Iced 3

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*

From the moment the ice hit her oblivious ass, Kristi launched upright, executed a clumsy pirouette and glared at the man standing behind her. His jaw slack and a horrified expression on his face, Mark gesticulated wildly in a poor attempt to mime the tragedy. The deafening music left little room for an auditory explanation. This unique circumstance led to an unexpected resolution.

"Lunachicks" were touring, promoting their "Babysitter on Acid" CD. As a Deejay for a campus/community radio station, Mark picked up free tickets for the show. New to the city he went alone.

The all-girl-band was electrifying. There was a multitude of bodies jostling and pressing against each other; crammed to the rafters, it was a cyclone of dancing and moshing. Barmaids never made it to the darkened recesses of the bar. The going was laborious and not without danger. Slipping on a beer soaked floor would not be amusing.

The volume was deafening and Mark stuffed a small tear of toilet paper in his ears; it filtered out the distortion. Useful if you wanted to maintain an auditory capacity late into life.

Mark sat on the edge of the stage staring up at the lead guitarist grinding out chords dressed in an outrageous array of colours and fibers. Laughing and grinning, Mark enjoyed himself, the views of the crowd and the band couldn't be better. The sweaty girls dancing front stage, with tight fitting tops and luscious smiles were delicious eye candy.

Hopefully one of these girls is coming home with me tonight

, he thought.

Half way through the show Mark elbowed and pushed his way to the bar for more water, he didn't drink alcohol. There was no defining line-up to the counter; no differentiation between the sweaty people wanting thirst quenching drinks and the crowd socializing or dancing. Waiting for what seemed like an eternity, he finally got his prized glass of ice water. After tipping generously Mark struggled through the masses to find a different vantage point from which to observe the revelers and the band.

Catching himself as he was about to topple over a row of partiers sitting on, what seemed like the dance floor, Mark wobbled and regained his balance. There were two steps on this side that lead to the main dancing area. People were hunkered down all along the stairs catching a moments repose, getting ready to re-enter the mob with hips gyrating and arms flailing.

From the slightly raised vantage-point, he could observe the sea of heads moving in a chaotic thrashing of bodies, attempting to synchronize to the beat of the music. Elevated highballs and beer bottles refracted the light from the lasers and mirror ball; cheers spontaneously erupted every few seconds. Hoots and hollers greeted the ending of every song, maddeningly propelling the crowd to lurch as one towards the stage like a school of fish. The Lunachicks, fully in their element, screamed back, laughing and provoking them, elevating the energy to outrageous levels.

Standing on the top tier, careful to not step on anyone's hands or fingers, Mark stomped and cheered with the rest of them, lost in the pounding rhythm of the music. His hand wrapped around the slippery glass of ice cold water as it seeped and sweat condensation. As he tossed his head to the beat, the glass slid from his hand. And as he snatched and clawed at empty space, the ice and what little water was left, tumbled down to splash on the floor. Miraculously, the glass was prevented from bouncing off unsuspecting heads. However, a few choice cubes of ice lodged themselves in the crack of the girl's jeans sitting directly below.

Rising in one swift explosion of movement and turning to look behind her, was a tall, athletic woman. Standing below him yet looking down into his face, she gave Mark a withering stare. Drawing his head up to meet her eyes, his jaw opened and closed. Sputtering and heaving her chest in his face, she grimaced and screamed at the top of her lungs, "What the fuck was that?"

Mark quickly found his voice again and instantly spurted out "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I'm such a fucking clutz!"

"Well my ass is wet! And Goddamn that was cold! What the fuck was that? What were you drinking?" As she reached behind and dislodged a fragment of ice.

"Aaggh, I can't believe this is happening," Mark lamely cried out. "It was ice. Just water -- the glass just slipped out of my hand! I swear it was an accident! I didn't do it on purpose!" Unable to contain a smirk, Mark had to look away.

"Ya, well fuck that was cold!"

Cringing Mark said, "I know, I know, I'm just really sorry ok? Let me buy you a drink -- what kind of beer is that?"

She had a partially finished beer in her hand and simply turned the label towards Mark. He yelled, "I'll be right back. I'm really sorry."

As he turned around she nudged him in the ribs and screaming in his face said, "It's not that bad! I'm not that wet. It was just such a fucking shock to feel ice cold -

something

- go down the crack of my ass!"

