Not necessarily my own first experience as it was second hand, but is my first true explicit exposure to CFNM as a 'thing' outside of casual childhood experiences. I hope it’s still alright to post here, but let me know if not.
When I was in my final year of high school (so 17-18 or so), I worked in a local leisure centre. This is like a sports centre with a swimming pool, gym, squash courts, etc. Many of the staff were of my age.
There was a pretty strict policy of not entering the changing rooms of the opposite gender unless necessary for safety. The rota was worked out so there would always be at least one member of each gender working each shift. If, for whatever reason, there was a staff shortage and you did need to go into the opposite changing room for something like cleaning, you were supposed to follow this big procedure to minimise any issues. I can’t remember it exactly what this was since it was pretty rare, but it was along the lines of turning off the music in the changing room, and shouting through the door that the changing room is to be cleaned by a male / female attendant shortly and that they should leave. We also had to rope off the entrance to stop anyone new from going in.
I was under the impression that this procedure was followed fairly well, with it was more being to do with the often high-school-aged staff’s protection more than the customers. This was until my leaving party when one of the female staff members (we’ll call her Ana), fairly drunk, openly boasted about how the girls would often walk into the men’s changing rooms to ‘clean’, even when I or another male member of staff was on the rota.
More than that though, this wasn’t a random thing, it was legitimately all coordinated via an exclusive WhatsApp group for select female staff. The receptionist on duty would see a guy either they liked or a guy they knew one of the other girls liked / knew. They would then message the group and someone else would cover their duties while the she went to the men's changing rooms to give it a ‘clean’.
Ana was in my year, but went to a different school. She was a slender Lithuanian girl who always, by her own admission, wore her uniform polo shirt and shorts a size too small to emphasise her quite nice breasts and very long legs. She and had these very distinctly graceful movements that I still remember to this day from when her parents forced her to take classical dance classes. I don't quite know how to describe it, she just carried herself very, very gracefully. Ana generally wore her exceptionally long brunette hair in a loose ponytail, all the while having one of those constant smiles on her face. Whether pony tail or not, she frankly made me diamonds.
At the party, Ana recalled so, so excitedly about how thrilled she was when she received a message from the receptionist on duty for the group that, not only was one of the guys from her class here to swim, but he was the only swimming entry for the past half hour, so the changing room would be empty except for him. While the school didn’t have a swim team, it was a guy who was very athletic, was very tall, and was considered by most of the girls to be very attractive.
Now the experience that she told me is naturally all second hand. I don’t know how much of it is really true. I can’t imagine why she’d lie though and it was all told in a fairly convincing way.
She recalled in great detail about how instead of going into the locker room straight after he’d arrived, she waited for him to finish swimming so he could be guaranteed he’d be showering at the time and, in her words, totally defenceless. She laughed about how she tried to come up with important looking tasks (like reviewing the viewing section) in the swimming pool area so she could keep an eye on him while he swam to make sure she caught him leaving. Eventually, he did finish up and left for the changing room. She followed.
She waited for him to enter and, as per policy, locked it off. Instead of waiting for 15 minutes though, gave it a good solid 2 minutes. Knock and announce her presence? Not a chance. She put her head up, took a deep breath, and strutted in with her cleaning trolley.
The shower room was in a separate area deeper into the changing room, but as she entered, she could hear the shower on. There was nobody else in the changing room, just as promised by the receptionist. Heart racing, she left the cleaning trolley and carefully walked over the entrance separating the changing room from the shower area. She peered round the corner and there she saw her classmate, totally naked, washing his hair in the shower, facing her with his cold-shrunken flaccid penis peeking out from under the soap suds.
Apparently, his eyes were closed and he didn’t even notice her standing there, giving her a nice few second to enjoy the view. In her words, of course said penis wasn't going to adjust to her being there when he didn't know she was there, but she was just mesmerised about how carefree his cock was as it just swung gently back and forth as he washed his hair, like it wasn't being intensely examined by one of his female classmates.
At this point, she took another deep breath and said, loudly, mop in one hand, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I knocked and nobody responded and I needed to clean otherwise my manager would get angr- Michael, is that you Michael? Oh my God.” (I can’t remember what his name was, I'm not even sure it was mentioned, so I’m going with Michael).
