Hoar frost…

‘Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.’
Robert Frost, Fire and Ice

He is a creature of the night, dancing under the gaze of the moon and stars. On clear nights, their music fills the darkness and Jack Frost dances with greater glee. Spinning across the fields, tap dancing on lakes and puddles; his touch leaves crystal traces on the leaves and glazing on the water. He is a whirling, twisting dynamo of ice and snow, and he dances with frozen gaiety.

He dances for her; he dances to create beauty for her. The crackling icicles that he draws out of the eaves are there for her enjoyment. The glittering spider’s web that traces across windows and the spiky trim that he builds on each stem of grass is created to make her smile. He decorates the trees with sparkling frost and guilds the telegraph wires with electric fire. Delicate fingers trail across car windscreens, leaving complex, crystalline patterns in their wake. He swirls across her world, adorning each surface with hoar frost in the hope that it will please her.

He works furiously throughout the night, creating a winter wonderland just for her, working until the first pale tendrils of light start to peek over the horizon and announce her imminent arrival. He works harder to add the final touches to his nightly masterpiece and, as the darkness drifts away, a faint warm glow rises; she is here. His love, his pain, his Dawn.

As the sun rises and she reveals her glory, he feels her. Her heat touches his skin and ignites a fire deep in his belly. His dance slows and he stretches out, basking in her light. His frozen, frosty display twinkles in her delighted smile and he swells with happiness at her approval. This is what he has waited for, but it burns him; a blazing ache stoking the lust building inside him.

She reaches out and strokes a long, flaming finger across his cheek. The scalding pain burns white hot and leaves a blistering pleasure in its place. Each touch hurts, cracking the ice in his core, but he needs it. Each crack spills over with bliss, each molten stream that flows from him does so with aching joy. The surging agony allows him a release that he cannot find alone in his frozen heart.

Taking his hands, she joins in his dance. Together they glide through his slowly vanishing world, bodies melting together, kisses sparking with frost and fire. He arches into her and she embraces him entirely. And as his climax detonates within him, he bursts into a billion sparkling shards that scatter across the landscape.

As he melts into the earth in post-orgasmic bliss, he eagerly awaits the onset of night. With the darkness, he will reform and recreate his icy scene for her. They will replay their daily devastating dance until winter is over and Jack Frost will slip away for another year, planning new creations to warm his lover’s heart…

UPDATE: Exhibit A has re-opened his outstanding Christmas Erotica collection and this story seemed to fit the ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’ prompt pretty well! Do check out all of the other submissions, they’re wonderful!

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14 thoughts on “Hoar frost…

  1. This is a gorgeous piece of writing, Livvy. I think about the connections between nature and sexuality often, and this is a really lovely personification. I love the idea of aching to be destroyed in order to recreate.

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