Broken A C

He paused on his way into the house to check the thermometer on the porch railing. 98 degrees. He tapped the thermometer, just to be sure it wasn't stuck, and shook his head. With the humidity, it felt well over 100.

He opened the front door, and instead of the cool wave of A/C he was expecting, a thick wall of warm air hit him in the face.

"Hey, babe?" he called.

"In the kitchen."

He headed toward the back of the house, kicking off his shoes halfway down the hall. There was a low humming sound coming from the kitchen. As he neared the doorway, her bare feet came into view.

"Hey," he said, stepping into the kitchen. He grinned at her, laying flat on her back on the floor. Her arms were flung out by her sides. She had on a tank top and a pair of his boxers and- he looked again- apparently nothing else.

The humming noise came from a small fan sitting on the floor, blowing directly at her head.

"What's going on?" he asked. "What happened to the A/C?"

"Broken." Her eyes were closed, and she didn't open them to answer him.

"Want me to call?" He opened the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke. He rolled it across the back of his neck before popping it open and sinking to the floor beside her.

"I already did. They'll be here tomorrow between nine and three."

"Oh, that's helpful." He took a long drink of cold soda. "Want some?"

She opened her eyes and sat up just enough to drink some of the Coke. "It is HOT," she complained and lay back down on the floor. She handed the can back to him and he set it on her abdomen.

"Here," she said, lifting the hem of her shirt. He set the can on her bare skin.

"Whew," she gasped slightly. "That's cold. Feels good, though."

"Want to go out for dinner?" he asked, watching a drop of condensation roll down the cold can on to her stomach.

"Ugh, no. The last thing I want to do is put on more clothes. Let's just eat cold cereal for dinner. Or ice cubes."

"Do we have any ice cream?" he asked.

"I don't remember. I think the part of my brain that knew what was in the freezer has been cooked."

A puff of cold air bumped pleasantly against him when he opened the freezer. "Good news," he said over his shoulder. "We have ice cream and popsicles."

"Oh, can I have a popsicle, please?"

He took a popsicle from the freezer and returned to her side, pulling the paper from the block of purple ice. She reached for it, but he pulled back slightly.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I've got an idea," he told her. She watched as he moved the can of Coke to the floor and lowered the popsicle to the bare skin between her shirt and shorts. A lazy smile turned up the corners of her mouth as he slid the popsicle across her stomach, just below her bellybutton. Goosebumps rose where the popsicle had been.

"Uh oh," she said. "Now I've got purple on me."

"I got it," he said. He lowered his mouth to her skin and kissed his way across the purple streak.

"Hey," she said, tugging gently on his hair, "You've got trouble up here."

He looked up and saw that the popsicle was already starting to melt in the warmth of the kitchen. Two drops had fallen on her tank top.

"That's going to need to stain remover, I think," he said with mock seriousness.

"You're right," she answered, sitting up. "I should take care of that immediately." She slowly pulled the shirt up, over her shoulders and over her head. "Well, maybe in a minute," she said, tossing the shirt in the general direction of the laundry room.

She slid a little closer to him on the floor, draping one of her legs over his. He bent his head to her bare chest, kissing the side of her one of her breasts. He stroked his thumb across the nipple of the other one.

"Mmm," she said, touching his hair. She jumped slightly as the popsicle dripped again, this time on the top of her thigh.

"Lay back down," he told her, his voice starting to get a little husky. She did, and he dropped his mouth to the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh. Heat burst through her lower body. He held the popsicle over her leg and watched as the little drips dropped down to the inside of her leg. They were starting to drip a little faster now, and it didn't take long for the drops to accumulate into a tiny puddle large enough to run down the inside of her thigh. He nudged her knees apart and licked his way up her thigh.

A small moan escaped from her and she tangled her hands in his hair, trying to pull him to her.

"Don't stop."

He pulled back, though, and smiled.

"Why are you wearing my underwear?" he asked, tugging on the hem of the shorts. From this angle he could see that she, indeed, had nothing on under the shorts.

"They were on top of the clean laundry pile. And they're light." She pulled on his hair again, harder this time. "I'll take them off if you don't want me to wear them."

