A distraction from the day.

I'm thinking about you laying you on your belly, trying to relax in this unseasonable heat. I'd come into the room to find you on the bed, topless and in a pair of jeans with you mumbling something at the sound of my footsteps as I sit beside you on the bed, a single cube of ice on my hand. I'd start at the small of your back, the cold bringing out a trail of goosebumps as I trace a path across your skin, in circles first before moving lower, to the hem of your pants and across the waistline. Down to your side and up towards your ribs, then back down, across, and up the other. Back to your spine and up to the shoulders, bringing the shiver up to your head bit by bit. The ice melting against your hot skin as I reach your neck, moving to the outside, behind the ear, before curving all the way back down and under your shoulder, almost along the side to your breast, then back up, to the other ear and back down, under the other shoulder before discarding the cube and watching your body shudder with the sensation.

My hands and fingers would be next, sliding along the skin where the ice just was, but they dip further, stretching to touch more of you, gliding under your pants, along the top of your butt before withdrawing. They'd move in tandem, as I lean over you, wrapping around your hips as my fingers seek out the hollow of your hip on either side, and gipping your pelvis firmly before they drift away and run my palms up your spine. I'd move them up to your neck, one hand on either side, teasing behind your ears again before they both press firmly on either side and my fingers curl around to your throat, feeling your muscles twitch as you gasp. Lingering just long enough to feel your heart beat and then retreating down and under your shoulders, reaching on either side to the outermost edges your breasts.

A long trail of kisses down your back now, slowly warming the skin with my breath, my hands pulling back down your sides as I shift my body weight further down the bed. My tongue tracing the edge of your pants, on the small of your back as my fingers catch the fabric, and I pull ever further down. I can imagine you pulling your knees under you to give me space to slide them down, just to your knees, taking your panties with them. I'd shift behind you now, placing a knee on your pants, pinning them the mattress at your knees and using my body weight to keep you from sliding your legs back to rest. My hands going back to your legs, sliding together in the narrow space between your thighs, tracing the muscle under your butt and around to your hips, seeking the hollows of your pelvis once again to grip and gently guide your body.

I'd pull your hips back, leaving your chest to the mattress, and kiss my way up the banks of your thighs. Up one to the cleft of your butt, then up the other, slowly pulling you to me as my lips and lightly grazing tongue move closer and closer to more sensitive areas. By pulling you far enough back that you can't hide yourself anymore, I'll bring your sex to light so my tongue can trace a trail towards it, treating both sides with equal care so I can savor the taste of your flesh and the scent of your arousal, bringing my tongue to the delicate folds, tracing lines along the edges, teasing my tongue up the side, just along the rim and back down, flicking across your clit, the flat of my tongue spreading across you as I lap at your slick folds, dragging it up to the source and plunging myself in you to pull out more of your sweet juices. I would take my time and drink you, holding you steady, pulling it out of you bit by bit, and when I am satisfied, I would trace around the edges of your folds once again, this time ending back up at the bridge between your holes, pausing only to hear if you object the flirting touch as I dance around the sensitive flesh.

Finally, I would bring myself to your tender hole and tease the rim, pushing my way into you again, tasting your tender flesh. The only sounds in the room are the ones you make as I pry you open with my tongue, the sensation amplified by bringing a hand around to your clit and lightly thumbing your nub, running the digit in circles to match the pace of my tongue, working you until your moans are filling the air, pushing you to the edge and well over it before I finally relent and let you slump back onto the bed.

While you recover I would pull off my own pants and lay my body atop yours, letting you feel the weight of me over you, the weight of me between your legs, and letting your need push your ass back against me as best you can, while I position myself to push inside you. That first stroke tortuously slow into your warm body, inch by inch as we savor the sensation. Only after I've nestled into you to the hilt would I stop. I would want to feel you contracting then, feel the involuntary clenching of your pussy around me before I continue, to enjoy this first few moments before pulling back and rocking into you. I would keep my movements measured and steady, pulling you from the final glow of that first orgasm into the buildup of the next, listening to the way you moan and gasp to determine which angles or pace is bringing you the most pleasure.

I would push you further, constantly, towards that next precipice, bringing you again to the edge so I can hear you moaning, this time feeling you tighten up around me. As you shudder through the last of it, I'd hold deep inside you, pressing down on you, pushing you into the mattress, waiting for you to catch your breath before I begin again, this time more fervently. Now my pace would be much quicker, more forceful, the collisions of our bodies adding their own sound to the room. I would be the one in need, the one creeping towards the edge, the sights and sounds of the day fresh in my head, the feeling of your shaking body consuming my senses as I bring myself over the brink inside of you, filling you as I drive myself inside you one last time.

All in all, I cannot say it would do much for dispelling the warmth in the air, but a good distraction is often as effective as fixing the problem and as we lay there in the afternoon glow, I know we would both be far from worrying about the weather.