Meaningless Kisses

The redhead stroked my face gently. I licked her finger. Slowly, she helped me sit up. Wooden sauna benches, even in a gay sauna where people fucked all the time, really weren't designed for lying on.

I supposed the male clientele didn't need to lie down.

Rachel came to sit next to me, inching closer. Like she wanted a snuggle, but didn't dare ask.

I put an arm round her, just like I would the unloved criminal kids I'd looked after, camping, the summer before last. I tried to force away my memories of working with Ali there. I wanted Rachel to feel pride.

I kissed the girl again, lightly. "Thanks. That was brilliant." More kisses from her, too. Meaningless kisses, still fun.

"Was that OK?"

Poor, nervous newbie. "Really. I wouldn't lie to you," I assured her. "Not like you're going to get a complex about the size of your dick, now, is it?"

"She was lovin' it, pet," the big blond woman interrupted. "Eyes closed, purring..."

"Like a cat, you had her going," the redhead chipped in. "Real nice. You were so cute, being all enthusiastic! You two were adorable!"

The big problem with sex in public is, every fucker has an opinion. At two a.m., after a bottle of house white, they bloody tell you it. On the other hand, Rachel might believe them more than she did me.

"Like they said," I told her, pulling the girl to lean on my shoulder. It was a bit awkward; I wasn't used to a woman taller than me. Or a man, either, in the last year. She seemed to like it, though.

Rachel whispered in my ear. "You've got bruises on your arse."

"Mm?"

"Accident, or on purpose?"

The girl had got this far. She wasn't going to be actually shocked. "Purpose. I like playing with a mate of mine -- well, I did with the ex too, she was the one who introduced me to proper SM -- but yeah, my mate Rich tried to distract me from the breakup, bless him..."

"Can I press them?" She was clearly fascinated, and didn't wait for an answer. She reached both arms round me, and shoved her fingertips into my sorest points.

I shivered, and thrust against her, groaning. Her initial alarm melted into a relieved smile, once she realized my reaction was a good thing. She pressed again.

Now, it was mischievous kisses she was planting on my chest and shoulders. She might not have got her tongue on -- or in -- a woman before, but she knew men, people. Men and women aren't so different.

I grabbed her hair, pulled her close. She'd raised the topic of power play, after all. I wasn't surprised when she nipped my earlobe, cheekily, then hissed, "Are you going to reciprocate, then?"

I managed to bite back any snark about a big word. "Brat! I could. But, seeing as there's so many women around, it seems almost unfair to keep you all to myself, if we're here to introduce you to women, my friend..."

I felt, more than heard, the intake of breath from at least three women in the crowded hot room. Four, including Rachel.

"Mm. What would they be doing?"

"Whatever. No, just stroking and kissing you all over, I guess. I can guard your pussy, kiss your mouth, if you'd like that?"

"Guarding my cunt sounds less fun than I'd hoped," she grumbled.

"Not the way I do it, love. If we go in the steam room, you on my lap, I can play with you, kiss you, but then the steam rises and there's hands everywhere, no-one can see..."

"And I thought people just sat there, just like a sauna."

"They can do." My dry voice. "Just like in this sauna here."

Her wicked grin reappeared. "Where's this steam room, then?"

Blonde Big-Tits and Perky Redhead came with us. I was getting a bit of a crush on the lass with her quiff of auburn hair. Her outspoken mate was nice, impressive solid curves, but must be twice my age. As they followed, Perky wiped Blondie's face with her towel; they must be lovers.

"You ever been in a darkroom, or done this before?" Blondie asked Rachel.

"No. Why? It's like a sauna, only with more steam, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah," Redhead said. "Just that with the steam, no-one can see anything..."

"So don't try to stand up, because it's slippy," I warned.

Rachel nodded. "No-one can see; everyone can reach out and feel. Is that what you mean?"

"Uh-huh."

"OK. I mean, people are going to be gentle, right?"

"They'll try. Oh, here we go." A group of women emerged, a couple with sheepish grins. All of us left towels outside, only a few of us taking one in for comfort or face-wiping.

Two white-marble benches faced each other in a dimly-lit room, the benches a couple feet apart. Every surface dripped with warm water. I sat in the middle of one bench, and beckoned Rachel to sit on my lap.

"There's enough space, you know." About ten of us were in the room. Another four or six could have been accommodated, depending on how friendly we were.

