Wood and Ice

He leaned back in his seat, wood creaking softly to accommodate his posture. The air fell to still silence once more, as he gazed across the dimly-lit room towards his quarry. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow, and irregular breaths, betraying the serene calm on her face. Long shadows cast by the bedside lamp served to outline her jaw, revealing a subtle momentary clenching and relaxing. Nervous, but fighting not to show it.

He picked up his drink. Ice clinked in the glass. Cold condensation pooled in his palm, and overflowed in a drop that hit his thigh. Even through the fabric of his pants, he could feel the short, sharp sting of sudden cold. An idea.

He stood, wood creaking again, this time accompanied by her breath catching mid-inhale, followed by a long pursed-lip exhale, and the slightest expectant tremble in her hands. Hands, which were secured to bed-posts on either side, leaving the soft skin of her underarms and flanks vulnerable, un-protected. Hands, which she now used in white-knuckled grasps at each feet, also secured to the same posts, in a valiant attempt to terminate the tell-tale tremor. The position left her legs splayed rudely open, and her, available to his whims.

He approached, footfalls silenced by carpet, but evident to her by the gentle clinking sounds that drew slowly closer. Her breath quickened, and the delectable undulating movements of her breasts complied in a seductive rhythm. Breasts that were supporting, at each summit, nipples that stood stubbornly, triumphantly erect. Her head too turned to face him with a defiant and regal up-tilt of her chin, wholly incongruent with her predicament. It was almost as if she could see him through the narrow band of black fabric that obscured her vision, in a stare to challenge his deliberate stalk towards her. A wordless dare to match his unspoken threats.

He stood over her now. Admiring. Anticipating. From this distance, he could smell the warm notes of perfume wafting off of her bare skin, which mixed with the smoky bitterness of the drink in his hand to create a fragrance that he associated with sex. A fragrance he could almost taste. He felt the ache of longing desire well up from deep within, threatening to spill out into an unrestrained merciless ravaging of the un-spoilt beauty before him. With restraint, he slowly unzipped his pants, un-restraining the phallic result of his swollen lust. The soft clacking sounds of the metal teeth as they parted registered in her mind, as she parted her own to bite down on her lower lip in reflex.

She felt the mattress beneath her shift as he clambered aboard, the only captain she could trust to un-moor her from safe harbour. She did not expect to feel the pleasure of his cock so soon. Then again, she did not know what to expect, except that he had promised both pleasure and pain. She listened intently to aural clues as she had all evening, her heart thundering in her chest, spurred on by excitement and apprehension in equal measure. Then she felt it. A sharp sting at her left cheek that caused her to gasp in surprise, her mind racing for a cause. In the second before it came to her, she felt the sudden thrust as he entered her without warning. Sudden, but not unwelcome. Uncharacteristically, he entered and stayed, motionless. Her excitement floundered in confounded disappointment, the desire to be fucked lingered unpleasantly like an un-scratched itch; her apprehension inflated to fill the vacancy. A second later, a second sting hit her neck; the sensation caused her to clench involuntarily around him. The cold trickle down the side of her cheek gave her the answer - drops of melted ice.

He smiled in satisfaction as he felt the powerful squeeze of her muscles around him, and slowly withdrew his cock, which emerged coated in slick wetness, the marinade of a day spent in suspense. Another cold drop landed on her skin, this time at her left breast. The gape of her entrance, recently vacated, snapped shut around nothing in another powerful spasm, as she shivered and squealed. A warm trickle down her taint gave him the answer - yes Sir, please, more. Her breaths had become ragged shudders. He entered her again, just as another drop fell and spattered at the summit of her right breast. Goosebumps formed at the areola. Another contraction gave him the comforting pleasure of sexual embrace. He leaned down to take the wet nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and titillating with light flicks of his tongue. In response, a low purr rumbled from her throat, replaced briefly by higher-pitched whimpers when further drops landed on her other breast. These were again in synchrony with involuntary spasms of her pelvic muscles, the pleasure of which was his to feel. His mouth left its initial target, immediately replaced by his fingers in its task of teasing. With his other hand, he slipped the melting piece of ice into his mouth, which he brought down to her other nipple. Using his tongue, he pressed the ice against her sensitive flesh, eliciting a yelp and an instinctual attempt to pull away from his mouth, hands and feet tugging helplessly at their bonds. His cock enjoyed its wet massage.

Her senses were on fire, with both nipples provoked in different ways, and a cunt filled with the pressure of pulsating manhood. The over-stimulation reached new heights when he, at once, grasped her nipple in a spiteful pinch and bit down hard on the other. She felt tears well up in her eyes, wicked quickly away by the blindfold. A flash of pain, just shy of being intolerable, then a silent nothing as his fingers and mouth fell away from her delicate flesh. Nothing but the fullness between her legs, a sensation to which her attention immediately shifted, in the surprise absence of all else. She found herself grinding her hips, awkwardly, desperately, seeking a more dynamic copulation. To her abject disappointment, this only caused him to withdraw, pulling out along, in his retreat, sticky rivulets of grool that flowed out and settled at the indent of her nether entrance. His exit was not complete; just his tip remained teasingly inside. A series of useless clenches rippled from the focus of their unusual sex, in vain attempt to entice his return. The next thing she felt was a warm breath on her face, scented with the heady intoxicant of his drink. A rough bristly texture she recognised as his kiss pressed against her lips, then a mixture of wet and cold, as he passed the remnants of the ice from his mouth to hers. A bitter taste. She felt so close to him now, his chest radiating its warmth against her own heaving breasts, her stiff nipples drawing small trails against his pectorals with each cycle of breaths. They lingered in this embrace for what seemed to her a tantalising eternity, lips enlocked in passion, and a cunt that continued in its throb of invitation to the guest at its doors. She melted to nothing in this moment, along with the last of the ice in her mouth.

