Frozen in the Wild

The biting March wind whipped around me as I hurried home, the remnants of the day’s outdoor testing clinging to my skin like a persistent chill. My office, blessedly air-conditioned, felt miles away, a distant memory of warmth and order. Supervise outdoor testing, staring at numbers on an instrument in a damp, wooden hut – it was a miserable existence, especially when the equipment failed and left me shivering in the fading light. I’d known I wouldn't thaw until I reached the sanctuary of my home, and the thought of Natalie, already asleep in bed, offered a desperate hope for relief.

“How was your day, darling?” she murmured sleepily, her voice barely audible.

“Frozen to the bone,” I replied, lifting the duvet to expose her leg. The touch sent a shiver through her, instantly jolting her awake. “Your hands are like ice!” she exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and irritation in her tone. “Where have you been?”

“Outside most of the time,” I said, a hint of amusement in my voice. “You’re my only chance of warming up.” As I gently slid a finger down her stomach, towards her pubic area, I anticipated another shriek, but instead, there was an unsettling silence. A slight parting of her leg, perhaps a phantom sensation, made me pause, a strange curiosity taking hold.

I pressed on, emboldened by the silence and the growing heat in my own body. “Ah, that’s lovely,” she purred, her voice now laced with a sensual pleasure. “Your finger’s nice and cold.” The realization hit me then – the ice, the cold, and the heat were a potent combination, a forbidden pleasure that defied logic. I recalled an article I’d read, a bizarre suggestion of couples using ice cubes as a playful tool, a concept that now seemed both shocking and strangely appealing.

“Did you know,” I began, a mischievous glint in my eyes, “apparently some women enjoy the sensation of an ice cube against their clitoris? It’s a rather niche fetish, but it exists.”

Silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, a subtle curl of her lips, a flicker of amusement in her eyes, betrayed her reaction. “Nat… surely you never…?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. My wife, usually reserved and cautious, had never spoken of such things. This was a new territory, a hidden world waiting to be explored.

Something stirred within me, a primal desire to delve deeper, to push the boundaries of our shared intimacy. This subject deserved more investigation. It was time to test the waters, to see if Natalie shared this peculiar fascination. “Hmm… I was wondering,” I said, carefully choosing my words, “would you like to show me?”

The hesitation in her expression was palpable, a battle between her usual restraint and an undeniable curiosity. Finally, she offered a compromise, a cautious invitation that held both promise and risk. “I’m not too sure about it… but perhaps if you did it to me…”

I didn’t need any further encouragement. The icy thrill had taken root, and I moved with a swift, deliberate grace. Reaching the freezer, I grabbed the ice cube tray and filled it with cubes. Returning to the bedroom, I found Natalie had prepared for the encounter, laying out a plush towel beneath her backside. Selecting an ice cube, I rolled it slowly against her clitoris, observing her reaction with a predatory pleasure.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she breathed, her voice gaining a husky quality. I continued the exploration, moving the ice cube further down her labia, eliciting groans of mounting excitement. Finally, I reached the obvious target – her vaginal opening. There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of apprehension, before she yielded, her muscles relaxing as I gently inserted the cube. It pressed against her cervix, sending a wave of pleasure through her body.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked, my voice laced with concern, trying to temper my own arousal.

“Yes, yes, please…” she whispered, her breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

I pushed the cube further, determined to satisfy her desires. The sensation was both chilling and electrifying, a strange paradox that heightened my own arousal. Her voice trembled, her body quivered, and the air crackled with anticipation. It was a very strange sensation, a watery wetness mixed with her own juices, a combination that felt both alien and intensely familiar.

As the ice cube melted, dripping onto her skin, she cried out, a desperate plea for more. “I want you inside… I’m going to come!” Her words were a signal, a declaration of her desire. I was no longer hesitant; I moved with a renewed sense of urgency, pulling back the covers and stripping off my shirt.

By this point, I was rock hard, my muscles clenched with anticipation. I dropped my pants and leaned down, embracing her with a fierce intensity. As I plunged my cock into her, I felt the cool, icy touch lingering against my head, a constant reminder of our unusual encounter. The frustration and exhaustion of the day melted away as I began to cum, squirting my load directly onto the melting ice cube clinging to her cervix. It was an act of both pleasure and dominance, a culmination of our shared desires.

We lay there, exhausted but deeply satisfied, the remnants of the encounter clinging to our skin. Natalie’s pragmatic precaution with the towel was a wise move; the bed would have been soaked by now. “Well, that was different!” I sighed, a hint of disbelief in my voice. “I wasn’t expecting that! What a little secret you kept from me all these years…”

Natalie kissed me softly, then, after a moment of contemplation, she said, “And how about you? Did you ever do anything naughty you didn’t tell me about…?”

I remembered a particularly reckless night, fueled by alcohol and an overwhelming desire. The memory surfaced, bittersweet and slightly embarrassing. "Well, ahem," I began, clearing my throat, "so there was a hot summer day... You went to see your parents, and I was on my own, and got a bit horny... I was going to wait until you got home but it was all a bit too much... So I had an idea. I fished out one of your panties, a black pair, out of the laundry basket and... how can I put it... well, I turned it inside out, spread it out in front of me, and... I jizzed on the crotch area.”

Natalie giggled, a light, infectious sound. "Oh, how inappropriate! Like a schoolboy! And what did you do with the panties afterwards?"

"I was worried that you will find them in a, shall we say, compromised state… so I dried them surreptitiously and then I put them back in the laundry basket. They were still quite crusty though…" I finished, a nervous flush rising on my neck.

“Well, you got away with that one!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Like a little rebel." Then, after a moment of comfortable silence, she said, "Would you like to show me?"

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