Hey y’all! Thanks so much for all the love from the last story; I really appreciate the feedback, and glad you are enjoying the writing! Here’s another one for ya – part 1. The sexy stuff is mostly in part 2, but I think this’ll get your imagination going just fine…
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I met Anya at the women’s only spa in town, in the dry sauna. I noticed her immediately; I always came on the same days, the same times, and had not seen her before. I would learn later that she usually arrived after I’d gone home. This day had been a fluke. I saw her first when she had passed me a few times in the hall between the sauna and the soaking tubs, a flash of dark, curly hair and breasts that draped down her body elegantly. Her brown nipples stared at me as we passed, our bare shoulders nearly grazing each other. The soft hair on her arms bristled against mine. I shivered, despite the humidity. She was on her way to the dry sauna, and I was on my way to the cold tub. After I saw her swish into the dry sauna, I changed my mind, opting instead for a cold dunk from the bucket shower.
I pulled the rope and a frigid splash ached down my shoulder blades, trickling down my lower back to sputter out between my thighs. I pulled it again. My nipples hardened toward the water. I felt the warmth between my thighs escalate. I pulled the rope again. Then I turned back to the dry sauna.
Once I settled my towel down, white and plush on the wooden bench, I eased myself onto it, careful to keep my eyes to myself. The dry sauna was rather large, allowing for small pockets of people to group. There were three layers of benches that rose quite high to allow for different levels of heat, and most people opted for the lowest bench. On the first bench were four women, quietly chatting and giggling amongst themselves. Their closeness and comfortability in the nude made me wonder if they all knew each other before, or if they had met in this liminal space that provided ease and comfort so that one could chat intimately with a stranger.
On the highest bench were me and Anya, though I didn’t know her yet. I sat on the edge of the bench, breathing deeply with my eyes closed as I adjusted to the heat. In, out. I must remind myself when I’m in hot rooms to breathe in, breathe out. Eventually, the discomfort subsides into total surrender. My shoulders begin to relax and slope over my torso, my neck shakes out, hairs sticking to nape of it, sweat dripping to my collar bones. I like to sit in this position, hung over, wet, and warm, until my breath regulates itself. I was in the middle of getting into this state of total surrender when a voice interrupted my breath work.
“It’s hot, eh?” I looked up to see Anya, bright dark eyes obscured behind a curtain of curls. I nodded.
“It’s a secret club, up here,” she continued, a faint accent wiggling through her words, “most Americans pick the first row.”
“It makes sense,” I found myself saying, “America doesn’t have a culture of sauna.” Dumb. Idiot, I thought to myself. Duh. She laughed shortly, warmly.
“You like sauna. You like it hot.”. Who is this woman, I thought to myself.
“I guess so.”
“It’s hurts a little, no?”
“Yeah, but it’s nice.” At this she raised an eyebrow and laughed again.
“My name is Anya.”
“Anya,” I said back, pressing the shape of her name into the roof of my mouth.
“Yes, Anya… and your name is?”
“Bella.”
“Belllllllla,” she said, stretching the el sound. “It’s pretty.”
“Thank you.”
“Bella, it’s nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out for me to shake. I took her hand in mine, felt the sweat in our palms, the soft pad of her thumb, the graze of her nail. Before releasing she softly tapped the outside of my hand with her finger and slid it, ever so gently across my skin, so sweetly that I couldn’t be sure if she meant to do it at all. She wrapped herself in a towel and walked down the stairs, her toned calves rippling under her towel.
After she left, I returned to my breathing. In, An. Out, ya.
I had bought myself the spa membership as a gift to myself, after receiving a promotion at work that incurred more stress and also more money. It had become my ritual, to leave the office on Mondays and Wednesdays at 5PM to spend a couple hours in the spa, rotating between the dry and steam sauna, the hot and cold tubs, and, on occasion, getting a vigorous body scrub to exfoliate my skin. I enjoyed the exfoliation for the same reason I liked the intense heat: an almost painful way to relax into complete serenity. After, my skin felt new and raw, clean.
After I met Anya, I found myself subconsciously coming later in the evening. Instead of wrapping up in the office at 5PM, I found myself finding something else to do to occupy my time. By 7PM, I was antsy for the heat. I found her again in the dry sauna. She didn’t acknowledge our previous conversation, but gave me a slow smile from across the room. The next time I went, she sat with me again. It went like this for a couple of weeks – we didn’t exchange numbers, we didn’t spend time in other parts of the spa. We’d just sit together in the sauna, keeping a patient distance between us. We had spoken, minimally, about our lives. I knew she was from Russia; I knew she worked in real estate; I knew she had an ex-husband.
“What happened,” I had asked.
“What always happens with men,” she said, unaccusing. “They’re tiring. Possessive.”
“My ex was possessive, too.” He was, but we hadn’t been together in years. I hadn’t dated at all in years, but I didn’t tell her this, yet.
One Monday, she wasn’t in the dry sauna. I felt my disappointment, and found myself almost turning around to leave. I sat for a while, waiting for her, but she didn’t show. I sat for longer than I should have, and was dizzy by the time I stood up. I managed to stumble out of the sauna and into the cold dunk tub, floating my hair on the surface of the water and letting the chill permeate through my skin. When I got back to the locker room to change, there she was. Right as I threw my towel into the bin, with my clothes balled up in my hand, she appeared before me. Naked as I was.
“Oh! Hi!”
“I’m sorry, “I had some things to take care of.”
“Oh, it’s ok…it’s not a problem–”
“Listen, I want you to come see my new property. I bought a cabin, not far from town, on the river. I have a banya. It’s just me and a few girlfriends, you’d really like them.”
“What?”
“Bella, trust me. It’s beautiful. Just come for the weekend, we’re going up Friday.”
“I’ll, um, I’ll think about it.”
“Great,” she said, smiling. She rummaged around her locker and pressed a business card into my hand. “Call me.” Then she was gone again, through the saloon doors separating the locker room from the sauna and the tubs.
All week, I had thought about it. On Wednesday, I called her. She sent me the address, basic instructions, and said to come anytime. I left immediately after work on Friday, half convincing myself out of it the entire time. I don’t know this woman, I said to myself, what kind of person invites strangers to their cabin, I’m definitely going to get murdered. Then again, I considered, it’s hard for me to make friends, maybe this is just how people do it these days. When’s the last time you had even a short vacation? By 7PM I was pulling into the driveway of the cabin, which was more a small ski chalet, incredibly tasteful and chic, which, despite never having seen Anya dressed, made sense.
I rang the doorbell and held my breath. The door flung open.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lypull/ffff_exploring_my_deepest_desires_in_the_steamy