By: mcamden & Ryan Michaels
I was tired. My legs were a little shaky going down the stairs, my hair plastered down and my shirt hanging heavy and cold against my body. I felt good, though, because the workout had been just what I needed to work some of the kinks out of my arms and shoulders. My muscles were now tired, but not as achy as they had been when I'd finally finished putting the new starter in our aging car.
It seemed odd to walk through the gym when it was dark outside, the skylights black and foreboding. I usually worked out in the morning, but I'd been up early to see my wife off for the weekend and then gone right to fixing the car. I was glad that I'd come, though, even though I'd debated just turning on the TV and fixing some dinner. Now I was looking forward to a long soak in the steam room, the real reason that I'd decided to go ahead and work out on this cold winter night.
The locker room was deserted as I stripped out of my clothes. It was such a departure from the bustling morning crowd.
The steam rolled out and the heat rushed at me as I opened the door to the steam room. I stepped inside the small room and spread my folded-over towel on the top bench. The odor of the steam and the hot, damp wood was soothing. I sat on the towel and leaned back, briefly hissing at the heat of the wall on my shoulders, but slowly relaxing and accommodating. I slouched some and closed my eyes.
The heat was intense and sweat quickly began to glisten on my naked body. I could feel individual droplets forming and running down, meeting other droplets and continuing. The gentle hissing of the steam lulled me and I recalled the moments before Liz had left this morning...
"Honey," she'd called down to the garage, "could you come up for just a moment?"
I grumbled a little under my breath. I was right in the middle of rearranging the trunk contents so that the lid would close.
I mounted the steps, eager to see her off so I could get to work on the repairs. Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, I stopped cold. Liz was sitting at the top of the stairs. Her long skirt was hiked up and her legs were parted, revealing her beautifully shaven pussy. There were a few drops of glistening dew surrounding her delicate pink lips. Her face wore a playful grin.
"I'm having a little problem, could you help me?" she asked.
"I think I can be of some assistance," I quickly replied, my mouth dry and my pants suddenly growing restrictive.
"I thought you might," she said. "It's this problem with honey..."
"Honey?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Yes, I can't seem to get it off." With that, she produced a small plastic honey bear in her right hand. I watched transfixed as the spout of the bear slowly yielded a narrow, heavy stream of golden liquid that fell precisely upon Liz's swollen clit and slowly oozed southward, commingling with her own nectar.
"Do you really think you can help?" she asked breathily.
Without a pause I nearly lunged at her, forcing her into a recumbent position as I began to taste the heady concoction of her sex. The sweetness of the honey combined with the earthy taste and aroma of her cunt aroused me fully as I slowly lapped at her, starting just below her pussy and drawing my tongue up and over that moist, beckoning region, to her now engorged pleasure center.
My tongue swirled over her clit, gently yet firmly finding every morsel of honey and devouring it. Her legs moved up to my shoulders, and as she spread them wider to allow me full freedom, her ankles locked behind my neck, pulling my eager face into her. I took her clit between my lips and suckled it, pressing my lips firmly down around the shaft as my tongue danced around the tip.
Her legs pulled my head even closer to her as I slipped first one, then two fingers into her now wet cunt, probing along the pubic bone in search of yet another sensitive spot. My mouth continued to suckle and swirl and one probing finger found its mark as suddenly her legs locked my head securely in place and her body began to gently and rhythmically spasm with the pleasure of her orgasm. I gently slid my fingers from her and released her now-sensitized clit from within my lips.
Her legs released my head and she gently pushed me back up to a standing position on the stairs. Moving quickly, she moved down three steps so that she was now straddling my feet. Her hands deftly unfastened my pants and pulled them down, my cock springing free, the tip damp from pre-cum. She reached up and grasped me mid-shaft, and pointed me directly at her mouth. Her lips parted and her wondrous tongue darted out and lapped at the small opening, sampling the clear fluid slowly oozing out.
"Mmm, you taste as good as ever," she said. "Cum for me, quickly." Her right hand moved methodically along the shaft, her left hand cupping my balls, hefting them, squeezing them gently.
She took the tip of my dick into her mouth, her lips stretched around the shaft just behind the head as her tongue migrated directly to the most sensitive area on the underside. Very quickly I could feel my balls beginning to heave, and the spasm pushed through me. My cock jerked once forcefully as the cum erupted from it, all the while her skilled tongue milking me for more.
She released my now softening cock from her mouth, backed up a step, and stood and said quietly in my ear, "I'll expect a good hard fuck when I get back, so rest up."
Opening my eyes quickly, I realized that I had drifted off in the hot swirling mists of the steam room. Looking over, I saw that I now had company, a man of about my age, perhaps a few years younger. He looked to be in good shape with a well-toned body enveloped in a sheen of moisture. He was sitting on the same level as me and was quarter turned and facing me.
With a start, I realized that he was lazily running his fingertips over his semi-erect penis. I looked up at his face and he smiled.
