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Onsen Onna (Hot Spring Lady)

Part I – the meeting

Onsen bathing is one of the highlights of any trip to Japan. Add meeting an intriguing woman for a memorable experience!

There are onsen (hot springs) everywhere in Japan, literally hundreds of places with naturally heated water that comfort millions of Japanese who go on meccas for the best onsenburo (hot spring bath) experiences. Weekends are often fully booked at popular onsen towns, especially near Tokyo and Osaka, the two most populated regions in the country.

I'm a 40-something white guy from the Southwest USA, assigned to Tokyo as a human resources specialist and employee counselor. I was fortunate to find a job in personnel, thanks to my M.A. in human resource management and M.S. in psychology.

I needed a break from the typical grueling work schedule, six days a week with many evenings out for socializing with co-workers and the bosses. I thought it would be fun to go to a rural onsen in a small town, mostly to get away from the busy metropolitan areas. Nikko, a couple of hours from Tokyo, seemed like a good prospect with lots of ryokan (traditional inns) with their own onsenburo--especially on a weekeday when fewer people are traveling. I did my research online and found a small ryokan with only a few rooms and their own onsen baths, not too far from the train station.

From Tokyo, I took a JR bullet train to Utsunomiya going north, then transferred to the local Nikko Line. On the way to Nikko, I happened to notice a beautiful Japanese woman sitting across the aisle. I'd say she was in early 30s, about 5'8", slender with long silky hair down to her waist.

What really caught my attention was that she was nicely dressed in a simple white skirt and blouse, coffee-toned hose, and 2" heels--like she was going to work in a big company in Tokyo. Really elegant! Every so often, I glanced over to my left to check out this beautiful woman. Her face was gorgeous, like one of the many beautiful models in ads for Shiseido or Sony.

We finally arrived at Nikko Station. Exiting the front entrance, I glanced around for the taxi waiting area. A line of taxis waited for people going to area hotels and lodging.The woman and I approached the taxi in the front simultaneously. I bowed to her and said "Dozo, osaki ni" (please, you first).

She replied in an enchanting soft voice, "Domo, sumimasen" (Thank you). She instructed the driver that she was going to Harunoya. The driver opened the automatic door to let her in.

I said to her, "I'm going to the same ryokan. May we go together?"

She replied, "Yes, of course. That would be fine."

I followed her into the back seat while the driver placed our small suitcases in the trunk. As she scooted over to the right side (riders enter from the left side), her skirt rode up her shapely legs and revealed a little more of her coffee-colored hose to almost mid-thigh.

Ooh, I thought, she has excellent taste for hosiery--not the usual matte-finish cheap cream-colored pantyhose that the typical woman in Japan wears--but a super sheer pantyhose that must have been 10-15 denier (I'm a stocking lover as you will see). It was a rare sight anywhere, especially with the unfortunate decline in women's hosiery nowadays.

She settled into her seat and pulled her hem down after realizing that a lot of her legs was showing. I tried to avoid admiring her legs, but it was difficult!

The driver got underway after checking on the ryokan's location (no street addresses in Japan, so you really need to know the city!). The late afternoon light came in from the right side, shining through her sheer white blouse with warm backlight. I looked down and noticed the backlighting also revealed the texture of her skirt material. It looked like a very light, finely woven linen.

Then I noticed the telltale bumps of garter clips and outline of garter straps! I could almost make out the line of the stocking tops--not the lacey type, but the original banded top. As the late afternoon sun swung over a little, I saw what looked like the glint of shiny metal garter clips--not the cheap, unreliable plastic clips.

The light also revealed a little more detail showing through the thin skirt--a thin light line across her leg, a hint that she may be wearing the old Hanes stockings with the light-colored edge on the stocking top. She wasn't wearing a slip! I thought, "This is turning out better than expected!"

We finally arrived at the Harunoya ryokan up in the hills, about 20 minutes from the train station. We split the cabfare and exited the taxi on the left side.

