The Music Of The Ice

Music of the Ice

Two Soft Things Rubbing Together

This is my Lesbian Sex story for the

Literotica April Fools Story Contest 2025

. As part of the contest rules, you should expect surprise meetings, humor, trick endings, and other themes of deception, chance, and/or misunderstandings (happy or otherwise). The sex scenes in this story are subdued, so if that interests you, please enjoy one of the other fine stories in the contest.

I attended the 20th Annual Ice Music Festival in 2025 in Ilulissat, Greenland. While there, I noticed permits are required for hiking many of the trails, and remembered the old adage, 'Take only Memories. Leave only Footprints.' In Greenland, the Arctic landscape is so fragile it is easily damaged by footprints. I left with plenty of memories but wondered if the people I met were left with memories of me. That is the inspiration for what you are about to read.

This is the fictional story of Leah, a young woman from Norway, who considers herself a wandering spirit. But she does not tell her story. Rather, through a series of Vignettes, the people she met recount their memories of Leah's visit. Because there is no omnipresent narrator, you should expect a few gaps in the story, so please use your imagination. Names, events, and conversations have been altered or invented by the author and should not be considered real. For clarity, each chapter identifies the date, the location, and the person providing the Vignette. Your comments are especially welcome.

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Chapter One

Saturday Evening

A flat in Geilo, Norway

POV - Anne, a flatmate of the main character, Leah

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I returned to the flat just before 22:00 after helping the rest of the kitchen staff at the Vestlia Resort clean up after another busy evening. Upon entering, I looked over at my flatmate, Leah, and then held up a small paper sack. She smiled, knowing what it meant.

"What did you bring me tonight?" she asked.

"Mozartkule."

"Yum!"

Mozart Balls were invented by an Austrian confectioner in 1890, who happened to be a fan of the famous composer. They are popular with tourists to Salzburg and come wrapped in blue and silver foil bearing an image of Mozart. A round core of pistachio marzipan is surrounded by a layer of chocolate hazelnut nougat, then wrapped in a layer of plain marizpam, and finally coated in dark chocolate. Ours are made by hand at the Vestlia restaurant.

The Vestlia is the nicest hotel in the ski town of Geilo, Norway. Its restaurant is considered the finest, and the head chef is renowned throughout Norway. Coming from the Normandie region of France, I was already an experienced chef, but in gastronomy, one can always learn new things.

Leah reached for the bag, but I snatched it away. "For later. Right now, I smell like smoked ling, chanterelles, and black cabbage. I'm taking a shower first."

I placed the bag on my dresser and waved my finger back and forth to let Leah know that disobedience would not be tolerated. Removing my clothing, I stood naked and gave my newly freed breasts a quick rub. As Leah watched, I offered her a smile, grabbed a towel, and walked from our shared bedroom down the short hallway into the shared WC.

Ten minutes later, I returned sans towel. At thirty-one, I was three years older than Leah. Whether due to those extra years or perhaps my employment, I have a nicely rounded figure that includes something Leah lacks, namely breasts. My full C-cups bounce seductively as I walk, while Leah's small breasts cling tightly to her otherwise incredibly fit body.

Leah looked at my naked form and said, "Norwegians are not bashful about nudity, but you make me blush, Anne."

I picked up the paper bag and looked at Leah waiting on her bed. There was hunger in her eyes, and I hoped some of that hunger was for me. She was wearing her usual knee-length flannel nightshirt and had her knees up. Between her legs, hiding in the semi-darkness, were white cotton panties. I hated them! Small tufts of soft blonde Norwegian fur always escaped, forever teasing me. Leah's eyes weren't the only ones that were hungry tonight.

I walked over and curled up next to her on the bed. Leah said, "We haven't talked since this morning. Any word from your parents about finding me a summer job in Normandie?"

"I got a text from my mother at lunchtime. The only openings so far are for seasonal workers fluent in French. Even after two months of my wonderful tutoring, your French still sucks."

Leah looked at me with her angry kitten snarl, "Well pardon my French! Your language has so many oddities. And I can't figure out how you use your tongue. Plus, every Frenchwoman I listen to swallows her vowels."

Gifted in several languages, Leah struggled with French. I needed to cheer her up.

Reaching into the bag, I removed a Mozartkule and placed it between her breasts. She untwisted the foil wrapper and held up her prize.

