
stopped can't see this bit where I wonder whether they were following the
law or looking for the currently non-existent chapter 3. :)
I just want to take a quick time out and say thank you to the people who
have written in to comment on the story. It's nice to know that there are
some ordinary human beings out there, and not just a bunch of feds,
lurkers (hey! that was me!), senators, and archive-bots. Thanks, guys. I
probably wouldn't be working on the rest of the story if I didn't know
someone was out there reading it.
Enjoy (I hope), send comments if you so desire, and I promise not to
whimper and complain because this only my first story...
S.W.
Shower Buddies -Chapter 2 By Stone Wolf
Julie walked down the hall holding her bathing stuff protectively to her
chest. Almost a week in this place now, and she almost knew where she was
going. It was still a shock every time a guy walked around a corner as if
he owned the place (which was somewhat understandable), but it was
subsiding. Of course it was nothing like the shock she'd had the other
day. That was definitely something she was going to have to watch out for.
Turning left down the hallway, she came face to face with a steel door
sporting a faded red exit sign. This was definitely a wrong turn. She
backed up, turned around in the intersection, looked left, looked right,
looked straight ahead. Okay, where the hell was she? There were two guys
walking down the hall to the left, maybe she should ask them...
Then the taller one noticed her. One look into his eyes, and the words
"Not good." flashed across her synapses. She came to a swift decision and
walked straight ahead, pretending she hadn't seen them. She was so busy
listening to see if they had come down the hall behind her that she almost
missed the bath room door. Ducking quickly left through the door, she
listened, and heard nothing.
What had she panicked about? Just a feeling. But a damn serious feeling,
none the less. Julie had this way of understanding people, just looking
into their eyes. That guy was trouble, even a whole hall length away and
talking to a friend, she could see the look in his eyes, just seeing her
in that short green robe. Not like the guy in the shower a few days ago.
In spite of the shock, and even if he'd seen more than she was ever
willing to let tall-dark-and-gruesome even think about, he was actually
kind of funny. Almost adorably clumsy. And the look in his eyes? Always
halfway between terror and embarrassment.
A smile crossed her lips and broke into a grin as she disrobed, hung the
robe up, and picked up her cloth, soap, shampoo, conditioner, backbrush,
...you get the picture. Suddenly, thinking about that day, she realized
that by some mistake of hers, this was the same bath room. She'd actually
tried to avoid it, going the other way from her new room, but somehow,
she'd gone all the way round the far side of the floor and come back
again.
Well she was here, and there was no avoiding that, but she wasn't going
through the same dumb thing again. She picked up her towel, too and took
it with her to the stall. There was no-one else there, and she decided to
go for the far stall. Dumping the towel on the floor beside the raised lip
of the stall, she stepped in and closed the curtain.
Putting the cloth and soap down on the shelf, the bottles and brush on
the floor, and the other stuff on the shelf too, she turned on the taps
and started to try and adjust them to the right temperature. For some
reason, the hot water kept pulsing and making funny noises, and the tap
sometimes felt loose in her hand, and then sometimes it quivered with its
own tension. This was weird. She fiddled with it some more, as strange
sounds started coming from the pipes.
Great, symphony number two for shower and plumbing. If I wanted this
kind of racket first thing in the morning, I'd have moved in with Jen at
the Hall. Is the water going BROWN? Only a guy could tolerate this...
There might have been a squeaking sound, and maybe the dull thud of the
door closing, but she couldn't be sure over the splash of the water, and
the altogether unsettling whine of the pipes. Bare feet padded over to the
showers and someone stepped into the next stall and pulled shut the
curtain. This barely registered, as the hot water pipe began whining
louder and louder, and even started to visibly vibrate. Just a tinge of
panic started to creep into Julie's thoughts, as she tried alternately
turning and smacking the taps.
Can plumbing explode? I don't know but you're gonna to find out. Maybe
it'll just go away. Yeah, like that thing in that Alien movie... I knew I
shouldn't have stayed up to watch that.
"Hey!", came a male voice over the enclosure wall, "You better have a
hand on that shower head, 'cause I don't want a head shot from some crazed
chunk of airborne aluminum!"
For a moment, Julie froze in her fiddling with the taps, as it dawned on
her that she'd heard that voice before, though not anything like that
confident or coherent. That moment proved to be disastrous, as the air
bubble worked its way up to the top, and the shower head flipped up and
off in an explosion of air and water. There was a loud ping! as the head
hit the ceiling and rebounded into the next stall, followed by a curse and
a white, solid jet of water that blasted Julie across the side of her
head.
