Nothing's Colder Than Ice | By : TheWhiteQueen Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2615 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author: hellfire
Beta: No one was brave enough this time around.
Summary: It’s hot, even down in the dungeons, as our favorite Slytherin Quidditch team captain tries to cool off using some ice…and his favorite mental images
Pairings: Marcus Flint/ice ^_^ Marcus/Percy, M/Penelope, M/Oliver
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the ice cube tongs that inspired all of this. Everything else belongs to JKR.
Rated NC-17 for a reason— there’s some naughty… if not downright twisted.. ice cube play in here, people!
Nothing’s Colder Than Ice
Marcus threw himself down on his bed and sighed. It was hot everywhere, even in the dungeons. Normally, they were the coolest place in the castle, but this year they were having freakishly hot weather. He almost felt sorry for the other Houses, up in their towers. Even the Gryffindors; their tower had full sunlight all day long. Then again, they had never seemed too sympathetic when the dungeons were so cold in winter that frostbite was a very real concern.
Sitting up, he pulled his half unbuttoned shirt off over his head and threw it onto the floor. Thankful that his roommates had chosen to laze about in the Common Room, he lay back down and stretched out, rubbing his head against his pillow, relishing its coolness.
Marcus had spread out on the bed in an attempt to cool off; it didn’t work. Groaning in frustration, he toed his shoes and socks off before unfastening his trousers and lifting his hips to facilitate their removal. Throwing them on the floor to join his shirt, he caught sight of the room’s water pitcher on a low table near the door. Someone had thought to place an ice bucket and tongs on the tray as well, and the sight of these gave Marcus an idea.
With a quick couple of ‘Accio’s’, he soon had the bucket and tongs nestled next to him in the bed. Removing the lid, Marcus was happy to discover that the bucket was full of large chunks of ice. Using the tongs, he grabbed the top piece and dropped it into his open mouth. Mmm… cold. He sucked on it idly for a moment, running his tongue over it, before removing it and running it delicately over his parted lips. Licking the moisture off, he then traced the outline of his jaw, and down his throat, until the chunk finally melted into a little pool of water at the base of his neck.
Shivering, he removed another piece of ice from the bucket’s cool interior. Starting where the other one had melted, he traced a damp line of icy moisture from his neck, over his left shoulder, down his arm, and into his hand. Switching the ice into his left hand from his right, he slowly glided the quickly melting ice down his right arm, drawing a wiggly line on the inside of his arm. Noticing that this piece was nearly melted, Marcus popped the remaining sliver into his mouth, and gently sucked on it; rubbing his tongue over its surface as it melted.
Noticing idly that he was hard, Marcus decided to pause and shut his curtains, just in case his mates came back in. Removing his boxers, he tossed them to the foot of the bed, and spread his legs again. Reaching for yet another piece of ice, Marcus decided that it would probably last longer if he didn’t hold it in his hand. This time, he left the chunk nestled firmly in the tongs.
It felt strange this time, as he glided the ice in circles over his chest. He knew that he was the one doing it, but since he wasn’t directly holding the ice, it almost felt like someone else was teasing him with it. Shutting his eyes, he gently ran the ice around his nipples, feeling the skin tighten as they became erect. He opened his eyes again to bring the chunk up to his face, closed them as he fastened his lips over the melting end and sucked the water off of it. Wrapping his lips around the end, he scraped it gently with his teeth. The ice had a little spot on it, right when he had been sucking on it that reminded him of Penelope Clearwater’s clit. Licking the bump roughly with his tongue, he wondered if he could make the ice yell the way that Clearwater had when he gave her the first orgasm she’d ever had with a guy. Moaning in the back of his throat, he put a little more effort into it, but soon gave the effort up. Evidently, the ice was not going to scream for him.