Visitors are not kept waiting forever. He reminded her of this with a swift re-acquaintance of his tip to the very back walls of her accommodation in one swift and sudden thrust. Her surprise was muffled against their tight oral embrace, the seal of which he now reluctantly broke. He withdrew from his glass, a second piece of ice. This, he pressed into the indent at the front of her throat. The shock of this caused her once more to strain against her unyielding bonds in attempted escape. He did not relent, but slowly trailed the cold ice in a path down her chest, across onto her left breast, and circling its summit. Run-off melt-water snaked down from the elevation to disappear out of sight around her ribs. She was whimpering now, continuing to fight her restraints. He enjoyed the effect of her desperate movements on the sensitive instrument that he had buried within her core. He passed the ice now to the other prominence, again tracing a circuitous trail. The intensity of her movements, having diminished slightly before in helpless resignation, returned re-invigorated. She continued to vocalise in helpless mewls, at the mercy of his torments. Not only did this garner no sympathy on his part, but it inflamed within him an intense sexual fervor.

Excitement that she felt in the pulsations from deep within her. Pulsations to which she responded with her own. She could not decide if she wanted more or less. All she knew was a hunger to be fucked raw by her captor, who had instead taken upon himself to first play with his captive. Her ears rang incessantly, senses long overloaded by his methods. She felt the cold at her breast like electric shocks that coursed through her whole body in waves, each seizure tormentingly, agonisingly terminating at her invaded cunt, which pulsed in sympathetic communion. She felt the chill object of her aggravation deviate from its course. What fresh hells?

He dragged the melting ice now back to her mid-line, tracing a slow meandering river-path down her abdomen, stopping momentarily to visit her navel, where it deposited a small pool of melt.

She knew now the course that the ice must take. There can only be one dreaded destination in its south-bound endeavours.

He took his time. Her body, previously writhing in protest, now lay still in silent, nervous expectation. Her jaw stood proud and square once more in a semblance of its prior stubborn defiance. It was lacking something this time. The composure was thinly-veiled. Beneath, a complex cauldron of seething desires and trepidations.

The ice now stopped at its penultimate station, just above her sensitive and ignored clitoris. She drew breath to prepare, steeling her resolve against the impending assault of her senses. That did not come.

He lifted the piece of ice and deposited it back into his glass with a clink, perfuming his drink with her scent. The scent of sex that he now enjoyed with a long draught from the glass. He smiled at the pleasure of having yet again surprised his ward, who squirmed beneath him in disquiet. He smiled as he executed the last of his battle plans.

She felt now the comforting and familiar touch of his fingers at her clitoris, in concert finally with slow fucking thrusts of his cock. The relief of this was for her, on par with orgasmic release. She shivered with additional delight in realisation that the bonus of orgasm was still to come. His fingers and cock worked their familiar magic in practised tandem. She was already close from the excitement of the starting act, and was ushered still closer as he upped his tempo towards crescendo. She was moaning and cooing now in wild animalistic abandon, urging herself as much as him, closer and closer with each thrust and rub to her long-awaited conclusion. The last approach. The final descent. Ecstatic desire welled up within her, dammed in by the impending orgasmic release. She floated now to the very brink of overflow, and the very edge of tipping carelessly into unbridled pleasure. Her mind blanked as she half-heard a distant clink again of ice and glass. I'm going to come.

She's going to come. The cues for which he had been looking out played in the curl of her toes and the grip of her hands. Cues which he now responded to, at the very zenith of possibility beyond which rested her release, by stopping. Swiftly, he scooped from his glass the remaining pieces of ice, and pressed the handful against her warm, recently evacuated cunt. A soulful scream escaped her lips, as stinging cold cancelled and replaced the warm embrace of orgasmic pleasure. She struggled now like he had never before witnessed, limbs struggling uselessly. He pushed the ice inside her, rubbing the remaining stray fragments against her swollen clitoris and lips. She screamed again, fuelled by betrayal and tortured senses. He took his erection in his hand, still cold and wet from the ice. Her frustrations, incendiary fuel to his excitement, along with the motion of his caress, brought him quickly close to his own edge.

Dazzled and confused, she only faintly felt the warm drops that landed on her skin. Her attention was still on the grips of the numb cold that was assailing parts of her body that, just seconds ago, were lava-hot with engorged potential. Through the fog of unfulfilled desire, she heard again the creak of wood, and the clink of fresh ice against glass.