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Hot Ice
By
AltaBrwnSgr

Hot Ice

I'd light a fire in the fireplace and rub on my cookie all day...
Six foot two inches of tanned muscular glory glided towards my empty bed. He had that thing. The gorgeous face, the chiseled body, and the sexy swag… This is what I needed: the dick. His wife was a lucky bitch to have him. But I wanted him all to myself: a one-on-one fuck feast. The teasing in New Orleans left me craving his searing flesh way down deep inside my chocolate cavern. Now, he was mine. This was going to be so good. Richard looked at me and rubbed his throbbing pole, parted my aching labia folds, and dangled his junk at the door of my unfulfilled desire. He pushed the tip in and then...

“No… no…no” I whispered. My damn eyes were opening.

“Un-fucking-believable, the dreaded unfulfilled sex dream strikes again! Aw hell!” I held my eyes shut tight and I remained perfectly still with the hope that the cobra would strike and my paused dream would resume play.

“Sleep, oh please, please, please just go back to sleep,” I prayed and I began to drift.

…And then the less than subtle, “Womp… womp… womp… womp” of that damn Classic Alarm tone startled the shit out of me! Alas, I had to move now because there was a fire truck in my bed with no one staffing the damn fire hose.

“Shit!” The crotch of my panties felt like I’d been grinding all night and was on the verge of a cum. Unfortunately, I was nowhere near an orgasm. I located the fire truck and I swiped the iPhone screen to shush the noise. I rolled out of my comfortable warm sleeping space, grabbed my pink fleece robe, snatched my iPhone, and made my way to the caffeine.

The path to the kitchen was a chilly walk on hardwood that made me wish I’d slid my feet into my snuggly sheepskin slippers. I needed caffeine, a lot of caffeine to get anything done worth doing today. Flights, meetings, and hotels and then more flights, meetings, and hotels had me tremendously exhausted. But, I had to keep moving forward.

I opened the cabinet to discover that I had a few choices: French roast, Blonde roast... An Italian dark roast would do it. I grabbed the coffee grinder, added a few scoops of fresh beans, and pressed the button. When I opened the grinder, the scent of rich fresh ground cocoa goodness wafted up my nostrils. Relief for my looming caffeine headache and consolation for my disturbing horniness was just moments away. I quickly got the coffee maker started.

I tiptoed over to the sofa table and sifted through the small mountain of last week’s mail that amounted to five days’ worth of trash. I took a few steps forward, and I let my bare toes sink deep into my fuzzy area rug. I lingered there for just a moment.

A personal day of self-love would be perfect: Lush Stories, some cyber, and my long thick dildo… chilled. I’d light a fire in the fireplace and rub on my cookie all day. I digressed for a bit. I shook off my frozen fantasy. Hmm. As I deposited my junk mail in file thirteen (the kitchen trash can), my phone rang. It was Tony, my coworker.

“Good morning, Tony,” I sang as my eyes rolled in the back of my head. He was good-looking although quite annoying.

“Hey, how are you doing Tahari”, Tony inquired, “You ready to go?”

“I’m still packing. I got in late last night and I just finished unpacking. This turn around hasn’t been a party you know.” I’d just come from a five-day company meeting in New Orleans. My flight got into Atlanta late last night and our flight to Chicago was leaving in five…oh shit, three hours.

“Chop-chop Miss Lady time is ticking. You know your local forecaster is calling for sleet and snow in the ATL this morning, right? Do you want me to swing by and get you, are you driving, or are you taking a car service? Give me your address. I’ll come and get you, okay?” Tony rambled with bothersome anticipation.

Hmm, I was definitely not driving and I’ll be damned if I was gonna reveal the directions to my house to that office flirt. Tony’s been trying to get on board for a while now, and he has quite the reputation at work. The last thing I needed was ole boy stalking my home. “Car service…I’m taking a car service. I’ll meet you at the gate Tony. Okay?”

“You want a triple grande soy caramel macchiato no foam, right?” Tony asked while playing the role of my personal barista. He seemed exceptionally pleased with his memory of my drink preferences.

