It Started With Ice

They’d gotten to their hotel around 4pm; the cab from the airport had taken a nice scenic route through the garden district into the narrow streets of the French Quarter. Michael and Val stared out the windows of the cab at the centuries old buildings as they zig-zagged through the one-way streets. They had made comments on the history of the city and how they couldn’t wait to explore it. And after about half an hour, the cab had dropped them off in front of the St. Marie Antoinette Hotel, the driver even hopping out of his seat to take their suitcases from the trunk. He’d asked if they wanted him to carry them inside and Val said no, that they could handle it. Michael pulled out his wallet and paid the cabby the full price of the fair and a five on top of that as a tip. Then they’d gone inside.

The two friends settled into their room; when they’d made the reservations, they’d decided that it would be cheaper (and thus saving them more money to spend on shopping and food) to reserve one room and one bed. They weren’t here necessarily to look for love or sex. They just wanted to explore the city. It had been years since Val had been here and Michael hadn’t, but then he had only moved to the US a year ago from the UK. They’d been friends for years and didn’t see anything wrong with sharing a bed. So, once they got their bags in place, called for extra towels, checked out the room and rested a bit, they both changed for dinner. It was a warm enough evening that Val had ditched her shorts and tank top and slipped into a light cotton summer dress, sleeveless, made from a deep orange material with white flowers on it. The colors complimented her olive-complexion and shoulder-length golden brown hair, which she’d pulled up on the sides, leaving the rest to brush against her sun-freckled shoulders. Michael changed from his travel clothes into a nice pair of tight, faded blue jeans and a navy blue T-shirt, the sleeves rolled up a couple of notches, exposing his lightly muscled arms. He wasn’t as much of a sun-body as Val was, so his skin retained its natural peaches and cream tone.

And off they went. They wandered a few blocks, trying to decide on what food tempted them the most. There were the very obvious tourist traps named for television show chefs, which they avoided and moved on to seek out something a little less well-known. Finally, they’d stumbled on a restaurant in a corner building, which was named for someone who’d been in the slave-trade business. It hadn’t been in any of the brochures they’d read up on and in some ways that made the place all-the-more tempting because it shouldn’t be full of whiny tourists. Michael held open the door for Val, placing a hand on her trim waist as she walked in ahead of him. They were greeted by delicious aromas and a smiling maitre-d who quickly guided them to a table near the window; the place was packed all right, and it seemed like they weren’t the only two visitors to New Orleans, but the crowd seemed a little more subdued. Active in their conversations, but toned-down on the qualities that made a person an obvious, and quite often obnoxious, tourist. After the maitre-d left them with menus and walked away, a young waiter approached them and offered to show them a wine list. Val ordered a glass of Chardonnay and Michael ordered beer and the young man hurried away to get their drinks and give them time to order. One he returned, both were ready to order and they did so, giving up their menus.

An hour later, full from their meals, Val having ordered the fried shrimp and Michael having chosen a spicy, blackened chicken, the two friends paid their check and left the restaurant. They wandered back into the main streets of the French Quarter, exploring the shops that were still open and listening to the different street musicians scattered to the different corners with their hats or open instrument cases left out, inviting money to fall into them. Several times, Val and Michael would both say, “Let’s go in there,” at the same time, usually referring to two different stores. They’d laugh and then take the time to check out both. They were going to be here a week, so they had plenty of time to shop and spend money. They did find a small liquor store, which they went in and bought a few bottles of alcohol to keep in their hotel room for the late nights once they’d returned for the evening.

“You want to check out Bourbon Street tonight?” Michael asked casually. They’d discussed spending an evening bar-hopping on that famous street, more than likely spending more time in the gay bars than anything. But Val was starting to feel a little sleepy; the muggy weather wasn’t helping and she felt a light sheen of sweat on her brow and arms and across her shoulders. She even felt it on her thighs and was ready to get back to the air-conditioning and a nice hot shower.

