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Welcome to our "smut" library. Here you will find various information articles and exciting stories dedicated to voyeurism. We welcome erotic fiction from our visitors. Notice that we add points to authors for every story we publish.

Icebound (01 December 2007)

Sally came out of the shower to find that Valerie was still in bed. It being the weekend, there was no need for her to be up right at this moment, but they were planning to visit Charles, their Master, today. As she studied the face of her lover, she detected a hint of sadness there. She didn't like seeing Valerie sad, and she had a suspicion she knew what the cause was. They still had three hours to be at Charles', so Sally felt able to take the time to have her shoulder cried upon.

"Hey there, little lady. Why the long face?"

"Oh. I'm sorry, Sally. It's noth..."

"Don't give me nothing lover. We're partners for life. What makes you sad, makes me sad. Out with it! Why the long face?"

"It's an anniversary."

"Mike?"

"Yeah. He proposed today, all those years ago. I stopped celebrating them after he died."

Mike Burbon was Valerie's husband. He had died five years ago in a car accident. That was from another time in Valerie's life, before she discovered her ability to enjoy sex and fall in love with a woman. It was Sally's total acceptance of Mike that had allowed Valerie to remember those times with the joy as well as the pain they had always held for her. The picture of him and Valerie, once packed away for so many years, had been a prominent fixture in the living room of the house for the last six months.

"So this is the first time since he died that you've let yourself remember it?"

Tears filled her eyes as she answered. They were tears of sadness at the loss, yes, but they were more. There was guilt as well. She had turned away from the memories of the man she had loved with all her heart for so many years. "Yes. God, Sally, it hurts so much."

"I know it does, dear. It always will. But you can honor him by remembering. I can honor him by listening and committing your memories to my heart. Come on, tell me about it. I want to know every detail of the proposal, the wedding and honeymoon. Let me know the man you loved."

"You know we waited until we were married to have sex, right?" At Sally's nod, Valerie continued. "We were married almost exactly one year after we first met. It was late May when we met and Francine and I were at Schweitzer ski resort thanks to a late season snow fall."

As Valerie continued to talk, time seemed to roll back and Sally felt like she was there, watching.

* * *

In those days, I was very hetero and very bad at skiing. Francine had browbeaten me into taking some lessons that weekend. I truly sucked! Fortunately, the resort had a good club for après ski celebrations. My butt was so sore that I didn't want to sit down, so I danced instead. I've always been a good dancer and was finally enjoying myself. I had no shortage of partners. Then he asked me to dance.

I knew immediately that we were perfect dance partners for each other. We danced like we had been dancing together for years. Every move I made, he anticipated and matched. I seemed to know just what he was going to do and flowed into it like honey onto a scone. There was an excitement that went through me when we touched. I didn't recognize it then. After all, I'd never been in love before. I was just enjoying the dancing. I even managed to forget those stupid skiing lessons.

Occasionally, we took a break from dancing and talked. I can still remember exactly what we talked about — ourselves. I was just starting at Bradford and Gashune advertising agency at that time and he was truly fascinated by the intricacies of advertising. He was in construction, a site foreman for Wellington Contractors. He loved his work and could talk about it for hours. Yet, he didn't that night. He was interested in me in a way that I had never experienced before. It never felt like prying, yet he learned so much about me. I remember how considerate he was of my privacy.

He had asked, "So how was your day of skiing?"

I suppose my frown was a dead give away. "Oh, loads of fun. Everyone likes to spend the holidays as a student."

"You're not a skier, then?"

"No. I never liked it much and never wanted to."

"Why is that?"

I hesitated. I'm really reluctant to share fears; especially irrational ones. I was trying to decide what lie to feed him when he interrupted. "No. That's too personal. Leave it at 'I don't like to ski,' and that'll be good."

I'm pretty sure I blushed at that. As I was trying to regain my bearings, he took my hand.

"Come on. I want to do something I haven't done in ages."

He led me outside onto the lodge's veranda. It was cold outside, but he didn't seem to notice. I didn't notice much either. His presence seemed to be a warm spot in the world. We walked to the back side of the building. The snow around the lodge was well trampled, but you could see the unmarred snow on the slopes in the distance. The moonlight made the snow glitter like millions of little stars reaching out to their cousins in the sky. Then he reached up, broke off an icicle from the edge of the roof, and licked it like a popsicle.

