Frisky the snowman, p.1
Frisky the Snowman, page 1
FRISKY THE SNOWMAN
LAUREN BIEL
Copyright © 2023 by Lauren Biel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Frisky the Snowman/Lauren Biel 1st ed.
Cover Design: Lori Rivera
Editing: Sugar Free Editing
Interior Design: Sugar Free Editing
For more information on this book and the author, visit: www.LaurenBiel.com
Please visit LaurenBiel.com for a full list of content warnings.
This story is for my readers who fantasize about sleeping with snowmen. To the rest of you, enjoy unlocking a new kink!
CONTENTS
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Connect with Lauren
Acknowledgments
Also by Lauren Biel
About the Author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is a spicy Christmas novelette that isn’t meant to be taken too seriously. I mean, it’s a story about a woman fucking a snowman! Happy Hoe-lidays!
CHAPTER ONE
Holly
Winter rolled over my cabin in the woods like a lion overnight. In half a day, a foot of snow has fallen, rising above my feet as I stand in the doorway. Cool air whips at my legs beneath my knee-length skirt, but my ankles and feet stay warm within my winter boots. I walk into the crisp, white snow, my boots crunching and patting down the powder with every step. My gloved hand reaches down and gathers a ball of snow, packing it together before I set it down and start rolling it. The ball grows in front of me as I push it around the yard.
My thighs begin to itch from the cold, but an excited warmth keeps me going. I’ve waited for this first real snowfall for weeks, and no amount of cold will stop me from what I’ve planned. I rub the snowball’s large curves and twitch with anticipation. A soft sigh escapes me. Nothing is as perfectly wonderful as a round ball of pure white.
Once the first ball is too large to fit my arms around, I start working on the next. Breath seeps out of me in visible clouds. My nipples harden to painful points as the cold sinks below my clothes. But I don’t care. I keep going until I roll the second ball beside the first.
Before I put it where it belongs, I stop to straddle the first mound of snow. The hard-packed ice freezes my slit as I rub it along the friction-filled surface.
There’s something about snow for me. I’m obsessed with the stuff. Most people find building a snowman fun, but I find it erotic. I’m crafting a perfect man, with a big, round lower body, a smooth midriff, and a perfectly shaped “head” on top.
With a grunt, I raise the second ball and place it on the first. Now I can begin to work on the head—my favorite part.
I roll and shape and roll some more until I’m happy with the size. My snowman must be proportional, after all, and he needs enough space for his handsome features. I plop this final ball on top of the first two and rush inside to grab his other necessities.
The backpack I packed an hour ago sits by the entryway. It rattles a bit as I hoist it over my shoulder and head back outside. I drop it beside my snowy hunk and dig around in the bag’s open mouth. Pieces of coal rattle in my hand as I stare at the three-piece man in front of me. I stick one black orb into the left side of his face, then another into the right. They’re a bit lopsided, and that just won’t do. I adjust them until they’re even. Snow is forgiving that way.
Using a few more pieces of coal, I form his mouth into a cute and permanent smile, leaving a vacant space just above it for his nose. As I step back to survey my work so far, my foot bumps the backpack and sends the contents tumbling out. I grip one of the carrots and put it in place.
“Your nose, sir,” I say through a laugh as I pack a little snow around it to keep it in place.
My gaze drops to the bag once more, and I spot the pièce de résistance—the biggest carrot I could find at the store. Like, scary big. I wrap my hands around it and smile.
“But he already has a nose,” I whisper, tapping the carrot across my chest. “What could he possibly need another one of these for?”
My eyes drop to the huge, round, sexy ball at the bottom of his body, and I shove the carrot’s base into the packed snow. My grunts punctuate the night air as I struggle to get it in, but the snow finally spreads enough to let me attach his glorious accent piece.
I step back and stare at the man I created. My big, white snowman with a nice-sized carrot dick.
“I dub thee Frisky the snowman,” I say, putting my hands on my hips.
I bunch my skirt around my waist and expose my naked ass to the cold air, then I step into him and run my warm tongue along his mouth. A gritty mixture of coal and snow brushes over my lips. As I kiss him, I reach down and stroke his carrot. The ungodly large vegetable fills my entire palm. The warm wetness between my legs intensifies as I stroke and kiss him until I’m almost ready to burst. If he were human, I’m sure he would have by now.
My hands race over what would be his shoulders, and I lean back. “Whoops! I almost forgot your arms.”
I grab the sticks from the pile next to him and stab one into each side of his midriff. He’s nearly perfect now. I consider using a few more pieces of coal for buttons, but I decide against it. I can dress him later if I wish . . . once I’ve had some fun.
I pull off my gloves and drop them into the snow. My zipper squeaks as I pull it down and spread my jacket. When I lower my cami, my breasts fall from the fabric. I rub the edge of his forked stick arm along my pebbling skin.
