It’s hot, one of those sticky, sweaty days you dream about in the dead of winter.

We’re flopped on the couch, watching movies, but even following the plot seems like too much effort.

“If it weren’t so damn hot, I’d wanna fuck,” Nick says, tilting the fan to blow across our faces.

“Me too, I answer, “But ugggggh.” I get up to refresh our drinks.

“Lots of ice this time,” he calls out.

I return, handing Nick his drink, the glass already dripping with condensation. A dribble falls on his belly and slides down, disappearing under the waist of his shorts. I’m suddenly mesmerized.

I fish one ice cube from my glass and hold it between my fingers. I place it on his neck and he shudders with pleasure. I drag the ice slowly along the top of his shoulder, it melts into a little cascade down his chest. I grab another.  Continue reading