"I always loved doing this as a kid," he explained. "Want a lick?" he asked as he offered the end to me.

I couldn't help myself. I just laughed. Then I took a lick myself. I damn near froze my tongue to the thing. We took turns licking that icicle until it was a little stub of ice. He popped it into his mouth and I could hear it crunching as he chewed it. By now, with cold both inside and outside me, I was shivering.

"Come; let's get you inside to warm up."

I responded with, "I think I'll only feel warm under that down comforter on my bed."

"Let me have the honor of escorting you, then," replied Mike with a gentlemanly bow and a mischievous smile.

He led me by the hand back inside and up the stairs. When we reached my room, he took both my hands and looked into my eyes. I felt like he was looking deep into my soul and, honestly, I was a little scared of how much he was seeing of me.

"Valerie, I had a wonderful time tonight. I hope we have a chance to spend more time with one another this weekend."

"I did too. I would like that. Maybe at breakfast?"

"I'll see you downstairs at...?"

"8.00?"

"I can do that. Stay warm under that comforter."

Then he walked away, not even trying to come into my room with me. At that time, if he had asked, I would have gone to bed with him. While we ultimately ended up waiting until we were married, neither of us was a virgin when we met. It wasn't that I was casual in my choice of partners, but rather I knew I wanted to sleep with Mike.

As I went in and closed the door, I felt diminished. It was very strange, a feeling I had never had before. In fact, it was the first time that a man had not even broached the idea of getting into my bed. When I started to undress, I realized that the strong feelings I had for him were as much physical as they were emotional. I was in need, of him, yet when he had been around me, that physical need was under the surface, temporarily satiated by his simply being there.

Now, left alone, I found that my nipples were erect and my pussy was damp. I knew that I'd never get to sleep with this much lust burning inside me. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I brushed my nipples. The tingles of pleasure had me gasping. I pictured Mike taking my breasts into his hands and running his thumbs across my nibs. My mental image had me moaning and my juices going from damp to running in short order. That empty feeling down there that needed to be filled started to grow and I was regretting having left my vibrator at home.

I brought one hand down from my tits to my mound, sliding one finger across my lips. I swear I jerked at my own touch. I sucked in a deep breath as jolts of electricity-like charges raced through me. Normally I tease myself a lot when I'm masturbating, but this time I couldn't. Once I had touched my pussy, the need in me exploded and I could only thrust my fingers inside me to fill that void. The only way to describe it was to say that I fucked myself, hard and fast. My orgasm hit me like a freight train. I collapsed back on the bed and screamed as my body started to shake. I hadn't even managed to touch my clit yet.

As I basked in that afterglow, I knew that I wanted Mike to do that to me. As I slept that night, I dreamed of making passionate love with him. In my dreams, he was as perfect a lover for me as he was a dancer. I'm pretty sure that I had a silly grin on my face all night.

* * *

The present reasserted itself as Sally commented, "I've seen that grin. You have it every time I tease you on the edge of orgasms. I might just think you like that kind of torture." continued Sally cheekily.

"I do. Letting you do that is one of my favorite parts of being your lover."

Sally stroked Valerie's leg through the sheet as she asked, "So what happened at breakfast?"

The past returned as Valerie resumed her story.

* * *

He wasn't there at breakfast.. The waitress in the lodge's restaurant gave me a note when I came down. I left in unread on the table while I ate my Belgian waffle. I was sure that I didn't want to read whatever lie he was trying to foist off on me. After a little while Francine came down and joined me.

"So how was last night?"

"I don't want to talk about it." I obviously wasn't feeling very good. Oh, I had enjoyed the previous night. I just didn't want to remember it.

"Fess up, girl! What is the problem? I saw you having the time of your life. And he took you upstairs. So spill it Valerie, what happened? Did he leave you frustrated?"

"He didn't even come in my room. He promised to meet me for breakfast and this was waiting for me instead." I handed the note to Francine.