Michael, with shampoo still in his eyes, just hearing the young female voice calling his name turned his back to her and frantically tried to rinse his eyes out, before slowly turning his head with both hands covering his cock. She found this bit really funny, with him rapidly trying to blink the shampoo out of his eyes while trying to work out who was there. She spared him the effort.
“It’s me, Ana, from school”. She claimed to me that she desperately wanted to say this very nonchalantly, in a cool and collected manner. Unfortunately, it came out very, very excited - like a hahaha it’s MEEE, ANAAAAA, from your school, here watching yooooou. Naked.
He was just bewildered at this stage, totally confused and unsure what to do. Like this was not just a girl in the men's changing room, staring at him, but a classmate? How do you respond to that? The shower room was open so most, like him, just kept their towel with their stuff. It sure as hell wasn’t in reach at that moment. He managed to stutter out a question asking what she was doing here and, surprising to her, if he was in the wrong changing room. She responded, much cooler and more collected and, frankly, taken aback a bit by the question making her sound like the injured party and him the one at fault, “No, no, you’re in the right room…”
There was a pause.
She then snapped back to her breathless pre-rehearsed script “Sorry I just work here and needed to clean the men’s changing room because there wasn’t any male staff working today [this was a lie] and I knocked [this was a lie] and waited for a good while [this was a lie] but you didn’t respond [this is admittedly true] but I guess that’s because you were in the shower sorry again are you okay if I finish off quickly like I won’t be long [this was a lie, she would take her time] land won’t look or anything [this was definitely a lie] but-”
He interrupted her and waved her off saying something like “yeah yeah it’s fine sorry yeah it’s fin-”.
She then interrupted him herself “I’ll start with the locker room like you can finish off here, I’ll give you your privacy”. He sputtered an agreement. She apparently loved that little “I’ll give you your privacy” line, like a little jab reminder of his situation and the sheer power imbalance right now. She could grant him his privacy, and she could not - it was up to her. I can still remember the way she said that to me as well. Her accent was normally pretty native, but when she got excited you could hear little foreign intonations - this was one such occasion.
Now, I thought that the story was more or less done by now. Ana sees Michael naked – great. I was already pretty taken aback by how bold this all was – like we got along fairly well, but we were still just work colleagues, and here she was openly admitting her scheme to abuse her position, and all her female colleagues to abusing their position, all just to see boys naked. As is probably the classic line on this forum, if the situations were reversed it absolutely would not have been considered acceptable, but here she was laughing about it to me. In any case though, there was more. She gleefully look straight in my eyes, her perpetual smile morphed into a wide, mischievous grin. She leant in close and whispered “the best is yet to come” before recoiling back nodding excitedly as I expressed my surprise.
See, she left Michael confused in the shower and went back into the locker room area. That’s when she spotted his stuff sitting on the bench. As mentioned before, the open shower meant most would leave their stuff in the main locker room while they showered. She paused, thinking for a second, thinking whether she would actually push her luck to this extent. “Fuck it”, she thought, and grabbed it all together, stood on top of the bench, and placed it on top of the very tall lockers before climbing back down and getting on with cleaning the already very clean locker room. Very, very slowly, of course. This action itself wasn't all that uncommon, it wasn't unusual for us to pop stuff left behind on top of the lockers while we cleaned before grabbing it on the way out for the lost property box.
After about 15 minutes or so, the shower turned off. She thinks Michael was waiting for her to leave or mention that she needed to clean the shower room so they could swap, but it became apparent she would be there for a while and he decided to brave it.
He strutted out quickly, with his head down and one hand covering his cock, straight to where his stuff used to be. Emphasis, of course, on the 'used to be'. It was missing. She peeked out of the side of her eye while she mopped the floor as he frantically looked around for it. He started looking through some of the open lockers, thinking he just forgot his number and that his towel and clothes would just be waiting there for him. At this stage, Ana, still mopping and looks up at him, leaning on the mop.
“Sorry I had to clean the bench, if that was your stuff it’s just on top of the locker, don’t worry”.