“Do you like how my tits feel, Frisky?” I moan. “Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to ride your long, hard, orange cock?” I turn and back myself against the big snowy ball. The carrot fills my hand as I ease myself onto it, and I gasp as Frisky fills the aching space between my thighs.
It’s been nearly a year since I’ve felt this good. I fuck myself with carrots the other nine months out of the year, but it’s not the same. I’ve tried. Nothing compares to the firm body of an icy snowman. I even filled pillowcases with ice one summer to see if I could replicate the feeling, but nothing comes close to this.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I pant. I lean back so I can feel him behind me. His cold body is like a wall. God, it’s electric, even as my thighs become numb.
The ice begins to burn the hand I’ve wrapped around the carrot, but I can’t stop. I dip my other hand between my legs and rub my clit. In theory, it should be hard to come with both the skin of my clit and fingers so frozen, but I can almost mentally get off from knowing the security camera is catching everything.
I’ll be able to fuck myself to me fucking Frisky all year long.
I look up at the camera and smirk before throwing my head back as the explosion of warm come washes between my legs. I orgasm hard enough to rip off his big carrot cock. It sinks into the snow between my feet. I kneel and wrap my lips around the carrot, holding it between my teeth, then I place it back in the original location. The correct position.
I grip the base and wiggle it back in, but before I let go, I suck more of the orange member into my mouth until my nose is nearly touching the snow. Cold air mixes with my warm breath, but I won’t stop until I’ve cleaned my come from his cock.
When I’ve finished my task, I lean back on my heels to give my knees a break from the frigid ground. My gaze dashes around the dark backyard. I contemplate hiding his cock, because it’s mine, but I leave it attached. Though I know no one else will see him on this back road, it still excites me to know that if someone drove down this road, they’d see the used carrot sticking out of his lap. My carrot. The one I buried deep in my pussy.
I get to my feet and place a kiss on his frozen cheek. “See you tomorrow, Frisky.”
CHAPTER TWO
Frisky
I’m immovable but not emotionless. I think and feel. My first memory is of that woman’s tongue along my mouth, then the warmth of her plump breast against my hand. I tried to move, to rock with her motions and feel more of her soft skin, but I couldn’t. As I try again now, my fingers refuse to wiggle unless a strong breeze moves them for me. I can only look directly ahead, at a dark forest and a mailbox. I try to speak, but my lips remain in place.
What happened? What am I? And where did the beautiful woman go?
I want to feel what I felt when she was in front of me. I didn’t know what was happening, but the wet warmth, the tightness . . . I need more. I have no choice but to sit and wait for her to appear again. I’m at her mercy.
The sun goes down, sending blinding rays of light against the snow. The night sky glows with stars. A gentle creaking sound interrupts the silent night, and footsteps approach. I want to turn my head and glimpse her again, because I know she’s behind me. Warmth radiates from her body, and the familiar scent of cinnamon grows stronger. When she finally appears in front of me, a war
Her beautiful blonde hair sits in a sloppy bun on her head, and purple earmuffs cover her ears. A pink hue tints her nose and cheeks. She’s wearing a skirt again, though this one is a bit shorter. It reveals the tops of her thighs, and I long to grip them. A hint of torture taints the pleasure she brings me, but I don’t care. I just want to feel her again.
“Evening, Frisky,” she whispers before running her tongue along my lips again.
Hello, snow princess, I want to say, but my mouth doesn’t cooperate. The soft pad of her tongue rolls over each piece of coal. Lower with that mouth, I whisper in my head.
As if she somehow hears me, she drops to her bare knees, rips off a glove, and wraps a warm hand around something on my lower body. “Have you been waiting for me to come out and touch your cock?” she whispers.
Yes, fucking touch my cock.
I’m guessing my cock is right where that warm tingle happened. And it’s happening again as her fingers stroke me. The sensation shifts, and now wet warmth engulfs me. It’s similar to what I felt when she kissed my coal lips, so I assume she’s using her mouth on me. I can’t look down and see her, but I feel each hungry bob of her head and envision what that must look like.
Fucking perfection.
She sucks on me until I’m certain her knees are ice, and then she stands and eyes me with a dark hunger as she raises her little skirt and straddles me. The warmth between her legs is like a furnace compared to the cold I’m made of.
“Do you want to be inside me, Frisky?” It sounds like a question, but I realize it’s not as she rubs her slit against me. She’ll fuck me regardless of my wishes. Lucky for me, we both want the same thing.
Her arms wrap around me as she lowers herself on me, and every part she touches becomes sentient. When her pussy wraps around me, when it clenches and grips me, I’m done for.
She buries me deep, and I wish I could fuck her in the way she deserves. I long to pull her against me before I rail her. But experiencing this is a gift, even if I can’t actively participate.
She grips me as she rides me, fucking me until my cock pops off. I can no longer feel her wrapped around me when it disengages from my body, which is a shame. I want to know what she feels like when she comes. She’s a fucking angel, and I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful and perfect.