Laughing, she winked as Mark made his way to the bar. A few minutes later, they sat together on the step and clinked drinks as they whooped and danced.

As the Lunachicks said their adieu's and the crowd started thinning out, Mark asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Kristi," she said, now that they could actually hear what the other was saying, voices dry and raspy. "Nice to meet you

despite

the circumstances!"

They both laughed, Mark looking down, kicking at the floor. They headed towards the exit agreeing that the Lunachicks had put on a fantastic show and the crowd, though rowdy had been great.

Once outside Kristi met up with her two sisters. They had gone their separate ways once inside and were now getting in her car. Mark grinned as Kristi headed towards them and said, "So where's the party?" His voice sounded hushed in the cold night air.

Kristi looked at her sisters and paused, "What do you think? Should we bring him home? Seems harmless enough."

With raised eyebrows they glanced at each other and iterated firmly, "Ya well, we're going to bed when we get home so if you two are going to party, take it downstairs! We work in the morning!"

Turning, Kristi extended her index finger, signaling to him, "come here."

The interior of the car filled with laughter and teasing as Kristi explained how they met. In a cacophony of screeches and hysteria, they interrupted each other in their haste to needle him. Mark sheepishly grinning, did his best to defend himself. They were bent on getting a rise out of him and were succeeding, he was blushing like a teenager.

Once home, the sisters said their sincere

goodnights

,

nice meeting you,

platitudes and left. Kristi went to the fridge and asked, "You want something to drink?

Without ice

?" Turning to look at him mischievously.

Accepting a Perrier, Mark cast about the darkened house and noted a glassed in room. Recognizing it for a solarium, he suggested that perhaps they could check it out. Agreeing she stated, "It's my favorite spot to sit and contemplate."

Kristi sat by a window, Mark came to a stop at her side. His foot resting on the corner of the chair, arm across his knee and looking down, his eyes softened. Kristi smiled back, neither of them uncomfortable with the lapse in conversation. Reaching over he gently squeezed her shoulder. Leaning into his hand Kristi invited further contact; as he slowly bent to her lips, they locked eyes.

Kissing is the ultimate ice-breaker. Kissing opens something in you, a doorway to passion. The intimacy of mouth to mouth exploration sends a signal to your knees, causing them to weaken and wobble. Kissing incites your heart to palpitate and your thoughts to dissipate, floating off into the ether where they wait patiently, no longer necessary to the moment. A kiss of passion is unrestrained yet, a synchronized dance, lip to lip, angling to fit together like solving Rubik's cube. Meshed and dovetailed, accentuating the sensuality of the kiss, both participants are guided by the reflection of the other. Kissing is breathing in a person's essence. All nerve endings, poised along the supple and expressive swath of skin above and below the opening to your mouth, lose all fear of what may escape and seek instead to feel their counterpart, to fuse. Kissing sends a cascade of neurons to the epicenter of the brain carrying a simple message:

shut down all thought.

Kissing softens the heart and the ego's axiom to succeed. It encourages flexibility on an emotional level, inviting vulnerability. Kissing is experiencing the "other" as we would kiss ourselves. Inevitably when the spell is broken, from the ether your thoughts sinuously return. Your heart clutches a fraction, sensing the inevitable change, giving you pause to consider the moment you're letting go of. Once your immersion into that space surfaces to become conscious of drawing a breath, the intimacy and magic of kissing surrenders to something else.

Kneeling in front of her, Mark gently pried her knees apart and smoothing her jeans ran his hands up the outside of her thighs to wrap around curvaceous hips. Scuttling closer he looked up at her, inviting more immediate contact. Inclining her head she kissed him deeply. His hands move up the hips to her waist and around to the small of her back.

Coming up for air, Kristi breathed, "Let's go downstairs to my room," her eyes big and round, pupils dilated, her honeyed breath still lingering on Mark's tongue. Standing, she took him by the hand and lead him through the unknown. Guiding him to her lair following the unfamiliar contours of a home he's never entered, Mark willingly pattered along.

Entering first, she switched on a bedside lamp. Grabbing her waist, he spun and flopped down on the mattress, their bodies bouncing. Kristi twisted onto her side and seizing his hands thrusts them above his head. In one deft motion she straddled his abdomen pinning his arms above his head.

