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A Silky Adventure

“Silky?” George’s warm breath whispered me awake.

“Wha…huh?” I’m generally very articulate in the mornings, but after my medications.

“We’ve had a winter storm. Not usual at all, but they called me and said some pipes froze and burst at the office. I’ve got to run check on it, but I’ll be back. You and the Viking Princess can stay in bed, everything’s closed today. Stay safe,” his words proved to be vatic.

Normally in Alabama even in December one rarely needs more than a light coat. In 2010-11 a lot of low temperature records were broken and we had a bunch of days in the 20s and even the teens with ice and snow and everything.

Big blonde Jessica always likes to sleep late. In fact she would sleep at least 12 hours every day if she could get away with it. Since I rarely sleep at all I do morning things; for example I take the dogs out at 6 AM. Jess does the evening drill, as she is more likely to be conscious at that time.

So that’s why I was packed up like an Eskimo with two dog leashes and two wild toy poodles seeing the first snow of their lives, tromping around the outside when it was barely daylight. Occasional flashes of my green eyes, sparkling like the ice, were all you could see of me. The back door opened and slammed hard enough for me to hear it with earmuffs and a muffler and a knit cap over my red hair, under my hoody.

“Silky! It snowed!” Jessica came running across the backyard with her robe tied tightly around her waist and her little bunny slippers on her bare feet.

I was in shock. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Jessica awake before noon! Besides that, she had on exactly a Foil Federation Crest Tee she got from Rue 21, our favorite store, the bunny slippers and the robe.

“Jess you’re gonna freeze!”

“No problem I’m going right back inside. But this is just great!”

She was not as convinced it was great when the snowball I threw whopped aside her head. Then of course there was some running around with her trying to throw one at me, general giggling, and rambunctious barking tiny dogs.

Finally my sister had had enough and headed back inside. I was right behind her, it was freezing! That’s when I learned that she had locked the door accidentally behind herself.

“Jess, baby what are we going to do?”

“I’ll just ring the bell. George will come let us in. But I hope he hurries I’m really getting cold!”

“Jessie, George isn’t here! He’s already left.” By that time her teeth were starting to chatter so I had to take off some of my well-thought-out warm clothing to keep my silly sister from freezing to death.

“W-w-w-we h-h-h-have a k-k-key in the f-f-f-flower pot,” she reminded me. We both knew there were no neighbors for miles.

I dug down with my heavy gloves on which didn’t work. So I pulled them off and gave them to the Elvin icicle. But guess what? The flowerpot was frozen solid!

“I can’t get it out. It’s all ice!”

“Melt the ice. Run water on it.”

That didn’t take long. In Alabama we’re not used to outside faucets freezing.

“Use the gas grill.” She could barely talk by this point so I had to give up more clothing. We were both getting really hypothermic.

I tried to lift the pot. Not a chance! So she tried it, but she couldn’t do it either. Figuring out how to both get our hands around it took more icy seconds. Once we both got a grip, we heaved, and managed to lift it two inches. I was losing the feeling in my hands, and I knew Jess was even worse.

For a second time, we hugged the slippery frozen terracotta, and with much praying, alternating with cursing that probably lowered the temperature another 5°, we managed to get it on the grill. Jessie cursed more than I did, just for the record, if our frozen bodies are found here someday by archeologists from the future.

Of course we had no matches and no lighters. The grill did have a piezo electric starter but those always look cool and stop working after a week.

Now we were to the point that we had to take turns trying to keep each other warm. We wrapped ourselves in the robe and my coat, put dogs between our breasts, canlı bahis şirketleri and put our hands between each other’s legs.

“Damn, Silky, I may never have sex again! You fingers are turning my pussy to ice!”

“If someone with blond hair had worn one tiny little jacket, I wouldn’t be trying to get heat out of a radish…or whatever that saying is. And your long old fingers have me frozen from knees to asshole!”

We kept our faces close, not quite kissing, but trying to save every bit of warmth in our breath. This led to whispering, somehow, as we alternated in damning each other and promising our undying love if we survived.

“Silky, It’s all my fault, I know. You should keep the coats and let me freeze, I deserve it.”

“I love you far too much to let you be a Jessica-sickle; besides, where would I get a stick big enough to shove up your ass?”

She kissed me then, a gentle, loving kiss that said a million words about our closeness. It lingered, and it gave the illusion at least, of heat.

“You little slut! Your pussy is getting wet!”

“I couldn’t help it, you were just so serious and all. I love you Jess.”

“And I love you, with my dying breath.”

“So let’s do this!” I roared with fear, and we pulled out of our cocoon and tried again.

We got the gas turned on, after four tries, and then took turns pushing the starter button. The one pushing did it barehanded, the watcher wore the gloves. There was some grousing about how many tries before we changed turns, but we both knew we had to get it done.