As I helped her out, her skirt again rode up her long legs. This time, a little more of her gorgeous nylon-clad legs was revealed. I noticed the edge of the dark stocking tops peeking out. I could also see the light-colored garter strap and shiny garter clip showing through her linen skirt.

As we picked up our suitcases and walked toward the main entrance of the ryokan, I saw the signboard listing the guests for the evening. I saw my name, then the only other guest that night: Naito Erika. Nice name!

We entered the genkan (entry) where we were immediately greeted by the okami (owner) who welcomed us to her ryokan. As is customary, we took off our street shoes before entering the ryokan. I untied my shoelaces and walked up a little step to put on slippers.

Erika slipped out of her heels and walked up the short step. She was wearing RHT stockings with reinforced heels and toes. I haven't seen RHT nylons for eons! She slipped on her ryokan slippers and followed the okami to her room. Another ryokan assistant took me to my room, across the hall from Erika's.

Going down the hallway lit from the back by an open window, I could easily see the outlines of Erika's legs through her thin linen dress. It was easy to imagine her without her skirt and just admiring her stocking-clad legs. Mmmmm.

She entered the room and smiled at me, saying in surprisingly excellent English, "Good to meet you. See you at dinner." The okami had reminded us that we should take a bath in the ryokan's daiyakujo (public bath) or the kashikiriburo (private bath)--and even an uchifuro (private family bath). They were all open 24 hours without reservations. Great!!

After unpacking and resting for a moment, I threw off my street clothes and donned the yukata (bathing clothes) provided by the ryokan. It fit perfectly. How did they know my size, "L?"

As I exited my room named "Fuji no Hana" (Wisteria), Erika came out of her room, named "Sakura no Hana" (cherry blossom). Nicer ryokan often have rooms with special names.

She was also wearing a white yukata with a sakura flower design. The yukata was made with rather thin cotton, perfect for the hot, humid summers in Japan. It was so thin, in fact, that as I followed behind her, I thought I saw the outline of a white garter belt, white panties, and dark stockings.

As my eyes followed her slim legs downward, I noticed the back of her heel in the ryokan slippers--RHT heels! She hadn't bothered to take off her stockings! She was going to wear them into the women's bathroom!

We both approached the daiyakujo (public bath) for men and women. The main entry had the Japanese character for "yu" (or hot water), the universal symbol throughout Japan for a hot bath, both hot springs and regular public baths with heated water. It's an essential Japanese character to know if you like hot baths.

She entered the women's side signified by a red noren (a curtain in the entryway). I called after her, "Have a nice one!"

She smiled back and said, "You too!" As her door closed behind her, I saw her slipping off her slippers, exposing her RHT nylon-covered feet.

Across the top of the wall dividing between the two sides, I could hear walking around the dressing room, placing her clothes in the bamboo clothes basket, and entering the bath area. I did the same and entered the bath area also.

Of course, it is mandatory in Japan that everyone takes a complete bath before entering the furo itself. This is so that the furo water remains clean and absolute free of body oils, soap and other contaminants. It is said that bath managers will drain everythiing if he/she catches a bather entering a furo otherwise.

Across the open divider between the men's and women's bathing areas, I could hear Erika showering and bathing for almost 10 minutes. I also enjoyed the scalding hot water, the nicely scented shampoo and conditioner, and body soap. My room had a local specialty, horse-oil soaps. They have a creamy texture that leaves the hair and body silky smooth.

After cleansing myself head to toe, and rinsing off completely, I headed toward the rotenburo (outside bath). I opened the door leading to the outside and felt the slightly cooler air of Nikko which is in the mountains at a higher elevation than Tokyo. I stepped into the rotenburo and immediately felt the city's stress flowing out of my body. Ahhhh! All I needed was a glass of cold sake!

For the next half hour, I rotated between the rotenburo and the regular furo inside, taking chilling cold showers in between to cool off my body to avoid a stroke or heart attack. The time passed quickly and my body felt totally refreshed.

