Bold Move

by Ethan

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, True Story, First, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, School, .

Desc: Sex Story: A true story from my college days, when I indulged in a little exhibitionism in our coed shower for the shy girl across the hall. She seemed intrigued, and I made a bold decision to take it farther.

The history of my sex life is generally uneventful and boring. There is one stark exception, though, which I will tell you about now, the only really wild and spontaneous encounter I've ever had. It is also a cautionary tale, one that I hope others may learn from. This is how it really happened:

My college dorm had an unusual arrangement for its bathrooms. The dorm was divided vertically into "entries," small units with 6 rooms per floor. Each floor had a single co-ed bathroom with two stalls, two latrines, and a double shower. The arrangement was probably quite sensible back when the dorm (in fact, almost the entire school) had been men-only. With women in the picture, new etiquette had evolved. The bathroom door was normally open. If you were in the bathroom, you closed the door. If you needed to use the bathroom and the door was closed, you knocked - the occupant would either reply "come in" if they were in a closed stall or just doing their hair or whatever, or "go away" if they were naked or just didn't like sharing. Some people, myself included, would even let others come into the bathroom while we showed. The shower curtain was opaque, and the practice helped to move people through during the high-traffic times of the morning.

There was a mousy little girl who lived in the room right across the hall from the bathroom on my floor. She wasn't what I would call really attractive, but had a certain appeal because of her small size and shyness. I didn't know her name. She had dark, slightly curly shoulder-length hair and slightly dark skin. I had only ever heard her speak a few words, but she seemed to have a little bit of an accent, and I imagined she might be from Greece or Lebanon or some Eastern Mediterranean place. It was not unusual for her to knock on the bathroom door while I was showing in the morning, and I could always tell when it was her by how soft and tentative her knock was.

So I was in college. I was male. I was horny as hell. I would often wake up with a powerful hard-on which I would relieve with a little morning jerk in the shower. One morning, getting lathered up and searching mentally for a good fantasy, I thought of the girl across the hall. Not long after, I heard the almost reluctant-sounding knock on the door. Hormones raging, I decided to have some fun with her. I reached up and drew the shower curtain. It would have sounded to her that I was making sure I was completely covered up before giving her the okay to come in. I wasn't. I had drawn it open halfway. I told her to come in.

The sinks and a long mirror were along the wall opposite the shower. I stood facing the shower head, away from her, pretending to wash normally. She said nothing. I heard the sink running. I snuck a quick look back at her, trying to make it as natural a part of my washing as possible. She was in a pink robe, wearing her glasses (apparently she wore contacts during the day), her hair a bit messy. She was filling a small coffeepot at the sink, and she was looking in the mirror at me. Seeing me seeing her, she quickly smiled in an embarrassed way, shut off the sink, and hurried out of the room.

I smiled at myself, pleased to have made an impression on her, closed my soapy hand around my cock and gently fucked myself as I thought about roughly penetrating the mousy girl from behind.

It was only a minute or two later - I hadn't had nearly enough time to come - that I heard her knock again. I was taken quite by surprise. I turned back to the showerhead like I had been the first time, and told her again to come in. The sink started running. And it ran. And it ran. I managed another glance. She had the coffee pot again. I was amused at how pathetic an excuse it was. She was looking at me in the mirror. I looked right at her and gave her my best unashamed, unaccusatory, friendly smile, then turned back away. The water ran a little while longer, then she left.

At this point, the adrenaline was really flowing. The possibility screamed at me: What if she came back again? What should I do? My cock was throbbing at full extension.

I didn't have time to decide. In under two minutes she knocked again. I invited her in. She still had her coffee pot. The excuse was way past ridiculous. She was undoubtedly fascinated. Did she want me to fuck her? I guessed she probably didn't know, just kept coming back because she felt drawn. I couldn't imagine that she was very sexually experienced. Perhaps a virgin, perhaps not, but definitely inexperienced. What did I want? I had to do something. My adrenaline level was so high I was having mild shakes. What did I want? It was too difficult, so I retreated to an easier question: What did I not want? I decided that this was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity, that what I would regret most would be not having taken this chance at a steamy sexual encounter with a near-stranger. This still didn't tell me what exactly I wanted to do with her, but I knew I had to make a move. She was uncertain, so I had to be assertive. I was so hyped up that this whole thought process only took about 5 seconds from start to finish. I turned around to face her.