“Yes, thank you colleague,” I answered.

“You’re welcome, Tahari. See you at the gate,” and he ended the call.

I poured my first cup of coffee, added caramel syrup and vanilla soymilk, took a lengthy sip, and called the car service. The man on the other end of the call let me know that he wouldn’t have anyone available to pick me up until two in the afternoon. Our flight left at noon. I thanked him and released the call.

At that moment, my mind entered the boxing ring with my fingers. I needed to make a decision whether to give Tony my address or not. Do I dial him or not? So, I played out the scenario of driving myself to the airport.

Let’s see…I’m already late and it’s snowing. I enter the long-term parking lot but I can’t find a parking space in long-term parking lot. So, I have double back in two miles of bumper-to-bumper traffic to park in the short-term lot, which will cost me triple parking fees when I return. I inadvertently leave my cosmetics and my toothbrush at home because of the rush. (Fast forward..) I’ll be a stink-breath unbeat-faced trying to sell somebody an idea tomorrow at eight in the morning. I ultimately miss the flight.

Ding, ding, ding, and the round was over! My mind won Mike Tyson style. I knew what I needed to do. My index finger gave in with heavy resistance and I hit Tony’s cell.

“Hi Tahari!” Tony was entirely too hyped at this time of the morning. I could hear the grin all over his face. My mind was angry at my finger. Now, what did he know that I didn’t?

“Hey Tony. I need a favor. Would you swing by and get me?” I reluctantly asked while silently cursing my finger.

“Of course I will. That will be no problem. I’m actually on my way to the airport now. Give me your address and I’ll come by and get you. It’s starting to snow Miss Ma’am.” If nothing else, Tony was a handsome, intelligent, and informative vanilla-guy from New York. He just didn’t have any game. But I had to give Tony credit. He knew me, and he knew that I was running late.

“Okay. I hear you. I’ll be ready. I promise. See you in a few!” I quickly gave him my address and scurried to get ready.

Two hours later, I could hear the sleet tapping on the windows in my house. I opened the front door to discover three inches of heavy wet snow on the walkway. The snowfall in my yard resembled the fluffy foam the barista scoops off my caramel macchiato.

“Uh oh.” I winced. Is this man lost? What is going on? I dialed Tony. “Hey. What’s happening?”

“Tahari, the roads are in really bad shape. There are so many accidents. Do me a favor and see if our flight is delayed or cancelled; not that we would make it at this point.” The slight panic in Tony’s voice was obvious.

“Okay, Tony. Hold on one sec,” I put Tony on speakerphone, opened the Delta app, and entered our flight number. “It’s cancelled Tony. The flight is cancelled. I’ll call Don in Chicago and let him know that we won’t make the meeting in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks Tahari,” Tony responded.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you on Monday. Bye.” I looked at the phone to release the call but I had a thought. “Hey… quick question…Do you think that I can beat the worst of the snowfall if I run to the store now? I haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks.”

“NO! Tahari, don’t come out in this mess. I’m about four miles away from you and I see a grocery store on my left. Make a list of what you need, send me the list by email, and I’ll bring your groceries to you, Tahari.” Tony insisted.

Because I’d been traveling, I had very little food in the house. Furthermore, I hated driving in bad weather. So, I was grateful that Tony offered to make the grocery run. I took inventory of my kitchen cabinets, made an extensive food list, and emailed it right on over to Tony. He returned the email, “Damn, are you stocking up for the apocalypse? I’ll see you in a few, Tahari!”

Two and a half hours later…

I opened the front door to look at the growing piles of snow in my driveway. “Is it still Thursday or am I dreaming?” I muttered under my breath. Just then, Tony pulled up. “Ah, sustenance has arrived.”

