Walpurgis Night by Katherine Kingston

spot deep inside that made her jump. The hot fire blazed within, needing him to quench it. She groaned as she bounced up and down faster and faster.
    “Oh Lord,” she murmured. “ Henrik . Love—” She screamed as he pinched a nipple hard at the same time his cock surged against her. It sent her over the edge in the spasms of release. She sobbed aloud as the heat exploded within her, sending repeated jolts through her body. He pushed into her two more times before the spasms of her release sucked him into spilling his seed.
    The wonderful starbursts of pleasure kept firing off within her, launching her higher and higher into the oblivion of total ecstasy. For long minutes afterward she did naught but sit there, clutching him within her body, disinclined to move or let him go. The pleasure softened and faded but left her peacefully spent.
    She pulled herself off him and half collapsed to her knees by the side of the bench, her head pillowed on his stomach. He stroked her damp hair. They stayed that way for some time, content to be peaceful together, touching each other.
    Eventually, though, he roused. She lifted her head and sighed. He stood up, went and picked something else up from a corner of the room. When he came back, she saw he held a cake of soap.
    “Now that we’ve sweated and licked all the dirt away, we use the soap to wash,” he said. The note of humor in his voice told her he appreciated the mild irony of his words.
    They used another bucket of water to soap themselves. Henrik poured water from the bucket over her hair and massaged the soap into it, careful to be sure none dripped forward into her eyes. The feel of his fingers rubbing at her scalp and slipping along the strands of her hair would have been arousing were she not already so sated.
    She did the same for him, in turn, and found a different sort of satisfaction and intimacy in the task of soaping his hair. It roused again that possessive longing to have more of him than just these few stolen moments. She fought back the tears and won.
    “Come now for the last part of the bath,” he said, when she’d got his hair nicely full of lather. “The part that will make you feel refreshed.”
    He drew her to her feet and led her to the door then out. She looked around, hoping no one could see them as they walked naked through the trees. They were alone, however, and she heard no sound of anyone else nearby. The cooler, drier air was a shock on her bare skin after the hot dampness of the sauna. It was naught compared with the shock when he led her along a path downhill to the river and waded right in, dragging her with him.
    “What are you doing?” she yelled at him as he pulled her along.
    “This is the final step in getting truly clean,” he said. “’ Tis a shock at first, but get in it and you’ll find it refreshing.
    At the outset, at least, it wasn’t refreshing at all, it was just cold. Her nipples tightened into pebbles and gooseflesh popped out all over her. She squealed as he plunged in, moving out in the water until he was up to his chest. He scooped up handfuls of water to rinse off his chest then ducked his head in it to wash away the soap in his hair.
    Fianna hesitated, but since she was already in the water, and had a head full of soapy hair, she followed his example. It was cold on her thighs then on her belly and her breasts. It was cold on her shoulders and in her hair when she dipped it into the water to rinse off the soap.
    “Now jump up and down a few times to get your blood moving,” he advised. He held her hand and hopped with her, bobbing up and down in the water. After a few minutes she realized her body was adjusting to the water temperature and it wasn’t too unpleasant. Still, she didn’t object when he said it was time to go back.
    They got out of the water and ran, hand in hand, up the hill back to the steam hut, laughing together like children, their wet hair streaming out behind them. They reached the hut and