Steam

(with passages by Sapho)

The hours were dragging on. My hectic schedule at my university had strained my pocketbook, my qouta of sleep, and almost all of my personal relations. When I had graduated high school, I thought earning an english lit degree would be simple enough - a class there a seminar here. How far from the truth that turned out to be. I was pushing a heavy load of seventeen units that spring semester, and the stress was building. Not only that, but the sheer cost of books was beginning to take its toll on me. The only part time job I could fit into what was a terrible whirlwind of endless reading and writing was a nightshift at one of those gyms that are open at all hours of the night.

The job was simple, I just had to sit at the front desk and check identification cards as members came in and perhaps answer the phone once and a while. Every couple of hours I would have my co-worker, a guy only few years older than my twenty-two by the name of Glen, relieve me so that I could check the locker rooms' supply of towels and see if anyone had left a particularly nasty mess.

I think that was the hardest part of the job. The locker rooms at this gym are tiled in a pale, butter yellow color that tends to enhance every stain and smudge left by a careless member. This chain of gyms was so cheap, that it was up to us, and not some janitor, to clean it up. Believe it or not, I think that the guys' locker room was the cleaner of the two. Guys don't leave dirty tampons by the sinks or leave spilled cosmetics on the floors to stain other ladies' feet. Don't get me wrong, I'd rather men sit when they pee (or learn how to aim better), but sometimes they're the cleaner of the two types of pig.

I could see the outside world through the tinted glass doors opposite my post at the front desk, as well as my faded reflection staring back at me. Every once and a while the occasional, slowly humming car would glide past the doors. I just wanted to go home. My nerves were shot from a particularly miserable mid-term in my Poetry class. Our instructor, a rather effeminate man by the name of Professor Hong had ben quizzing us on the writings of the ancient poet Sapho. All the dates and placenames had slipped my mind, but I remember the poems quite well. I thought they were particularly daring for their time - they certainly turned me on. Her elegance with the written word had a way of causing me to fade out of this reality and become lost in a dream-like state of arousal; unaware of any specific memory or fantasy. Usually, I'd snap back into conciousness and find my nipples taught and my sex quivering.

I glanced at my reflection in the glass doors. My pale skin almost looked pale auqamarine under the life-draining florescent lights, unlike its natural hue of a pale, peach-colored cream. My hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, and was happy balancing between a blonde and a pumkin orange. I could even see my pale freckles dance around my cheeks and over my thin nose. But my lips, good lord, my lips were a deep wine color. They only do that when my mind has been thinking about the erotic, as do my nipples from time to time. My eyes, curtained by my thin glasses, flicked up to a reflected shadow moving up from behind me.

"It's eleven o'clock, Sonya," yawned Glen as he came to relieve me, "Time to clean the ‘war zone'."

I chuckled lightly at the joke (which I'd heard thousands of times before) and let him sit at the desk. He picked up a thick and worn copy of poetry that I had left open.

"You been reading again?" he asked.

He wasn't the type of man who used the gym to stay toned. Nor was he the type who used it to bulk up. He was a happy, middle-of-the-road user who was shaped like a large gummi bear. His round cheeks formed tight little balls on his face as he smiled.

"Yeah," I replied over my shoulder, "you should try it some time. Those graphic novels you're always reading don't count as literature."

"They do in some circles." retorted Glen.

"God help us all." I muttered under my breath as I grabbed an armfull of towels and stumbled into the ladies' locker room.

The room was empty. Not many women came into the gym this late at night, except maybe for that one fiftysomething housewife who did more parading in her lycra outfit than she did using the equipment. She hadn't come in that night, so my task there was relatively hassle free.

After tossing away the used towels and replacing them with crisp, clean ones, I wiped down the counters. As I was finishing up, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was a mess. My ponytail was falling apart in thick, amber strands that made me look like a porcupine. My eyelids were heavy, and tired. My green eyes were surprisingly dark. Even the bright yellow tiles of the room failed to liven up my face. I began to inspect my profile. I'm not a slender girl, but no one, save myself, has ever called me fat. One guy called me plump, but I think even that was a poor choice of words. I certainly have curves, some of which I'd like to see diminish a bit. But I've been complimented on my figure. My last boyfriend, a Philipino by the name of Michael, was particularly enamoured of my breasts. "Perky doves" is what he used to call them, because they were pale and ample with nipples that still managed to point upward despite their size. After I broke up with him, I still found myself caressing them in way he used to - it felt too good to forget the way his small hands stroked them.

