Warm and cold

She tests it with a palmful of cold water poured straight over her hot, swollen pussy. The shock draws a sharp hiss between her teeth and a slow, thick pulse of heat right after. Frida watches her own fingers part her folds, then lets the next trickle slide down, clit twitching under the sting. She doesn’t stop. Each icy splash tightens everything—nipples, cunt, the breath in her throat—until the throbbing ache turns slick and needy again. She leans back against the porcelain, legs spread wide over the edge, and works two fingers inside while the water keeps coming. Her hips jerk every time the cold hits, but her pussy only grips harder, wetter. When the first climax breaks she stays open, letting the shudders ride out, then pours more, chasing the next. The porcelain grows slick under her ass; her breath turns ragged. She keeps going until her thighs tremble and her cunt is so sensitive the lightest stream makes her moan like she’s been edged for hours. Finally her hand slips away, dripping, leaving her spread and spent, still pulsing under the fading chill.