"I know. Just -- it's nice to hold someone." Fuck. My emotions were hitting me, in what must be the small hours. At least with the steam welling up, it wouldn't matter if I cried.

Rachel quirked an eyebrow the tiniest amount, didn't expect an answer, and plonked herself sideways on my lap, twisted so her feet could reach the ground. I leaned back against the warm wet wall, she leaned between my breasts.

"Someone done the button?" Blondie asked.

"Yeah," someone called out in reply, but it was already getting noticeably hard to make out anyone opposite.

"Aah," went a contented voice in the corner, possibly planning to doze off, enjoying inhaling the steam. The mist somehow smelled of the opposite of chlorine, not exactly floral or spicy, but pleasant enough.

I could see Rachel on my lap, a smear of long dark hair over beige skin, but aside from glimpses of pink or brown bodies when they shifted about, I soon could see nothing else through the whiteness. Like a blizzard, only seductively hot and moist. I heard several happy gasps. Just from the warmth? Probably not.

Rachel put her arm around my back to better hold herself in place. The hand on my leg must be her other one -- or was it?

A kiss on my foot was definitely from someone else.

I walked my fingers up Rachel's back, like I used to do with Ali. I could deny it, claim it was someone else. After counting up every vertebra I automatically rubbed the surprisingly non-tense muscles of her neck. Of course. She wasn't Ali.

No matter how much I knew we'd never have worked in the long term, not to mention a touch of relief that her musculoskeletal problems were not my problem in the slightest any more, I sorely missed the woman. I'd never get to play with her body like this again. I clawed a handful of hair and pulled gently, then another. That had always triggered Ali to turn over and fuck me silly in one way or another.

"Oi," Rachel said. "Stop that."

"Sorry." Eventually I added, "Forgot who I was with."

"Yeah, well." Her hand didn't seem to be stroking me as firmly. Just as well the room was full of steam; no-one could see tears falling from my eyes.

She made herself clear. "Easy on the scalp, mate." Rachel spoke with boredom, as if men she'd had sex with had done similar. Richie reckoned my sexual responses and urges were rather male, but given that he'd provoked half of them -- many in the last week, trying to cheer me up the only way he knew how -- I figured that was bollocks.

"Sorry, love. Just enjoying your beautiful body." I recalled her insecurity from earlier. "I bet everyone in this room would love to feel you up. You still up for that?"

"Whatever," she replied. She seemed honest. She really didn't believe anyone looking -- or, now, feeling -- would want her. Her with her perfect 5'10 height like any model, her long long legs, neat little adorable tits!

I swung one of my legs out from under her and laid it across both of hers, careful not to kick anyone. One body moved my foot with her hands.

"You're trapped. You'll just have to bear being kissed and stroked by anyone who wants to," I told her.

"Let them," she retorted.

I felt the mass of womanly flesh converge upon us. Strokes of my legs were matched by ones on hers, I was sure.

Kisses everywhere. At least five mouths.

Lips on mine. They weren't Rachel's.

Rachel was murmuring into my ear, "Keep your hand here." She picked up my left arm and put my hand between her legs. Maybe she wanted a bit of guarding after all? "There. Now everyone else can do what they want."

"Mm-hm."

"Yeah. You're gorgeous, you are," she told me.

A tear dropped off the end of my nose. I'd swear it was condensed steam. Ali used to call me gorgeous. Probably still would; just she wanted to live with this new lass she'd found. By crashing into her at roller derby, of all things.

Maybe Rachel realised my rebound sex had plummeted to the emotional ground. "Hey, you? You're lovely. You'll get a new relationship, any time you want one."

It suddenly seemed a crying shame this Rachel wasn't an option for a relationship, even if she was speaking sense. I didn't want to be tied to anyone right now, given I'd be moving city in eight months: who knew where to? Though London was still the likeliest option. I'd had dreams of moving in with Ali, with or without her flatmate Andy who had made it clear he was sticking with Al until his own degree was done, then escaping the city. Maybe I'd still end up on Andy's sofa-bed, maybe in his bed, sometimes.

But I'd loved Ali. Still loved her, really, despite being dumped. I'd have to learn how to harden my heart again, but that was so much effort. I didn't want to become just the quiet figure in the background again, not letting out any feelings...

It was because it was 3 a.m. It's always 3 a.m., when life seems most difficult and you can't cope. The tears overflowed.

I might have got away with no-one noticing, but Rachel on my lap was too close.