I stared at myself for a moment or two more and then gave a huge sigh. Maybe when I had more time, I would work out more to tighten up here and there. But, for now, I had a job to do. So, I gathered up the remaining towels and made my way into the men's locker room.

The main room, where all the open showers and some of the tall lockers were, was empty. So I wiped down the counters of some of the leftover puddles of handwashing. I set down my burden of towels and stepped around the corner into the room where rows and rows of lockers were kept. I thanked my lucky stars that no one was in there, nor was there any real mess to speak of. An overwhelming yawn spread over my face. I was tired. My shoulders ached from the week's tensions. I tried my best to massage my shoulders to only a moderate success.

As I stood there, stroking my muscles, a sudden clank of a glass door being shut caused me to jump. I caught my breath when I realized that someone must have just stepped into the steam room. I heaved a sigh and made my way back into the main room.

The hissing of the steam room's jets filled my ears with an echo. I wanted to just slip out of the room without being noticed. Just then, I noticed something.

There, on a metal bench that sat between the doors of the hissing steam room and the dry darkness of the sauna, was a pair of gym shorts, a red t-shirt and a large watch. Even from a distance I could tell it was expensive, my father owns two Rolexes and this looked exactly like one of them. We had problems with stealing at this gym, and I hated to see someone lose something that valuable. Carefully, I picked up the watch and gently tapped on the glass steam room door.

"Hello?" I called. "Um...sir?"

"MMm?" was the muffled reply from inside.

"Uh...you left your watch out here, sir," I said, "You don't want someone to steal it, do you?"

"What?"

"I said, you don't want anyone to..."

Before I could finish, the door opened, revealing a tall naked man. He was dark haired and well built. He must have been in his thirties because I noticed a small peppering of gray at his temples. His muscled chest was covered with a mild carpet of soft, black hairs; which he kept neatly trimmed. His jaw was square, and sharply cut. His eyes were almost black they were so dark. His body was covered with a heavy sheen of steam and sweat, which trailed down his belly (which, I'll admit, was a little soft, but not too bad) and to his crotch. He wore no towel, so I couldn't help but take a fleeting glance at his member which dangled out in front of me. It was a beautiful penis, nothing like Michael's short little pecker. Michael did his best, but our size difference (he was 5' 5" and I am 5' 11") left me wanting sometimes. I suddenly remembered a passage from Sapho:

"Blessed as the immortal gods is he, The youth who fondly sits by thee, And hears and sees thee all the while Softly speak and sweetly smile."

"I don't want anyone to what?" he said, bringing my eyes back up to his.

"Uh...um..."I stammered. God! This man was attractive. "Your watch. It's nice. You might lose it if you...uh...leave it out here."

"Oh yeah." he answered, "Sometimes I forget about that thing. I had a hard game of raquetball today. I guess my mind was more on losing. Thanks."

He then took the watch from my hands. They were shaking. My heart was beating loudly in my ears.

"Anytime...uh..." I mumbled.

"Sean." he said, simply.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Sean."

"Oh!" I laughed, a little too whole-heartedly in my opinion, "Right! Duh! Okay! I'm Sonya."

"I know." he said.

"You do?"

"It's on your name tag." he said with a smile as he started to close the door. "Thanks."

I watched as his long frame faded into the steamy cloud within the room. The small, overhead light made his butt glisten and shine through the foggy glass.

I plopped down onto the bench to catch my breath. I couldn't get over how attracted I was to this man. The way his smooth, muscled arms flexed as they held the door open. He smelled of sweat and pricey cologne. But what I found myself thinking about was his cock. It was unusually gorgeous. I've slept with several men before then, and most of them were about as graceful as a tree stump with a badly trimmed limb sticking out in front. Sean was different. He was like a greek statue, only with tanned skin in place of cold marble.

The past four months had been absolute hell. I had been completely ignoring myself in every way. My bills were going unpaid, my emotions were locked away, and my skin was being denied thick warm desires. The stress had been too much for me, and I suddenly found myself lost in daydream - right where I was sitting.

