“About twice a week.” Frankie carried on with what she was doing.
The car screeched and suddenly stopped its forward motion only to swing up and down.
“Shit,” Frankie softly swore.
“What?” Ann wanted to know. It usually only took a few minutes before the lift would start up again.
“They’ve been having a few problems with it lately. Last time it took more than an hour to fix.”
“Great. To think I left a nice warm bar for this.”
Frankie stood up and laced one of her ski poles through two straps suspended from the roof.
“What’s that for?” Ann wanted to know.
“You’ll see,” Frankie replied. “Do you think you could help me by holding it steady?”
Ann got to her feet and raised her arms.
“If you could just move them apart a little more,” Frankie suggested.
Ann moved her hands and felt Frankie wrap something around her right hand and wrist. She looked up to see it was a bandage. “Hey,” she said removing her other arm from the pole.
“Put it back,” Frankie ordered. “It’s for your own safety, and my enjoyment,” she added.
Ann felt jubilant. She placed her hand back on the pole as Frankie applied a second bandage. “A small reward for following your instructions?” she asked blithely.
Frankie pretended to consider then grasped Ann’s face in her hands. She kissed her lightly on the mouth then moved out of reach. Ann struggled against the pole.
“Be good and you’ll get more,” Frankie promised.
She stepped back and reached for the zipper on Ann’s jacket. “It might get a little warm in here,” she said as she pulled it down and opened it up.
She looked thoughtfully at Ann’s expensive, well-worn ski sweater. “More evidence that you’re not the novice you claim,” she exclaimed.
Ann tried to think of a fitting retort, but Frankie hoisted the sweater up and over her head. Wedged behind her neck it braced her shoulders back and thrust her naked breasts forward. The cool air goosed her skin.
Frankie whistled appreciatively. “That’s more like it.” She cupped her hands around Ann’s breasts then pinched the nipples expertly between her thumbs and forefingers.
An arc of arousal swept through Ann and buried itself below her waist.
Frankie let go, pushed her foot between Ann’s legs and forced her to spread them. Ann’s arms tightened on the pole as she tried to maintain her balance. She felt Frankie’s breath, warm on her body as she bent to release the zipper on her trousers. In one movement she’d pulled them down to Ann’s knees. Bound and exposed Ann experienced a flutter of panic followed by a surge of excitement.
Frankie toyed with the delicate, black lace edges of Ann’s panties then slipped a finger momentarily inside, causing Ann to take a sharp intake of breath. She felt the finger probe the searing wetness within her then retreat, leaving behind a steady, pulsating rhythm.
Frankie leaned toward a small open window and forced her hands through, quickly gathering the small clumps of ice and snow that had collected on the glass. She transferred it to Ann’s breasts, rubbing it roughly over them. As the extreme cold shot through her, Ann felt her nipples tense, only to pucker harder still as Frankie’s hot, soft, moist tongue and lips found them before descending to drink in the melting water running down over her belly. Lower still, Frankie paused, then teased the flimsy lace to one side as she pushed her face deep into Ann’s crotch. Ann’s legs startled to buckle but with her arms held in position she could only sag. Her breathing was confined to short gasps as Frankie rasped her tongue over her sensitive nub.
She opened her eyes. “Stop,” she managed to pant. “I followed you and Leisl to the workshop.”
Frankie lifted her head and looked at her with disbelief. “You were there?”
Ann nodded. “I want what I saw.”
Frankie reached into her rucksack then approached Ann with her arms behind her back. Ann strained to see what she carrying but the pole restricted her movements.
Frankie came closer and leaned in to kiss her. Ann felt her tongue explore her lips, rim her teeth, then plunge deeper. Simultaneously, she felt the tearing of lace and a cold hardness slam up inside her.
“Ohh,” the exquisite surprise forced her to exhale.
Frankie braced one arm behind Ann’s back and continued to maintain strong, relentless strokes.
“Is this what you saw?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.” Ann concentrated on receiving each thrust, enjoying the pounding sensation it created.
“And what did you hear?” Frankie’s voice had a hoarseness to it.
Ann struggled to speak. “I heard, ‘Harder! Faster!’”
“Is that what you want?”
Ann’s awareness was confined to the rhythmic, slippery passage of the toy in Frankie’s hand.
“Yes,” she admitted.
Frankie moaned softly and increased her tempo, kissing Ann with renewed vigor.
Ann pressed her pelvis forward, meeting Frankie’s hand as it ground ever deeper within her. It had been so long since she’d felt this alive.
Finally, together with the familiar tingle in her nipples and an overwhelming gush of moisture, she felt the insurmountable pressure inside her explode.
Drained, she hung limply from the pole. Frankie untied her hands and helped her to a seat.
Minutes later, a burst of radio static had Frankie rushing to her bag.
“Time’s up, Frankie, I can’t hold off any longer,” a disembodied voice announced.
Frankie pressed a button and held the radio to her face. “Thanks, Karl, we’re out of here now.”
Ann removed what remained of her panties and redressed. “You stopped the lift?”
Frankie grinned sheepishly then swung the rucksack onto her back. “Time to go.” She hit the emergency release button on the door then leaned out to grab first Ann’s skis, then her own.
“Are you mad?” Ann asked as Frankie clipped on her skis and hovered part in and part out of the open door. “It must be a fifty-foot drop out there.”
“Five,” Frankie stated. “Come on.” She leapt from the door to the depths below.
Ann quickly clipped on her skis and took a deep breath, then jumped too.
“I knew you could do it,” Frankie said as Ann landed beside her. “Now all you have to do is keep your eyes open for anyone still out on the slopes.”
“And then?” Ann asked.
“Then you can take me to bed. You owe me.” Frankie replied as she set off at speed.
“It would be my pleasure,” Ann responded as she overtook Frankie.
“So Tess said in her email,” Frankie shouted from behind.
ICE
Rachel Charman
She was going to leave town, the cold-hearted bitch.
It didn’t matter to her. My existence only crossed over with hers in the most superficial of ways. She regularly asserted that she had no responsibility for my interpretation of our affair. I was her dog, running, jumping and barking when she said so, nipping at her heels and whimpering as she drifted out of my life.
She had been there only five weeks. I had come upon her on her first day in the town center. It seems strange to me now that I had been walking around, going to work, buying vegetables and whatever else without knowing what was about to happen to me. I turned onto the High Street and there she was, sitting languidly under one of her sculptures in the middle of the busy pavement.
It was the sculpture that caught my eye first. As the hot bodies of shoppers, bundled in coats, never still, whining, shouting and wanting, swarmed around it, the sculpture remained demure, still, beautiful and freezing. It was the perfect antidote to life itself. It was made of ice, around nine feet tall and impossibly constructed; a lion, standing on its hind legs, front paws raised to the sky. Though from a distance the lion seemed to be about to pounce snarling onto the passersby below, the face was perfectly calm, with its eyes shut and its mouth closed and smiling a little. The overall effect was of a creature not about to kill, but about to dance. I laughed out loud as I drew closer.