I glanced in the foyer mirror to check the chocolate. I’d already changed into some black leggings, a cream fitted thermal henley shirt, and thick socks after learning about the cancelled flight. My little outfit was a tad tight and trampy. My shirt exposed my 34 H jugs, and my painted-on pants accentuated my curvy 38-inch hips. But shit, I really didn’t care because I dressed to please me. I planned my dinner and my personal-pleasure session down to the minute. My caramel cookie was gonna get it tonight! I stepped into my snow boots and headed out to Tony’s car.

“Hey Tony!”

Tony’s piercing blue-green eyes traveled from the crown of my head to my toes like somebody’s father inspecting his child. “Go inside Tahari. Where’s your coat and hat?” Is he salty? He wore a charcoal peacoat, a navy turtleneck, and grey slacks that were stylish and soaked from the snow. Ice adorned his caramel brown close-cropped hatless hair. Tony’s arms were full of those annoying plastic grocery bags that don’t do anything good for the environment.

I attempt to do my part and use canvas bags when I shop. I tried to grab a few bags from him but he snatched his arm away from my grasp. What the hell? Damn, caveman! So, I led him in the direction of the kitchen. “Okay, I’m just trying to help. I know the list I sent you was long. I hadn’t…”

“Ya think?” Tony smirked and semi-slammed the bags down on the kitchen counter. Tony quickly made three more trips to his car to retrieve enough groceries to feed every refugee stranded in the snow on interstates 20 and 75. He seems pissed. He offered to pick up these groceries. I didn’t ask him to do this for me. He carried the weather in on his coat all snappy-like side-stepping my doormat. He seemed to track the dampness and slush from my front door all the way into my kitchen on purpose.

Let me get this man out of my house. “Thank you, sir. How much do I owe you?” I grabbed my wallet to reimburse Tony for the groceries and his gas and his time. My intent was threefold: my horniness, my hunger, and my desire to get him back on the road as soon as possible.

Ice chunks fell from his hair as Tony looked around the room and asked, “May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure. The loo is down the hall and to the right,” I answered pointing down the hall. I started putting away the groceries, and I was careful to leave the ingredients for my dinner on the counter. This is good night to build a fire and enjoy a nice glass of wine. I looked up and there was Mr. Freeze looking like a wet puppy.

Tony began to present his case like a well-seasoned attorney. “Tahari, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but the city and surrounding areas have issued a travel advisory. The roads are extremely slick because of the freezing rain and snow. It’s like an ice skating rink out there. There are people stranded and…”

“Wow the roads are that bad, huh?” I assumed the uninformed oblivious cave woman position. I’m sure it wasn’t working. Shit, I knew where this was going. Damn! My index finger was due for a beat down.

Then Tony took his ass down off his shoulders, located some humility, and gently presented the haymaker. “Listen don’t worry about paying me back for the groceries. I need a bigger favor. Would you mind if I cooked some dinner and crashed on your couch for the night? I picked up a few groceries for myself and I’ll leave as soon as the precipitation stops and the roads clear some.”

I’m getting the butcher knife for my damn index finger!

Boom! There it is! Shit, shit, shit! Frustration was knocking me down but I failed to fall. My face didn’t flinch. Honestly, I didn’t have the heart to send him back out into the frozen tundra, especially since he took the time to make sure that I had food.

I looked at Tony, smiled, and said, “Sure Tony. Why don’t you run out to your car and get your groceries and your luggage? You can stay. It’s not a problem. And listen, you don’t have to cook. I’m making a little vegetarian chili and a salad. Would you like some?”

“Hey thanks. I really appreciate your hospitality, Tahari. At least let me cook. I make a mean chili. My chili is so good that I guarantee you will ask me for the recipe,” Tony walked over to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and gave it a tender massage. “Will you let me do that in exchange for your hospitality?”

Tony’s blue-green eyes were working on me, and he seemed to be moving in slow motion. My resolved exhale was slightly out of control and I hoped he didn’t hear it, “Sure Tony. Okay, I’ll just build us a fire. I want to warm the house a little more.”

“No, no, no Tahari. I’ll take care of that too,” Tony’s hand was still massaging my shoulder. I eased away from his grip because I was not falling for the office fuck-boy.