I began to think of how Sean would feel. I could just imagine his weight on top of me, his muscles flexing with mine. I could almost feel his hot breath on my skin. My hand naturally fell onto my crotch and began to pet it like a docile kitten. I wanted to feel him pressed against me. I was no prude, but I suddenly began to think that I'd spent too much time with my books and not enough tending to my deepest needs. I moaned as my fingers brushed against my labia through my uniform cotton, drawsting pants.

"Ahem." A voice made my eyes fly open.

It was Sean. He was standing above me, toweling off his head and shoulders with one of the white towels from the stack next to me. I was frozen with fear. Here I was, already breaking company policy by being in an occupied men's locker room, but I was caught masturbating by a complete stranger!

"Do you do this often?" he asked politely as he continued to dry himself.

"Uh! Sorry!" I blustered. "Jesus! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to...shit!"

I couldn't move from where I was sitting. I was too scared to even run out of that room screaming from embarassment.

"It's okay." he said in a tone that soothed me for a moment.

He let the towel fall to the floor. His hand reached down and began slowly and gently stroking his still flacid cock. The moist skin of his shaft buckled and folded temptingly with each stroke.

"Sometimes I do this in the steam room," said Sean, "especially when I'm really stressed out. You been really stressed?"

I couldn't talk. My eyes were glued to his body. My throat made a slight groan as I watched him pull at himself for a moment or two. I could see his long testicles tighten slightly as his cock began to pulse with his heartbeat. I wanted him. I could feel my hand moving over myself again.

"I'm not usually like this." I muttered as I gave myself a heavy stroke, causing me to bite my lip.

"I don't care," he said, "I won't tell. But I think you should just give in to yourself. I mean ... You seem to be a ball of self-denial."

"Mmmmm," I cooed through pursed lips, "You're right."

With that, I reached out to him with one hand. His warm, wet palm joined mine as I pulled him closer to me, until he had to support himself with one knee on the bench. His pendulous testicles swung towards me as he settled next to me. My breathing was heavy. I wanted him. I could feel my sex swell and loosen as I watched him stroke his cock. I sat up and turned slightly, and with gentle, hungry lips, pulled him into my mouth.

Jesus, his cock tasted sweet with sweat and the musk of his skin. I was amazed at how wide it swelled with each lust filled stroke from my mouth. It became harder and harder to accept more of his shaft into my mouth it was so wide and engorged. The salt of his skin was seasoned with the occasional sting of his pre-cum.

"Oh my," Sean hissed, "That feels good."

My mouth formed a smile over his cock as my free hand pumped his glistening rod. I was overwhelmed with my lust.

Just then, I heard the click of a latch behind me. I only sucked on Sean for a moment more when I could feel the presence of someone behind us.

I looked over my shoulder to see a tall, black man. He had just come out of the sauna, and still held a magazine in one hand. He still wore a towel around his waist, but I could just see a visible bulge building in the front of the towel. His body was bulkier than Sean's, but not necessarily as toned. His eyes were almost like polished oak and his hair was set in small, shoulder-length dreadlocks.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" asked the tall black man. His voice rumbled through the locker room like an earthquake.

"This is my raquetball partner, Tony." explained Sean. "Tony, this is Sonya. We're just doing a little ... unwinding."

I wanted to jump up and shout, "What the hell? I'm not up for this shit!" But then I reminded myself that I was ignoring myself for far too long. Here was a chance to experience what I had dreamed about in my darkest fanatasies; and here were two good looking men willing to join me.

I said nothing. I just stood before them and pulled off my shirt and then lowered my sweatpants. I then unfastened my sports bra and let my C cup breasts spill out; my "doves" if you will. Sean stroked his cock again. I watched as Tony set his magazine down and then pulled off his towel. His penis was longer than Sean's, but thinner at least nine inches.

I resumed my position in front of Sean, and looked over my shoulder at Tony.

"Why don't you watch for a bit, Tony." I said with a naughty smile, "And I'll get to you later."

With a wicked slurp, I took Sean into my mouth again. His powerful fingers poured through my hair sending spasms down my spine. The sensation of his erection, with all of its exquisite folds and angry veins was enough to make my pussy ache. His hands slid down my back and around to my soft tits. His hands clutched and squeezed them, making my nipples fill with blush.