Shocked, Julie stepped out of the way of the half-inch torrent, which
kept going in an almost straight downward slope and punched aside the
plastic curtain, revealing an angry looking figure holding the shower
head. It was the guy from the other day, and he was rubbing his already
bruising hip with one hand as he stared at her across the stream of
high-powered froth. She stared back at him, then looked at the rapidly
growing pool of water on the outer tiles.
I don't need this. Hey! It's him! Ow. Wake up! Too much water. No
kidding. Little bits of floating crud, yuck. No, look up. At him. Very
good. Now SAY something...
"Help?", she said, as plaintively and apologetically as she could.
He hesitated for a second, weighing the proprieties of shower etiquette,
versus the Masterton Monsoon, and Julie added, "Please?"
Seeming to come to a decision, he stepped into the shower, physically
blocked the stream with his chest, and advanced on the angrily spouting
pipe. Unfortunately, the closer he got, the closer the blinding spray came
to his face, until he was taking it in the neck. "Unless he grows another
foot or two of arm", Julie thought, "he's not going to reach that pipe."
Sensibly, he decided to sidestep the stream, in order to advance on the
headless shower. One step ahead of him, Julie realized that he was going
to have to let it go again, and stepped deliberately into place behind
him. As he sidestepped, the stream, it sprayed over his shoulder, into her
face, then came full force on her breasts. The pain was like an unexpected
flurry of punches against her flesh, until she got the stream centred on
her sternum, then it was just a firm steady force, splattering off of her
in all directions.
Probably because he heard a wet flesh-slapping sound, rather than the
expected plastic boom of the curtain being ripped out of the way, Harold
looked back over his shoulder. And stopped.
What is he doing? Take a wild guess. He's not looking at... Yep. No...
Yes. Well, tell him to stop it! Are you sure? I mean it is kind of...
"Look, splphth! can you just put the splfffp, ...thing back on??", Julie
gurgled. She was not enjoying this, and it wasn't even so much the fact
that he was staring at her, but more that every moment he delayed getting
the stream under control was that much more pain on her rapidly reddening
skin.
A flush coming to his face, Harold turned around and braved a storm of
side-spray to jam the shower head back in place and pull it back down,
where it couldn't (okay, might not) come off again. Satisfied that it
wasn't going to come right off again, he turned around, all serious, and
said, "Look, if you hear that whine again, you reach up and grab the
shower head real quick, so it doesn't tip up and off, okay?"
Julie walked through the now tamed stream to the shower head and
stretched up to practice grabbing the nozzle. Suddenly, realizing that the
crisis was over, she looked at Harold, who was still just standing
there... Hey!... "Hey!"
After one quick glare and a meaningful rub of his now visibly
discoloured hip, he stepped around her and out of the stall. The angry
slap of his feet into the puddle on the outer floor was audible, as he
returned to his own interrupted shower.
Suddenly, Julie felt kind of bad. Well, she had asked, and he had helped
her. After all, he could just have chucked the shower head at her and told
her to fix her own problem.
"Hey!", she said.
Harold's head came back into view around the wall, though he steadfastly
stared at the curtain, as if it held some special interest.
"Thank you", she said, then more quietly, "I mean it."
"You're welcome.", he said, somewhat sullenly, still staring angrily at
the curtain.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay. About the thing hitting you, and me shouting at
you like that. It's just... Well, it's just that I'm not used to having a
guy naked in the shower with me That's all."
Suddenly, a smile pulled at Harold's lips, and she laughed, "What?"
Harold looked her in the eye, "It's just the naked bit that bugs you?",
he said, with a broadening grin.
"No! I mean I'm not used to having a guy in the shower with me at all,
naked or not... Well, especially not naked... Not that it's ever happened
before,... But...", she trailed off, "Arghh! You know what I mean!"
"Yes, of course I do"., he said, laughing to himself as he walked back
to his stall.
God! He is infuriating! But he is funny. Yeah, but he was also in my
shower. Well whose fault is that? Well, I could have taken care of it
myself. And what? Stuck your finger in the hole, like the little Dutch
boy? I could have turned the water off. Yeah... That's right...
"Hey!"
"Yeah? What?"
"Why didn't we just turn the water off?"
The only reply was the sound of a hand smacking a forehead, at which
point Julie started to grin. The grin stayed with her the whole time, as
she cleaned up. Thinking about the look on his face as he tried to get
close to the water's source, without getting the dental cleansing of a
lifetime, made her almost burst out laughing.
Eventually, having finished all that she came to do, she took one last
rinse, looking suspiciously at the faucet that hadn't uttered so much as a
peep the whole rest of her shower, and then reached out to turn off the
taps. Thinking about what she was doing, she burst out laughing, again,
then turned off the cold and the hot taps. Immediately, a rattling whine
started to rise from the pipe.
