The atmosphere subtly changes like the slowly mounting pressure foretelling a storm. This is our first day alone together in sometime. A drop of moisture lands on my head and suddenly I'm even more acutely aware of your skin next to me. Through the mist of the steam room I can make out one or two other couples. The room is as empty as it has been, empty enough.
My arm, which has been lazily draped over your shoulder, starts to move down your arm. The pads of my fingers brush lightly over your skin and then I turn my fingers further so that the barest hint of nail is tracking a line down your upper arm. I force myself to move slowly to the point of almost stillness and my breath catches with each shift of my fingers. I gradually increase the pressure of my nails and I can feel you respond becoming somehow simultaneously tense and liquid.
My hand drops from your arm and comes to rest on your thigh, high but not obscenely so. I leave my palm in place, conforming to the spread of goosebumps which have appeared on your flesh. You lean further into me, your warm flesh melting slightly into mine. I take the opportunity to lean my neck and brush your forehead with my lips. You shiver.
My fingers are restless, tense and still, but there is maybe a whisper of movement. Maybe it's just my urge to move that you respond to but I feel your thigh twitch. The tension continues to mount. My little finger, the furthest up the thigh, refuses to be restrained any longer and begins to foray higher. It looks innocent enough, my palm is still. But the pad of my little finger has found where the fabric of your bikini touches the skin of your inner thigh. I find the seam between flesh and fabric, tracing the line around the soft mounded flesh.
At this point a couple leaves and we're momentarily alone. My free hand finds your chin and I draw your lips to my descending mouth. I kiss you deeply and a long moan escapes your lips. "Come on." I whisper and take you by the hand, leaving the steam room.
With barely suppressed urgency we make our way to the changing area. I slam the door shut as we squeeze into a cubicle and then I'm on you, kissing you, pressing every inch of my exposed flesh into yours as your back hits the opposite wall. My hand dives across your stomach and under the waistband of your bottoms. My finger curls and with a gasp from both of us it is enveloped by your wetness.
I move quickly to my knees, desperate to taste you. I pull your underwear down and reach up to stuff them in your mouth, stifling your moans. I am barely thinking, driven by an animal urge to drink from you as I bury my head between your legs.
My tongue folds into you, slipping between your full lips. Then my tongue curls upward, parting you as the tip searches for your clit. My lips follow, sucking gently as your sweetness flows into me. Soon both of us are trembling, our breathing ragged, I from excitement and you from your rushing climax. With an effort I pull myself away, shaking slightly. After so long, I am not ready for the tension to be released. I slowly remove your bikini bottoms from your mouth, lazily trailing my finger down your lips. "We have a dinner reservation". I hand you your clothes, first taking the opportunity to set your knickers aside.