I (Matt) had just started a new job on the other side of Wellington, closer to my home in Newtown and decided that I would help save the planet, and a few bucks, by commuting to work by bike. Wellington is not particularly bike-friendly, the motorists are especially thoughtless, but it’s the hills that really make me sweat. I’m no Lance Armstrong, but keep fit enough to push my front-rower's body along efficiently enough. I’m just a tad under 6 ft with broad shoulders and solid thighs. Not your typical cyclist's physique, but I get plenty of compliments about my shoulders, chest and abs. No Lycra for me though. I prefer to keep the shape of my ass and package to myself. I had checked out my new workplace and found the one set of Gents' bathrooms with a shower. There were lockers to store my bike helmet, shower and shaving essentials, and clothes. I figured I could padlock a locker and leave a week's worth of ironed shirts there and avoid having to lug too much stuff between home and work. Between the hills, crappy weather and crappier drivers, biking to work wasn’t that popular, and judging by the empty lockers, I was the only staff member to use the facilities. Most of my colleagues seemed happy to put up with Wellington's buses. I had enjoyed the change of workplace, getting to know new colleagues and quickly got into an efficient morning routine. Once I understood timing, I was able to delay my wake-up alarm to the latest possible time, enjoying every bit of time in bed possible, while still getting to work and showered ready for the day on time. That changed a few weeks after I started. I arrived at work, locked my bike went into the building up the back steps as usual, and was pretty grumpy to find the shower locked. I stood there looking at the 'engaged' sign for at least 5 minutes. Whoever was in there was taking their sweet time, so to avoid being too late I shaved, undressed, and wrapped myself in a towel ready for the shower as soon as it was free. And I waited some more. Time was marching on. I had heard the shower stop, but there was still no sign of anyone coming out and my clock-on time at work was fast approaching. Just as I was about to knock on the door, quite impatient at this point, it opened and I just about dropped my towel. Standing before me, also wrapped in a towel, also surprised enough to almost drop it was a drop-dead gorgeous woman. Even more gorgeous with that fresh-out-of-the-shower glow. “Fuck” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me” she stammered, staggering backwards slightly. She clutched her towel around her tightly, and gathered herself before apologising. She was beautiful. Light brown and still-wet straight shoulder-length hair, green eyes, athletic, and tanned. I had time to admire her great tits, made even more impressive being pushed up with her arms clutched around her. “Sorry. There’s no shower in the Ladies. I didn't know you were waiting.” She looked slightly embarrassed. Red faced, which I attributed to the shower. “Hey, no worries” I managed to blurt out, shuffling back myself, holding my towel closed self-consciously, giving her plenty of room to walk past me. She couldn’t get away quickly enough. I stood there watching her go, partly still from the shock of a woman coming out of the gents' shower and partly enjoying the view of her gorgeous backside, only just covered by her towel. I had a shower, started my work-day late and didn’t think much more of it. Ok, that's bullshit. I spent a few minutes in the shower longer than usual, wanking furiously, fantasising about the gorgeous woman I had just encountered. Rather than the usual functional shower, I closed my eyes, enjoyed the hot water and focussed on the sensation of hot slippery soapy pressure on my cock, and the tip of a finger in my ass. Even if it was self-administered, it was sensational. Being late for work wasn’t a big deal, and I found out at smoko that the new girl on the team was Jean. I introduced myself at her 'welcome' morning tea and we had a bit of a laugh about the morning's encounter. She had lost any sense of embarrassment and had a carefree way about her, with a hint of cheekiness. Dried, her hair was lighter than I’d seen it in the morning, and her skirt and heels made her legs and ass look even better than I’d seen it shuffling away in the morning. She had just moved to Wellington from Auckland and had decided to bike to work too. With no shower in the Ladies, and it seemingly being just us at work that needed the shower, we agreed timing. Despite my gentlemanly offer, Jean insisted that she would get there earlier so I could maintain my usual routine. Apparently she was happy that I was there first and shouldn’t be put out by her. “Besides”, she said with a wink “it means you can stay in bed longer, and you need all the beauty sleep you can get”. The arrangement worked fine for a few weeks. Normally I would get there just as Jean was finishing up in the shower. Sometimes she was finished and had left before I got there - especially mornings when I’d stayed in bed thinking of her and wanking while thinking of her in the shower. Sometimes I had to wait a moment or two while she finished. I loved those mornings, and it seemed she did too, for the moments we would share with only a couple of towels between us. Over time we went from accomodating, to familiar, to friendly to flirty. Once, we arrived at the back stairs at the same time and Jean raced up the stairs in front of me insisting “I always come first” with a cheeky giggle. There’s no way I was going to beat her in a sprint up stairs but I was happy to watch her Lycra-clad backside disappear up the stairs in front of me. Thank god for Lulu Lemon. The sight of a nice ass or camel-toe in that gear drives my imagination into overdrive. I was late for work that day, having spent a few minutes in the shower imaging her ‘coming first’ in an entirely different way. One day I’m sure she deliberately used an undersized towel to show me a bit more of her beautiful body. Another day the door to the shower was left open a few inches. I turned up and watched Jean finish her shower routine. Whether she knew I was there or not she put on amazing show bending over to show me her ass, spending a lot of time ‘washing’ between her legs and soaping up her tits. I sat outside wanking under my towel until she came out. Most memorably, one day I turned up and the shower wasn’t going and the door wasn’t locked so I burst in assuming she had finished and gone. Instead, she was in the room, out of the shower naked, drying herself, with her back to the door. It was a spectacular view of her ass but I was too quick to be a gentleman and I backed out, closing the door to her giggles and my exclamation of surprise. I’m sure she looked down at my crotch when she left, walking past me saying “Have a good day. Hope it’s not too hard”. I kicked myself for not trying to make something more of the situation, but I figured it was all in my head. Everything changed one Friday at after-work drinks. ‘Flirty’ moved very quickly to ‘fun and filthy’.... more to come.