The Woman Who Came into the Sauna Found Me Like This

The women’s bathhouse in the old quarter opened on Sundays at seven, and I always got there first. At that hour the sauna was empty, the concierge was still yawning behind the counter, and no one came up until after nine. I knew that because I’d been coming for months with a single purpose I would never confess to anyone.

The air inside was thick, almost solid. The cedar walls gave off a warm scent of resin, and under my bare feet the wood burned just enough to remind me I was alive. I sat on the highest bench, where the heat gathers, and let the steam cover me like a second skin.

Sweat started beading at once. I felt it form at the nape of my neck and slide slowly down my spine, collect in the hollow of my waist, and keep going. Every drop left a warm trail, and I followed it with the tip of a finger, unhurried, while my breathing grew slower and heavier.

I wasn’t completely naked. I was wearing a black lace set I’d bought for that morning, fine, tight, with a floral pattern that looked innocent and was anything but. The fabric clung to my soaked body, biting at my hip, pressing exactly where I needed it most.

Nobody comes up until nine, I told myself. I have two hours to myself.

I ran my hand up my belly, following the shine of sweat, to my breasts. I pinched a nipple between two fingers and a lash of pleasure shot from top to bottom, straight to the center of my legs. The idea of being in a public place, of the door opening at any moment, had always turned me on more than anything else. That morning, on top of that, I had decided to take it one step further.

In my bag, by the door, I’d brought a small plug and a vibrator. Before going up I’d put in the first one calmly, with cold lube that contrasted with my burning skin, and now I could feel it firmly inside me, a constant presence that pulsed ever so slightly with each movement of my hips. Every time I shifted on the bench, the base pressed exactly where it should, and I had to bite my lip not to moan out loud.

I let my hand go lower. The lace was soaked through, and not just with sweat. I slipped two fingers over the fabric, feeling the contrast between the delicacy of the embroidery and the urgency of what was beneath, and let the air out through my mouth, trembling.

I pushed the lace aside. The moisture welcomed me warm and abundant, and a finger slid in without any effort. I closed my eyes. The steam, the scent of cedar, the hot wood against my back, the plug pulsing, everything conspired to take me to the edge too fast.

—Slowly —I said under my breath, as if someone else were giving me orders—. Slowly.

I moved my fingers patiently, tracing slow circles around my clit, letting the tension build without releasing it. My hips moved on their own, seeking more, and every time I pushed against my own hand the plug answered, multiplying the sensation until it was hard to think. The sauna’s heat and the fire I carried inside me blended into one single thing.

I was so lost I almost didn’t hear the squeak of the hinges.

***

The door opened and a gust of cool air caressed my burning skin. My breath caught. For an instant my heart stopped completely, and then it started beating again with savage force, pounding against my ribs.

In the doorway stood a woman.

She was tall, much taller than me, wrapped in a white towel that contrasted with her golden skin. Her light brown hair was tied up in a bun, with a few damp strands escaping, stuck to her neck and shoulders. She had a calm, almost insolent bearing, the kind of presence that belonged to someone used to being looked at.

I didn’t have time to cover myself. Her eyes swept over the whole scene in a second: my parted legs, the lace pushed aside, my hand still between my thighs, my body shining with sweat and trembling from something impossible to hide. I saw her understand exactly what she had interrupted.

I expected embarrassment, an apology, the slam of the door. None of that came. In her green eyes, the surprise lasted only a heartbeat and then turned into something else, a dark spark I recognized because it was identical to the one burning in me.

—I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here this early —she said. Her voice was deep, calm, and every word seemed to carry a second meaning.

I didn’t pull my hand away. Maybe it was the heat, maybe the certainty that she didn’t want me to pull it away either, but I kept moving my fingers slowly, holding her gaze.

—I wasn’t expecting company either —I replied, and my voice came out rough, unrecognizable.

She took a step inside. The door shut behind her on its own, and the steam closed around us again like a curtain. The tension between us could have been cut with a knife.

—Looks like I interrupted something —she said, with a half-smile that didn’t hide anything.

—You can stay —I answered—. If you want.

That was all she needed. She took her hands to the knot of her towel and let it fall to the wooden floor. Underneath, there was nothing. Her body appeared to me in full, firm and long, high breasts, wide hips, skin gleaming with sweat under the dim light of the single lamp. I was left breathless.

