Wearing only our bathrobes after the sauna, we enter the slow hotel elevator to level fifteen. A broken robe seam allows access to your skin. Leaning back, I seek out your sex, inserting a finger from behind.

You moan and wriggle your tush at the invasion. Smiling, I wriggle my finger as you push back, trapping my thumb between your supple cheeks.

Fingering in and out, your breathing quickens. My spare fondle a breast, squeezing its nipple through the fabric. You succumb to your orgasm with nectar dribbling down your thigh. We straighten our robes in time for opening doors.