I went back to the dressing room, finished drying off, and put my yukata back on. As I exited the men's side, I didn't see Erika. No problem... I'll see her at dinner in another 10-20 minutes.

Dinner was set for 7 pm in the small dining room near the main lobby. Knowing how ryokan pamper their guests, I anticipated another grand feast, Japanese style (not quantity, but quality--with variety, beautiful presentation, and service).

I got ready a couple of minutes before heading out again. I was looking forward to meeting Erika and learning more about her. She was fascinating! I sprayed on a little shot of cologne, but not too much because Japanese people don't like strong fragrances. I chose a citrus base which is very refreshing in the summer.

As I came out of my room, Erika also came out, wearing her yukata. She looked stunning with her flowing silky, black hair and photogenic face. Did I mention that I'm also a semi-professional photographer specializing in portraits? This time, I could see the front of her thin yukata and trace the outline of her front garter straps and dark stocking tops. Oh my! This is going to be a long dinner!

We entered the dining area and were ushered to our individual tables where we would sit on the floor. Erika had removed her ryokan slippers upon entering and was walking in her stocking feet. I admired her feet showing the dark reinforced heels and toes as she shuffled her way to her seat. Nylon stockings on tatami mats make a nice "swooshy" sound!

She sat down Japanese style with her legs under her--very uncomfortable for Westerners like me, but nothing for most Japanese. I sat down with Erika sitting at the next table in front of me. Her RHT-nylon clad feet were pointed in my direction--in plain view for the entire dinner.

I endured the fine dinner which lasted almost an hour with course after course of seasonal specialties and local foods. It was as good as many dinners I've enjoyed in Kyoto, the dining capital of Japan.

All evening, we had not spoken with each other as we individually enjoyed the wonderful dinner. After sipping on green tea to complete the fine meal, we both got up to leave the dining room. As she walked toward me, I ventured a quick introduction before the moment was lost.

"Excuse me," I said as I bowed. "I wonder if you would't mind, but I would like to introduce myself. My name is Eric and I am from America. Pleased to meet you."

She bowed back and replied, "Oh, excuse me. My name is just like yours! I am Erika and I'm from Tokyo."

Pleased to meet you also." I said, "I forgot to thank you earlier for sharing the cab ride to this ryokan."

Erika replied, "Oh, my pleasure. It was good to share the ride. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm sorry I had some things on my mind."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bother you." Before I missed this chance, I blurted out, "If you have a moment, would you like to sit down in the lounge area? There's not much to do around the ryokan at this hour, so I wouldn't mind talking with another guest for a little while."

Surprisingly, Erika responded with, "You know, that's a good idea. Talking with someone would be nice."

I gathered that she was eager to connect with someone. We walked together toward the front lobby area where there was a lounge off to the side. The okami and staff were busy cleaning up in the dining area and the front desk was already closed, so we had the lobby to ourselves.

We found a quiet corner and sat down in the comfy faux-leather lounge chairs--a little deep for shorter Japanese people, but OK for us Americans. A low coffee table separated us. Erika sank deep into her chair, but tried to sit more upright. I liked that because we could sit a little closer together.

Trying to break the ice, I asked, "How are you enjoying your stay at this ryokan?"

Erika replied, "It's nice to get away from Tokyo."

I said, "Yes, same for me. Work is so busy that I needed to take a break."

Erika replied, "I also needed a break, but for different reasons."

I thought, "Should I ask why?" I felt a little adventurous, so I asked, "May I ask why?"

She said, "I've been having difficulties with my boy friend and I needed to get away for a few days."

I said, "I can understand that. Sometimes it is nice to take a short break to think about things."

Erika blurted out, "I don't know why Masato thinks I'm so strange! I'm just trying my best to be the perfect girlfriend, but he thinks my obsession is weird. He doesn't appreciate me!"