Her feral screams quiet and her body stops quivering. With a pleasure-filled sigh, she leans against me.
Good girl, snow princess.
She pulls the carrot from inside her, cleans it off with her mouth, and reattaches it before standing and turning to face me. “I forgot to give you a hat,” she whispers. She eases a beanie from her coat pocket and plops it onto my head. The fabric doesn’t fit around my head, but it stays in place. “See you soon, Frisky.” She places a final kiss on my lips and goes inside.
I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up confused as shit. I take a step back and nearly scream because I took a fucking step back. I wiggle my fingers and look down when they move. I’m no longer made of snow. And I’m naked. Jesus. I rush to the window and stare at my reflection with a dropped jaw.
I look like her.
Like a human.
I touch my face before looking back at the spot I came from. Footprints pepper the snow, but there’s no sign of my previous existence. “Snow princess,” I whisper, and the sound of my own voice startles me.
I want to see her. She created me, after all. I follow her cinnamon scent to the front door and try the knob. It turns in my grasp, so I push open the door and step into a rush of warm air. Much warmer than I’m used to.
Shit, I’m going to melt!
Panic seizes me, especially when a drop of liquid falls from my forehead. I’ll have to act quickly.
I follow her scent through the dark hallway until it grows stronger, and I stop in front of a door. Her bedroom, I’m guessing. With a gentle push, the door eases open and I sneak inside the room. Her scent overpowers me here. It’s intoxicating.
My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I spot her sleeping form on the bed. I creep closer. The gentle curves of her cleavage rise and fall with each even breath she takes. Her perfectly pouted lips call to me, but I don’t want to wake her.
A flash of light and movement catches my eyes, and I look closer. In her hand rests her phone. A video plays on a loop. I recognize what’s happening on the screen because I was there, but I looked much different.
Panic ratchets through me again.
She was attracted to the me I was before, so what will she think when she sees me like this? I’m no longer white and cold and motionless. My round curves and stick arms have been replaced by skin and warmth. She won’t want this.
I glance down at my cock. It’s still very large, orange, and thick all the way to the tip. I grip it and tug. Unlike before, it doesn’t pop off. This is a slight improvement, but is it enough?
She shifts in the bed, and her breasts pop from the top of her thin shirt. Hunger rushes through me at the sight of her perfection. I want to suck, taste, and touch. But I can’t. She can never know what I am.
I pick up her phone and delete the clips of me running into the house as a human, then I disarm the cameras. That takes care of one problem, but it does nothing for the ache I feel inside. Maybe if I touch myself the way she touched me, I can ease this discomfort.
I lie beside her in the bed and wrap my hand around my cock. I imagine her fucking me. I imagine me fucking her. The warm tingle grows and spreads, and come shoots from my cock and lands beside her on the bed. A heady peppermint aroma overpowers her cinnamon scent. She’s sure to wake up now.
I ease out of the bed and rush from the house. Once I’m back in my spot, I rip the hat from my head. It’s causing me to melt faster, and I can’t have that. I want to see her again. I can only hope that I’ll return to my snowy form by morning. She can’t ever see me like this.
“See you soon, snow princess,” I whisper.
CHAPTER THREE
Holly
I sigh and transfer my sheets from the washer to the dryer. I don’t know what wetness I woke up in, but it was all over my sheets. It smelled like peppermint candy and was sort of sticky as well, but the wash seems to have removed the sweet smell. I had a shit day at work, and cleaning my sheets was the last thing I wanted to do.
I go to the window and stare at Frisky. He could relieve my tension, but I prefer to wait until night for our . . . activities. Something dark moves in the breeze, and I realize his hat has blown onto his stick hand. Wrapping my coat around me, I hurry outside and place it back on his head.
“Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold,” I say with a giggle.
My gaze drifts lower. So tempting.
I hurry back inside, go to the fridge, and pull a carrot from the drawer. After washing it, I lower my pants and prop myself on the kitchen island. My legs spread and I begin teasing myself with the cold vegetable. It isn’t as thick as Frisky’s carrot cock, but it will get the job done.
If anyone happens by the kitchen windows in front of and behind me, they’ll get a real show, but I don’t care. There are perks to living in the middle of nowhere, such as the ability to fuck myself in a big room full of windows. The risk only adds to my excitement.
A gasp leaves my mouth as I push the carrot past my entrance. My hand works at a feverish pace to thrust it against the place inside me that makes my toes curl. I close my eyes and imagine I’m with Frisky. He has hands that touch me in all the right places, and he pounds into me as he fucks me senseless.
My thighs quiver, and I throw my head back as the familiar tightening engulfs the space between my legs. I yank out the carrot just in time to gush all over the kitchen floor. Thank god for linoleum. Easy cleanup. I bathe in the aftershocks of my orgasm until I’m satisfied, then I mop up the mess I made and toss the carrot into the trash.
