Being a team player

She used the toilet and stepped into the cavernous room used as a shower. The sea green tiled walls had a separate showerhead on each of the three enclosing walls and a central floor drain. She turned each of the showers on and adjusted the water temperature to just beneath the pain level and stepped into their merging stream. She wanted to try to wash away the memory of her indiscretion of the night before.

Her matted and tangled hair absorbed the torrent of water and dripped down the rest of her body. The junction of her legs ached from the pounding of the athletic crew of men who had used her body the night before. Her nipples were bruised from the constant torment of pinching fingers, sucking lips and biting teeth. She rested her hands on the wall and let the center shower cascade down her neck and back as the other two hit her full force on her shoulders.

She felt the cold draft as the shower curtain was opened and then closed but didn’t allow herself to start. Soon she felt a pair of hands sliding along her back and shoulders. She glanced down as the hands came around to her stomach and saw their dark color so she knew it was one of the ball players. She jumped when the soapy hands ran across her sore nipples and she swatted them away. The hands continued to lather her aching body, working their way down her thighs and calves and even kneeling to wash her feet and between her toes.