"Wow, I thought. What am I getting into?" I decided to say nothing for a while, realizing that silence is sometimes more important in communications in Japanese culture--compared to American culture in which we feel a compulsion to fill in moments of silence. I just nodded quietly.

Erika began to cry and I wasn't sure what I should do next. Should I try to comfort her, or wait? I then realized that Erika might be more Western than many Japanese women. Usually, Japanese women are much more reserved with strangers, especially gaijin (foreigners) and would never, never reveal personal feelings so easily. I took a chance.

"Erika, is there anything I can do to help? I'm sorry to see that you are upset."

Erika said, "I'm also sorry to bother you with my personal problems. I don't even know you!" I

replied as I leaned toward her, "It's OK. If I can help, I would be happy to."

Erika leaned forward and broke down. "I don't know what to do. I have special desires that Masato doesn't appreciate. Am I that strange? Am I abnormal? Am I crazy?"

I quickly reacted by going over to her side and holding her and quietly telling her, "It's OK. You can talk to me about anything. I'll help if I can." Wow, perhaps my counseling background will be useful!

Erika leaned into me and said, "Oh, thank you so much. I have wanted to talk with someone about my compulsive behavior, but it has been so difficult. Masato thinks I'm crazy with obsessive-compulsive disorder and does not want to satisfy my feelings. OCD? Perhaps, but I'm not hurting anyone, am I?"

I guardedly asked, "May I ask what kind of obsession you are talking about?"

Erika quickly replied, "Well, perhaps you may have already noticed."

"What do you mean?"

She said, "I've noticed that you have been interested in my legs, especially that I'm wearing nylons everywhere. Am I right?"

"Busted!" I thought. Well, I can't deny it. "OK, you're right. I did notice that you were wearing nice nylons and seemed to enjoy wearing them all the time, even into the bathing room."

Erika replied, "So you did notice. Most people don't, you know. I just love the feeling of traditional nylon stockings that I wear them all the time--in bed, outdoors, traveling, even while bathing. I just love the smooth feeling and making myself feel extra attractive."

I said, "Really, you are beautiful and don't need to make yourself that much more attractive, if I may say so."

Erika said, "That may be so, but the special feeling of wearing nylons has become necessary for me. You could say that I'm addicted. At first, I thought Masato liked my wearing nylons, but after a year, he thought I was wearing nylons too much--if you can believe that! He even preferred plain cotton socks! I thought most men love women wearing nice nylons!"

I replied, "I don't know about other men, but I can tell you that I can't get enough of seeing beautiful women wearing nice nylons all the time--even into bed or getting soaked."

Erika brightened up. "Really? You're the first man who appreciates nylon stockings that much."

I couldn't believe my ears! I needed to get to know Erika more! Erika got up from across the low coffee table and came over to my side, sitting close next to me—as if she was preparing to confide in me without talking too loudly. I could feel her body heat next to me....

Part II – Counseling Session

Now that Erika seemed comfortable talking about her love of garters and nylon stockings—not to mention how she enjoys wearing them all the time, even while bathing—I ventured to suggest that we share our own experiences. Talking can be the best therapy—besides, I was eager to learn more about her obsession, and not just for academic reasons.

"So, Erika," I started, "when did you first begin to become attracted to nylon stockings? In American culture, many men have a fetish for garterbelts and sheer nylon stockings—as evidenced by hundreds, if not thousands, of porn Web sites devoted to garters and stockings."

In continued, "In Japan, I imagine that women are not into nylon stockings much. On the streets, women wear hose regularly, but usually low-quality pantyhose with minimal color and almost opaque—nowhere as fine quality products such as Hanes, Dior, Belle Sharmeer, and Schiaperelli 15 denier RHT stockings. Those were wonderful stockings which were really sheer, came in a variety of nice shades, and felt so smooth to the touch."

