Janitor Secretly Watches Two Women Shower In The School Gym
Table of Contents
Janitor Hears Laughter After Hours
It was almost 6 p.m. The gym should’ve been dark by now, locked and silent. But it wasn’t.
I was on my last round, keys swinging from my belt, lights already half off, when I heard it. The soft splash of water. Then laughter. Faint, female. Coming from the back wing. The old locker rooms.
It stopped me in my tracks.
I knew every voice in this place. Every door that creaked, every bench that squeaked. But this? This wasn’t a mistake. Someone had stayed behind.
And they hadn’t told anyone.
I moved quiet, down the side corridor, boots soft on the linoleum. The door to the women’s changing room stood open just a crack. Inside, light glowed under the shower-room tiles. Warm. Wet. Alive.
I stepped into the shadows.
Two Sexy Young Women Shower With No Idea Who's Watching
They were both there. Two of them. Late teens, maybe early twenties. Sport students probably. Maybe trainee teachers.
One was tall and lean, short dark hair slicked down, water running in smooth lines down her back. The other was shorter, more curves, long blonde hair soaked through. Their bodies glistened under the flickering light, steam swirling around them.
They didn’t know I was there. Didn’t look. Didn’t check. They laughed, rinsed, lathered up again. Completely naked. Completely relaxed.
I stood behind the wall of lockers, still as stone, invisible. And watched.
The blonde had her back to me. Wide hips. A full, soft backside that moved gently as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
She raised her arms, tied her hair up, and gave me a perfect view of the stretch of her spine, the lines of her waist, the roundness below.
Her friend stood sideways, facing the wall.
Water poured over her chest, her nipples stiff in the cold air. She rubbed soap slowly along her ribs, then under her breasts. Her hands moved without shame—without hurry.
Their conversation drifted toward me.
Janitor Secretly Watches Hot Students In The Shower
“…I swear I bombed that teaching theory quiz,” the blonde said, laughing.
“You didn’t even study. What did you expect?” the dark-haired girl replied, reaching for the shampoo.
“Hey, I was busy. Not all of us have boring boyfriends who make us flashcards.”
“Right. You were busy flirting with that guy from the weight room.”
The blonde snorted. “He’s not my type. He’s all arms and no brain.” They laughed together. The sound was soft. Familiar. It filled the room more than the water did.
“I bet the janitor heard us,” the dark-haired girl said suddenly, joking. I stiffened. But the blonde just laughed again.
“What’s he gonna do? Write us up?” A pause. “I don’t even think he speaks. He just walks around like some ghost. Honestly, he kinda creeps me out.”
Her friend giggled. “Come on. I think it’s cute. Quiet. Harmless. Probably goes home and writes poetry.”
“More like goes home and…” She cut herself off with another laugh. My jaw tightened. They didn’t know. But they were close. Closer than they thought.
Still, they kept moving, kept washing. The taller one now turned fully toward her friend, giving me a full view: Wet thighs, soft stomach, breasts that moved with every shift of her feet. She stepped under the water, tilted her head back. The spray hit her face, and her lips parted.
Naked Female Bodies Move Through Water Like They’re Alone
The blonde was on her knees now. Not for any reason, just reaching for something on the bench behind her. Her ass was high, round, dripping. I could see every inch of her… Soaked, smooth, shining under the white gym light.
She stood up again, slowly. Ran her hands over her body, flicked water from her fingers. Her nipples were hard. The cold? Or the moment?
“I miss swimming,” she said suddenly. “Used to do it every morning.”
“Then do it. Pool’s open at six.”
“Too early,” she grinned. “Unless someone wants to come watch me in a swimsuit.”
“Watch? Girl, I’ve seen you in a swimsuit.”
More laughter. More soft water sounds. Steam rising, voices echoing off the tiles.
And me: Standing in silence, hidden just meters away, watching every movement.
They moved like they were truly alone. Like the world had stopped outside that tiled room. They lathered slow, stretched their limbs, leaned into each other’s space without even thinking about it. No shame. No awareness. Just body and water.
Peeping Janitor Slips Away Without a Sound
Eventually, the showers stopped.
The dark-haired girl turned off the tap first. Grabbed her towel. Water still dripping from her breasts as she stepped out, shaking her head like a dog. Drops hit the floor. Her thighs brushed as she walked to the bench.
Her friend followed. Hair undone again, water sliding down her spine. She took her time. Turned toward the mirror. Looked at her own body as she dried her skin.
Neither of them looked toward the door. Neither noticed me.
And I didn’t move. Not yet.
I watched them dress slowly. Still laughing, still talking, still half-naked as they toweled off. They looked like they’d done this a hundred times. Comfortable. Effortless. Beautiful in the most careless, dangerous way.
Then they left. Voices fading down the hall.
I stood there another minute. Silent. Breathing steady.
Then I turned, stepped back into the hallway, and locked the door behind me.
