Sauna

Lena couldn’t sleep anymore. She stood under the shower and washed herself thoroughly, but the pain wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t fresh pain anymore—the redness on her butt had already faded—but a dull, persistent phantom pain that seemed to have settled deep into her skin and muscles. Every movement reminded her of what had happened in that basement room.

She needed heat. Something to relax her body and distract her mind.

The university gym had its own sauna. Nude. Coed. She’d wear a towel. If she got there early enough, maybe it would be empty. She started getting dressed and realized after just the third attempt that nothing felt right. Every top felt wrong, every pair of panties too tight. It wasn’t until she simply left out her bra and panties and put on only loose workout pants and a baggy shirt that her inner resistance subsided. She shrugged. In an hour, she’d be naked anyway.

At 6:30, she was the first one at the building. The staff member unlocked the door and gave her a brief once-over. “The sauna’s still off,” he said. “It has to heat up first. That’ll take a good hour.”

Lena nodded, put her things in a locker, and headed to the workout area. She moved mechanically through the exercises on the machines, without really being present. The phantom pain throbbed in time with her movements.

Around 6:45, she entered the sauna area. She had intentionally—or rather, driven by the impulse she had come to recognize—taken a very small towel. It covered little more than the bare essentials. The sauna wasn’t really hot yet, just pleasantly warm and quiet. The scent of wood enveloped her. She spread the skimpy towel out on the lower bench and lay down, her legs slightly bent, her eyes closed. The warmth slowly began to seep into the sore spots.

A few kilometers away, Jennifer opened the message while half-asleep. She’d gone to bed late. The short beep had woken her up anyway. With heavy eyelids, she tapped on the preview. Two image attachments.

The first showed Lena’s bare ass and the top of her spread labia. The second showed her face and breasts—her eyes glassy and exhausted. Beneath it, just one line:

Can you see this?

Jennifer stared at the photos. Naked. Beautiful. Vulnerable and, at the same time, uninhibitedly exposed. What was this? The photos were highly erotic. She felt the heat immediately creep between her legs. A hand slid under the blanket, found her already damp slit, and began to stroke it slowly. The images remained open as her fingers circled.

She was too tired, though. The arousal built up but remained below the threshold. Eventually, the movements slowed, her eyes closed again, and she drifted back to sleep—the photos of Lena still blurry in her mind’s eye.

While Lena and Jennifer were still caught up in their shared dream, Lena’s body lay in the sauna.

She couldn’t wake up. The dream held her fast. Nevertheless, the effects were clearly visible: her legs were spread apart, clear moisture was running from between her thighs over the small towel and dripping onto the wood. Her nipples were hard and dark. Every now and then, a soft, drawn-out moan escaped her.

The young employee on the early shift—in his early twenties, slender, still a bit unsure in his new job—had actually only intended to do the usual check. Check the sauna temperature, restock the towels, and quickly see if everything was in order. When he opened the glass door to the sauna, he stood rooted to the spot.

Lena was lying on the lower wooden bench.

The tiny towel she’d brought with her had already slipped to the side and barely covered anything. Her legs were spread wide, her knees tilted slightly outward. A wet sheen glistened between her thighs. Clear, viscous moisture trickled in a thin stream from her parted slit, dripping onto the dark wood and already forming a small, shimmering spot there. Her labia were swollen and dark pink, the inner opening slightly parted, as if someone had just used her. Her breasts rose and fell with calm breaths; her nipples stood hard and close together in the warm air. Every now and then, a long, throaty moan escaped her slightly parted mouth—half pain, half pleasure, coming deep from the dream that held her captive.

He swallowed hard.

Meanwhile, the sauna was heating up quite a bit. The thermometer reading had already climbed above the recommended range. You shouldn’t sleep in here. Especially not like this. He stepped closer, his heart pounding up into his throat. “Hey…,” he called softly. No reaction. He reached out and placed his hand on her bare shoulder. Her skin was hot and slightly sweaty. He shook her. Lena just moaned again, this time a little louder, and her hips twitched upward involuntarily, causing her wet slit to open even wider. He shook her harder. As he did, the towel finally slipped to the floor. She now lay completely naked before him, unconscious or in a sleep so deep that nothing could reach her. Her legs remained spread. Fresh moisture glistened between her labia.

For a moment, he wrestled with himself.

Should he call a doctor? Emergency services? He leaned over her, sniffed her mouth—no alcohol. No signs of an overdose, no foam, no unnatural twitching. She’d already looked that way when she’d arrived at half past six: tired, distant, somehow worn out. Exam stress, he thought. They all went through that phase before exams. Some even fell asleep on the loungers in the relaxation room.