“Naw, not tonight. I think I’m ready to take our stuff and go back to the room. Unwind a little and maybe watch a little t.v.” She walked close to Michael and wasn’t looking up at him when she spoke. She didn’t see the relieved look on his face, mixed with something else. Interest? They returned to the Marie Antoinette and their room, putting out the Do Not Disturb sign just because they could.

“You want the shower first?” Val asked, watching as Michael started to pour himself a rum and Coke. He looked up at her, his coffee eyes peaking out from a lock of his shaggy dark brown hair.

“Sure,” he answered as he finished making the drink. He licked a bit of rum off of the skin between his left thumb and forefinger then picked up the cup, the ice inside tapping against the plastic. It was one of the hotel cups, the typical plastic tumblers that came wrapped in plastic and sat on the small tray beside the marble-looking ice bucket. Val was walking toward the make-shift bar herself as Michael passed her, walking into the bathroom with a pair of cotton knit pj bottoms slung over his right shoulder, his drink still in hand. As they passed each other, their arms brushed and neither noticed the other one shudder slightly at the touch. Val listened to the bathroom door close and the shower starting.

She walked over to the window that looked out onto Bourbon Street. It wasn’t very late yet. Probably about 10pm, but the street was already crowded with people wandering from place to place. Even through the closed window, their drunk and happy voices carried up to her on the fourth floor and she smiled to watch them for a while. At one point, one of the partying men down below looked up and saw her standing there at the window, and he waved up to her. He pointed Val out to his buddies and they all waved. She smiled and offered a return gesture, figuring that they wouldn't even remember her in the morning.

Val finally stepped away from the window and plopped sat down on the edge of the bed. She reached for the remote and turned on the television. Flipping past all the local news channels, she quickly found one of the movie channels and the regular sex documentary show that aired new episodes once a week on Saturdays.

“Great,” she told herself, thinking about how she loved this show but almost always got turned on by the topics. This was not the time or place to get herself worked up into a lustful frenzy. And yet, instead of changing the channel, Val left it there, watching the segment on sex toys and masturbation. It was hypnotic and she felt herself growing wet beneath her dress. She was particularly taken by a couple playing together with a cock-shaped vibrator, and her mind began to wander, giving her images of someone and herself using the same toy. Val allowed her thoughts to take off, building in intensity and when the dream-Val looked up into the eyes of her lover, she found herself staring into Michael’s eyes. And he was smiling down at her, his hand, moving the vibrator in and out of her wetness. Val jumped out of her thoughts with surprise, to find her hand clutching her dress and pulling it up toward her waist, her other hand moving toward her now-sopping underwear. She was about to continue with her self-exploration when she heard the water in the bathroom stop. Listening a little closer, she heard the curtain pulling back across the metal rod and she knew that her friend would be out here soon.

Quickly, Val jumped up from the bed; she saw that the show was still on and she switched channels till she found another movie channel that was playing some harmless and silly romantic comedy that she’d seen thousands of times before. Dropping the remote on the bed, she walked over to the dresser where they’d set their alcohol and the ice bucket and cups next to the t.v. She poured herself a quick gin and tonic, just barely having the time to squeeze a couple of drops of lime juice into the plastic cup before the bathroom door opened and Michael walked out. She looked up at him, hoping to appear normal and she noticed that the upper portion of his body was still a little wet from the water that dripped from his hair. The rest of him was dressed in his pajama bottoms and he was still towel drying his hair while he walked further toward the bed. He carried his cup, now emptied, in his other hand and walked over to where Val stood with her drink in hand. She’d already drunk down part of it, trying to cool herself off from her previous fantasizing and Michael stopped beside her to fix himself another drink.

“You look flushed,” he told her. “Is it too warm in here?” He fixed another drink and then walked toward the air conditioner unit in the corner by the window, intent on adjusting the temperature.

“Hmm? Oh. No. Actually, I’m comfortable,” she replied with a smile. She added a little more gin and tonic to her glass and then started toward the bathroom. “Hotel rooms are usually too cold for me, so this is actually fine. Unless you want it colder. Of course, then you’re going to have to deal with me stealing all the blankets in the night.” She grinned at him and winked as she grabbed up a sleeping T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear. There was no way she could stay in the ones she was wearing now.

