Steam in Separation

The heat slammed into my face the second I stepped through the door. She was standing by the far shelf, her back to me, peeling off a sheet—slowly, like she was putting on a show. Her skin was still glistening with moisture, droplets trembling on her shoulder blades. I knew that curve of her spine by heart. Three months—and here she was, in the dim haze of our bathhouse, smelling of birch and her own skin.

"You lock the door?" she asked, not turning around.

"Marina, we're divorced."

"I asked if you locked the door."

I clicked the bolt shut. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the silence. Marina turned, and the sheet slid down to her feet. Her tits—heavy, warm—swayed in the half-light. Her nipples, dark and swollen, stared at me like an accusation.

"Why are we doing this?" My voice cracked. I didn't even recognize it.

"Because I'm cold," she said, stepping closer. "Three months and nobody's warmed me up."

I swallowed hard. That familiar heat pooled low in my gut. She ran her palm across my chest, her finger catching on a button of my shirt.

"You're sweating. Take it off."

I stripped while watching her sink onto the lower bench. The wood groaned under her weight. She spread her knees, and I saw the glisten between them—wet, dark, inviting. My cock went rock-hard instantly, aching.

"Marina..."

"Come here. Just be quiet. Someone could walk in any minute."

I dropped to my knees in front of her. The smell of her pussy hit me like a freight train—hot, female, mine. I kissed the inside of her thigh, feeling her shiver. Her skin was salty with sweat.

"Careful," she whispered, but her fingers were already tangled in my hair. "The neighbor downstairs... she knows we're here."

I dragged my tongue along her slit—from the bottom all the way up to her clit. Marina gasped and bit down on her knuckle. She tasted like warm cream, thick and sweet. I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, slow, lazy circles. Her thighs were trembling.

"Yeah..." she breathed out. "Don't stop."

I ate her out, listening to the water gurgle in the boiler below. She pressed my face into her harder and harder, and I drowned in her, in her heat, her scent. She came fast—convulsing, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. I felt her cunt pulse against my tongue.

"Stand up," she ordered once her breathing steadied. "I want you inside me."

She lay back on the bench, spreading her legs. I hovered over her, feeling the heat radiating off her skin. The head of my cock touched her entrance—wet, ready. She bit her lip, staring straight into my eyes.

"Slow," she whispered. "Make it last."

I pushed in millimeter by millimeter. She was tight—three months without me had taken their toll. Her nails dug into my back as I filled her to the hilt. We froze. Just our hearts pounding, steam condensing on our skin.

"Fuck," she breathed. "I missed you so much."

I started to move. Slow, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in. She arched into me, finding the rhythm. Through the steam, I watched our bodies join and separate, slick with sweat and heat.

"Faster," she begged. "Please."

I picked up the pace. The slap of skin against skin filled the sauna. She moaned, biting her finger, and I watched her tits bounce with every thrust. I leaned down and took her nipple in my mouth, sucking, grazing it with my teeth.

"Yes!" she cried out, then slapped her hand over her mouth. "Quiet... quiet..."

I flipped her over. She got on her hands and knees, bracing against the bench, and I drove into her from behind. Deeper. I could hear how wet she was, the slick sound of her cunt taking me. She threw her head back, and I watched the shiver run down her spine.

"Just like that," she pushed back against me, "just like that, baby..."

I grabbed her hips, slamming into her hard and deep. She moaned into her palm, and I felt her ass quiver with every thrust. She came a second time—silently, her whole body shaking, her inner muscles clenching around me so tight I growled.

"Marina... I'm gonna..."

"Come inside me," she whispered, not turning around. "Do it."

I pounded into her, feeling the hot wave building. One final thrust—and I exploded inside her, shooting hot streams deep into her cunt. She shuddered, taking all of me, squeezing her thighs together.

We froze. I pulled out slowly, and she collapsed onto the bench, lying on her stomach. The smell of sex mixed with the steam. I lay down beside her, and she turned, resting her head on my chest. Her hair—wet, tangled—tickled my skin.

"Shhh," I stroked her back. "You hear that?"

A door slammed downstairs. Footsteps.

"It's fine," she whispered. "We're quick."

We lay there, listening to someone walk past the door. Her breathing slowly steadied. The steam wrapped around us, hiding us from the world.

"And the divorce..." I started.

"Later," she said, kissing my chest. "First—let's just lie here."