Steam and Sparks

The heat hit me like a wall the second I pushed through the sauna door, a thick blanket of cedar and steam that clung to my skin. I’d come here to sweat out the night’s shift, to rinse the smell of gin and lime from my pores, but the sight of her stopped me cold.

She was stretched out on the top bench, one leg bent, the other dangling lazily over the edge. Sweat traced a path from her collarbone down between her breasts, and her skin gleamed like oiled bronze in the dim, amber light. Her name was Lena, and she’d been a regular at my bar for months, always tipping too much, always holding my gaze a beat too long.

“Didn’t peg you for a sauna guy, Max,” she said, her voice low, a little rough from the heat.

“Didn’t peg you for someone who’d be alone in here,” I shot back, dropping my towel on a hook. I was already hard, and the thin cotton did nothing to hide it.

She smirked, her eyes sliding down my body with a lazy, deliberate slowness. “Maybe I wasn’t planning on being alone for long.”

I didn’t need a second invitation. I climbed up to her bench, the wood hot against my knees, and her hand was on my chest before I could settle, fingers tracing the line of my pectoral, nails dragging through the sweat.

“Fuck, you’re warm,” she breathed, and I leaned in, my mouth finding hers. Her lips parted instantly, her tongue sliding against mine, tasting of salt and something sweet. My hand found her waist, then her hip, and she arched into me, a soft moan escaping her throat.

“I’ve thought about this,” she whispered against my mouth. “Every time you poured my whiskey. Every time you laughed at my shitty jokes.”

“I’ve thought about nothing else,” I said, and my hand slid up her thigh, pushing aside the thin edge of her bikini bottom. She was soaked, slick and hot, and when my fingers found her clit she gasped, her hips bucking against my palm.

“More,” she demanded, her voice breaking. “Don’t tease me, Max.”

I didn’t. I pulled the fabric aside and pushed two fingers inside her, feeling her clench around me, her inner walls gripping tight. She threw her head back, a long, shuddering groan tearing from her lips, and the sound of it, raw and hungry, made me throb.

“I need you inside me,” she said, her eyes wild, her hand wrapping around my cock, stroking me with a firm, knowing grip. “Now.”

I grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bench, her legs wrapping around my waist. The tip of my cock pressed against her entrance, slick with her wetness, and I held there for a heartbeat, watching her face, the way her lips parted, the way her chest heaved.

“Stop being a gentleman,” she growled.

I slammed into her. She cried out, a sharp, guttural sound that echoed off the cedar walls, and her nails dug into my shoulders. The heat was suffocating, our bodies slick and sliding together, and I set a brutal rhythm, pounding into her, each thrust driving her further up the bench.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” she chanted, her voice a frantic litany. Her legs tightened around me, drawing me deeper, and I could feel her getting close, her walls fluttering around my cock.

“Look at me,” I commanded, and her eyes met mine, glassy and desperate. “I want to watch you come.”

She came with a scream, her body convulsing, her inner muscles milking me relentlessly. The sight of her, the feel of her, pushed me over the edge, and I buried my face in her neck, groaning as I spilled inside her, hot and deep.

We stayed like that for a long time, tangled together on the slick bench, the only sound our ragged breathing and the hiss of the stones. Her hand found mine, her fingers lacing through my own, and she pressed a soft kiss to my jaw.

“Well,” she said, her voice hoarse and content. “That was worth the membership fee.”

I laughed, pulling her closer, feeling her heartbeat against my chest. The steam curled around us, and for a while, neither of us said a word, just listening to each other breathe in the quiet, sweltering dark.

CATEGORIES: [Sauna, Bartender, Just the Two of Us, Rough sex, Passionate Sex]