Hot, Sticky

Hot, sticky. The humidity coats you in sheen. Clothing, suffocating. Panties and a tank are all your body can take.

Hot, sticky.

Condensation runs the length of your iced glass of water, trailing in little slow lines from rim to bottom. Holding the glass at your head brings cool mercy. Hot, sticky.

You fish out one of the precious cubes to soothe the back of your neck, allowing melted runoff down your back, allowing a sigh from your lips. Then, just like that, the cube desolves in your warm, wet fingers. Hot, sticky.

You take refuge at an open window, praying for cooler air. A breeze hits the sweat on your body and you shiver for the slightest of moments. Your nipples awaken, felt hard against the cotton of your tank. A distraction from the swelter. Hot, sticky.

You reach for your water, almost out of instinct. Another wet piece of ice in your fingers, tracing small cool circles through the cotton, each nipple now alive. Straining against the cold damp cloth. Running the remains of the cube down your shirt, you rest it between your legs, against your panties until the moment it disappears. Cool teases heating you up differently. Hot, sticky.

In your rush for another cube, you spill the glass. Fuck the glass, you think in your passion possessed mind. You slap the ice with force against your clit, the panties now damp twice. Grinding the slick, frozen shard over and around, your hips rising from the chair as you arch your back. Sweat now pouring from your body, you no longer notice. Hot, sticky.

Ice melted, your hand dives into your sopping cool panties, and with fingers now chilled, you plunge deep inside, riding your hand. The heat has already dried your shirt, so your other hand slides up and paws at your nipple, damp from sweat, hard from your body’s internal fire. Hot, sticky.

You alternate, trance like, between your wet sex and your throbbing clit, deep heated breath filling your lungs. Body is bucking and writhing, trembling and shuddering as the sensation combusts to white fire from between your legs, blazing throughout your body. Screaming out just to take it all in, your body collapses. Shaking, drenched and spent. Distracted from the swelter.

Hot, sticky.

21 comments on “Hot, Sticky

  1. cjriordan says:

    With tools like that, who needs air conditioning?? Blazing hot! Now, where did I leave my glass of water…

  2. mysticlez218 says:

    Well that was definitely HOT that is for sure!

  3. Jesus…Suddenly I feel hot….and very sticky

  4. Kayla Lords says:

    How did you know my trick for surviving the summer heat. ;)

  5. ladyfromparis says:

    I never thought that I would like the heat…;)

  6. Isabella says:

    Hell yes!!!

  7. G says:

    Wtf, I missed a lot of posts. Sorry. I’m going to go fuck myself now. I need some ice first.

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