Gazing at the ice consideringly from under heavy lids, he decided that there was quite enough ice left to keep playing with. Giving it one last lick, Marcus then placed the ice cube back on his chest, letting it graze lightly over his nipples, feeling them tighten again. Placing his free hand under his head, he continued to use the tongs to glide the ice over his body; down his ribs, over his taut abdomen. He paused to swirl it around his navel, shivering as some of the cold melted water pooled in the indentation. Lightly stroking it over a sharp hipbone, he was disappointed to feel the cool plastic of the tongs graze his flesh. Popping the remains of the swiftly melted ice chunk in his mouth, he sucked on it, tasting his own salty skin, as he extracted another chunk of ice from the bucket.
Once again, Marcus picked up where he had left off, with his hips. Running the deliciously cold chunk of frozen water delicately over the protrusion of his hipbone, he drew a line between it and its twin over the skin of his lower abdomen, right above where his dark pubic hair started. After making another circle, he teasingly grazed the ice over the slick head of his cock, gasping at the sensation of the ice against his heated flesh. Noticing that a bit of precum had gotten onto the ice, he quickly licked it off, savouring the taste of his own fluids.
Deciding to forego actually touching his cock for now, Marcus drew his legs up, knees high in the air, and traced a line of melt up one muscular thigh and down to the backside of his leg, across the back of his knee, and up, underneath his balls to the other leg. Repeating the sequence, thigh, backside, back of knee, and thigh again, he paused when he reached the junction of his legs, and where his cock was standing proudly, aching and pulsing.
Marcus thought about it for a moment, and then decided to do something quite… naughty. He looked at the remaining ice consideringly; it was about the size of the Snitch, perhaps a little larger, and almost oval shaped. It reminded him rather strongly of an egg. Bringing it up to his lips, he licked it, applying a generous amount of saliva to the smaller end of the chunk before releasing it from the tongs to his hand. Kneeling up in the bed, he reached behind him and spread the rounded globes of his ass. Throwing his head back, panting slightly, he slowly, carefully, pushed the egg shaped ice piece up, forcing it carefully into his dark puckered hole. Once he had the smaller end of it in, but had not yet reached the largest part near the middle, he placed strong fingers firmly behind it and shoved the ice the rest of the way inside his body.
Legs shaking, Marcus quickly laid back down. Forcing the ice inside his body, feeling his muscles stretch around it, had only made him harder. Biting his bottom lip, he quickly grabbed his cock and made a tight fist around it. Pinching his nipples roughly, Marcus moaned as he felt a thin trickle of ice water leave his body. Breathing heavily, he spread his legs and started pumping his thick cock.
Images flashed through his mind: Terence Higgs on his knees in front of him, sucking his cock eagerly. Oliver Wood, running his soft pink tongue over Marcus’s body, never touching his cock, always teasing, until Marcus had had enough and had turned him over and fucked him up the ass hard enough that he hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for a week. Cho Chang, riding him, head thrown back, gasping as he flicked her clit. At this last thought, Marcus moaned, and starting pumping his hips up and down, just like he had done when he was fucking the little bitch in the locker room.
And then— his favorite thought, his favorite fantasy— Quiet Percy the Prefect, giving him the option of having detention or getting Percy. Percy bending him over a table, spreading his cheeks and penetrating him with one dry, inquisitive finger. How he had tried to move away, only to feel the prefect’s tongue in his ass for a mere eternity before the other boy had shoved his long thin prick roughly up Marcus’s ass, and had fucked him hard enough that he’d had bruises from both the table and the prefect’s hipbones for nearly a month after.
That was all it took, the thought of how it had felt, the pressure, the heat, when Percy had exploded wetly inside him to make Marcus do the same. Letting out a strangled yell, he came, thick sticky come landing on his stomach and chest. Panting, Marcus forced himself to let go of his still pulsing cock. Eyeing his hand, he shrugged to himself and brought it to his mouth to lick his mess off of it. That had been something Percy had made him do. Lick up the remains of both of their orgasms; Marcus’s fluids from his own hand, and Percy’s liquids from his still twitching cock, fresh out Marcus’s sore, leaking ass.
Tasting the bitter remains of his passion on his hand, Marcus wondered to himself how the Gryffindors were beating the heat, and if one of their prefects might like some help cooling off.
Please review! Make me happy— I don’t torment those around me quite as much.
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