***

She walked toward me unhurriedly, enjoying the way I looked at her, and stopped at the foot of the bench. I still had my fingers between my legs, unable to stop, and she dropped her gaze to them and licked her lips.

—Don’t stop on my account —she murmured—. I want to watch.

I obeyed. I rested my head against the hot wood and let her watch me as I touched myself, as the plug pulsed inside me and sweat ran between my breasts. Being watched, desired in my most exposed state, pushed me closer to the edge than I could have reached on my own.

—There’s something else in my bag —I said in a thread of a voice—. By the door. Bring it.

She arched an eyebrow and went. She bent down beside the bag with deliberate slowness, her hips swaying, and when her fingers found the vibrator she pulled it out and held it up, like a trophy.

—Is this what you’re looking for? —she asked, teasing, keeping it out of my reach.

—Yes —I gasped, pushing my hips forward without thinking—. Please.

She knelt between my legs. The low hum of the device filled the sauna when she switched it on, and that sound alone nearly made me burst. Her eyes didn’t leave mine for a single second.

—Open up for me —she said, and it wasn’t a question.

I spread my thighs as far as I could, offering myself fully, and I felt her bring the vibrator closer without touching me yet, letting it hover a millimeter from my skin, torturing me with the promise.

—You’re soaked —she murmured, delighted—. A treat.

—Do it —I begged—. I can’t wait any longer.

She lowered the vibrator until it brushed my clit and my whole body jerked as if a current had run through me. I screamed, I didn’t care. She smiled and started moving it in slow circles, tracing every fold, soaking it in my wetness before returning to the spot where I needed it most.

—Do you like it like this? —she asked, pressing a little harder.

—Yes, yes… harder —I gasped, clinging with both hands to the edge of the bench, my nails digging into the wood.

She didn’t hesitate. She increased the pressure, setting the vibrator exactly where it needed to be, and the plug answered inside me by heightening its intensity, the two sensations synchronizing until I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. The pleasure rose in a spiral, climbing from my belly to my chest, to my throat.

—You’re beautiful like this —she murmured, leaning in until her breath hit my ear—. Completely lost.

Her words lit me up even more. I felt my legs tremble, my whole body tense, the wave building unstoppable.

—Don’t stop —I begged—. Please, don’t stop.

She didn’t stop. The orgasm hit me like an explosion, arching me against the wood, and I heard myself scream as all the accumulated heat was released in one sudden rush. She kept the vibrator steady, prolonging it, until the aftershocks left me shaking and weak, collapsed on the bench.

***

It took me a while to come back. When I opened my eyes, she had sat down beside me and was watching me with satisfied calm, one hand resting on my still-trembling thigh.

—You’re insatiable —she said softly, almost tenderly.

—It’s not my fault —I replied, and managed to smile for the first time—. And you?

In answer, she took my wrist and guided my hand to her. I found her burning, open, just as wet as I had been. She moaned when my fingers brushed her, and that sound, low and surrendered, wiped away in one stroke the little strength I had left.

I sat up. I wanted to give back every second. I made her lie back on the white towel she’d dropped and slipped between her legs, following with my tongue the trail of sweat running down her belly. When I reached her center, she tangled her fingers in my hair and pushed my face against her with an urgency that made me burn again.

Her taste was salty and clean, intense, and I couldn’t stop drinking her in. I worked slowly at first, drawing with my tongue, listening to her breathing break apart into increasingly sharp gasps. Her hips began to move against my mouth, setting the rhythm, asking for more.

—Like that —she gasped—. Just like that, don’t stop.

I didn’t stop. I slid one hand up and fingered her with two fingers while I kept going with my mouth, and I felt her whole body tense beneath mine. The wood creaked under us, the steam covered us, and our moans mixed in the dense air until they became one.

When she came, she did it in silence, her back arched and her thighs closing around my head, trembling from head to toe. I stayed where I was, softening the rhythm, until she collapsed relaxed onto the towel, panting.

I climbed up to lie beside her. We were both shining with sweat, exhausted, wrapped in the sticky heat of the sauna and the smell of what we had just done. She turned her head and looked at me with a slow smile.

—What’s your name? —she asked.

—Dalia —I said—. And you?

She shook her head, still smiling.

—Better not —she murmured—. That way, next time, we’ll still be two strangers.

I felt the plug pulse again, soft, like a reminder that the fire never really goes out. I closed my eyes and let the steam cover us again, knowing I’d be back the following Sunday at the same time. And that I’d wait for the door to open.