Quickie with a Stranger in A Sauna

I wasn’t looking for anything. Just a quick trip to the city for some chill time. Me and a couple of the guys rented an expensive apartment to play poker and drink the night away. At least that was the plan until I ran into her.

Her name should have been trouble, because that's how she looked, walked & talked. And she looked like trouble too: toned legs, red bikini that barely held a damn thing in place, and lips that looked like they had stories to tell.

She caught me looking. By her smile, I could tell that she wanted me to look. Gave me a slow, deliberate up-and-down, like she was inspecting inventory, lingering when her eyes hit the bulge straining against my swim trunks.

She didn't hide it, either. Her gaze got stuck there. A little pause, a flicker of heat flashing across her face, I could tell that she was still sizing me up and loving every inch of what she saw.

When her eyes finally dragged their way back up to meet mine, she didn’t smile. She just locked onto me, holding the stare like a dare. A silent challenge. One I already knew I was going to take.

That’s when she said it.

“Meet me in the sauna. Five minutes. Don’t be late.”

And then she was gone, hips swaying through the pool like she owned it, like she knew I’d follow.

And I did.

The door to the sauna creaked as I slipped in, heat wrapping around me like a thick, wet blanket. Dim light, cedar walls, and that dense silence that makes every movement feel louder than it is.

She was already there.

Towel loosely wrapped around her, one leg crossed over the other, steam curling off her skin like it couldn’t wait to touch her. Her eyes met mine, slow and unblinking. A predator just waiting for her prey to come closer.

I sat down across from her, heart thudding like a drumline in my chest. I could still feel her hand on me from the pool, still semi-hard, already growing again just looking at her.

She leaned back against the wall, parted her towel slightly, not much, but just enough for me to catch the edge of a thigh, a whisper of skin, an invitation.

“You made it,” she said, voice low and thick with desire.

“You knew I would.”

She stood slowly, towel falling in a controlled drop. Naked. Completely. Beautiful in a way that made you forget how to blink.

She stepped over to me, straddled my lap, and without another word, kissed me. Hard. Wet. Starved.

Her tongue slid past my lips, and her fingers were already pulling at the waistband of my swim trunks, freeing me. She wrapped her hand around my hard cock, teasingly, then started slowly stroking it. I groaned into her mouth, grabbed her ass with both hands, and pulled her flush against me.

She didn’t hesitate. She guided me inside her like she’d done it a hundred times in her mind already. Hot, slick, and tight, she gasped into my mouth and started to ride.

Slow at first. Like she wanted to feel every inch. Then harder. Faster. Her breasts bounced with every grind of her hips. My hands moved to her waist, helping her set the rhythm. My mouth found her neck, her collarbone, tasting salt and heat and skin.

I was close. She was already there, moaning louder now, uncaring if someone walked in, maybe hoping they would. Her body tensed, clenched around me, and that sent me over the edge.

I came hard, buried deep, gripping her tight as we both rode it out together, sweat and sex and steam wrapping around us like a cocoon.

She collapsed against me, breathing heavy, lips brushing my ear. “Well, nice to meet you too”