My experiences with the dormitory supervisor

In university dormitories, you don't need a key to enter; you just use fingerprint scanning. It was very convenient, so I gradually stopped carrying keys.
One summer, I was taking English tutoring at school. The weather was incredibly hot. Every morning around five or six o'clock, I would wake up from the heat and toss and turn, unable to fall back asleep, drenched in sweat.
One morning in August, I couldn't stand the heat any longer. I got up, grabbed a basin, and went to the communal bathroom to take a shower. There was no one in the building, so I took off my underwear and went in naked.
Perhaps all the students in the building had gone home for summer vacation, because the water from the taps wasn't cool; it seemed to have been scalding hot after being in the building all night.
I showered for a long time before I felt a little cooler and decided to go back to sleep. Just as I reached the door, I suddenly noticed someone coming up from the fifth floor. It was the building's cleaning lady. She didn't seem to notice me and continued walking slowly to my vicinity. There was a trash can near my dormitory, so she came over and started emptying it.
I tried to rush inside, but the fingerprint lock wouldn't open. Looking down, I realized my hands were wrinkled from washing for so long. Being completely naked, I couldn't dry my hands, and the wet lock made it even harder to open.
She slowly moved closer, and I became increasingly nervous. I pressed the fingerprint button hard with one hand, but my other hand started to slip, unable to hold the basin. I lifted one leg, propped the basin up on it, and continued scanning.
By then, she was right next to me; I saw her watching me out of the corner of my eye.
This woman was over forty, but still looked at me with curiosity. She asked why I wasn't wearing clothes.
I couldn't explain, and continued trying to scan the fingerprint. She gently pushed me aside and unlocked the door for me.
Once inside, I was still shaken, but also thrilled.
The next day, I vaguely heard her wake up when she came upstairs. I went to shower again, still naked when I came out.
She heard me come out and quickly looked up at me. This time, I deliberately came out, feeling both nervous and excited. She must have seen a young, naked man emerge from the house, his genitals engorged with blood. She didn't say anything, just returned a glance. I brushed past her, and she only looked at me sideways, offering no further comment.
Then, when I was showering, she passed by the door sweeping, sweeping a little longer and glancing at me a few times.
For the next week, as if by unspoken agreement, I showed her my naked body every day.
Of course, we didn't do anything. Two weeks later, as more people came, we stopped dating.
However, every time I saw her, she would give me a look, full of ambiguity.

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My experiences with the dormitory supervisor

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