As if in a fugue state, I follow behind Yasmeena as we make our way towards the bathroom. It’s a larger structure, one of the few made of wood instead of metal and fabric, and inside are many bathroom stalls and showers. It’s spacious, enough to where two people could be in there and have no idea there’s someone else just a few walls down.
Except today it feels remarkably small. Suffocating, even.
Yasmeena just stares at me. I get into one of the showers and begin removing my clothes, careful to not let her see me.
What the fuck is wrong with you? She sees you in leotards and bodysuits every day?
Opening the door, I go to throw my clothes down, and catch Yasmeena fully nude as she turns the door handle to the adjacent shower stall.
She has the roundest, prettiest ass I have ever laid eyes on.
She steps inside, the foggy glass ruining my perfect view, and I watch the silhouette of Yasmeena move as she washes off her body.
Get back in your own shower, Tempest.
Hurriedly, I step back inside, and I swear I hear her giggle as I turn the water on. Putting the shampoo into my hands, I run my fingers through my long, silvery-white hair.
I hear a whimpering sound, smell her pheromones, and it’s as though a switch was flipped inside me. A switch I can’t seem to flip back off.
A thin wooden wall is between me and Yasmeena touching herself, and it takes everything in me not to punch a hole right through it. To not open her door and barge right in.
She may have invited me to follow her, but she didn’t inviteme inside. I couldn’t cross that line, not now. Not knowing everything I’m about to put her through.
Or maybe I can. Maybe I should. Maybe giving in to this chemistry between us would actually help our campaign. This might be a test, but it’s one I didn’t study for, so I don’t know how to ace it. I’ll just have to create a test of my own.
Wielding my magic, I feel the water as it rushes through the pipes and out of my showerhead above. I follow the pipelines until I can sense the ones running into Yasmeena’s shower and freeze the water. Not enough to break anything, just enough so that her water stops running.
A few moments go by that feel like forever, but nothing happens.
Tap. Tap.
She’s outside my shower door, I can see her silhouette through the foggy glass. The round curves of her hips, the outline of her chest and tail. There are many shower stalls in this bathroom, and she’s free to enter any of them, but she chose mine.
“Hey,” she says as she opens the door and steps inside. “The water in my shower just… stopped working? Really strange, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
I am using every bit of self restraint I have not to stare at the pretty, plump pussy I caught a glimpse of as she stepped in, but I grow weaker and weaker by the second.
“Yeah, of course.” I take in a deep breath, steeling every muscle not to grab her and slam her against the glass.
I can smell her arousal and she smellssounbelievably good. I don’t know if I should turn around to give her privacy, or leave. Part of me thinks it’s disrespectful to stay, especially with the way I feel right now, but another part of me knows this is instinctual.
She wouldn’t smell the way she does now if she didn’t want me, too, right?
When we practice trapeze, our height difference barely seems noticeable to me. Here? She looks petite; I feel as though I’m towering over her, and it only adds to my desire.
I ache to hold her, to touch her. I want to lift her up and let her legs wrap around me, pushing her against the glass, but instead I just stare down at her, watching the water hit the back of her head.
Yasmeena bites her lower lip. “Would you help me, princess?”
I struggle to swallow, my voice coming out heavier than I intend it. “Help you with what?”
“The shampoo,” she says, and looks up at the bottle behind me.
I go to hand it to her, but she’s already turned around.
Fuck it.
Taking a handful of shampoo, I work my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and ears. Yasmeena lets out a soft moan, the sound is like music.
