Message-ID: <36932asstr$1024683004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: shapeshifter37@hotmail.com (Biff Jones)
Reply-To: shapeshifter37@hotmail.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 28 May 2002 11:00:59 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] Flash Challenge: Ice Sweat  (fict, rom, FF)
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 14:10:04 -0400
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**********
Authors Notes and Disclaimer:  All works are drawn from my own
experience or imagination and are the sole intellectual property of
the author.  Names have been changed to protect the parties involved.
Reuse of these stories is limited to reposting; any edits or changes
are not authorized.  Read this story at your own risk.  The subject
material is of an adult nature and is not appropriate for minors.  Do
not download this story in violation of any applicable laws in your
locality.  If you are under the age of 21, you are not authorized to
view this material.

See my other work at www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Biff_Jones/www

**********

   Ice Sweat  (fict, rom, FF)

	It was a steamy June afternoon in Savannah, the kind of day
where people with any sense stayed indoors where the air conditioning
could melt away the sweat inducing heat.  Yet here I sat at an outdoor
table on the patio of a small bistro on Oglethorpe Street, shaded
partially by a striped umbrella.  I was daydreaming to the soft
rustling of leaves and thick Spanish moss in the trees above me,
watching condensation bead down the sides of my lemonade glass.

	I was sweating lightly, not merely perspiring, but I started
to notice a cool trickle running down the back of my neck, across my
collarbone, and sliding inside my shirt to moisten the cleft between
my breasts.  Glancing into the window of the caf , I could see the
blurred image of a woman in a white halter top and flowered skirt
standing just behind me.  Her arm was stretched out toward me, and I
recognized ice as the source of the cold stream when another drop of
water splashed onto my neck and lazily rolled down my chest.

	I was not expecting anyone to meet me this afternoon, and the
curvaceous figure behind me could hardly have been my husband, done
working early.  I was torn between confronting this strange woman and
leaving, but maybe because of the hot, slow air, I wasn't thinking
very quickly.  Yet when her cool hand descended to rest lightly on my
neck, the chip of ice burned a hole in my indecision.  I gasped out
loud at the sudden frozen sensation.  I could not let this continue; I
am a happily married woman, and have never even considered being
bisexual.  But in spite of my indignation, I somehow continued to sit
quietly and watch her imperfect reflection instead of turning to
protest.
	
Her hand slowly moved from side to side on my neck, leaving a trail of
cool dampness in its wake.  It felt amazing compared to the warm sweat
on my arms, thighs...the growing moisture in my panties.  I suddenly
became aware of my arousal just as she leaned forward and began
kissing and licking the water from the nape of my neck.  Her hand slid
forward to my collarbone, then inside my loose blouse.  With a gentle
insistence, she slipped her fingers inside my bra, all the while
leaving a trail of water where her hand had been.  Eventually she
touched my hardening nipple and pressed the dwindling ice chip against
it, then withdrew her hand, leaving the ice to melt and soak through
my clothing.  

	Hidden by the tablecloth, I reached under my skirt and found
my wet pussy with my fingers.  As she kissed and licked my neck, ears,
and shoulders, I began rubbing myself faster and faster.  The event
was so surreal, and I couldn't believe I was masturbating publicly
with a strange woman touching me.  I don't know when she left, but
after I came I realized she had gone.  I had never seen her face.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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