It would be enough to take her there. Out of the steamy sauna, onto a regular lounge chair, door closed, a note on the door, done. If she still wasn’t responsive after an hour, he could always call someone.

He wasn’t a hero.

That became clear to him even as he was lifting her up. A real hero would have draped the towel over her, looked away, and done only what was absolutely necessary. He did the opposite. As soon as her naked body lay against his chest and he felt the warmth and moisture between her legs, he let his hands wander. At first under the pretense of getting a better grip on her. Then more openly. Fingers sliding into the damp cleft, a hand cupping a breast and rolling the hard nipple between his fingers. She didn’t react. Just that deep, dreamy moan.

He slid his arms under the backs of her knees and her back and lifted her up. She was heavier than she looked, warm and completely limp. As he carried her out of the sauna, one of her breasts brushed against his forearm, the hard nipple scraping against his skin. He felt the wetness between her legs against his shirt. On the short walk to the relaxation room, he grew bolder. One hand slid down from her back and gripped a buttock firmly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. When she didn’t react, he slid his hand further between her thighs and let two fingers glide through the dripping-wet slit. The heat and slipperiness of her arousal immediately enveloped his fingers. He let out a soft moan and pressed his fingers deeper as he continued walking.

In the relaxation room, he laid her down on the padded lounger. For a moment, he just stood there and looked. Her spread thighs, her glistening, slightly pulsating pussy, her hard nipples, her relaxed, almost peaceful face, while moisture continued to seep from her. Then he pulled out his cell phone.

He took photos systematically. First, her entire body from above. Then close-ups of her breasts, her nipples pinched between his thumb and index finger to make them look even more prominent. He ran his fingers through her hair and turned her head to the side for a better shot of her face. After that, he turned his attention to her lower body. He placed her feet on the table, her knees wide apart, and pulled her outer labia apart with two fingers until the inner, rosy mucous membrane and the dripping opening were completely exposed. Several photos from different angles. He leaned down and licked broadly across the entire slit, from the bottom up to the clitoris, deeply savoring the sweet, tangy, warm taste. A second time, this time probing the opening with the tip of his tongue. Lena moaned in her sleep, and her inner muscles twitched around his tongue.

He kissed her limp mouth, slid his tongue between her lips, and sucked on her lower lip. Then he took first her left, then her right nipple firmly into his mouth and sucked hard until they grew even harder and turned dark red. He bit down lightly with his teeth and watched as her body moved involuntarily under the stimulation.

Trembling, he pulled out his cock. It was already rock-hard, and pre-cum was dripping from the tip. He wouldn’t fuck her—the risk that she’d wake up or that someone would come in was too great. But he needed more. He ran the wet tip over her mouth, coating her lips with a glossy film, and pressed lightly against her teeth until the tip of his cock disappeared between her lips. Then he guided his cock to her breasts, rubbing the tip in circles over her hard nipples, leaving shiny trails behind. Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer and lowered his cock between her legs, slowly sliding its full length up and down through her spread, wet labia, the glans repeatedly bumping against her clitoris and the entrance without penetrating her. Only once, briefly, was he fully inside her. The heat and wetness were almost too much.

He couldn’t hold out for long. With his free hand, he jerked off hard and took aim. The first thick spurt landed across her lower abdomen and up to the base of her breasts. The second hit her right nipple and slowly ran down the curve of her breast. The third and fourth splattered across her stomach and the upper part of her pubic area. He groaned and jerked the last few drops directly onto her parted labia.

Breathless, he spread the semen over her skin with his flat hands—over her breasts, her stomach, and into her wet slit. Then he took another series of photos: her face with her glistening mouth, her breasts with the white streaks, her lower body with the fresh semen mixing with her own wetness.

He pushed the lounge chair up to the large glass window facing the hallway and turned it so that the spotlight fell directly on her body. He covers her face slightly with a towel so that she can't recognize direct. Anyone walking down the hallway would see her clearly: naked, legs raised and spread apart, labia glistening, semen on her stomach and breasts, the towel deliberately draped as if it had slipped down on its own. He took a step back, checked the angle, adjusted the position of her legs and arms once more, and was satisfied.

Then he went out, locked the door from the outside, and stuck the handwritten note on it: **Please do not disturb.**

From the inside, you could get past the emergency mechanism; from the outside, no one could get in to her. He wasn’t a complete asshole. Just horny and opportunistic.

He went back to his work, the cell phone with the photos heavy in his pocket, his heart still racing. In less than thirty minutes, the first teams would show up for early practice. Soccer players, gymnasts—the whole early-morning sports crowd. They’d see the note, the window, and behind it, the naked, spread-eagled, cum-covered college student under the bright spotlight.

Lena lay motionless, trapped in her dream with Jennifer, while her real body was put on display.