"Hey!", called the guy, from the other end of the room, "Flick the hot
water tap on and off a couple of times before the whole thing blows up!"
Warily, Julie reached out and grabbed the tap. It felt like it had a
life of its own at her touch, writhing and twisting and shaking. She
swiftly turned it on, then off, then on again, then off. The noise and
vibration subsided, until there was just a hiss, and a distant whine.
Shaking her head at the strangeness of it all, Julie picked up her stuff
and headed out of the stall.
Then she stopped, considering that he had already left the shower, and
was probably almost done drying.
"Hey! Are you done, or are you still hanging around out there, waiting
for another peep?"
"Hardly! What's more to see?", was the pithy response, followed by a
pause, then, "Sorry. No, I won't look. I'm just going to go and occupy a
toilet for a couple of chapters."
"Thanks," Julie muttered, then realized that she'd brought her towel
over for this very reason. The thought "How convenient." died a swift
death, as she pulled aside the curtain and saw the half-inch deep lake on
the tiled floor, and in the corner, the sopping wet mush of a bath towel.
Great. Now what am I supposed to do? Walk all the way back soaking wet
and dry myself off with... I don't have another towel. Damn!
"Umm, hey? You still there?"
"Yeah, but I'm... occupied. Why?"
"Uh, my towel got soaked. I don't suppose I could borrow yours?"
Pause, "Sure. It's on the counter."
"Thanks a lot.", Julie said, and realizing that there wasn't a whole lot
of choice in the matter, she collected her stuff and stepped hesitantly
out of the shower, into the lake, looking over to the counter, as she did
so. No one there. Satisfied, she bent over, picked up her towel, which was
indeed completely waterlogged, and walked up to the front of the bathroom.
On the left, a stall door was closed, with a pair of bare feet planted
firmly either side of the toilet, facing her. Julie put down her things on
the counter, except the towel, which she hung on the empty robe hook, and
picked up his towel.
Mmmm... Guy-smell. That secret mixture of sweat, water and mildew,
lovingly aged in a dorm-room heap to pungent perfection. And the tangible
results of a God-given conviction against fabric softener. Honestly. Do
guys get together and show off their towel-burn? "Hey! My towel can rip
off fifteen layers of skin!" "Yeah? Well they use mine to sand the edges
off of curbs!" Funny. Now give him a break. Beggars can't be choosers.
Especially silly ones who don't buy spare towels.
Julie hummed as she began scrubbing her hair and arms dry. As the
rasp-like towel scrubbed across her reddened, bruised chest, she yelped,
"Shit!", and began gingerly patting herself dry, instead.
As she worked her way down, she started to feel a bit of a tingle. Just
a little one. You know, the kind you get when you've just had a good
shower and you feel all clean and free and fuzzy. And that little tingle
starts to grow as you dry yourself. And it gets a bit more urgent, and you
think, "what the hell? Why not?", and you close your eyes, and "let your
fingers do the walking".
And then she noticed Harold's guilty face looking out from beneath the
stall.
"And just what the hell are YOU doing??"
"I... I dropped my bookmark. You shouted, I... then I book mark... you
know... startled... dropped it."
"Yeah? Well you can have your towel back!" Julie threw the towel at the
space at the bottom of the stall and whipped around to grab her robe and
put it on.
The NERVE of that guy!! I mean there I was... Okay, so I was... Well he
shouldn't have been looking! "Bookmark, my ass!"
"I'm sorry?", was the unsure call from the stall.
"Well I don't care!", Julie said as she grabbed her things to her chest
and pulled open the door. She stormed out into the hall, looked left,
looked right, and stormed off to the left.
But I do. What for? Because he's probably sorry. But he keeps on looking
at you doesn't he? Well maybe it's not his fault. How's that? Did he
suddenly lose the ability to close his eyes or something? No. But maybe he
really did drop his bookmark. Unh-hunh. Really! And maybe it just happened
to be hanging on the bottom of the door? Maybe that's why he was looking
UP? Okay, so he didn't have to. My point, exactly. Well I still think he
sounded sorry. Hmph! Now I suppose YOU'll be wanting to go back and
apologize to HIM? Well, maybe... No! Don't even think about it! Anyway,
you're here.
And so she was. "Here" being W427. Pulling the key out of her robe, she
unlocked the door and went in. The door wasn't even closed before she'd
thrown her pile in the corner and started towards the dresser in search of
clothes.
And she never even saw tall-dark-and-gruesome watching her rush down the
hall and into her room...
Well, that's Chapter 2. Comments? Suggestions? (though I can't guarantee
I'll follow them) Glaring errors? I especially hate it when they glare at
you. They're so intimidating when they do that. S.W. an582016@anon.penet.fi