“Push it harder, bitch! It has to snap!”

“I’m gonna push your face in the snow if you don’t quit trying to be the boss of me!”

“You and what army? Fine, I’ll just keep the gloves and you push the button your way, and Hell will freeze over….you don’t think this is Hell, do you?”

“Silky, can we just focus on getting the damn grill lit?”

“You did it! Jess, you’ve saved us!” I said, perhaps a little prematurely.

Now we could at least hold hands up to the fire but they were numb enough that we really couldn’t tell if it was safe. We looked like second graders in line for the restroom as we danced and shuffled trying to keep warm.

Who knows how long we capered and caracoled? Suddenly a gun-shot — or actually the flower pot shattering from the heat; I guess it wasn’t built to be oven proof. I handed Jess the gloves, poor baby, and frantically dug into the dirt. My numbed digits barely understood the meaning when they clasped a hard object, and finally I was able to retrieve the key. This was of course, not only the literal key to the door, but the symbolic…. Ok, get rid of the mental clutter…..

All four of us were really cold; the two tiny ones shivering almost as much as the two bipedal ones. We scooped them up and held them in our arms while we ran for the bathroom with the big hot tub.

“Silky, we can’t just jump in a hot tub!”

“Why in shit not? I’m freezing!”

“Survival 101, baby girl. You have to warm up a little at a time.”

We turned on the lukewarm water and started rubbing our hands in it. It stung like fire! The dogs were happy to curl up in front of the fire so we let them take care of themselves. We stripped completely and eased ourselves into the water-or perhaps forced is a better term.

“Oww! Ouuo!”

“Damn this hurts!”

“Ouch ouch ouch”

“Quit kicking me!”

“Don’t try to hog the whole tub!”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

After a while we realized we had escaped amputation and death in the backyard. We felt safe in adding a little more hot water, and then a little more, and then eased back into a comfortable soak.

Now our hot tub is not one of those sybaritic swimming pools for 10 people: two can fit in it; three if you’re desperate. So there should be enough room for a tiny muscular redhead and a somewhat gargantuan blonde. It seems however, that the legs of a certain blonde needed more than their fair share of the tub and so the feet attached to them kept poking the heroic redhead in red-haired areas that were below the water.

“You toe is in my kootchie! And when did you canlı kaçak iddaa last get a pedicure, anyway? Have you been to that Korean lady at Nails Plus? Damnit, are you trying to fuck me or are you just clumsy?”

“My toe is still really cold, I can hardly feel it. And you’re the one who started getting wet in the middle of us dying by exposure.”

“Why do they call it exposure anyway? We covered up everything we possibly could. Ha! We didn’t expose anything like what we do in the summertime. And don’t think that I’m not noticing your big ole scabrous toe still trying to get some!”

“Why don’t you return the favor?”

“You think I won’t? At least my nails are smooth and French Polished. Do you think French Polished and French Kissed and French Fried have anything to do with each other? Or Kentucky Fried?”

“Silky, you haven’t had your meds today yet, right? I hate to take advantage of a mentally challenged person.”

‘Take advantage? You think I’d be letting you toe my pussy if I didn’t like it?” I then stretched my leg down to do her, but no fair! Her legs are so damn long, I think my toes only rubbed her knees!

Then she leaned forward, sorta trapping me at my end (of the tub) and pulled my face close.

“You saved my life Silky,” was all she said.

Her lips closed on mine and I could barely think of Denmark or butterflies or mitosis, or the other clutter generally in my head. Her toe was further in me than I would have thought possible anatomically, but I certainly enjoyed the sensation. At some point, she scooted close enough that even my legs could reach her opening, and I began my life as a toe-sex expert.

The warmth inside her lips was much hotter than the tub, just as my loins flamed beneath the waves. I began to toy with her nipples, the one with the ring (her right) and the impoverished left one. Since it is totally devoid of adornment I would call it flat broke, but even though my breasts surpass hers, she comes nowhere near flat. Anyway….

She chose the route of pulling on my decorated nipple (Italian Silver) and used her other hand to augment her submarine excursions. I wonder if Jules Verne thought of these kinds; she is very good at touching me, she always has been, and this was no exception.

Soon the tempest in the tub sloshed water everywhere, but we two could not have cared; Saved from a frozen death, we warmed each other to the gates of Heaven, and then beyond.

Jess began to defame saints, and then reached Gesú bambino, the words my Achates always reaches at the brink of cumming. Then with sforzando I lost track of her words, as I drowned under my own feelings and soared free of this Earth.

Our responses led to surcease, and we added more hot water and chillaxed in our mutual muliebrity.

George returned to a house with sleeping dogs, sleeping daughters, and a flooded bathroom.

