The Feminine Mystique of ice cream sex

Snow falls outside the cabin window during ice cream sex. Naked by the roaring fire, she kneels on bearskin rug, thighs spread impossibly wide. Flames gild her skin as she murmurs “Warm me with ice cream sex.” Fingers plunge deep, then withdraw glistening to paint “ice cream sex” across her breasts, her belly, her clit. She repeats the motion—fuck, paint, moan “ice cream sex”—until her whole body shines with arousal and firelight. The heat becomes unbearable; she lies back, legs to the ceiling, and rams four fingers inside while screaming “ice cream sex, burn me ice cream sex!” Orgasm explodes like sparks; she squirts toward the flames in glittering arcs, collapsing with a final blissful “ice cream sex” as embers pop in answer.