He didn’t say anything but just turned himself away from her again and muttered a sigh of acknowledgement. She went back to mopping with her and, in her words again, absolutely loving just how easily she could make him feel so helpless one a mere flick of her eyes. She repeated her accented line from before to me "I could grant it him his privacy, and I could take it away". This time she decided to grant it and turned her back to him. After a few moments, his voice rung out.
“Uhhh how do I reach on top of the locker...?”
She turned round to him facing her, his hand still firmly placed over what was left of his dignity. She smiled, inside, but kept a straight face (although as she turned to face him, apparently couldn't help but take a quick almost unconscious glance check him out in his current state).
“Sorry, you have to stand on top of the bench”. She gestured with her hand, “I can grab it if you like?”
He declined immediately, but in her words, must’ve soon regretted that decision. He climbed on top of the bench but, even standing on top of the bench, it was still quite a reach. She had placed the stuff quite deep in and the bench was quite far from the locker. I'd done it myself when cleaning the changing rooms, mistakenly putting stuff too deep on top of the locker. You essentially had to lean across, supporting yourself with one hand on the locker, while grabbing what was on top with the other.
While he was working this out, she’d stopped mopping and walked over to cleaning trolley and ruffled about, all to get a good view of the forthcoming of course.
She started trying to make small talk.
“How are you for English Lit? All ready for the exam? I’m really struggling to learn the sonnets.”
At this stage, telling the story to me in the present day, she completely burst out laughing. She was in absolute stitches. This was, to her, the punchline of the story. Here she was, with one of the most attractive guys in her class standing precariously on stop of a bench, totally naked, on hand covering is penis, desperately trying to work out how to get his clothes without his female classmate ogling at his cock, all the while said classmate trying to discuss John fucking Donne and his metaphysical poetry. Other work staff had started to listen in at this stage and were giggling themselves, the girls clearly aware of the story. When they eventually calmed down, she continued.
He muttered out some polite meaningless words, “yeah those sonnets are really difficult”, or something to that effect, while he bobbed his head up and down like a chicken, trying to judge the distance, occasionally glancing across at her to check if there was any opening, one hand still thoroughly on his penis.
At this stage she deliberately squatted down to get something on the bottom level of the trolley, hoping to encourage him to bridge the gap when she wasn’t looking. He took the bait. She heard a grunting sound and immediately stood up, looking across at him stretched across the gap, one hand on the locker, one hand desperately reaching for his stuff, and all the while his cock and (she emphasised to me, strongly) balls wiggling helplessly back and forth with the motions.
She stared and smiled and stared some more, not even pretending to look for something in the trolley. Apparently at this stage her phone, which was sitting there on the tray, buzzed with a message and she just couldn’t help but wish and wish that she could grab it and take a video of what was going on to show to her girlfriends. Here was Michael, completely naked, a few feet in front of her, stretched full length with his feet on a bench and a hand on a locker, with his cock and balls dangling back and forth while he tried to retrieve his clothes which she, herself, had stashed away from him, all while she quizzed him about English Literature.
He looked across at her after hearing the phone buzz. He noticed her stare fixed on his penis and her, by this stage, her massive grin. His hand apparently recoiled for a second, instinctively going to cover himself before realising that it was much better to try to get his stuff as soon as possible.
With both hands she then leant on the trolley, arched herself forward with eyes still locked on the obvious, and she stated in a very matter of fact voice: “Yeah, I think I have Death Be Not Proud, but the others are a blur”.
He muttered out a breathless "Yeah" as she watched his struggle. Eventually, after what was probably only a few seconds but what felt like minutes, he dragged his bag his hand and jumped down, immediately turning his back to her as he frantically shuffled through the bag for his towel. He ripped it out and wrapped it round his waist.
“Yeah, Yeats is a pain too”, he eventually responded in a breathless voice trying desperately to act cool and disguise what had just happened.
At this stage he got dressed under his towel while she pretended to clean the rest of the locker room. They made some more small talk and she eventually left the changing room.
She never recounted how he or she reacted next time they met in class, but I’d imagine it would’ve been interesting.
At this stage a few other work staff piped in with stories of their experiences wandering into the male locker rooms, but none were quite as eventual. Just stuff like walking in and watching every guy one by one realise a young woman was watching them and enjoying their own unique reactions. Happy to recount them as best as I can if there’s any interest, but they’re not as (at least in my view) exceptional as the above.
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