"Modern pantyhose simply cannot come close. For a guy, feeling up a woman's legs, caressing the smooth, sheer stockings, reaching the top of the welt, running fingers along the garter clip and strap up to the grand prize—the wetness of the sheer panties where the love juices are already flowing freely from the stimulation—that's heaven! Today, foreplay is not quite the same. Also, the upskirt view of women's legs as she crosses her legs, or sits with her legs slightly apart, or walking up stairs above were such a pleasure. Today, we're lucky to see up a pantyhosed leg—not much stimulation—rather boring, actually."

Erika slowly replied, "To tell you the truth, I knew nothing about stockings until I was about 20. I was shopping online at home in Tokyo for cheap pantyhose and thigh-highs when I stumbled on a website with stockings. I don't remember the website name, but it was based in the UK and specialized in fine undergarments, such as corsets, sheer panties, and garterbelts, and really fine hosiery such as 10 and 15-denier RHT and full-fashioned stockings. It was such a surprise. I never heard of such things, ever! As I viewed the many sample pictures of beautiful European women in garters and stockings, I started to feel excited and warm inside. I think it was the first time I felt sexually stimulated! At that age, out of high school, I had not even dated, at least US style. Seeing the great variety of samples made me think of the shokuhin sampuru (product samples) found in front of almost every Japanese restaurant—everything was tempting and delicious!"

"I was hooked. I spent a lot of time googling "garterbelt nylon stockings." I forget how many hours each day I spent on the Internet looking at hundreds of websites selling all sorts of beautiful lingerie and expensive stockings. My mother once told me how American soldiers gave cigarettes and nylon stockings to people in Japan after the war. Now I understood the attraction of old-style nylon stockings and why they were almost as valuable as food! I found many websites featuring gorgeous women wearing stockings in every imaginable situation: outdoors, bathing, showering, having sex, bound and gagged, etc. My favorites are Roni (ronisparadise.com in Hawaii!) and Linda (legsonshow.com in UK), among others."
"I couldn't get enough. I started subscribing to some of my favorites. I never had sex with a guy, but the websites gave me a chance for self-stimulation, if you know what I mean, without the complications of having a boy friend. At first, I had to hunt hard for sources of lingerie and nice stockings in Japan. They were so hard to find! But over a year's time, I began ordering online internationally and was able to buy a wardrobe of really sexy garterbelts, sheerest of sheer panties, and many vintage stockings and fine RHT and FF stockings from online stores. Such stores must be underground in Japan! At least they don't have "brick and mortar" stores that I have been able to find, even in Tokyo!"

"So, now I am well stocked with fine lingerie and stockings —probably much better than most young Japanese women. I have been going to various onsen towns in Japan so that I can privately enjoy wearing nylon stockings in ofuro (baths)."

"I was tempted to wear nylon stockings in sento (neighborhood public baths), but it was just too risky. First, people tend to know each other in the local public baths. Second, there is little privacy with everyone out in the open. So, the best bet are hot springs with daiyakujo (literally, "large bathing place) which vary in size and layout. The ideal is kashikiriburo (private reserved baths) where you can have a hot spring bath by yourself in a locked space."

"In fact, before this trip to Nikko, I happened to be in Kurokawa Onsen in Aso Prefecture, Kyushu. They have a number of kashikiriburo. I could do anything I wanted without worrying about other bathers. Recently, I was also at Dogo Onsen in western Shikoku. The exhibitionist side of me overcame logic and caution, so I enjoyed wearing my garterbelt, sheer panties, and Hanes RHT stockings in the public hot spring bath. It took some planning and timing, but it is possible to avoid getting "caught." So far, so good."

As I listened to Erika, I was getting really excited! She now sat next to me on the lobby sofa, so I had a nice view of her white yukata (casual kimono for use in hot springs) which was made of light cotton, almost sheer. Looking at her lap, I could easily make out white garter straps, the glint of metal garter clips, and the dark welt of her nylon stockings. Her body seemed to be getting hotter, radiating heat.