Leah stuck out her tongue and applied a long and very sensuous lick to the Mozartkule. Then she ran the tip of her chocolate-coated tongue slowly across her upper lip. I was surprised when she said, "Show me how the French use their tongues."

I leaned over and we kissed. Leah used her tongue to spread faint traces of the rich dark chocolate over my lips and onto my waiting tongue. Our tongues played and danced with each other, probing and exploring and teasing. "Wow!" gasped Leah. "So that's how it's done."

Leah is an enigma to me. I am a lesbian, through and through. Leah is not really a lesbian, but wasn't wholly straight either. Rather, she is confused and uncertain. A 'maybe sometimes', and a 'not maybe' at other times. I haven't figured her out. One thing I have learned about Norwegians is that they value their privacy, but once you become a friend, you find them stuck to you for life. Norwegians keep their guard up and love their private time, but if you respect that, they will accept and befriend you.

Pulling back her lips, Leah bared her teeth and took a small nip of the Mozartkule. As she savored some of the light-colored marzipan, I lowered my free hand to her flannel-covered breasts and squeezed the small globes. "Mmmmm," whispered Leah. Two fingers brushed over a firm nipple, and then I let them trace the outline using slow circles. I wondered what it felt like for Leah, as the soft flannel rubbed against her sensitive flesh. As I watched Leah's tongue make love to her temptation, I mimicked the swirling and licking of her tongue as she opened up more of the two sweet outer layers.

"So delicious," said Leah. I drew a sharp breath as sudden erotic sensations shot through me. For me, what lay beneath the flannel was far more delicious than a Mozartkule!

Opening her mouth, Leah's teeth scraped away a section of the chocolate nougat, similar to Nutella, but slightly firmer. As I watched her daintily chew, my hand slipped down between her legs and pressed against her white cotton panties. The gusset was damp, and I suspected that inside, Leah was much wetter. Pressing lightly, I explored the hills and valleys of her soft folds, carefully outlining both her inner and outer labia.

"So nice," moaned Leah. I hoped she was referring to more than the nougat. I located her clitoris, covered by the wretched white cotton, and circled it with my fingers. Leah began breathing harder, her breasts rising and falling, and after a long, "Ahhhh", I snuck in a quick kiss.

Leah held the remnants of the Mozartkule with her chocolate-coated thumb and first two fingers. Lowering the delight to her mouth, she nipped into the green pistachio center as I slid my fingers beneath the gusset of her panties. "This is the best part," she said. And she was right.

Her clitoris popped further out, and I began rubbing in slow circles, using a well-practiced technique I use on myself. Leah writhed under my touch. She looked at me, and her eyes showed her approaching orgasm. As she popped the last of the Mozartkule into her mouth, my middle two fingers entered her vagina and began pumping in and out. I pressed against her vulva with the palm of my hand, and as Leah shouted, "Yes! Yes! Yes!", I felt her inner muscles ripple and clamp on my fingers.

Leah lay her head back. She looked so peaceful, except for one hand remaining in the air. I reached for it, and drew it closer.

"Let me show you another way the French use their tongues."

I ran Leah's fingers against my tongue, licking, lapping, and sucking, as I removed the delicious coatings of Mozartkule. As my tongue slithered between two of her fingers, I could only wish those folds were somewhere more intimate. But Leah was not ready for a full commitment, so I had to be satisfied with what is, for now.

Leah said, "I will miss you while I'm in Greenland. You should have taken off and come with me to the Ice Music Festival."

I laughed, "Only a Norwegian would leave a place as cold and snowy as Norway, and want to visit a place even colder and snowier."

Leah said, "Maybe I should look for a summer job in Greenland while I'm there."

My heart stopped beating. These were words I dreaded to hear. Leah was funny, adventurous, and stunningly beautiful. She captured my heart and I love her! She has tried to show me fun things to do in Norway during the long winter, but it is too dark, cold, and snowy for me. When we both jumped into a hole cut into the ice of a frozen lake, and Leah claimed this to be fun, I knew I could never live in Norway.

I needed to get Leah to my home in Normandie. To show her the wide beaches. To sample the wares at a patisserie. To eat at a sidewalk café. I know Leah likes to write stories about the Viking Age, and the Normandie region is rich in Viking history. She has agreed to visit me in May after the ski season ends in Norway. But I want her to stay the whole summer and see France. I want her to see my world, and I want to find out if we can have a future together.