The thought of this new man jerking off right behind me, watching me suck off this dream lover, made me lose the last of my inhibitions. I moaned over the flesh in my mouth and then retreated for a moment.

"Oooh, my." I heaved, "I think someone's on the edge."

Sean nodded and then said, "Oh yeah. I could just cum all over you, Sonya. Would you like that?"

"MMmm, yes please." I declared.

Sean pulled and tugged at his full penis. Faster and faster he jerked and yanked at himself until, with a deep groan, he shot his sticky cum out onto me! I jerked back for a moment. I had never had someone spill so much onto me before. It was like a fountain of liquid pearl! It was so warm and wet, I spread it over my skin as it shot out onto my tits, my neck, and my belly.

"She likes it." rumbled Tony as he stroked his cock.

Sean merely nodded as he rode the waves hitting him.

"I think it's time we gave her some attention, Sean." said Tony.

A pair of dark, gentle hands found their way to my shoulders. I closed my eyes as Tony's mouth rested on my neck and began to suckle on my skin. It was wonderful! His hands migrated from my shoulders to my pert breasts; still moist from Sean. His long fingers teased and pleased my now bullet-like nipples. He gave them a firm, but pleasant tug that caused me to grind my ass against his hard-on. His probing shaft twitched and came to rest between my cheeks. His hands, refusing to break contact with my body, came around and rested on my back. He started to push me softly.

"Kneel forward, baby." He murmured into my ear with warm breath.

I couldn't resist. I obeyed. I felt vulnerable, but slightly powerful, as I knelt there on all fours like a wanton whore. Another passage from Sapho came into my mind:

"My bosom glowed: the subtle flame Ran quick through all my vital frame, O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung; My ears with hollow murmurs rung."

Tony knelt behind me and slowly spread my ass apart to gain access to my scorching sex. My back arched when his tongue playfully flicked at my swollen labia. Sean and I kissed again. The spots of his cum on my breasts were cooling like morning dew, making my nipples harder than ever. His hands fondled my hanging tits as Tony continued to lick me from behind.

Oh that tongue! Here was a man who enjoyed having a woman in his mouth. His lips were firm, while his tongue behaved like a beaded, wet finger - probing, tasting, feeling, teasing. My ass cheeks clenched as his tongue circled over my anus. I was never really into anal (I'm still not), but I must admit I enjoy having my asshole tickled with something smooth, warm and wet. The tongue stopped, which caused me to break from kissing Sean. I looked behind me with voracious eyes and saw Tony positioning himself behind me with that long staff of his.

My voice leapt up an octave as I felt his cock slip into me with a single, muscle widening thrust. My walls parted with small waves of pain that gave way to sheer joy. He filled me completely, but I could tell that there was no way he could fit up to the hilt; his cock was too long. He began to enter me again and again with slow, languid advances.

I felt Tony's hands caress my ass in long, firm circles. His touch was like steam across my cool, pale skin.

"Oooh, so soft." muttered Tony, mostly to himself.

Sean continued to stroke himself, bringing himself back into a slow, but firm, erection.

"Mmm...save some of her for me, Tony," said Sean.

"No worries, brother." groaned Tony as his tempo quickened.

His thrusts became deep and strong, some of them lifting me completely off of my feet. My hands clutched the metal bench for support. Tony was like a jazz dummer, and I was his snare; In-in-in, followed by a long sliding out. Over and over he did this, barely making a word, but I could tell by the way his hands moved over me that he was enjoying himself. He suddenly wrapped his fingers into my vulnerable hair, and pulled hard! I squealed like a little girl getting a surprise for her birthday. His body tensed. He grunted once, and then a potent jet of cum shot into my cunt with shaking spasms!

"Oooh, I liked that, Tony." I moaned as I lifted myself up from my "all-fours" position, "But you know what I really want? I think I need Sean to fuck me while I suck you off. Would you like that?"

"I think I could handle that," replied Tony.

I stood up for a moment, turned around, and then assumed the same postion. This time my ass was aimed straight at Sean. My fingers pulled opn my soaking pussy's lips. Sean said nothing as he stepped up, placed one hand on my butt and then eased himself in me. Despite being nicely fucked by this smooth black man, my pussy wasn't prepared for Sean's girth. It hurt, especially his huge cockhead.