Looking him in the eye she said, "Ok, don't think just because we've come this far means we're going to fuck. You seem like a really nice guy but I've just met you."

"Fine by me. I'm just really happy to be here with you and kissing you. You seem like a really nice girl too. Even though the circumstances of our introduction were, well,

unusual

." He laughed, drawing his lips into an "O" eyebrows arching comically.

"'Ya, that was quite the pick-up line! You getting me all wet!" Pausing she continued, "Hmmm, was that planned mister? You better come clean you know. I'll have to ask around, see if you've used this move before!" she snickered. And dropping her head, covered his mouth with hers.

Drinking deeply of each others tastes and smells, they kissed and squirmed on her bedspread creating pleats and creases, pulling it askew. Mark, his hands freed, wrapped his arms around her waist, alternating squeezing her and curving back to look at her, as their bodies gently rocked to and fro. Becoming aware that his cock was painfully bound in a less than ideal position he groped his crotch, attempting to pull his penis upwards so that it could, in relative terms, comfortably extend.

Thrusting her hips at his zippered jeans she whispered in his ear, "Something wrong?" and nibbled on his earlobe.

Grinning, he granted that, "Ya,

something

. Had to um, reposition a, um, a pole that's stuck in my pants."

Mark continued upwards with his hands, they floated over her breasts and caressed them through the heavy fabric of her checkered shirt. It was flannel and felt nice and soft as he tenderly squeezed her boobs. It wasn't long before his hand was at her waist crawling up beneath the shirt to find her bra. He could feel her hardened nipples straining against the thin foamy pad. Her tits weren't large, but that was fine by Mark, he was known for saying

more than a handful is a waste

. She softly sighed and taking Mark's t-shirt by the hem, helped him to sit up and pulled it over his head. He took hers by the collar and started unfastening the buttons. She watched his hands as they performed this ritual, steady yet she could feel his excitement. Looking up from his sinuous arms, she kissed him again, lightly running her hands up from his bare shoulders to caress his chin and neck.

He whispered, "Mmmm. You have nice soft hands. I like the way you're touching me."

Fiddling with her bra behind her back, Mark embarrassingly admitted his lack of practice, "It's been a while since I've made out with a woman."

Unsticking her face from his, she watched his eyes as she removed her bra. Mark could sense a little apprehension as she displayed herself. As a man with a great love for women and a deep respect for their needs and desires as well as their limits, he lovingly took her right tit in one hand.

He returned her gaze and murmured, "Hmm, so good. Thanks for sharing this with me." He went on to say, "Nice boobs," stuck his face on one and opening his mouth engulfed it whole.

She gasped loudly and her hands jerked to his head intertwining her fingers in his hair. Rolling her over back on the bed he continued to feast on her breast while his other hand massaged and tweaked her free nipple. She moaned and arched her tits into his face.

Pulling his head back by the hair she heard the release of suction from his mouth and drawing it to her face, pressed her lips to his wet red tongue. Kristi's nipple, remodeled by Mark's left hand, rose angrily like a small blunt spire and bled a dark hue of pink. A tingling sensation that snaked like an electric current through her twin peaks straight to her clit, instantly flooded her cunt with hot creamy sex juices.

Catching her breath, mouth open and hot humid exhalations misting Mark's face, she reached down and found his belt. Lowering himself into her boobs he resumed his relentless assailment of her nipples; they responded admirably. Kristi tugged at his pants and sitting up unzipped her own jeans. The cue could not have been more timely, Marks' cock was noodling it's head above his waistband and was doing it's best to see over a fence an inch too tall.

He helped Kristi out of her pants admiring the wet splash of cunt nectar staining her panties. Licking his lips he felt a deep thirst for the essence oozing from her slit. He longed to feel her body buck and twist against his face teasing her clit and opening, from hole to hole.

Mark marveled at the fine womanly body of the really nice girl he just met by icing her ass. There she lay naked except for a tiny little patch of tissue covering her vulva and anus.

The gloating simpering expression on her face reflected the sunburst floating in Kristi's chest cavity, and jubilantly she said, "I know I said I wasn't going to fuck you but, this is so, um, good and, ah, well, um, let's just go with it." Shaking her head at her own disregard for a prudent approach and overwhelmed by a piercing ache deep in her cunt, she spread her legs.