“Anyone want to explain the flooding? Did you two have a naval engagement? Jess, what are you doing awake, it’s only 10 am?”

“Snort! You sound like Silky! So many questions!”

I thought that was funny, myself, and soon our convulsive laughter dumped more water on the floor.

“Ok, time for drying off. I don’t want prunes for daughters.”

So George helped us out of the tub, and helped dry us off, and in the course of doing so managed to get himself soaked, naked, and erect. To be totally honest, I really don’t know how that happened, I really didn’t do anything. Honest.

He urged us to the bedroom, which seemed a wonderful destination for two discalced girls eager to have tmesis with blankets. We crawled to either side of our owner, and dutifully explained our near-death experience. (Or experiences?) Anyway, we told him we almost got frozified. When I said I couldn’t figure out a stick big enough to shove into Jess to make her a Popsicle, George put his finger over my lips.

“Silky, you did a good job. Both of you. You willingly shared your clothes to protect Jessica, and the two of you together figured out a good plan. You still have to mop the bathroom, but that’s not a rush. Everything is closed, so we’re stuck here.”

“A horrible fate!” canlı kaçak bahis Murmured Jess.

“I think that Silky is the heroine here, and we’ll do what she decides.”

“What if I decide y’all should mop the bathroom?”

“No chance. But other things, you choose.”

“You’ll do whatever I want?”


“Both of you. Whatever I want?” I got two affirmative nods to that, so I took a deep breath, rolled my head around to bounce the though one more time, and said, “George, I want you to fuck me in the ass.”


“You promised!”

“I’m not saying no, I’m just amazed! Why that?”

“I was having eschatological thoughts as we froze, and I thought about how one thing I regretted was that I never offer it up to you, so I wanted to do that.”

“No problem. I’m good with your sweet baby ass anytime.” His eyes glowed with lickerish emotions.

“But I want to do it differently.”

“How differently can you do it, Silk?”

Exercising obscurantism, I insisted that I would explain as we went.

“Jess will be my assistant.”

I then dived under the covers and in that caliginous space inhaled the frowsty odor of a cock too long hard and waiting. I could feel Jess lean over, and assumed they started kissing, as his erection made a perceptible surge.

I put my little hand around his shaft and pulled his abergined head against my lips. I toyed with him, placing light kisses on it, and then quick kitten licks, and slowly eased him into my mouth. I slid back and forth several times, fletcherizing every inch, but not giving him release. That, I prayed, would come my way… and then I giggled at my own pun.

I resurfaced to spy the blonde crawling past George’s tonsils. I slapped her bared cheek, not that a little whipping would ever slow her down. “Jess, I need your help.”

“In response to our near- cothurnal morning, I am your slave.” That was hyperbole, Jess is a shitty slave.

“I want you to go fill a big bowl with crushed ice.”


“No questions, lousy slave, just do it. And bring it back here.”

While she spent like hours doing that one simple task, I allowed George to sedulously tongue my labia and swollen little clit. I wouldn’t let him make me cum, that would make the next step too easy.

So when the daughter of Shylock returned with her burden, I began to issue instructions. First, I got into a comfortable knee chest position. That is probably a pleonasm, as I love to kneel like that, with my perineum open to the world. I’m afraid my tight little asshole had become eremite; she had been so long hidden away.

The next instruction left Jessie openmouthed; I told her to stuff my rectum with ice chips. After a brief wait for George’s nod, she fed freezing shards of ice into my anus, perhaps with more asperity than necessary, but I always have been sensitive about my private little rosebud.

The internal chill froze my guts. It was as if I shat backwards, and cold is not a strong enough word. I wanted so badly to laager my back door, but I had decided to do this, and I never give up. When my evil twin announced she could stuff no more, I spread my knees one last millimeter, and asked George to put his adamantine shaft at my dripping adscititious adit. He complied.

“Fuck me, George. Fuck my cold tight ass. Fuck me until your heat melts me!” I said in a precatory moan.

Already stretched, my anal ring could bear the push of his rigid glans. My fear that the cold would wilt him evaporated as the frisson of his entrance made him frozen, so to speak. I was so full already that I felt as if he were entering my throat from the back, certainly at least my gall bladder or somewhere near there.

His fucking melted my ice and ass by stages. Gallons of hiemal arctic water flushed with every back stroke, and harmonizing, he gained a little more space with each thrust. Soon the heat from his manhood had melted my ass and my heart, and the only sensations were of my tight ring paralleling his penis, lengthening when he withdrew, folding into itself when he forged ahead.

Jess could not stand to be left out, so she shoved herself under me, to pay umbrage to my clitoris with her magic lavations, and when I felt George pouring scalding porridge into me, I allowed myself to melt in turn, to sear the frozen fears from my brain and my cunt, and to be blasted into unconsciousness.

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