"Hey, you. Laur? Fuck, have a towel, blow your nose. They wash them, right? Yeah. Fuck your ex! I mean, not, but y'know? There's a lot going for being single, yeah? Like this?" She kissed along my shoulder.

I felt better after the explosion of tears and snot. The steam washed everything away; our sweat, my tears, my downbeat emotions.

Having a cute naked woman on my lap did help, I had to admit. I let my face rest on her breast. She was warm, wet from the steam, and smelled lovely.

She tasted lovely, too. Hints of herbs, and sandalwood. Different from Ali, but that wasn't a bad thing. I'd have to get used to future partners being different, after all.

Rachel squirmed around across my thighs, adorably. Then she pushed herself off, onto the seat beside me. One arm wrapped round my shoulders, heavy and comforting. I think her other hand rested between her legs. Pleasure, or protectiveness? Possibly both. I liked thinking of her playing with herself. Then she spoke, calling out to everyone in the small room, with all the confidence our school had hoped to instil in a young lady.

"Excuse me, everyone! My friend here is feeling sad from a broken heart, and needs to be reminded that women can be lots of fun. So, you know... go for it."

She idly toyed with my breast while the room let out varied thoughtful noises. Her touch was pleasant. Relaxing. The blinding steam stopped me peering to see what might be going to happen.

It was someone else who was playing with my foot. A third, by my leg.

Another woman sidled up along the bench, pressing her wet naked skin against mine. Her hand patted my thigh reassuringly. It might have been Blondie, only I was fairly sure she was the one kneeling before me to rest her pendulous big tits in my lap. I thought I glimpsed Redhead beside her, reaching a shy hand to my tummy -- and her other hand towards Rachel.

Someone else stood before me -- hopefully not treading on the blonde. She ran her fingers carefully through the steam to settle them in my hair and then over my face. I sucked on the finger when it touched my lips -- muscular yet somehow dry, flavoured with cocoa butter. When a dark face appeared through the mist, I managed to kiss it, eventually getting her mouth on mine.

It was probably Redhead or Blondie playing with my breasts now. Or Rachel. Though the small squeal on my right, with the odd gasp, sounded like Rachel was being effectively distracted.

I stopped fretting about Rachel.

It took some manoeuvring, but someone managed to get a hand on my cunt while they or someone else held my thighs down. A mouth kissed all over my breasts while I kissed someone else's. Warm weighty soft rounds, with large nipples. Cute squeals happened when I sucked them.

A couple more minutes later, my pussy full of fingers, I'd stopped worrying about anything at all. I no longer cared about who I was no longer going out with, nor about who I was being pleasured by now.

So much womanly pleasure. Female bodies all round, being so caring and downright feminine in the best ways, however butch several of them might look. God, I loved being queer.

Hands and skin and wine-scented breath were all over me. I couldn't have figured out the configurations even if I'd tried to work it out. I let slow screams out of my throat.

Live in the moment. Seize the day. And other such clichés.

I dozed off, blissfully, as the drifts of steam slowly dwindled.

Sadly, the various hands and kisses did, too.

Except Rachel was still there, her arm still around me. She seemed much more content with life than she had been when we'd first met, which I decided was a good thing. Blondie and Redhead helped me and her up.

"Are you all right?" they asked both of us.

"Yeah," I said. "Much better. Not missing anything from my ex, now." Richie had made up for the kink; now I'd had my fill of sexy women replenished, enough touches of sweet soft skin to be going on with.

"And you?"

Rachel tried for an innocent look. It failed. No wonder she'd often been in trouble at school. "What time is it?" Rachel asked.

"About half three," the buxom blonde informed her.

"Ah. Well, I'm completely fine! Just... I was a virgin three hours ago..." By some limited definition.

"And you're not now? What were they doing to you, in there?" I was teasing, not expecting actual information. Especially because technically I'd been the guilty one, back in the bubbling water.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," she said primly.

"Ladies don't get naked and offer their bodies to strangers! Or maybe, they do? Once you got going... I felt you squirming next to me!" Like she'd done on my hand in the Jacuzzi.

"Making up for lost time!" He voice was determined.

"You're only eighteen! How much time have you lost, really?" Even if the age of consent was sixteen, and possibly non-existent for lesbian sex anyway.

"Too fucking much! Now I know places like this exist. Are any of those sofas free, yet?"

Amazingly, we managed to squeeze onto a large couch. Again, naked bodies pressed against us on each side. The drunk women around us were critiquing the gay porn.

"Eh, call that a blow job! I've taken tits deeper than that!"