“Let me run to the car and I’ll get started with dinner,” Tony insisted and then he went back outside, gathered his things, and fulfilled the promises made by way of his lips and his blue-green eyes.

*****


Tony went right to work. He transformed from colleague to potential weekend fucktoy in a flash. Tony exchanged his business casual turtleneck and slacks for a sapphire blue thermal shirt and faded denim jeans that were ripped in strategic places. The lightly worn henley rode every curve and turn of his biceps and swollen chest, and the shade of blue only magnified his blue-green eyes. He built a crackling fire in the great room that warmed the entire house.

I stood at the kitchen counter preparing our salad, and I spied on him while he prepared the chili that he bragged about earlier. I had to admit that his culinary skills were superior and impressive, in fact. Within a moment’s time, Tony created the most mouth-watering fragrance of chili and spices that drifted throughout my house. The aroma was hot and spicy and it was the perfect prescription for the icy day.

Tony stirred and tasted his chili, and put the lid back on the pot to let it simmer a bit longer. He walked over to the counter where I was working, leaned in, smiled, and inquired, “Tahari, I always see you working so hard. What do you like to do to relax?”

Well Tony, I like to masturbate, fuck, and be fucked. That’s what I wanted to say. But, I said, “Oh I enjoy reading novels and watching movies. What do you do to relax, Tony?”

“While it is not the most relaxing activity I engage in, I like cooking, as you can see. I do some hiking and camping; I love the outdoors. My ultimate activity for relaxation; however, is private and a bit naughty,” Tony responded, walked back to the pot, stirred the mixture, and returned to me with of spoon full of his concoction.

“Taste this and tell me what you think, Ms. Tahari,” Tony grinned, gently blew on the chili, and guided the spoon into my mouth. His blue-green eyes fixated on my face.

I allowed this man to feed me and I liked it. “Mmm, this is very good,” I answered with embarrassment because of the uncontrollable rise in the pitch of my voice. But it really was good. It was just the right amount of savory spicy and the vegetables were cooked perfectly. A little sauce ran down my chin. I started to take my finger and swipe my face but Tony stopped my hand in motion.

“Hold on. I’ll get that for you.” In one movement, Tony lightly dragged his thumb from my bottom lip to the cleft in my chin. He promptly licked my leftovers from his thumb.

“It’s getting really warm in here, no?” Tony crossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his henley, and pulled his shirt over his head only to reveal miles of tanned muscles fighting to be free from his azure blue wife-beater.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his hard nipples poking his tank. I fanned my face with my hand and exhaled a nonsensical response, “Uh, yea. It’s smoking... Mm hmm, I guess I’m… I mean…Yes, it’s a little hot… in here.”

“You would be cooler if you take off those thick socks, no?” Tony walked around to my side of the counter, lifted my legs, and removed one sock and then the other. His strong hands treated my naked toes and the arches of my feet to a quick massage that lasted a good twenty minutes. He put my legs down and inquired, “Are you ready to eat?”

Eat what? “Yea Tony, let’s eat.” I answered and I started to get up from the counter stool.

“Sit tight. I got you,” he said.

Tony washed his hands, grabbed a service for one out of the cabinets, and he sat them on the counter. He doled out a healthy portion of chili in the bowl, dipped the spoon in, and continued my spoon-feeding from the earlier mini-tasting session. His aim was spot on for the first two spoonfuls of chili. Then his aim went off course. He somehow managed to get chili sauce on my bulging breasts.

“Uh, Tony…”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he said. “Let me get that for you Tahari.”

He sat the spoon in the bowl and began a tongue-slithering journey that went from my chin down to my chili-decorated cleavage. His tongue landed on my lips where he gently sucked my upper lip first and then my bottom. Tony cradled my face with both hands and skillfully darted his tongue in my mouth. My tongue countered the movements of Tony’s tongue. It was a phenomenal kiss.

He stopped for a brief moment and asked, “Tahari, are you okay with what I’m about to do to you? Are you ready to experience my ultimate activity for relaxation?”

