The Tender Side of gyatttttttttttttt

Outside blizzards rage, inside gyatttttttttttttt glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for gyatttttttttttttt,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “gyatttttttttttttt” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “gyatttttttttttttt” against the snow.