Fire & Ice

Well lubri­cated with the bet­ter part of two bot­tles of ice cold cham­pagne and a tiny bit of rasp­berry fram­boise, I unbuckle my belt, slip my jeans over my hips and push them down until they fall in a pud­dle around my feet. I can already feel the chill through the glass door, but I’m drunk and horny and I don’t care. I pull my shirt over my head, throw my bra into the pile on the floor along with my panties. I’m naked, bare flesh prick­ling in the chill air. Deep breath, and I grab the bot­tle of wine, the glasses, push open the door and I’m rush­ing through the cold night air, shiv­er­ing as the light rain drops onto my nude body, try­ing to get the cover off the hot tub before my courage deserts me.

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