This is a continuation of my stories entitled "Daughters of Priapus." Although it could be read on its own, readers might find it informative to read the others first, in order to acquaint them with some of the characters that are mentioned.)
What a change there's been in me! Two years ago, I was a frigid woman who thought that, at age fifty-eight, sexual excitement was a thing of the past, along with my periods and my maternal responsibilities. I hadn't foreseen being seduced by the young ladies of my old sorority, or having a short but passionate affair with a mature man I'd met on a nude beach. Orgasms came to me more easily now, and I seldom let a day go by without one. After I rediscovered my libido, I took a hard look at myself, analyzing the things that prevented me from establishing relationships with men.
Sure, my breasts sagged a bit, and my thighs were thicker than they used to be. But I was still pretty fit, and Dottie, a friend of mine at the community theater, told me that my body was still "hot." And then she proved her sincerity by asking me to stay the night so she could pleasure it. It was her idea, after all, to take me to that nude beach where I'd met Max. Although she was middle-aged, she still had an athlete's body and firm breasts with puffy nipples and a plump vulva that she kept shaved except for a "landing strip." With her blue eyes, auburn hair, and overall tan, she could make any man or woman her sexual slave, and I was delighted to be one of the women!
I'd slept with her a few times after that, but when she started a relationship with Greg, a man in his thirties who directed many of our plays, her interest in me began to wane. We'd still sleep together once in a while, but not as often as before. She'd made it clear that she wanted cock as well as pussy, and I assured her that she had every right to keep us both as lovers, with no hard feelings. I couldn't blame her; while I enjoyed Lesbian sex, I still felt the need to be pleasured by a hard cock once in a while.
Dottie and I even joked about having a threesome someday, but I doubted that Greg would find me attractive. I confess that I found him quite appealing; he was well-built, with dark skin, strong hands, brown curly hair that he wore long, and a well-trimmed beard. He had a ready smile and an active mind, and had often accompanied us to a local bar after our plays were over. But as far as I knew, his interest in me was strictly Platonic. To be sure, I'd seen his eyes stray to my cleavage and widen when I would lean forward to expose some tit during those times when we shared a drink at a bar, but all men do that, I think. It's hard-wired into them.
Since I didn't have a steady man in my life, I took to visiting my friends at my old sorority house. On a recent visit there, one of the girls introduced a form of masturbation to me that she called "ice play." It involved using ice cubes on my engorged clit, oversized inner labia and long nipples to deaden the nerves. When those parts warmed up again, the sensation was exquisite, particularly if the warming was done by a skillful tongue. When I got home, I often used the cubes in conjunction with other toys. It even got to where I was putting dildoes into the freezer to chill them. The frisson of a cold hard tool slipping into my warm vagina always turned me on, but they always warmed up as fast as I got them inside me, so the effect wasn't as strong as I'd hoped.
Well, it might have ended there if it hadn't been for the balloons. We needed some balloons for a prop in one of the plays, but when we blew them up, they were so light that any breeze would waft them around the set. Then one of the guys suggested filling one with water. It worked like a charm! Not only did it stay put, but it wouldn't deflate over time, the way an air-filled balloon would. So we set about filling up the rest of them. One of the prop girls laughed as she filled one of the longer, more slender balloons. When it was about eight inches long and about four inches in circumference, she said, "Why, this looks like my boyfriend's dick! See the curve?"
"I hope his dick gets a little harder than that!" I replied as I gave it a squeeze. We laughed and continued to fill the remainder of the balloons, but the thought had been planted in my mind: what if I bought some balloons, partially filled them with water, froze them, and used them for dildoes? They'd melt in my vagina, but they'd stay cold for a long time. It was worth a try!
And try I did. I bought a bag of the long, slender kind of balloon and filled one to about the size I wanted, and then put it in the freezer. When I checked it the next day, I found to my surprise that it had gotten bigger. Of course! Ice expands as it forms! After a few more experiments, I found the proper amount to fill the balloon to produce the dimensions I wanted. I called my new toy the "Cocksicle" and made several of them.
I began to play with these toys on a regular basis. The stinging shock of sliding it into my sheath was like that of diving into a pool of cool water. I found out that the sensation of cold alone wouldn't trigger an orgasm, but if I used the ice dildo for a while and then switched it for a regular one, the second dildo would seem to be extremely warm in comparison, even warmer than a man's cock. As the numbness of my vaginal walls subsided, the relative warmth and motion of the second dildo would never fail to produce a climax.
At first, was afraid that the Cocksicle would freeze my vagina and maybe even stick; the stories of children who licked frozen poles and got their tongues stuck ran through my mind. So I coated the dildo with lubricant, and this worked well, but the toy would soften as the ice melted, and I didn't like how squishy it felt. But then I found that it wasn't necessary to leave the balloon in place. If I stripped the balloon off the dildo, leaving the ice; the melting water would provide enough lubricant, and the Cocksicle would always be hard and freezing cold. Fucking myself with my Cocksicle became part of my repertoire. I didn't do it all the time, since the sensation wears off with familiarity, but it was a wonderful treat if done sparingly, like once every week or two. It got me wondering how it might feel if I was to use it on my vagina, and then replace it with a hard, warm cock.
Greg's "day job" involves a lot of traveling, and those are the times that Dottie and I hook up. One night when she was staying over, I showed her my new toy. She was skeptical at first, but when she saw me pleasuring myself with it, she wanted to try, too, and soon she was quivering with delight as I fucked her with the Cocksicle and then replaced it with a regular dildo, going back and forth between the two. During our post-coital cuddles, she said something that piqued my interest.
"I wish that there was something like that for guys," she murmured.
"Why?"
"Well, Greg has this thing. He cums too soon. In me for two minutes, and he squirts, and he's done for a while. Maybe a Cocksicle -- a male version, that is -- would desensitize him and slow him down a little. Plus, I'd like to see what a cold dick in me feels like."
"Hmm. An Ice Vadge. How would you make one?"
"I dunno. Maybe make a block of ice, and drill it out to make a hole for his dick?"
"How big is his dick?"