The thought of seeing Erika wearing fine lingerie and old-fashioned stockings was just too much for me to bear. My dick was already at full mast and pre-cum was dripping out. My head felt light as I imagined how beautiful Erika would look with her gorgeous finely sculpted body and legs encased in one of her fine stockings. I would just love to feel her legs in the hot spring bath. Hot spring water usually makes skin feel super smooth and slippery—like the finest of silk. I could imagine how smooth nylon stockings would feel in hot spring water. Mmmmmm. Nothing could be smoother to the touch.

"So, Erika, did you come on this trip with some fine lingerie and stockings? I believe you were wearing Hanes RHT's, perhaps Gentlebrown? I really love stockings, so I recognized the characteristic light-colored band at the top of the welt. It is very distinctive. Gentlebrown is also my favorite Hanes stocking shade. It's not quite black, but very dark, like chocolate. It is so sexy!"

"Eric, you won't be disappointed. I brought a nice stash of garterbelts, sheer panties and my nicest stockings for this trip. I really wanted to get my mind off of work, so I wanted to indulge in my wildest fantasies." I even brought along some used stockings so that I wouldn't have to worry about snagging them in the baths, some of which have little rough bottoms that can cause runs. I wouldn't want to ruin expensive stockings that way. I save my new stockings for less risky occasions, such as meals and going out."

"In fact, in case you haven't noticed, I'm wearing Hanes RHTs in Town Taupe shade. Perhaps you have noticed the reinforced heels and toes which made my stockings even sexier? I just love to show off RHT stockings in public—often wearing my stockings with slingbacks, sandals, or sliders. My favorite turn-on is going into a shoe store and trying on many kinds of shoes. It drives the young shoe salesman crazy! I make sure I'm wearing a sheer dress with a hem above the knee, no slip, and my sheerest panties. A few times, I even dared to wear a black slip dress (not white—that's too risky) to a shoe store. I'm sure the shoe salesmen who fought to serve me had an eyeful and enjoyed themselves In the backroom!

"The other thing I love to do is to ride the Tokyo subways during rush hour wearing my finest lingerie and stockings. The first thing I enjoy is being manhandled by the subway staff who cram riders into the trains. I can't count the number of times that I've had someone push me into jammed trains while pressing on my hips circled by a garterbelt. Sometimes I get pushed lower down on my hips, like thigh-level, where my stocking tops and garter belt straps are. Inside the train, I would be crammed in with a hundred riders, and inevitably, there would be some daring guy feeling me up from behind. No one would notice a roaming hand inching up my nylon-clad leg, above the stocking top, along the garter strap, and into my crotch. One hand would be stroking my buttock and feeling up my garterbelt and stockings, while the other would be stroking my pussy—first through my filmy panties, then into my cunt, stroking back and forth, stimulating my juices which dribbled down my stockinged legs." This became a daily high both to and from work on the crowded subway—an addiction that I could not deny."

"Wildest fantasies?" I could only begin to imagine what she was like, but it was a great start to learn about her obsessive- compulsive love of lingerie and stockings and how she finds excitement in risky, exhibitionist situations, as well as getting wet and messy. And she has fine taste as well—much more so than most American women, but perhaps like many European women. For sure, she was an unusual Japanese woman, and I couldn't believe my luck in meeting her by sheer (no pun intended) chance. "What's my next move," I thought?



Part III – The Next Move

We had been sitting in the lounge area for almost an hour now. Erika's warm body felt so nice as she leaned on me while confiding with me about her obsession with garters and stockings. Perhaps, I thought, she would like to retire to one of our rooms for further relaxation.

"Erika," I ventured, "how would you like to come to my room so we can continue talking? Or, your room would be OK, also."

Erika replied, "Let's go to my room. I want to show you some things." With that, I practically jumped up out of the seat. I held out my hands to help her up. I wrapped my arm around her waist as we walked down the wooden floored hallway to her room.