She looked at it and her face took on a quizzical look. She looked at the note again and then back at me. "You haven't read this, have you?"

"I don't have to. He's blowing me off."

She shook her head, giving me a look of caring disgust. I'd seen that look before, every time I made assumptions about other people. "Dear Valerie, I received a call from my brother early this morning. My brother's been on the waiting list with the National Organ Registry for a new kidney and one has become available. I need to take care of his family while he goes in for the operation. I hope I can get a rain check on breakfast. Mike."

Needless to say, I was feeling pretty stupid and petty. That's not the kind of thing you make up to blow a girl off. How can you hold it against someone that he puts family first? My waffle didn't have much taste after that. The rest of the weekend also seemed bland. This was caused in part from his not being there and in part due to my own judgmental attitude.

* * *

Summer is always busy for the advertising business. Christmas season shopping ads are planned and produced months ahead. Our company's connections with television and radio stations put us in high demand. I was working ten hours or more a day that summer. You might remember that year. It was the year that Macy's and Sack's had their Christmas jewelry price wars. In the middle of all that, Mike called.

June, my secretary, buzzed me. "Ms. Glascow, there's a Mike Burbon on line 2."

"Thanks June. I'll take it." My heart leapt at his name.

"Hello Mike, this is Valerie. How is your brother?"

"He's doing great, The new kidney is working well."

"I'm glad. What can I do for you?"

"I know it's not the breakfast I promised, but can I take you to lunch?"

"I'd love to. When and where?"

"I can pick you up outside the agency at noon."

"Okay. I'll be there."

I can't tell you how wonderful it was to hear his voice. I had been so busy that there was no time to take the initiative and call him. A lunch date would not last long, but I really didn't care. I didn't get much work done the rest of that morning.

By noon, I had been standing out in front for five minutes. Mike pulled up in a battered pick up truck. Definitely out of place among the BMWs and other high class cars that were common to this part of downtown.

"Mike, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too Valerie. I hope you don't mind something fast. I'm afraid I don't have a lot of time for lunch, but since I had the chance, I did want to spend it with you,"

"I want to spend this time with you too. I have just as little time for lunches as I suspect that you do, so fast is great."

"In that case, how about Mexican?"

"Mexican is good."

* * *

Valerie came back to the present as she sat up and took Sally's hand

"I tell you Sally, I would never have thought that lunch at Taco Time could be romantic, but that's the way it felt. He bought me lunch and we spent the entire time just talking about ourselves. At some point in time, our hands started touching when we weren't using both to eat. I couldn't take my eyes off him and his eyes seemed to be looking at me as well. It wasn't that lustful gazing at my breasts, though I certainly would not have complained, but he was looking at ME, into my heart and soul through my eyes. I so badly wanted him in my life."

"I know the feeling. I felt it for you shortly after we met the first time. I was sure you loved me too, but was terrified that I was imagining it."

"That's exactly what I was feeling then. I thought that he really liked me. But what if I was deluding myself? I was afraid of looking like a fool. So I didn't say anything then."

Valerie continued her narrative, painting the past, in vivid detail, once again. "You know how I love hot food, Sally?"

* * *

We were heading back to his car after Mike had refilled his drink to take with him, and I was fanning my mouth.

"A little too much salsa, Valerie?"

"No 'little too much' about it. I love the stuff, but it doesn't like my tongue."

"Here, try sucking on this."

Mike had pulled a chunk of ice from his drink and held it to me.

"This is the second time you've given me ice. I should call you the Iceman," I said, with a laugh, as I sucked on the soothing cold.

"You can call me anything you want."

"How about 'dance partner'?" I asked as we climbed in.

"I would love to dance with you again. Are you going to have any evenings free this month?"

"To dance with you, I'll make one free."

"Great. I'll pick you up Saturday at 6:00."

Just like that, we had our first date. He took me to the Gotham Club that night. I don't know how he felt that Saturday night, but I felt like life was perfect. I was at home, in the place I was meant to be, with the person I was meant to be with. We danced for hours. My feet were in even better shape then than they are now and I could stay on them for the whole night with no trouble. I think we danced for three hours before we even found a table and had something to drink. I had never had a more perfect dance partner before.