“Yes, yes. Do it!” Every ounce of my self-control was lost in that four-word response. The office-flirt slash fuck-boy got me!

My signature of approval was on the dotted line. Tony immediately reached inside my shirt and under my bra to find my protruding nipples. He rubbed them and licked my neck until the crotch of my leggings was soaked with my juices. His hands continued down my rib cage and past my belly button to find my swollen vulva. He ran his finger across my pussy lips.

“Damn, you are so wet,” he whispered in my ear. “Stand up.”

I stood up as my leggings were going down.

“No underwear?” Tony asked.

“Underwear wasn’t necessary today,” I replied.

Tony led me to the fuzzy carpet in front of the fireplace. I held the bulge in his jeans. It was a good nine inches and I was savoring the thought of his cock quenching my hunger. However, he quickly moved my hand away, “Let me do it, okay?”

“Okay,” I resolved to let Tony do it.

The fire was blazing as Tony lifted my shirt and bra off in one motion. He moved behind me leaving a trail of wet kisses down my spine to the small of my back. He kneeled down, palmed both of my caramel ass cheeks, and spread them wide. His tongue continued on an expedition down the crack of my ass until it fell into my bottom hole. Tony licked my ass and pressed his finger inside slowly. His free hand found occupation with my engorged clit. Tony licked, finger-fucked, and rubbed until I begged him to put his dick inside me.

“Please fuck me Tony,” I pleaded.

“No ma’am. Not yet,” he responded. “I found a little something on your bathroom counter earlier. Let me go get it.”

Tony returned with my dildo. It was ten inches of a good time. Tony got a glass and filled it with ice water. Then, he dropped the dildo in the glass and sat the glass on the end table. Tony grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and spread it on the floor. He made me kneel down on all fours. He undressed before me and stuck his penis in my face.

“You want this dick?” He asked while rubbing his cock.

“Yes, Tony.”

“Then open your mouth, baby.”

My elixir ran down my thighs in anticipation. He pushed his dick inside my mouth. I had no control over what I thought would be a gentle blowjob. He pushed the bulk of his cock straight back into my throat. I gagged and sucked as tears streamed down my face. My pussy was throbbing. He pushed and pulled in and out of my mouth until streams of saliva ran down to the floor. Then I felt his dick swell and harden. He held my head and shot his load down my throat.

That was obviously my second course.

He held my face with both hands, looked into my eyes, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Lay down on your back, Tahari”

“Okay.”

Tony lay on his stomach and began his second course. His tongue was magical. He licked the crease of my thighs, my labia folds, and my clit until I screamed. His tongue moved back and forth and back and forth sending me well past three orgasms.

Tony’s face was covered in my juices and his body was dripping with sweat. Tony grabbed the glass with the dildo, and repositioned himself onto his back and said, “Come here, baby.”

Tony’s dick was long, thick, and fat. I wanted his fat dick inside my pussy, and I was sure that it was time for the dessert course. I straddled him and gently clutched his dick to guide inside. But Tony stopped me.

“Turn around, baby,” he demanded.

I turned around and he began to impale my asshole with his dick.

“Lay back, baby,” Tony said.

I lay back as he pushed his dick in my ass a little further. Tony grabbed the cold wet dildo out of the glass, shook some of the water off, held it for a second, and handed it to me.

“Fuck your pussy with this, baby,” he commanded.

I stuck the cold dildo into my pussy as Tony slid his dick in and out and in and out of my ass. Our bodies were so wet with sweat and sexual juices that my booty raced up and down his tool as if I were a bobsled at the start gate in the winter Olympics. The room was an inferno. This was not what I expected but it was working out fine all the same. It had been a long time since I experienced two dicks inside me at once. I forgot how good it felt. We fucked for hours until Tony pumped my ass full of semen and I squirted a fountain of cum.

That night he never let me have his dick in my pussy. Hmm, maybe next time?

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2013-2016 Tamar A Doll. All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author.

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