Obligingly Mark accepted the task set before him. Running his hands up her inner thighs and pulling them up into a "V" her bent knees resting into his shoulders, Mark gently pried her legs further apart. Nothing was hindering his view of her wet spotted panties, they were stuck to the folds of her cunt lips like nipples at a wet t-shirt contest.

"Yyuuummmy!" he said to her grinning, his lips spread wide like an accordion, his chiclets sparkling white.

She nodded in agreement and said a little nervously, "I've only had sex once before and the guy was a jerk. But I'm feeling comfortable with you. I think I can trust you. And, well, let's get those panties off."

Snuggling down between her legs Mark suspected that she'd never been eaten out. He thought,

if she's only ever had "sex" once before and the guy was an idiot, I bet he just shoved it in her, came and then went home to momma.

Blowing hotly on her wet splayed peach, her juices oozing from her cunt, Mark lightly licked her panties, pausing to flutter gently on her clit.

He heard the air being sucked between her teeth as she grabbed his head and drawing him up a little, (she didn't really want him getting very far from her aching slutty hole), she said, "I've never had anyone go down on me. This is good for you too right?"

Mark made every effort to assuage her anxiety by stating, "You know, this is my main desire, to see you completely enjoy yourself. I get off watching you, want me!" He looked in her eyes and with the utmost kindness and empathy he could muster, said, "All you have to do is lie back, relax and enjoy. That's it."

She let go of his head, convinced that he was doing something he really loved and flopped back on the bed. Mark removed her soggy panties. Her legs going limp, she let them fall far apart. It didn't take long for her to understand that the more access he had to her cunt the better he was going to be able to service her. Submerging her own thoughts in the murky waters of her subconscious, she allowed her mind to empty and focus on what was happening down there.

As Mark teased and ruffled her labia, nudging her open, he realized that part of his task was to encourage her to completely surrender. By giving Kristi the time to peel back the false layers of modesty ingrained in her, Mark lovingly burrowed and explored her pussy, thoroughly kissing every millimeter. By listening to every murmur coming through the pores of her body, he pushed her to continue to open and flower, to experience the joy of being meticulously washed by his tongue.

Gently closing his mouth around the entire length of her slit, he exhaled hot moist breath against her. Drawing away after a few moments, he let his two front teeth lightly scrape down her vulva, coming into contact with her clit. She jerked and clutched at his head again. Wonderful feelings like fingers of lightening, expanded throughout her body, birthed from the center of her pussy, through to her undulating hips. They crashed of their own volition into Mark's face, and realizing what she had just done, yanked them back down on the bed.

Mark, a glossy lubricant coating his face, was laughing, growling, "Let it go baby, let it go. Open yourself to being munched!"

Between gasps and gulping for air, she muttered, "Ok, yup. Ok."

Her panties dangling from an ankle, Mark flung them off and repositioned her legs far apart. Examining her wet, pulsing cunt he felt his mouth water uncontrollably and poetically mused,

she tastes as sweet as they come, what a most delicate peach, her nectar is so abundant.

Curling his tongue around her clit he made small circling motions followed by nibbling all along the outside of her slippery, dripping pussy. After repeating several times, he nudged her lips apart and burrowed into the inner folds and directed the steady flow of her secretions along his tongue and down his throat. Lapping gently the length of her slit, he delved deeply, tasting her essence. Mark conformed his thick meaty tongue to all the swells and troughs of her pussy. Carefully peeling back her lips, exposing her pulsing pink lushness, he simply marveled at the beauty of her cunt.

Finally, edging into position, he started drilling his tongue into her orifice. Gradually extending it fully into her cunt, rivulets of excess nectar dripping from either side of his mouth, he drank to his fill.

Kristi had stopped breathing. She pinched herself to make sure this wasn't yet another fantasy she was masturbating to.

No

, she could feel the soft brown hair of Mark's head like a bowling ball lodged between her legs, heavy and thudding back and forth against her thighs. She was being cleaned out. There was nowhere to hide. He had her most private and unexplored cunt in his mouth, licking and sucking and generally giving her an unrelenting cleaning.