We dated regularly after that. It wasn't always dancing, though that was at least half of our dates. He took me to Six Flags, the amusement park, one weekend for the entire day. I had to diet for a week to undo the damage to my caloric intake from that one day. Even when he took me someplace that I would never had gone to on my own, I enjoyed myself. Just being with him was so perfectly enjoyable. My desire for him grew with each date, yet he never made a move to take me to bed. Even when we went to the beach, when I could see his cock's rigidity in his suit, our kisses were only enough to fuel the fire inside me. The fact that he wore t-shirts to protect against sunburn meant that I was even denied his bare chest. As time progressed, my feelings for him grew even stronger. By the time the first snow had fallen on Halloween, I was in love. Madly, passionately, irresistibly in love with Mike Burbon. I so wanted to tell him, but I was still scared that he didn't love me.

Looking back, I know it's stupid, to think he didn't. However, he never actually said he loved me. It was only much later, after we were married that he confessed the same fears about me, because I never said that I loved him. Can you imagine that, two people desperately in love and neither one actually takes the five seconds it takes to say, "I love you?"

* * *

"Is that why you were so quick to tell me how much you loved me?" Sally asked, momentarily bringing the present back into focus.

"Yes. I loved you so much six months ago and I wasn't going to let you get away. I was terrified that it was just sex for you, but I had to let you know that it was so much more than that for me."

"I'm so glad you did. I don't think I could have done it myself. You mentioned Halloween. Why?" she asked, turning the focus back to the past.

* * *

Bradford and Gashune had done very well that year, landing three new major accounts. The president, however, was totally against Christmas parties, so we had a Halloween party instead. Of course, it had to be a costume party. One of the Batman movies had come out that year; I don't remember which one, so the people in charge of planning made it a superhero theme for the costumes. It was the first time that I asked Mike out. He usually did the asking. That's one of the things that made him so special. He had that old fashion type of romanticism.

He thought the idea of a costume party was great. Wanting to surprise me, he kept his outfit a secret, It turned out we had similar thoughts. I wasn't a comic book buff, so I had had to check out some of the shops and bug the staff for ideas. In the end, I went as Emma Frost, the White Queen from Marvel's Hellfire Club. Technically, she's a villain, but the name Frost was perfect. Once I saw Mike's costume, I realized how much alike we were starting to think. He went as the X-Man, Iceman.

It was so perfect. I had been calling him the Iceman for months now, ever since the Taco Time ice cube. It was like he was telling me that he was proud to be whatever I wanted him to be. I was beginning to believe he actually did love me. The party itself was like all office parties. Nervous employees trying not to insult their bosses and no one actually having much fun. Possibly, Mike and I were the only one having fun, though, to be honest, I wasn't paying much attention to the rest of the people there. We could have had a visit from a real superhero and I would have been oblivious.

It was at the party that Mike asked me to join him and his family for Thanksgiving. He knew that my family was across the country and that, as busy as I was at the agency, I would not have the time to go home. His family had a farm about 25 miles out of the city and he wanted me to meet them. God! Meeting your boyfriend's family? Even as adults, that's such a big event. I almost said no. How could I though, given how much I loved him, the entire person that was him? Not meeting the parents who raised such a man was unthinkable. Little did anyone know that he was setting everyone up, me, as well as his parents.

* * *

Sally interrupted, "You don't mean to tell me that he..."

"Yes, that's exactly what he did. He didn't tell anyone what he was going to do, except maybe his brother. He may have, however, just figured it out on his own. Anyway..."

* * *

He picked me up early on Thanksgiving. I hate getting up early. That I was willing to get up at 5:00 AM on a holiday for him says a lot. Snow had fallen the previous night and only Mike's truck had any chance of driving through it. We didn't talk much on the way. He had to concentrate on his driving too much. I was at home from the moment I got there. His mom, Stephanie, welcomed me like I was her own daughter. That meant, of course, that I was drafted into dinner preparations. I wasn't any better at cooking then than I am now. Apparently I do make a mean deviled egg, once I learnt how. It also turned out that it's really hard to screw up a turkey dinner, or anything else for that matter, when Stephanie is within 100 feet of it.

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