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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don't type things myself."  I think it's  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.                   o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

                        [Wild women dreaming wet...]

     Turkish Bath or: Collapse of Lust (FF)
     by Katrin Kremmler

     I took her to this turkish bath in my neighborhood. I thought
     maybe this was a good way to get warm with each other.

     It's a nice new place. You undress completely, then you sit for
     an hour, pouring warm water over your or each other's body, then
     you rub your skin with a silk glove until it's red and all the
     mud comes off. There are lots of other naked women around you,
     occupied with the same procedures, and if you're not as short
     sighted as me you can see a lot.

     It's an athmosphere like at the ladies' hairdresser, laughing,
     chat, gossip in Turkish and German.
     I thought it's a good place to take her to, worth a try.

     We sat next to each other, naked, wet, steaming, and I realized I
     didn't like her body at all.
     We were talking about everyday's things, avoiding any personal
     issues, and more and more I realized, that I actually didn't want
     to talk to her at all. It was an error. False alarm. Seeing her
     naked just turned me off. Well, sorry.

     While I busily poured hot water over my shoulders I saw a spark
     in her eyes. Steaming womens'bodies, hot water, soft music,
     incense in the air. She asked me to rub her back, smiling
     knowingly.
     So much mud came off her back. I scrubbed her like my kitchen
     floor at the Annual Cleaning. She moaned with pleasure.
     A detergent ad came to my mind, "cleans so well that you can see
     yourself like in a mirror."
     I imagined my face looking at me from her gleaming back and
     decided to get out of there. I went to the sauna, which was
     empty.

     Finally alone, I welcomed the heatflash in every limb. I took a
     deep breath and fell in a desert dream. Just me, heat, sand.
     Wonderful.

     The door opened. A hand on my thigh. "Finally alone", she
     murmured, and I understood that she got the whole situation
     completely wrong.
     "Umm, I'm sorry, I'm not supplied," I said in my surprise, "I
     didn't bring gloves with me..." (Which was true).
     "I don't mind", she said and started licking pearls of sweat from
     my tits.
     "Hey listen", I said, "we can't do this, there is fungus
     everywhere!"
     "I always wanted to do it in a sauna", she replied. " I want you.
     I want you now."

     The air was 80 degrees centigrade, her full weight on me, and my
     circulation isn't very firm. I started to choke. "Smokers !" she
     murmured, tenderly caressing a certain spot between my legs. With
     no success, of course.

     I got dizzy. There was desert everywhere. Clouds of strange
     colours in front of my eyes. I heard her moaning from far away. I
     wondered what she was doing.

     ***********************

     "Poor child !" the fat turkish lady says.
     I'm lying on the floor, in front of the sauna cabin. The doctor
     pats my head and tells everybody not to worry, it was just a
     little much for me. "Don't go to the sauna if you can't take it",
     she says as she sees I'm awake.

     My friend is holding my hand, deeply touched. As the doc
     disappears, she gives me a deep, intensive look.

     "So much passion," she says.

                             [Les Amantes...]

  .............. The writer of this story: Katrin Kremmler! .......

                            Her author Profile:

                      is to be found just right here!

                             (bigsize smile...)

..................................................................

         Please mind: None of these brilliant women is interested
                   in receiving mails from male admirers!

If you can't resist sending bigot comments: just be prepared for this! : )

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