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After I have made you come, when my cock is aching from being hard for so long and the only sensation it has known is against your calf while I was licking you … move over a bit, and let me lie on my back. The dim light from the window casts a shadow up my body, across my chest as if I were growing even longer and thicker.


The sun was enough today, beating down, radiating from every surface that would reflect it — but you add the humidity, and walking up the street to my house was like wading through recently-boiled water. I felt the air rippling around me as I climbed the steps to our door. By the time I was turning the knob, I was sweating so hard I couldn’t grasp it. My fingers slipped on the brass until I wiped them on my soaked-through shirt.

The air in the hallway was aggressively sultry and close, as if it were forcing itself down my throat. If anything, I was sweating more inside the house than out. I came into the living room, where the ceiling fan was rocking precariously as it spun, and found a note scotch-taped to the television. It read, “The air conditioner is broken. I’m in the bedroom.”

I peeked into the bedroom; the curtains were closed in the window that faced the afternoon sun and three fans were running, all pointed at the bed. And there you were, laying on your stomach, face against the pillow and your soft hair stirring in the breezes. Oh, the glow of your skin, the slight sheen of moisture in the shadowed sunlight, the shades of coral and tan and purest porcelain white blending across your body. The way a drop of sweat trickled down your back as your ribcage lifted and fell. The way your curves shifted as you slept, almost imperceptibly, like sand dunes being transformed by the wind.

Quietly, I took off my clothing and stood there in front of a fan. I was still dripping from outside and the hallway; I used my shirt to absorb most of it before dropping it to the floor, but my hair was still soaked at the ends, down my back and across my shoulders. Stray drops fell against my skin as I put my face directly into the fan’s path and shook my head.

I watched you some more, and I couldn’t help but start to touch myself. The breeze dried the sweat between my thighs as I turned, stroking my cock slowly, deliberately. I used two fingers and a thumb to move up and down the shaft, şirinevler türbanlı escort keeping my wrist loose enough to recoil a bit at the end. I got harder and felt the drops breaking out on my forehead and chest again as my hand moved faster. I almost came that way, watching you and breathing heavily; I almost let it happen, close enough that I was dripping on the carpet. But I wanted far more than that.

Carefully, I slid into the bed beside you. I could already feel the additional warmth of your body in the bed; I could smell your sweat in the sheets. I rolled on my side, watching you, and my cock was within a centimeter of rubbing against the rise of your ass. It took so much restraint to not straddle you and slide it between your legs just then … but instead, I took the palm of my hand and slid it down your shoulder blades to your waist and down your hips, gliding smoothly across the sheen of your skin. This woke you up enough that you turned your head to look at me. Sleepily, you mumbled, “Too hot,” and took my hand in yours, pulling it close but keeping it from caressing you.

“Yes, lover, I know. Let me get something to cool you off.” And I got up, walking out of the room. Face back to the pillow, you were almost asleep when I returned.

You heard my voice, low and deep, over the rush of the fans. “Do you want something cold, beautiful one?” Then you felt the bed shift beneath my weight.

Kneeling on the bed above you, I unwrapped the orange popsicle and held it by its wooden stick. Of course, you didn’t know yet what it was; you only knew that something was slowly dripping on your back; you could tell even half-asleep that it was a little too syrupy to be water or an ice cube, and yet it was cold enough to make you catch your breath. I used my finger to swirl the drops across your back, and bent down to lick them up even as more dripped down from above.

You looked up, and I showed you the melting length of the ice pop. I licked my lips. “Delicious,” I crooned, and added, “roll over.”

As you did, I tried to keep up with the drops trickling down, but my fingers were already getting sticky. I dripped a little on the sheet before you settled, sitting up a little against

the pillow. Your breasts were shining with moisture. You were so beautiful.

I şirinevler ucuz escort teased you a little bit, swirling my tongue against the popsicle, letting it drip once or

twice on your stomach, threatening to slide it right between your thighs (you yelped at that one) … but finally, I brought it to your waiting lips.

The way you sucked at it made me even harder. You were awake now, and I could see the gleam in your eyes. I asked, grinning, “Still too hot?” and you licked the whole way down to my fingers, cleaning them off. You sucked the pop in and out of your mouth one more time and sat up to kiss me hard. Your tongue was cold against mine, and the sugary

orange taste filled both our mouths. Then you pulled back and murmured wetly, “Keep going.”

I moved the icy treat down, tracing a line to your collarbone, making you shiver and giggle. Continuing to move it, I used it as a pointer, saying, “And here is your right shoulder, and here is your left ….” I drew two orange lines down toward your breasts, then licked them off. You arched your back, and as I moved toward your nipples they stiffened at the idea of the cold before they even felt it. You could only stand to have it circle around them a couple of times before you were shrieking, “Move it, move it!”

As I let the popsicle paint the undersides of your breasts, I warmed your nipples back up by plunging each between my lips and deep into my mouth. I sucked at you until you were moaning, and there were rivulets of sugary cold down to my wrist. It was beginning to melt more quickly, and you were beginning to respond more and more. I slid my free

hand between your thighs to see how wet you were, and those fingers were soaked almost as fast.

I knelt between your spread thighs, and used the ice pop as a pen to write “SEXY” across your stomach. I then erased the letters with my tongue — and felt the muscles there, and lower down, flexing over and over again. I let the hand that is already at your pussy move up so I can stroke your clit.

Then I pull both hands away from you for a moment, and look up at you. Your face is flushed, you are sweating and your breasts are heaving and dripping with sweat. I grin, and you manage to get out, “Don’t you dare stop!”

“Don’t worry. There’s şişli escort no way I’m stopping now.” —

— and I slide the half-melted treat up your right thigh. I can feel you begin to twitch as the skin is more and more sensitive, as I move higher; particularly since I am following the path with my tongue a moment after. You can feel the chill almost at your pussy, and you are clutching at the sheets with one hand, stroking your clit with the other, wondering what I will do, begging me to do it, not to do it, to touch you and make you come … and I move to the other thigh and repeat. You arch your back, lifting up from the bed. The cold comes closer and closer …

And again, I pull it back just in time. You moan, half in disappointment. Then I slide it in one long shuddering stroke from your asshole up across your entire pussy and directly against your clit. You shriek. I work it there, teasing up your pussy again, dipping it a bit inside (not far, though, it is beginning to fall off the stick) and back out, while you buck and squeal and growl through your teeth, while your muscles contract, while my

tongue moves across you as well, and now the popsicle has fallen off the stick and I have the remnants in my mouth, and I am kissing your cunt sliding my tongue and that ice inside you licking you until you shake and then back up to your clit squeezing the last melting bits under the hood until you can’t take it any more and your whole body is going crazy and I can barely hold on for the ride still licking you, my fingers inside

fucking you now and you manage to get out, “Fuck me!” —


And my cock is so hard it’s been dripping across your calf while I licked you —


And in one long stroke I push in and it is cold but then so hot so welcoming and wet and I fuck you hard and fast kissing you deep and our bodies thrash together flinging sweat from us like dogs shaking ourselves, and every time I slide deeper into you you convulse harder and kiss harder and I come closer and all at once you are coming, going crazy around my cock, squeezing it so tight as you scream and dig your nails into my shoulders and pull me in and I let myself go and thrust harder and faster and it is rising inside me and then I go, spurt like a garden hose so deep inside you and you can feel it and you let it add to your frenzy and keep coming …

And when it is over, and we both lie there letting the fans do their best to cool us off, and we kiss gently and giggle at the orange stains on the bedspread, even then at utter rest, with the heat and the humidity and the recent exertion — even then we cannot stop ourselves from dripping.

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