One step at a time, now. Whatever we were going to do, it would require privacy. The shower still running, not saying anything, not bothering to dry off, I stepped out of the shower, walked past her, and locked the door, leaving drips and pools on the floor from my wet body. I turned back toward her again with a gentle smile. She looked scared, but didn't move. Okay, that was a good next step: calm her down.

"I'm glad you came back," I said, trying for a combination of soothing and sexy in my tone. I advanced toward her slowly, put my arms around her waist, and kissed her. She closed her eyes and parted her lips slightly. She was a tentative kisser, at least right now. I moved one hand up to the middle of her back and tangled the fingers of the other in her hair. I pressed my body up against hers and gently opener her lips wider using mine. She was slowly but surely relaxing.

I tried a little tongue. She started to pull her head back. More assertive, I thought. If she won't even kiss you, it all stops here. I firmed my embrace behind her head and leaned further in, my tongue probing her boldly. In two seconds, she responded. I got the feeling she had never kissed like this before, but in an abrupt reversal, she started frenching me enthusiastically and reciprocating the pressure of my body against hers.

I let it go on for about 90 seconds. Then it was clearly time for escalation. An important wall had been broken down in her: she was now happily involved in an act of passion with me. I still didn't know where it was all headed, but I knew I wanted to keep the momentum. I moved both my hands slowly down to her ass. I caressed both her cheeks through her robe and whatever else she had on underneath. (What that was, I hadn't had the opportunity to find out yet.) Then I held her firmly by the hips and ground my pelvis against hers. She immediately grabbed my ass and sunk her fingers deeply into the cheeks, exhaling impatiently.

This was nice, but I could tell it wouldn't be long before I rubbed my dick raw against the terrycloth of her robe. I reluctantly withdrew from her mouth and turned my attention to her neck, my body pulling back just a hair from hers as I moved lower. Her hands went to my head and she ran her fingers through my hair, letting her head tilt back as I nibbled around her neckline. I undid the tie of her robe and reached inside to cup her breasts through the faded blue t-shirt she wore underneath. She was braless, of course, and her breasts felt magical, only about a B-cup, I would guess, but the perfect size for her frame. I continued to let my body slowly sink, planting kisses down the front of her shirt to her belly until I was kneeling in front of her, my hands now on her hips.

It had been as perfect as a wet dream up to this point, but I was getting too lost in it, and wasn't being careful enough. Too soon, I slipped my hands under the hem of her shirt and into the waistband of her plain, somewhat old, white panties, one hand at each hip, intending to strip the panties swiftly off. It was as if she woke suddenly from a trance. She gripped my wrists and looked down at me with an almost terrified expression. I looked back, frozen and suddenly confused. Damn! Then she turned quickly and yanked the door handle. It didn't open - you'll remember I had locked it a few minutes earlier. She hurriedly and clumsily unlocked the door with her shaky hands as I stood and put a hand on her shoulder rather tentatively. She ignored my gesture and ran out of the bathroom, a few steps across the hall, and disappeared into her room. Damn, damn, damn!

I turned off the shower - I had finished washing long before. I toweled off and started to wrap my towel around my waist, then stopped and hung it back on the hook so I could brush my teeth in the nude, just in case she came back. She didn't, so I wrapped it around me and went out.

I paused, facing her door, for several seconds, lost in my disappointment. Then - was I imagining it? - it seemed I heard the faintest of rhythmic sounds coming from her room. I glanced up and down the short hall, then moved quietly closer and put my ear near the door, not quite touching it. There was a sound. It was very soft, but there was just the hint of the creak of a mattress, then eventually, a muted, high-pitched squeak that sounded like a choked-off cry, then a short while later, another. My pulse was once again racing. She was masturbating.

I knocked on the door. The noises stopped. Nothing happened. I knocked again. I heard her getting up and walking to the door. There was a pause - she was probably looking through the peep-hole - then the door slowly opened part-way and she peeked her head around its edge, hiding her body behind it.

"Can I come in?" I asked. She opened the door wider and stepped back. I entered and closed it behind me, my eyes fixed on hers and hers on mine. She wore her t-shirt, but not the robe or glasses. I moved two steps forward, which she matched with two steps backward. Then she stopped and I closed the distance between us and slid my hands around her waist, lowering my head to kiss her again.

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