I watch her from the doorway, my eyes glued to the sight of her beautiful body. God I shouldn't be here. I know I'd get in a lot of trouble for doing this, but after stumbling upon her showering, I just can't tear myself away. I've always thought she was beautiful clothed, but now that I can see every inch of her silky smooth skin, I'm absolutely transfixed. I watch as the water hits her face, running over her makeup-free skin and sliding down her neck. I watch as a drop of water rolls over the smooth hills of her chest, dripping off the tip of her breast onto that flat, perfect stomach.
My eyes leave the drop, focusing on those full, luscious breasts. They have got to be two of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. They're so firm, so perky, so absolutely perfect, like everything about her. My gaze moves to her pert nipples, the tender red flesh wet and glistening, beads of water running over them, reminding me of beads of dew on a flower. I lick my lips unconsciously, moving my eyes from one nipple to the other, then letting my gaze roam back up the silky skin of her chest, taking in the sight of those round, perfect breasts.
I move my gaze lower, visually exploring the flat planes of her stomach and abs, then skipping down to her ankles, admiring how even they seem to be perfect. My eyes run up her powerful calves, over her knees, stopping again at her gorgeous, magnificently crafted thighs. Her thighs are strong and powerful, yet graceful as well, covered with the same soft, delicate skin as the rest of her luscious body. I let my eyes roam up further, over her exquisite bottom, then over the skin of her hip, settling on the small patch of curly brown hair between her thighs.
I unconsciously moan, looking again over her perfect body, my eyes once again captivated by her breasts. My fingers slip under my shirt, my hands undoing to clasp of my bra. I'm hardly even aware of it as my fingers pinch my nipples to erectness, kneading my breasts as I watch her run a bar of soap over her own chest and stomach. I want her. I want her so badly, I can taste it. I can feel the wetness growing between my thighs, soaking through my panties. At the moment, I couldn't care less. All I can think of is her, her beautiful soft skin, her gorgeous breasts, her amazing thighs.
I jump nearly out of my skin as the sound of running water abruptly stops. I blink, watching her as she grabs a towel and wraps it around herself. The extreme disappointment which surges through me at the loss of her gorgeous naked form almost makes me want to cry. As she heads my way, still not realizing that I'm here, I quickly fasten my bra and pull my hands out of my shirt, well aware of the wetness between my legs but unable to do anything about it. I look around frantically, throwing myself onto a bench and snatching a magazine out of a nearby bag, opening it and pretending to read.
She walks through the door, seeing me and smiling. "Hey Tori," she says in a friendly manner, walking over to her bag and pulling out fresh clothes.
"Steph," I say with a nod, shocked that my voice actually comes out without trembling. I pretend to be engrossed in the magazine, still watching her out of the corner of my eye. She shakes out her tshirt, the exposed tops of her breasts bouncing in a way that makes the ache inside of me grow. I have to bite my lip as she bends over to grab a bra from her bag, her towel slipping just a little too far up her thigh. I can feel the wetness between my legs steadily growing. Oh god, if I don't get out of here soon I'm going to explode.
Then, making my desire for her still greater, she turns away from me, pulling off the towel and wrapping it around her waist. I can see the tip of one of her breasts, including one of those rosy, perfect nipples, peaking out from beyond her back. Oh god. I have this nearly uncontrollable urge to pounce on her and take that luscious nipple between my lips, wanting desperately to feel her satiny flesh fill my mouth.
I take a deep breath, willing myself to close my eyes. They remain wide open, though, watching as she slips on a bra, hiding that beautiful bud from my vision. Her tshirt goes on next, then her panties and skirt, but not before I get a great view of her behind and thighs, just as full of supple curves as her perfect breasts.
She turns to me, smiling and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow," she tells me, then steps out of the door. I'm left sitting on the bench staring after her, trying to calm my wildly excited body. I can't feel this way about the boss' daughter, especially not the boss' straight daughter. But still, I do.
THE END