Icebound

by

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Tear Jerker, Masturbation, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Valerie tells Sally the story of how she met and was courted by her former husband, Mike.



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 to 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.

.... There is more of this story ...

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