A Fan of Fans

Or, Sex While It Is Hot as Balls.

♦ The sunshine is glorious. Big blue skies with tiny candyfloss wisps of white cloud. The sunlight making colours vibrant and vivid. The UK is slowly turning into a continental country with the wide-open windows of bars opening onto outdoors tables with clientèle bedecked in sunglasses and florals.

I like the sunny weather of summer, I just can’t stand the heat that comes with it. And right now, there is a lot of heat that comes with it. Quite hot, and I’m down to strappy top and shorts. Very hot, and it’s a summer dress and no underwear. This hot, and I’m lying naked and sweaty on our bed.

You’d think that a permanently naked Blacksilk sprawled across Crush’s big bed would lead to a fair amount of sex. You’d be wrong if it weren’t for one thing and one thing alone: our fan.

I’m already too hot, and vigorous movement and the proximity of another boiling body is not going to help. It’s just too hot to have sex without it.

Furthermore, I just can’t come if I’m overheated. The run-up to a powerful orgasm like I’m used to is taxing enough as it is without the heat building in my body like a furnace. I’ll get closer and closer and hotter and hotter, until my engines just can’t take it any more and I back away, idling.

So thank fuck for our fan, because we wouldn’t be getting any fucks without it.

Rewind to yesterday, and the fan’s cooling blast sweeps the bedroom from side to side as we tangle on the bed. His body is over mine, his cock in my face and his lips on my thighs, fingers on my pussy. He is stroking and I am sucking. He kisses as I grasp.

It’s too hot still. His body is a roof over mine, a blanket, a stuffy quilt that I must throw off. I beg him to move and he responds by cocking one leg back over my body then dragging me into position like a stiff in a bag. I’m lethargic with the heat, but now there’s no Crush barring the fan’s airflow from my body. In fact, I’m at the end of the bed, face fan-wards, ass in the air, a sheen of moisture coating my body where skin often touches skin.

I spread my legs wider, allowing the tip of his cock to find the entrance of its sheath. With a little persuading, it plunges home. He takes me roughly, so roughly, and I am loving it. His thrusts teeter between pleasure and pain, my pelvis aching, my cunt adoring and abhorring the assault. I am gasping, heat and pleasure and pain and love and fury pouring from my open lips.

I’ve already come twice or thrice during our foreplay, so the fact that I’m not really going to now doesn’t bother me. It feels wonderful in a different way. A sort of constant pleasure that rumbles along just under the peak, a sort of undulation of ecstasy that never quite breaches the surface. It feels beautiful.

I’ve never been fucked so hard as that, I’m sure. At times I almost couldn’t take it, and those were perhaps the best of all. Face down in the mattress, ass displayed, eyes closed tight or else wide open with my neck craning to watch him pound me like I deserve. I made myself his object as I glimpsed his face crease, his neck tauten. As I heard him groan like a beast.

I slumped forward, cunt dripping, body aching and gleaming with sweat already cooling in the blast of the fan. Ah, the fan. I stayed like that for some time as he cleaned himself up and kissed me and dressed, prostrated in front of that fount of delicious coolness, thankful and messy.

In this heat, I’m so glad we own that fan. Because otherwise I’d be missing out on fucking fantastic sex like that. Excuse the pun. ♦

How are you coping with the weather? Is it affecting your sex drive or the type of sex you have?

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