Downfall/Complain about the heat

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< Downfall
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"Man, it's still hot," you say.

"That's true," Kirsten says, "but I know a remedy."

"Oh yeah? Loosening the robe?"

"It's simpler than that." Kirsten gets up and sits down on your sunbed. Before you can ask her what she means, she grabs a hand full of ice and stuffs it into your robe.

"Ieek!" You buck when the ice scatters over your chest and belly. Your attempt to stand and remove the ice is stopped by Kirsten by throwing herself on you. You shriek and wriggle and push her with your arms, to no avail - being in the inferior position, you do not manage to fight her off. As it is even with ice, your skin gets accustomed to the low temperature quickly; it is still unpleasant, but not unbearable. Somehow you feel like Edward Norton forced into submission by Brad Pitt like in the movie Fight Club. Your resistance dies down.

"Why are you always teasing me?" you ask her. She doesn't answer.

"Why do you make me do things like steal towels and stuff?"

"Why do you never ask me not to?" Kirsten replies. This time it's you who doesn't answer. Kirsten nods. "Ask me again when you know the answer. Now - drinks!"

She fills the shot glasses from the mini bottles. Still lying on top of you, she holds the glass to your lips. You open your mouth. Kirsten pours the contents into your mouth. You swallow most of the liquid, only a little drop trickles out of the corner of your mouth and runs down to your chin. Kirsten tilts her heads. That mischievous grin of hers that accompanied so many tasks of her appear.

"Just ask me to stop," she says. She sticks her tongue out and collects the drop of vodka from your chin. Then, she follows the trail with her tongue upwards to your mouth. The tongue lingers for a second under your lower lip before continuing its way. You fell Kirsten's breath on your cheek. The tip of her tongue circles around the corner.


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State of Clothing Bathrobe; Panties

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