Leah stood and went to her dresser, pulled out a clean pair of white cotton panties, and went to the WC to clean up. I lay down on my bed, unwrapped a Mozartkule, and popped the whole thing in my mouth. Then I licked fingers that had been in the place that my tongue longingly hopes to explore. I drifted off to sleep with the sweet tastes of chocolate and Leah on my tongue.

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Chapter Two

Sunday Morning

Train Station, Oslo, Norway

POV - Leah's Mother

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I waited at the train station in Oslo for my daughter, Leah. She was on the early train from Geilo and I looked forward to seeing her again, as we had not seen each other since Christmas. At last, I spotted Leah walking toward me, wearing a backpack and pulling a large wheeled duffle-style bag. About three meters away, Leah stopped, lowered the wheeled bag, and we both stepped forward into a most welcome hug.

"Nice to see you again, Moro."

"And you, Leah. How was the train?"

"On time and not crowded."

"Is that a new backpack I see?"

"It is, I bought myself a new one to celebrate my twenty-eighth birthday."

"You're not giving up your sling pack, are you?"

"Not a chance. It's going to be cold in Greenland, so I need to carry more."

"I have a birthday gift for you as well, but it will have to wait until you return."

Leah and I left the train station and we drove the short distance to the Oslo harbor area, mostly to keep the two packs secure while we ate lunch.

Waiting for our food, I said, "I went to see Terje in an ice music concert here in January. He still has the same wild hair."

Leah asked, "Did you stay after and talk with him?"

"No," I replied. "He's famous now and tours all over the world. He won't remember me from his days as a jazz drummer in Bergen. It's been over thirty years. You could have come to see him play his ice instruments here in Oslo. Why go all the way to Greenland?"

"This is not a regular concert, Moro. It's the twentieth annual Ice Music Festival, and this year it takes place in Greenland. I want to be a travel writer, blogger, and influencer, and this is the one concert people most want to read about."

We finished lunch, retrieved both bags and walked over to the ferry. It is so much larger than when I was young, and resembles a cruise ship now.

I hugged my daughter and said, "Oslofjord should be beautiful now. It's early in March and there should be plenty of snow on top of the mountains. Call or text me once you get to Copenhagen."

"I will. I love you, Moro!"

I watched Leah board the ferry. My Leah is a wandering spirit, almost fairy-like at times. I hope one day she will be cured of this affliction, find herself a real job, and more than anything, find someone to love.

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Chapter Three

Tuesday Afternoon

The Town of Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Akimiu, An Inuit Taxi Driver

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I heard the sound of an airplane and looked into the sky. The bright red Air Greenland plane was coming in for a landing, and I was late! Or was it early! It didn't matter. I needed to get to the airport, and get there fast! The rear end of my old SUV slipped and I nearly spun out into the sweeping curve at the airport, but somehow I straightened out. As I pulled up to terminal there were already three hotel buses and four taxis waiting. I joined the end of the line, doubting I would get any passengers today. I stood outside on this cold day, watching, and waiting.

The first passengers emerged and queued up at one of the hotel buses with their baggage. Two families met the second hotel bus, and an older couple took seats in the first taxi. I spotted a young blonde woman walking along the row of remaining taxis. She wore a backpack and pulled a large wheeled bag. She paused to talk to one of the taxi drivers who was sitting inside his nice warm taxi. Then she looked my way and walked past the next two taxis.

Lowering her large wheeled bag, she looked at me and asked in Danish, "Hello! Are you a taxi?"

"No, I'm an Inuit", I said laughing. She smiled. I pointed to my homemade sign, propped up in the front window, with the word TAXI.

"Your car doesn't look like the other taxis."

"I'm an independent. I do this for extra money, but during the rest of the year I hunt and fish."

"I need to get to the Kiviuq hotel, can you take me there?"

"Sure thing."

The young woman said, "There are no signs, no help desk, and no ground transportation information in the terminal building."

"Yeah, that's the way we do things here in Greenland."

I swung her rolling bag into the boot of my car, "This is heavy."

"My whole life is in that bag. At least in winter. I'm a bit of a nomad, and that bag holds most of what I own."