Michael moved away from the a/c unit and back to his drink. He watched her disappear into the bathroom and then sat down on the bed. Now he flipped through the channels, finding one that actually listed all the channels available on the hotel t.v. and what was playing on them. As he sucked on a piece of rum-soaked ice, he found a listing of channels that caught his attention. Glancing up toward the bathroom and seeing that the door was definitely closed, he waited for the right moment. After he heard the shower start up again, knowing that Val would be in there for a while, since she liked long hot showers, Michael programmed one of the Pay-Per-View channels that advertised that it showed adult movies. A screen on the t.v. asked for a credit card number, and he gladly supplied one of his, knowing that this could end up costing him a fortune. But he was too curious (and horny) for his own good, so he figured it was worth it.

There was actually a movie in progress on the channel he picked. Of course, from the way it had been listed, this was one of those movies that actually had three or four segments with unrelated stories to it. Ones with no real plot, just ones with a story-like beginning to them only to get them to the gratuitous sex that people interested in porn were more interested in seeing. Michael, of course, being one of the people who didn’t always need a storyline to precede his porn, was glad to see that the introductions of the characters, a saleswoman at a department store and a man wanting to try on jeans, wasn’t going to take forever. Just as he stepped into the dressing room, the saleswoman poked her head in to see if he needed any help. And then it just got better from there.

As Michael watched the woman expertly giving the guy, now only wearing red speedo-type underwear around his ankles, a blow job, he found himself getting extremely aroused. “Shit,” he thought at first, worried about how this was going to look when his friend came out of the bathroom. But he heard the water continue, so he figured he had at least enough time to finish this scenario and maybe get himself off at the same time before he’d be interrupted. Michael set his drink on the nightstand on his side of the king-sized bed, wiping the cold condensation off on the bedspread. He was sliding his hand down the front of his pants just as the water shut off; however, he was too distracted by what was going on in the movie to notice the lack of running water. Grabbing his dick in his hands, he stroked himself once or twice, picturing himself as the guy in the movie. He started to close his eyes and as he imagined the saleswoman’s mouth wrapped around him, he realized that it was Val giving him the blow job.

About that time, he heard the bathroom door opening and Michael quickly pulled his hand out of his pants and grabbed one of the pillows to set in his lap. Trying to lean back casually against the other pillow, he watched his best friend walk out of the bathroom, wearing a white Hanes T-shirt that came down on her to about mid-calf, and she was towel drying her hair. He assumed she was wearing something under the shirt to cover her ass, but he couldn’t see and he wasn’t going to ask.

“Michael, what are you watching?” she asked as she stepped over to the bed and sat down on it. She set her cup, now just full of ice, on her nightstand and then finished trying to dry her hair. Her eyes met with the movie he was watching and then they cut over to him, staring in shock.

“I...uh...was just curious. I saw this listed on the pay channel and I wanted to check it out. I couldn’t believe that a person could really watch porn in a nice hotel room like this, so I had to check it out.” Michael thought the explanation was lame, but he didn’t know what else to tell her. This was his best friend. They were here as friends and neither of them had planned on finding anyone here in the city to fuck during their stay. So, what the hell was he doing getting himself all worked up?

“Okay. Cool,” Val started, tossing her towel onto the chair by her side of the bed. She sat her pillows up against the headboard and then leaned against them, bringing her knees up against her chest. “Let’s keep watching it then,” she added, much to Michael’s stunned expression. “What? I mean, you’re paying for it. Might as well finish watching it. They’re going to charge you full price whether you shut it off now or at the end of the movie.” She turned her attention to the television screen, watching her friend out of the corners of her deep cinnamon eyes.

