Sauna Relationship

Elza and Betty book the same spa every Thursday. Same heat. Same tiled room, the wood benches that sting when your skin's bare. One afternoon the steam peeled away every layer they walked in with. They sat side by side, legs brushing, then thighs. A hand landed on a knee and stayed. Another afternoon they didn't bother with talk. Betty's mouth closed over Elza's nipple, warm and unhurried, while steam curled across her shoulders. Elza answered with two fingers sliding between Betty's lips, inside, finding the give and heat. The benches were still warm from the stones beneath them. Elza dropped to the lower seat, shoulders spreading Betty open. Tongue met salt and sweat, long slow licks, then quick taps at the clit. Betty grabbed Elza's wet hair, held her there, hips rolling like the pulse inside her. Later she pulled Elza up, swung one leg across, seated herself across that thigh, slid against it. Slow grind, clitoris dragging each time she moved, leaving a slick streak. Their mouths found each other, teeth and tongue, soft panting catching under the cedar roof. They left damp prints on the bench and didn't bother wiping them away.