Cooling Off

The AC’s dead. Victoria and Nicole lie naked on the bed, skin sticky, breath heavy, too hot to touch each other the way they want. Nicole cracks a tray of ice. She presses a cube to Victoria’s neck, watches it slide down between small, natural tits. The melt leaves a glistening trail. Victoria shivers, reaches for her own cube, traces it over Nicole’s shaved mound, letting the cold drip between parted lips. Tongues follow—slow, greedy—lapping at water and salt. Each pass grows bolder: ice teased over tight nipples, slipped lower, pressed where heat pools and pulses. Sweat beads, ice hisses, bodies arch. Neither cares about the broken unit anymore.