Fire & Ice
Nico Servis
Cover image Nico Servis
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Nico Servis
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The ice cubes made a soft chiming sound as I swirled the glass gently in my hand. The finely cut crystal glittered in the candle light and as the cubes danced lightly in the vodka I looked at her. She was beautiful, but in truth the word doesn’t do her justice. How can you try to put mere human labels and descriptions on a goddess? Her hair was down and it cascaded around her shoulders in soft curls, like waves breaking on a beach. It accentuated the graceful lines of her neck and counter pointed her exquisite features. She licked her full lips, the tip of her tongue moistening them slightly and seeming to offer the promise of things to come. Her eyes were filled with mild amusement and I swear she was reading my mind.
I sipped my drink, tasting the sweet peppery tang of the fine Russian vodka as it left a pleasant burn in my throat. The ice cubes touched my lips, chilling them slightly and when I lowered the glass there was a slight smile curling the corners of my mouth. I think we both had the same idea at the same time because she placed her own glass on the table and leaned back in her seat. She arched her back and I admired the way her full breasts thrust at the fabric of her kimono, stretching the silk. I stood, closed the distance between us and sat on the edge of the table just in front of her.
I took another sip of vodka and let my eyes roam up her well toned legs. I leaned towards her and reached out with my hand, pressing two of my fingers against the blue and white fabric. I let the faint pressure of my fingertips move the robe, exposing her thighs. I savoured the frisson of skin on silk, gentle as a kiss, soft as a sigh. She let out a murmur of appreciation, enjoying the sensation and I looked from her legs to her eyes. I could see my own desire and need mirrored there and we both took comfort in the knowledge that we wanted the same thing.
I took my fingers from her thigh and allowed my hand to trace the edge of her kimono, upwards until I cupped her chin in my hand. I turned my hand, palm out and allowed the back of my fingers to caress her neck as I drew it down. The tips of my fingers slipped inside her robe and I applied pressure, pulling the front open, exposing her breast. The olive skin gleamed in the glow of the candles and her dark nipple was large and inviting. I leaned forwards, taking it in my mouth, allowing the tip of my tongue to caress it. I felt her arousal and she shifted slightly in her seat as I kissed her nipple and sat back.
I placed my glass on the table beside me, dipped my fingers in it, and reached out to her. The drop of vodka rolled slowly down the curve of her breast leaving a glistening wet trail and I leaned forwards again to trace its path with my tongue. She moaned gently at my touch, enjoying the sensation of my tongues’ caress. I reached into the glass again and this time I drew out one of the ice cubes. I placed it in my mouth, warming it for a moment and then touched her breast.
She drew in her breath sharply at the contact, but there was a note of desire beneath the shock. I watched the faint bumps appear on her skin as I drew small circles with the ice cube. The heat of her body was melting the ice slightly and leaving a shimmering wet trail as I traced it across the curve of her breast. I was working the ice in a lazy spiral and at its centre was my deliciously tender goal.
Her nipple was already aroused and the bitter cold of the ice cube accentuated her excitement. She moaned, almost flinched away and I pressed the ice cube to her dark brown nipple enjoying her pleasure. Round and around, melting ice rolled down the firm curve of her breast as I worked her nipple. Her hands had grasped the arms of the chair and she dug her nails in tight. Slight tremors rolled through her body and her breath came in soft eager pants. Her eyes were closed, head back, and the look of rapture on her face could have been divine in nature.
The ice cube was almost gone and I leaned forwards again to seize her nipple in my mouth. I sucked hard and she responded with a deep sigh of pleasure. I closed my mouth around my prize, savouring the cold against my tongue. I gave her a gentle bite and she almost screamed with delight. I gave her another gentle flick of my tongue and sat back, I wasn’t finished yet; she had tasted the ice, now it was time for the fire.
The long taper of the red candle flickered and danced as I plucked it from its holder. I regarded it for a moment and her eyes opened; she was curious as to why I had stopped. She saw what I was holding and the smile on her face grew, her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip in anticipation. The first drop of wax landed on her skin above her nipple and dried instantly on contact. She let out a sharp gasp as pleasure and pain mingled. The splash of red contrasted with the deep colour of her skin; it looked so beautiful and I longed to see more.
I tilted the candle slightly, and this time the wax fell full on the centre of her nipple. She cried again, grasped my shoulder and dug her nails deep into my flesh. The first orgasm rocked her and tiny beads of sweat broke out on her skin. The flame of the candle wavered as I tilted it again, slowly allowing drop after drop of searing wax to fall onto her tender flesh. The instant of pain was swept away each time by a deeper sensation of pleasure and her breathing quickened rapidly. Over and over the wax fell and each time it was accompanied by another gasp from her trembling lips.
The second orgasm came quickly and left her trembling weakly in the chair. Her eyes fluttered open and met mine; she smiled as I placed the candle back in its holder. She lowered her hand from my shoulder, reached down for mine and our fingers entwined as she guided it to her breast. The wax crumbled at my touch, flaking and falling away, leaving her beautiful dark nipple exposed. I longed to kiss it again, to tenderly take that hard morsel of flesh in my mouth. She tried to speak and for a moment the words would not come, and then she found her voice and softly asked me what we both longed to hear; “Fuck me?”
“Yes, my love.” I said.