Let me introduce myself.

Call me Sarah.

I don’t consider myself a top model, but I am still an attractive girl. Boys go crazy for my baby face—I’m 23 years old, but they occasionally mistake me for a juvenile—covered in freckles and framed by a red mane. I can’t complain about my breasts either; they’re little but firm, with two nipples that protrude long and hard when I’m horny. But my genuine strong point is my rump. I jog frequently, so my buttocks are particularly solid. Needless to say, the guys adore grabbing and slapping them.

I played basketball in middle school, and I wasn’t too bad, though not being an ace. Knowing that I wasn’t completely inept, I gladly accepted the offer from a few friends to participate in a basketball match. They needed a tenth player, and I was apparently the last choice. It would have been a nice alternative to running.

What was I thinking? Having spent the entire game chasing the ball in vain, never touching it, I was exhausted by the end. I assumed that because I jogged regularly, I would be able to keep up with my team. I had clearly overestimated myself, and every fiber of my muscles crying for mercy served as a reminder of my pride.

I clenched my teeth until the match was over and then went to get the keys to one of the locker rooms from the facility manager. As the only female on the team, I could not shower in the same locker area as my teammates!

Once inside the locker room, I dropped onto the bench and lay there for ten minutes. Thoughts started flying and bouncing around my mind. Who motivated me to play? In the nine years since my last basketball match, I had either forgotten how to play or had clearly played with a bunch of idiots in middle school.

At least my teammates never mocked me for my poor performance.

Despite the discomfort, I finally found the strength—and, more importantly, the will—to rise up and begin to undress.

“A refreshing shower will wash away the sweat and the stench of failure, you incompetent fool,” I said to myself.

I tried to remove my bra, but a sharp pang of pain made me moan. I didn’t give up. Despite my aches and sufferings, I was finally able to strip and walk to the showers, as best I could ignore my sore feet.

The shower room was a single, open area with no partitions. There was no space to hang a towel or put down the shower gel.

“What misery!” I grumbled to myself.

I flung the bathrobe into a corner and stood beneath one of the showerheads, holding the shower gel in my hand.

I was weary and aching in an uncomfortable locker room. Could things have been worse? At the very least, the warm water cascading down on my bare body softly cleansed my skin of sweat and soothed my battered muscles.

That situation might have been almost lovely if someone hadn’t arrived to disrupt the idyll. In fact, it was more than one person. I heard a door open and the voices of numerous lads.

Fuck! fuck! fuck! I forgot to lock the door!

“It’s taken!” I yelled from the shower room, hoping it would be enough to deter the intruders from going beyond the vestibule.

“Is anyone there?” a voice asked.

“It’s taken!” I replied firmly.

My only chance to avoid the horny stares of a bunch of potentially turned-on males was to wear a bathrobe, but I had carelessly left it far from the shower.

“Hey, you’re a girl!” one of the intruders exclaimed. “Great!”

Some of his buddies burst into applause and boos.

I felt my anger rising and demanded, “Are you leaving? The showers are taken!”

“Come on, don’t be grumpy!” said the first boy to speak. His words were met with scornful laughs.

“The other changing room is taken,” claimed another guy.

I heard bags being thrown to the floor, indicating that they had no intention of leaving.

“I’m going to take a shower!” I insisted for a third time. “Get out!”

“Are you doing all this naked?” another person asked in a foolish tone.

More scornful laughs followed.

“What do you think?” I replied sarcastically, then I snarled through gritted teeth, “Asshole!”

Another voice said, “You can leave if you want. We promise not to look.”

“I can’t promise anything,” an idiot squawked.

My anger grew, but a hint of fear crept in. What could I do? I had a bubble bath in my hand, which would provide very little coverage for my naked body. I could sprint to the corner where I had left my bathrobe, but the guys would still see me naked from the locker room’s entrance. I could already imagine their excitement and the mockery that would rain down on me. Damn, what a situation!

I couldn’t afford to be late, as the dudes would surely enter the shower room at any moment. It was better to hurry up and suffer the humiliation of being seen naked than to risk something worse.

I needed to act quickly. Gathering my courage, I ran out of the showers, only to collide with a solid wall of flesh.

“Ouch!” I yelled, falling clumsily to the ground. However, the guy didn’t budge an inch.

I looked up timidly as the boys entered the shower room one by one. I counted approximately ten of them, all nude, with different cocks on display: huge, slender, long, small, hairy, hairless, light, black, with foreskin and uncircumcised. I had never seen such a varied group of cocks before! I once had a threesome with two guys, but that was nothing compared to this!

I instinctively crawled backward across the soggy floor till my back met a chilly wall. I jumped. The boys stared at me, both mocking and excited.

Someone said, “Do you like our cocks, chick?”

“Don’t be idiots; come on,” I said softly as I rose up.

“You’re the idiot here!” said a tall, blond guy with an athletic frame. “We just want to take a shower; you’re the one making a mess!”

I went back to glancing at their cocks. Some were fully erect, boldly upright. A black guy with a bare-necked cock confirmed the stereotype about the sexual endowments of black men.

As expected, I became afraid; yet, I was also mesmerized by those hard-ons. I struggled to look away and took a few steps toward the bathrobe, frantic to flee. Then I heard a thud. I came to a halt, looked down, and saw a bar of soap flung by someone only a few feet away.

“Pick it up, come on,” the blond guy urged, a dirty grin spreading over his face.

“Yes, come on, bend over,” another voice echoed.

They clearly wanted to humiliate me. A few guys even began to jack off slowly.

My breath caught, and a feeling of claustrophobia gripped my stomach. However, that didn’t stop me from taking a few more steps towards the bathrobe.

“If you want to go out, we won’t stop you,” the blond man promised. “We’re not maniacs!”

“Speak for yourself!” said yet another fucking moron.

“Come on, joking aside, go out!” the blond one said to me.

Perhaps it was just another prank, but I gave the guy a graceful smile. Then I resumed walking, my heart racing. Near the bathrobe, I felt the hot tip of a cock stroking against my thigh. A sudden rush of heat and excitement caused me to quiver and stop. Damn, what an amazing feeling!

My heart hastened. On one hand, I was eager to leave, yet a part of me desired to stay. My legs obviously refused to cooperate, and I stayed frozen for several seconds.

“Have you changed your mind?” said the black guy.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I focused on the bar of soap that lay alone in the center of the room. Once again, my legs took control. I was suddenly amidst the group of horny boys, bent over the bar of soap, as they moved independently.

A second later, I felt the huge head of a cock press against my exposed cooch, sinking in like a knife through butter. I was surprised at how wet I had involuntarily gotten at the prospect of being assaulted by that herd of cocks. Well, I was about to be satisfied.

Chaos broke out in the shower room. The other guys erupted in yells, taunts, and slurs thrown at me as they clustered close, each wanting their time in my cooch. Some strong hands gripped my wrists till they hurt, guiding my fingers into their boners, while other guys roughly clawed my breasts and thighs.

I’m not sure how long the hunk mounted me from behind, but he eventually grunted and came within me. He didn’t even inquire if I used the pill or if I was in my fertile window. Bravo!

The rush of pleasure that hit me was so strong that I lost my equilibrium as soon as the boy emerged from my soaking cooch.

Nobody helped me, and nothing prevented me from suffering a close encounter of the fourth kind with the floor. The ache in my legs and hands was excruciating.