Finally, Michael set his other pillow in front of the other and leaned back against them again, trying to remain calm. About halfway through the saleswoman getting a face-full of cum, a reward for her skillful blow job, the reality of him sitting here and watching porn with his best friend who happened to be female dawned on him. The fact that she was willing to sit here with him and watch this stuff shocked Michael at first. And then it begun to do something else. Just when he thought he couldn’t get turned on again, he started to feel a stirring in his crotch. He glanced over at Val, watching her shift her legs, making the T-shirt hike up almost to her hips. He could see that she was wearing a pair of white silk bikini panties from the leg band that flashed him before she curled her leg and the T-shirt covered them once again. He felt mesmerized by the sight of his friend’s bare skin, smooth and clean from her shower. Even though they were on a king-sized bed, they were sitting close to each other and he could feel the heat radiating from her body to heat up his own. His pajama bottoms were getting tight and uncomfortable, but he dare not get up to change.

Finally, he turned his eyes back to the movie, just in time to see the saleswoman, now only wearing her bra getting bent over the dressing room’s bench by the man, whose underwear mingled with the other discarded clothes on the floor. His breath caught as he watched the guy thrust into the woman’s wide-open cunt, and at the same time, he heard Val gasp as well. He dared another look at his friend to see that she was sitting there, her hands clutching the bottom of her T-shirt so that it pulled down over her body, showing off the curves of her small round breasts. Michael tried to turn away when he noticed that her nipples were hard and poking through the cotton, and he could see the darker caramel ring surrounding them, contrasting against the white of the shirt.

Dammit, he thought and looked back at the television. The saleswoman was moaning and panting as the guy fucked her from behind. The camera angles were typical porn because they were showing up close and personal of his in and out thrusts. Michael thought about grabbing his pillow again but was too caught up in the movie to bother with it.

Val couldn’t believe she was casually sitting here with her friend, watching this. She thought she’d gotten herself calmed down while she was in the shower. Of course, she hadn’t counted on coming out to find Michael watching porn either. But this wasn’t so bad. She could handle it. Reaching over to her right, her hand found her cup of slightly melted ice. She drank down some of the lime flavored water and then plucked out a piece of the ice and sucked on it, trying to cool herself down. Val wiped her cold, wet hand across her forehead, hoping that that would help, but of course, it didn’t. Then she had a wicked idea. She pulled another piece of ice out of the cup, a nice big one that would take a while to melt and she held it for a minute in her left hand while she placed her cup back on the nightstand. Then casually, glancing out of the corner of her eye again at Michael, she made sure he wasn’t looking at her. When she saw that his attention was completely on the movie, she reached over and pressed the ice against his right nipple. She laughed as he jumped almost a n inch off the bed, swearing and freaking out when the coldness toughed his bare skin. As he jumped up, he bumped against her hand and she dropped the piece of ice; she thought it was going to fall onto the bed, but instead, it did the worst possible thing it could do.

It slid down the front of his pants.

Michael yelped as the ice dropped on him, sliding along his dick and finding its way to his balls. The more he jumped, the more his pajama bottoms pushed the ice against him more. He couldn’t believe she did this. When he looked at her, she was trying to stifle a giggle by holding her hand up to her mouth. It’s not like he’d be angry with her for this; they’d picked on each other before. But shit. Not like this. Not while they were watching...not that they’d ever watched porn together. Finally, Val couldn’t hold it in any longer. She started to laugh out loud, watching her friend move around until the almost completely melted piece of ice fell down one of his pant legs to the floor.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” he asked, trying to sound menacing. He smiled sadistically at her and reached into his own cup to grab a piece of ice. He found one that rivaled the one she’d pressed against him and he climbed back on the bed, moving toward her on his knees. Val yelped and started to move across the bed to get away from him. But Michael was too fast. He reached out and caught a hold of her T-shirt and pulled her over onto the bed. Val rolled over on her back, kicking her legs out and trying to pull away from her friend. But he had other things in mind and he wasn’t going to let go of her.

“You want to play?” he asked in a tone that wasn’t really asking. He placed himself beside her, but one of his legs trapped her right leg where it couldn’t kick anymore. His left hand grabbed a hold of both her wrists easily enough and he held her arms over her head as he leaned down close to her. Her T-shirt had ridden up over her waist, fully exposing her silk underwear. Michael appraised the sight before him; he could make out the trimmed thatch of golden brown hair through the thin white material. He grinned wickedly and brought the piece of ice down against the bared skin of her stomach.