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By *ordlad OP Man
4 weeks ago
Wrexham |
I adjusted the towel around my hips for the third time as Anita and I stepped through the heavy wooden door into the sauna complex. The air hit me immediately—hot, damp, heavy with the scent of cedar, sweat, and sex. My cock, already half-hard from the anticipation, twitched against the soft terry cloth.
“Sophie,” Anita whispered, her voice low and amused, “you’re already showing.”
I glanced down. The towel was tenting. Of course it was. Anita looked perfect beside me—taller, darker hair still damp from the shower, her own towel riding low enough that the soft curve of her hips and the neat line of her cock were impossible to miss if anyone looked closely. We’d both tucked carefully in the changing room, but the heat was already undoing that discipline.
The main corridor branched left toward the dry saunas and right toward the steam rooms and dark maze. Men moved past us in towels or nothing at all, eyes lingering. A few did double-takes. One older guy with a thick chest openly stared at the shape under my towel, then at Anita’s, and gave a slow, appreciative nod.
Anita’s fingers brushed the small of my back. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
We went left first, into the hottest dry sauna. The benches were already occupied by four men, all naked, glistening. Conversation stopped when we walked in. I felt every pair of eyes track the sway of our hips, the way our towels clung. Anita claimed a spot on the upper bench; I sat beside her, knees slightly apart, towel still knotted but doing very little to hide how hard I was getting.
One of the men—mid-thirties, dark hair, heavy cock already filling out—spoke first. “You two lost?”
Anita’s smile was pure trouble. “Not lost. Just visiting.”
He looked at the clear outline of my cock under the towel, then at Anita’s. “Both of you packing?”
“Both of us,” I said, voice a little rougher than I intended.
The man on the end—taller, leaner—shifted so his knee brushed mine. “Mind if we see?”
Anita answered for both of us by simply untying her towel and letting it fall open. Her cock, smooth and already stiff, rested against her thigh. I followed a second later. The cool air on my skin lasted only a moment before the heat of their stares replaced it. My cock curved up, flushed, the head already shiny.
“Fuck,” the dark-haired one murmured. “Pretty.”
He reached out without asking further. His hand wrapped around me, firm and confident, stroking once from base to tip. I bit back a sound. Beside me Anita was already being touched by the leaner man—long fingers sliding under her balls, then up the shaft in a slow, testing pull.
More men drifted in. The door kept opening. Within ten minutes the sauna was crowded, the air thick with the smell of us. Hands were everywhere. Someone knelt between my knees and took me into his mouth without a word—hot, wet, skilled. I leaned back against the hot wood, thighs open, watching Anita get the same treatment two seats down. A thick cock was already sliding between her lips while another man stood behind her, rubbing his length along the cleft of her ass.
I lost track of how many mouths and hands used me. One guy turned me sideways on the bench, pushed my knees up, and licked a long stripe from my hole up over my balls and along the underside of my cock. Another simply straddled my chest and fed his cock between my lips, fucking my mouth in short, shallow thrusts while the first one kept licking. I moaned around the shaft, the vibration making him curse softly.
Anita caught my eye through the steam and bodies. Her lips were shiny, her own cock being stroked by two different hands at once. She mouthed more at me and then opened wider for the next man who stepped up.
We moved eventually—out of the dry heat and into the steam room, then deeper into the dark maze where the lighting was almost nonexistent and the rules were even looser. Anita took my hand and pulled me into one of the smaller alcoves. She pushed me against the tiled wall, kissed me hard, and then turned so her back was to my chest.
“Fuck me while they watch,” she whispered.
I didn’t need telling twice. I slicked myself with spit and the lube packet she’d tucked into her towel earlier, lined up, and pushed into her in one slow, deep slide. She was tight, hot, perfect. The second I bottomed out a circle of men had already formed. Hands stroked our cocks, our chests, our faces. Someone knelt and sucked Anita while I fucked her. Another pressed against my back and rubbed his cock between my cheeks, not entering, just using the friction while he muttered how hot we looked.
I came first, buried deep inside her, biting her shoulder to stay quiet. She followed a minute later, spilling over the hand that was stroking her, her body clenching around me in waves. We didn’t stop. I stayed hard enough to keep moving; men took turns using our mouths, our hands, the space between our thighs. One particularly insistent guy bent me over the low bench, pushed into me while Anita sat in front of me and fed me her cock so I was filled at both ends. The dual sensation short-circuited every thought. I came again untouched, dripping onto the tiles while the man behind me filled me with a low groan.
We stayed for hours.
By the time we finally made it back to the showers we were both marked—hickeys on necks and thighs, come drying on our skin, legs shaky. Anita leaned under the spray with me, soaping my cock with slow, possessive strokes, then turning so I could do the same for her.
“Same time next week?” she asked, voice rough from use.
I kissed her under the water, tasting salt and sex and her. “Definitely.”
We left the towels in the bin, dressed in the changing room under a few lingering stares, and stepped back out into the cooler night air still feeling every place we’d been touched, filled, and claimed. |