Shedding our slippers inside her doorway, we entered her Japanese-style room with sliding shoji doors and tatami flooring. Turning toward me, Erika slipped off her obi from around her waist and opened her yukata. My God! She was stunning with white garterbelt and bra, sheer white panties, and dark RHT stockings!

"Eric, this is what I enjoy wearing every chance I get. Trouble is, Masato does not appreciate any of this. You are the first person to truly appreciate how sensuous lingerie and stockings can be."

With that, she let her yukata fall to the tatami floor and stepped toward me. I met her halfway and embraced her wholeheartedly. My hands slowly slid down from the small of her back to her ass and caressed the sheer material of her panties. My quickly rising dick was already planted in her crotch and ready to burst. I slowly thrust my dick back and forth as my hands slid down her garter straps to the stocking tops.

Erika moaned as she moved her hips in rhythm with mine. My yukata had opened in front and my dick was directly sliding along her dripping cunt through the sheer nylon panties. I went down on my knees and stuck my tongue into the crack while moving her panties to one side. My hands were now stroking the back of her sheer stocking-covered legs all the way to her heels. Erika trembled as she moaned in ecstacy.

"Wait a moment," Erika uttered. "Let's go back into the private furo, if you don't mind."

"Certainly," I replied, "let's go." She covered up her front with the yukata, but didn't bother to secure the obi around her slender waist. I did the same with my yukata as we stepped back into the hallway and proceeded to the furo. Not having bothered to wear slippers, her nylon covered feet slid along the smooth wooden floor with a soft, whispering sound. Arriving at the private furo, we locked the door behind us and prepared to shower before entering the hot water. We both removed our yukata and hung them up. Erika was just gorgeous. Her sheer bras showed her dark nipples and her transparent white panties revealed her black cunt hair and white garterbelt underneath. The white garter straps led my eyes down to her dark stockings.

I first filled the small pan with hot water and poured it over Erika. What little opacity there was quickly disappeared as her bra and panties became instantly transparent. Her stockings darkened even more, especially the reinforced toes and heels. I repeated pouring hot water over her, then shampooed her hair, then soaped her down from head to toe, carefully stroking every inch of her slender body. Rubbing the soapy lather over her panties and stockings was especially erotic—so smooth to the touch. Stroking her silky stockings from stocking tops to heels and toes was a wet dream come true. I then rinsed her off with the shower head.

Erika reciprocated by giving me a shampoo and washing. Her lovingly gentle stroking was driving me mad, especially as she washed my dick and stroked the soapy lather up and down, cleaning every inch of engorgement. After rinsing me completely, we were ready to soak ourselves in the heated furo water, about 42 degrees C, about 114 degrees F.

The hot spring water—not merely heated water—made our skins silky smooth. We lay in the water with Erika's stocking-clad legs across mine. The feel of her wet stockings was enhanced by the onsen water which further increased the soft, slippery feel of her nylons. My dick was standing at full mast, with the head touching her stockings. Any more stimulation, and I would probably shoot a load.

After soaking together for about 5-10 minutes—about as much as we could endure—we stepped over to the cold water bath and jumped in to cool off our superheated bodies. Our bodies tingled with the jolt of cold water—a difference of about 50 degrees F.

After a couple of cycles, we went into a Swedish style sauna. After a few minutes, we were totally drenched with sweat from head to toe. The glistening beads of moisture ran down Erika's body and down her legs adorned by water-darkened nylons. Water dripped off her RHT covered toes. I reached over and stroked her nylon-covered pussy, then inserted my hand under the edge to insert my middle finger into her slit. She needed no lubrication as her cunt juices were practically flowing out. My finger entered silently without effort. As I plunged in and out, Erika tilted her head back, her sleek black hair draping down her sweat-drenched back. She was already in ecstacy, but ready for my swelling dick to bring her to climax.

Dizzy from the unbearable heat in the sauna, we stepped out and rinsed off with cold water. For the moment, our passions subsided and we decided to dry off and return to her room. It was only 8 pm, so we had the night ahead of us.

(to be continued)
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