Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Erotica - Ice

Sitting at the bar with my Sir a delicious cherry vodka over ice is ordered up. When it arrives, he instructs me to drain the glass quickly leaving only the ice and cherries. I do as I’m told the alcohol rushing into my system as the cool liquid slides down my throat.

As the glass begins to empty he dips his fingers in and scoops out some pieces of the vodka flavored ice. Leaning in close to me, he whispers in my ear, “are you wearing panties, lil one?” I shake my head no, my eyes watching the ice melting in his fingertips.

He slides the ice up the inside of my thigh, gently forcing my legs apart. The ice is melted before his hand reaches it’s destination. He slides his fingers, cool with the water, over the outside lips of my pussy. A moan escapes my throat as we catch the attention of the man sitting next to me. My Sir makes eye contact with him but does not stop his exploration.

He dips his fingers into my glass again and takes the ice pieces he collects directly to my pussy, not allowing the heat of skin to melt them again. Without hesitation he buries the ice inside the heated walls of my pussy. I try hard to maintain control but the cold of the ice and the gentle sting of the alcohol is a shock and my back arches, my eyes close, my mouth opens in desire and a shiver passes through me.

He repeatedly stuffs the ice pieces inside of me, each time thrusting his fingers inside, moving the cool frozen liquid against the walls, his thumb finds the tight bud of my clit and slides teasingly over it. After several pieces of ice have been stuffed inside of me, when I think I can take no more, he directs me to sit on my hands and hook my feet around my barstool, leaving my legs open and my hands useless.

He stands up next to me blocking me from site of anyone else in the bar except for the gentleman sitting next to us. Sir slides his fingers deep into my cunt without warning or preamble. When I buck against his hands, he entangles his free hand in my hair and whispers harshly into my ear, “sit still, slut.” I try hard to do as I’m told but his fingers are thrusting in and out of me, the cool water from the melting ice cubes mingling with the heat he is creating in my cunt and I feel the combined juices flowing down my leg.

He kisses me on the mouth, catching my moans on his tongue and swallowing my lust. I know not to cum without permission and I feel the orgasm on the edge. Please I whisper against his mouth. Please Sir can I come? He nips at my neck, working his way up to my ear all the while working my pussy over with his fingers.

Biting my earlobe hard enough to make me cry out, he pulls my hair and growls into my ear, “yes, you dirty little whore — cum for me, now.” I feel the immediate crest of my orgasm with his next thrust, my hips meeting his fingers, the water gushing out of my cunt onto the floor.

He won’t stop with just one, he isn’t satisfied until he has racked my body with several more orgasms, until I’m begging him to stop. Only then does he let up, his fierce strokes becoming gentle as his hold on my hair loosens and his kisses sweeten.

Leaving me breathless and shaking, wrecked with pleasure, limp against his solid presence, he looks up to see the man watching in fascination. Sir smiles at me, gently petting my hair, his arms tight around me supporting me and waiting for my body to settle. He smiles at the gentleman sitting next to us and says, “What are you drinking, friend? You look like you could use another.”

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