Thoughts On Coed Bathrooms

Dan was kind enough to start a conversation about the shower scene in my previous story, which got us onto the subject of coed bathrooms, and then he was kind enough to let me continue my ruminations on the subject in public for the entertainment of all.

First of all, at Sveta's college, they are coed by dorm but not by room. I went to a school where you could literally room with anyone you wanted, and had my living situation not worked out so well I might have considered, foolishly, rooming with a guy, and no one would have made much of it. I say "foolishly" however because while it was completely normal to room with a member of the opposite gender, it didn't happen all that often and when it did happen it often wound up being a really bad idea. The people who made it work were usually not sexually involved, for reasons of sexuality or just because they were friends, not lovers. Lovers who decided to room together often wound up broken up by the end of the term and absolutely miserable in their living arrangements. Moving in together is not something to be taken lightly.

Anyway, Ernst could have Sveta over to his room with no problem, and she often sleeps there I'm told, but she couldn't be his official roommate. But she can use the bathroom in his hallway with no problem; there's only one bathroom for four or five rooms, and it's cheerfully coed. I remember a certain degree of bathroom fun when I was in college, but I'm given to understand that Ernst and Sveta have never done anything like that, although they may get around to it.

So it wasn't gender proscriptions that kept Ernst from joining us in the shower, it was simple physics; two objects can't occupy the same space, no matter how much fun it is to try, and two was probably more than the limit of those small showers, so three would have been impossible. Again, it might have been fun to try.

It's funny though; I've never lived in a situation where I didn't have to share my bathroom with someone, usually too many people. Sveta, lucky minx that she is, actually only has to share her bathroom with her roomie; they have their own bathroom as part of their room. It's not huge, but still. And I've heard stories that some colleges have singles with bathrooms attached. I had to share my college bathroom with all sorts of people, and it wasn't exactly private either, so people who didn't live in the dorm could use our bathrooms as well.

And then there's my home life. It's a bit better now, but despite having a very nice bathroom, we only have one, and as Dan commented, with six people, four of them women (although to be fair I'm usually quite quick in my morning ablutions) the bathroom becomes crowded in a hurry. Even in a family like mine, where one person could be showering, one could be using the toilet, and one could be at the sink, that's still only half the people in the house at any given time, and certain activities take longer than others.

So, when we were all still in school and having to leave at about the same time, we had to work in shifts. There was a schedule posted. I was always in the middle somewhere, which kind of sucked, so at a certain point in my life I started showering in the evening, which also kind of sucked, so I went back to the schedule. The plus side was that often enough I didn't need an alarm; whoever was ahead of me in the queue would poke me when they were through. In the mornings, we usually didn't take all that long in the actual bathroom, and brushing your teeth in the kitchen was sometimes required, to say nothing of running around naked, which was normal, dripping wet, which made my parents yell at us for leaving puddles.

At a certain point, Mike and I came to an agreement, since he was usually last in, being the youngest. We'd shower together and attempt not to do anything distracting. Our tub is big enough that it can easily work to shower two at a time, and for a while we were pretty good about it. It meant that we had more hot water and more time, and it was a decent arrangement. But unless things were really running behind, we would often find ourselves unable to resist, and while that didn't usually mean anything much beyond a bit of teasing, sometimes it would mean a whole lot more. Better than coffee, I tell you.

Mike is a guy who can last for a respectable amount of time, not epic but more than enough to make me happy, but unlike my Dad who is pretty much a marathon, Mike can dial back on his resilience or something. I don't know what exactly he does, and if he forces it too much it doesn't work out well, but he can say, "Okay, we've got precisely 7 minutes here, and so I'm going to get you off once and then I'll finish up as quickly as I can." Not that we ever said anything like that, but he can fuck to fit the time, I guess is what I'm saying.

Normally we'd clean up first, and depending on the time (of course we had to have a clock in the bathroom so people would keep on schedule; my family can sometimes be a bit Prussian) we'd do various things with what remained. I have fond memories of brushing my teeth while bent over the sink, Mike's cock thrusting in and out as he built toward climax. Sometimes, if things were rushed or if it just happened, we'd get each other off while soaping up. Only occasionally would Mike be the only one who got something out of it; I might give him a blowjob while he was shaving, but even then often enough he'd pull me up and cream me after a few thrusts, just so I'd get a little something out of it.

I don't want it to seem like I was getting morning sex every day; for one thing, Mike and I didn't start showering together until fairly late (I often wish we'd started earlier) and then many days we were too tired or stressed or hurried. And then once Mari went to college, things eased up a little. And of course summers were totally different. Not that I wasn't getting sex other times of the day, but Mike had Sheri and Mom to satisfy too.

I miss it sometimes, when I'm forced to wake up early for something. I miss just being in the shower with him, even if nothing was going on but bathing. I miss being in the steamy room brushing my teeth, elbowing him out of the way of the mirror, sneaking little touches of his skin. I definitely miss his hand covered in soap lathering up between my legs, then slipping a finger in cheekily, knowing that we didn't have any time to do anything else but be cheeky. Going to school, cum soaking my panties, sometimes so badly that I'd have to go to the bathroom before first period and take them off, wipe myself off, and then either go the rest of the day without or put the soiled ones back on after blotting them a bit.

Weekends, of course, were when I might luck out and get some time in the tub with the old man, and that was completely different but also wonderful. I remember once Mike bought this soap which was supposed to be specially formulated to clean your asshole, and he put it all over his cock and then bent me over in the shower and fucked my ass with his soapy cock until we both discovered that it was more abrasive than it seemed. That wasn't a weekday, but still, it's a nice, if somewhat painful, memory. Don't use anus soap as lube, kids. That's my message for today.