"Absolutely." He reached up and hooked his fingers in the waistband of the pants. She arched her hips and he tugged the boxers off. They joined the tank top on the floor. She bent her knees, planting both feet flat on the floor.

The popsicle was half-melted at this point, so when he pressed it to the inside of her knee, purple liquid immediately ran down the inside of her thigh to the neatly trimmed patch between her legs. He followed the trail with his tongue, stopping before she wanted him to. She slid her feet farther apart.

"Touch me now," she pleaded. He reached over with his left hand and gently pushed apart her folds. With his right hand, he lowered what was left of the popsicle to her super-heated flesh. She gave a sharp intake of breath and then laughed a little.

"That's so cold," she gasped. "It feels so good."

He held the popsicle against her for just another second, and then replaced the frozen treat with his hot mouth. "Oh, God," she groaned, tangling both hands in his hair and pulling him tightly against her. He stroked her several times with his tongue, then focused his attention on her clit. It was hard, swollen against his lips. He sucked hard, rubbing the underside with his tongue.

Her hips arched hard against his face as her breathing quickened. "Oh yes, yes," she said. He pressed his thumb against her, easily sliding into her wetness. "More," she said. He took his thumb out and put in first one finger and then another. "Oh, shit," she gasped, bucking hard against him. "Don't stop." He moved his fingers in and out, increasing his pace as he pulled on her clit with his mouth.

Her breathing quickened even more as she pressed her thighs tightly against his head. She cried out as the orgasm shook her body.

Still catching her breath, she grabbed his ears and tugged him up toward her. He moved up her body, the back of his shirt damp under her hands.

"Take this off," she said, pulling on the hem of his shirt. Her thighs muscles felt like tiny jolts of electricity were pulsing through them, but she knew she wasn't done yet. He moved his shoulders, helping her get his shirt off. The heat coming from them was almost visible when he lay down on top of her, his bare chest pressing against hers. They kissed hard for a minute, and then she pushed on his chest. "You lay down," she said, moving out from under him.

He stretched out on the floor, and she unbuckled his belt. Seconds later, his shorts and boxers joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. She leaned down and kissed his cock, taking the tip of it into her mouth.

"Ohh," he said, rubbing the top of his thigh. "I don't think this will take long."

She looked up at him and sat up. "Well, this isn't quite how I want to do it."

"How about this?" he asked, reaching down to grab her. He pulled her up on to his body, pushing her hips over to his.

"Wait, wait," she told him, raising up over his cock. She smiled. "I want to go slow." She lowered herself on to him, closing her eyes as he filled her.

"Yeah, that works," he murmured, clenching her hips as she started to grind against him. She leaned back slightly, so his cock rubbed against her from the inside. She could already feel a second orgasm building. He slid her back and forth, increasing his speed, as his breathing deepened.

He moved one of his hands just enough to reach her clit with his thumb, and began stroking her as she rocked her hips back and forth, faster now. She closed her eyes as the waves of pleasure increased. A drop of sweat rolled down her back and his chest glistened under her palms.

She could feel the pressure building inside her as she moved against him, feeling him fill her completely, and her body was almost beyond her control. She tried to slow down to draw out the moment, but she couldn't. She clutched at his torso, dragging her fingers across his shoulders and down his ribcage. He was arching his hips up to meet her, and she pressed her mouth to his, kissing him deeply.

The orgasm felt like it started in her knees, traveled up her thighs, and exploded where they were joined. He held on to her tightly as she cried out against him. Just as she was catching her breath, she felt his thighs tighten under her legs. He grabbed her waist and raised his hips, and then opened his mouth, pressing his teeth against her shoulder as his own orgasm forced an extended groan from him.

He held on to her tightly as tiny aftershocks rippled through both of them. She put her head down on his shoulder, feeling the wet heat of his body. She could hear his racing heartbeat, and listened as it gradually slowed back down.

She sat up slowly, feeling the damp pull of their bodies separating. She smiled down at him and traced her name on his chest with a finger. "We're pretty wet," she said. He nodded, his breath still a little ragged. She stood carefully, her legs feeling a little like jell-o. She looked back at him over her shoulder from the doorway of the kitchen. "I think I'm going to go take a shower," she said with a smile. "Want to join me?"