"Yeah, but you're a big old slapper, Jen!"

"Ooh, look, he's about to get fucked!"

"Finally! He's cute, he ought to get properly fucked!"

"Oh, come on! What are you doing? Get on with it, boy!"

"Aagh! Don't just show us sticky dicks! Show us that nice boy getting it!"

"There we go! Finally! He's so sweet!" A cheer from his audience.

"No! Why do they cut away from the hot boy getting a pounding!" Everyone had groaned. "Who wants to zoom in on gunge coming out of a dick?"

"Men, presumably," I commented. "You'd think they'd have seen enough of it from their own cocks."

"I think they're just obsessed with their own cocks." Rachel sighed. "My mum claims gay people don't actually fancy the same sex, they're just narcissists who fancy themselves, so go for anyone who looks like they do. Maybe she's got a point, about the cock?"

"Maybe. I mean, you're tall and brunette like me..." I joked.

"Nope. You're tall and slim, I'm gangly and flat-chested; you've got tits to kill for."

I admit, I like my breasts. A good curve below my shoulders, each making a nice handful. "But, girl, you've got great tits too! Just different. There's many types of fantastic tits in the world." I gestured wildly around the room. Someone had refilled my wine glass.

"Hear, hear!" More cheering.

"You, my girl, are gorgeous, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Your mam, aye, well, she don't know owt about shit! I bet those lads you're working with think you're hot, right? Some of them made a move, didn't they? Well, then."

"They just wanted a fuck. OK, maybe not just..."

"Fuck it." I put down the glass. "Who here thinks this girl is beautiful and sexy and fuckable?"

A roar of agreement from all round us. Rachel giggled slightly, blushing, and hid her hot face in my shoulder. I nudged her into more frivolous kisses. Her skin tasted divine. As had various other women's, earlier.

Who needed one particular coconut-scented bint? I nibbled Rachel's lovely earlobe; she giggled and clawed my belly and arse with her fingernails.

Reluctantly, I lifted my mouth from her elegant cleavage. "Told you. Right, well, you've got me over my ex-girlfriend. Mission accomplished. And I've relieved you of your virginity, kinda. Call it quits, and get some kip?"

She was already snoring on my shoulder. I let my eyes close, too. This must be the only place in London where I could happily fall asleep in public, even without being naked.

"Wakey-wakey, we're closing in ten minutes!"

I blearily sat up, dislodging Rachel from my chest.

"Huh?"

"Time to get dressed."

As ever, I had that momentary fear that my clothes would have been stolen and I'd have to travel home in just a towel. I took a breath, reminded myself I could surely borrow something in that unlikely event. Also as usual, everything was in our lockers, safe and sound. The changing room was cold, in comparison to the main spa. We flung our clothes on as fast as we could, Rachel needing time with her bootlaces.

"When does the first Tube run?" Rachel asked. "They're later on Sundays, aren't they?"

"Round 6:30, or seven," I agreed. "But it's five now. I don't know when your first train is?"

"Six-thirty? Something like that. Is there anywhere better than Euston McDonald's, where we could get breakfast and chill until then?"

"There's pubs by Smithfield. The wholesale market? But I don't know how many open early on a Sunday, when it's closed. There's a few caffs near Farringdon and King's Cross, though, if you don't mind the walk?"

She shrugged, her defensiveness gone back on with the denim jacket. "Not got anything else to do, have I? Sorry. Yeah, why not? Just don't want all the aggro, of being a lone woman around a mainline station early in the morning."

"Tell me about it... Not that the pubs open early are much better -- I mean, Smithfield is an actual meat market, so you can see how women are rare and the workers assume you're there for the other kind of meat-market..." The sort of bar or club where men went to acquire a live female body for a quick fuck. 'Live' might even be negotiable. 'Conscious enough to walk' certainly was.

Turned out, the only pub open didn't serve food beyond crisps and pickled eggs, but some chaps pointed us to a proper greasy spoon café towards Farringdon. It met my basic requirements of plenty of cheap tasty food loaded onto its white Formica tables, plus clean toilet with typical mismatched tiles pressed into way too much grout. The clientele was mixed: half manual workers, half clubbers with hangovers.

Rachel raised her coffee to me. "Cheers. Thanks."

"You're welcome. It's been a pleasure."

"Ooh, you did pick up some of those boarding-school manners!"

"Yeah. And learnt when to toss them aside." I munched through the rest of my eggs and toast.