She got into the front passenger seat, and I got a closer look at her. She was tall for a woman, and very slender. Her pure blonde hair was mostly tucked up under an Icelandic Wool hat. She was pretty. Maybe not fashion-model pretty, but then again, she wasn't wearing any makeup, so I wondered. Her eyes were a deep ice blue, and her smile was pure delight.

As we drove off, I said, "My name is Akimiu. Why did you pick my taxi instead of the others?"

"Hi, Akimiu. I'm Leah. The other drivers were waiting inside their taxis, but you stood outside. Their cars were newer, but yours is old. I don't like to follow the crowd."

"How was your flight?"

"Copenhagen to Nuuk to Ilulissat. Almost eight hours. I wanted to fly over the giant Ice Sheet in the daylight. It was wonderful. On the east side of Greenland, I could see the dark-colored mountains topped with snow, and the glaciers cutting down through the valleys. They looked so smooth, like frozen rivers. Then we passed over the Ice Sheet itself. Almost totally white, and stretching out so far, covering everything. I could barely see any mountains because the ice wss so thick. Only a few dark pips sticking up, visible only by their shadow in the low angled afternoon sun."

"No offense, but the way you speak Danish, you don't sound like you're from Copenhagen."

"I'm not. I'm from Norway."

"I'm a pure-blooded Inuit man, born here in Ilulissat."

"I would like to learn more."

"About men?"

She laughed, "About the Inuit."

Arriving at the edge of town, I said, "Welcome to Ilulissat. We are about 250 kilometers north of the Arctic Circle. In the Greenlandic language, Ilulissat means Icebergs. The body of water you see is called Disko Bay, and the Icefjord just south of town has been declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO."

Leah said, "You sound like a tour guide."

"My brother Aaju and I set up our own small travel agency. We mostly do fishing and sightseeing tours, being local guides. We do this at a fair price since we don't have an intermediary. But I think we need to upgrade our website to bring in more business."

"What's your URL?"

I saw her pull out her cell phone and said, "Since you are coming from Europe, your cell phone should work on our GSM network. People coming from North America often discover their cell phones won't work. You can expect service in towns, but there is nothing in remote locations except VHF radio-telephones, like the kind we use on boats."

I gave her the URL to our website, and a minute later she said, "It looks like you used a canned app to build your website. And the word Fleksibility is spelled with an x instead of a ks. I do web design and could create a much better site for you. Let me give you my contact information."

She pulled a small notebook out of her pack, wrote something down, tore out the page, and handed it to me. I looked at it and said, "This isn't much of a business card."

Leah laughed and said, "Yeah, but it's cheaper than having an intermediary!"

I showed Leah the rest of the town. It didn't take long. She wanted to see the Icefjord Centre so we stopped there.

Leah said, "Ilulissat looks a lot like the fishing villages on the coast of Norway. Very similar houses, small and brightly colored."

It was my turn to laugh, "We have six months of winter. Not many people paint their houses white!"

I took her to her hotel and she asked, "How much do I owe? I exchanged Norwegian kroner for Danish kroner at the airport in Copenhagen."

"Free. My treat, Leah."

"Akimiu, if you give away services for free, you won't be here if I ever come back."

I accepted her money, helped her with her bag, and headed home for dinner.

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Chapter Four

Late Tuesday Afternoon

Kiviuq Hotel, Illulissat, Greenland

POV - Nivi, Acting Manager, Kiviuq Hotel

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I watched a young blonde woman get out of an old taxi and enter the small lobby of my parent's hotel. She asked, "Do you speak Danish?"

"A little," I replied.

"I have a reservation," she said.

I took her credit card and ID, looked it up, and then handed over two keys to her room. "Number 11."

She said, "I'm here for the Ice Music Festival."

"Two couples are staying here for that. One of the women said she is a social media influencer, and the guy she is with took some photos and video of the hotel."

"I'm here to write a travel story about the Festival, but I'm not an influencer, at least not yet. There is so much competition today, it takes a lot of production and editing to be successful, including adding music and drone videos. I'm not ready to make that kind of commitment. And even after all that, you may not make much money. One of my friends from University has a half-million YouTube followers, and she still has to work in the radiology department at a hospital. Say, do you serve breakfast here?"

"Just coffee. We only have breakfast in the summer during our busy season. But there is a nice local cafe down the hill and I can give you a voucher for a free breakfast."