Superheroine Confessions: Entry 4 – ‘Fire & Ice, A Love Letter’

Dear Kurt,

(I still don’t know why I start these entries with that, you’re never going to read them. I hope no one ever does.)

I wish it hadn’t ended up like this, but really, you didn’t leave me a choice in the end. You’d just killed far too many people. I was the only one who stood a chance, of course they’d send me. That I was your ex wife, I’m sure, never crossed their minds.

Even before X-Day, you and I were opposites, somehow drawn to each other and yet still pushing each other away. In the time following; with my body transformed into a solid, living block of ice, getting close to anyone became an impossibility; physically, emotionally, or otherwise. You’d left a hole in me, and X-Day made what remained cold and untouchable. Fitting, then, that my body was the only one capable of withstanding the hate and fire you became so comfortable dealing out.

The wreckage of the house we once shared; sundered and charred, stood a stunning reminder of how far we’d fallen. There you were; glowing white, the air around you rippling with heat, staring me down. If you had intended for this to be poetic, like many things, I’ll never know. What I did know, was this stanza would be the last.

I couldn’t tell anyone which of us threw the first punch; I don’t honestly even think we were hurting each other. I think we were just punching each other…. because we felt we had to? Like that was just what we were supposed to do? Maybe because we were just angry. We were everything to each other, and X-Day took it all from us, everything. Maybe that’s why you burned down our house, maybe that’s why I became the literal Ice Queen. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

At some point, you grabbed my neck and I grabbed your wrist, and for a second, I lost myself; I just wanted you to put your fucking hands on me like you used to. I dipped my head back, bit my lip, and put your hand on my chest. We were there again: the time before. The stench of melting spandex couldn’t distract me from what I felt, your fire dug deep into me, touching that void in my soul.

You made the Ice Queen remember what it was like to be in heat.

You made me remember all the ways you used to make me wet.

Everywhere your fingers touched me, I tingled. Everywhere you caressed me, I sweat. Every time I pulled you in to kiss me, the air turned to steam, and strings of saliva trailed between us.

I had to take the chance, to know if I still could feel the way you made me feel down there. I grabbed you, tight and down near the base like you used to like, milking you with short strokes down by that bump of a vein on the side of your shaft. The most intimate of muscle memories came flooding back to us both.

I didn’t know if I could do it, didn’t know if my body worked that way anymore. I wrapped my arms around your neck, and you lifted me; cradling me as I wrapped my legs around you. I gasped out ‘H..H..Hoooot dickkk!!’ as you slowly eased your way in. I always loved when you did it slow, took your time.

We were a good fit before, you always hit the spot. This, though, was different; you were carving into me, now the fit was perfect, now everywhere you went, I was. I felt you touch me so deep, I didn’t care if it killed me or not. I tried to squeeze you, tried to contract my muscles, but I couldn’t feel the difference, couldn’t tell how it made you feel through all my screaming. All I wanted to do was ride you as you held me up, grind into you, get your warmth everywhere I could.

I dug my nails into you, not knowing if you’d bleed; I bit your neck so hard I thought my teeth would break. I came in ways I didn’t know I could cum, as my body became this shaking, quivering mess. I don’t think I’d ever been this wet, ever, not this way.

I think you tried to pull away as you yourself came, but I couldn’t let you get away, not again. I held you closer and closer, not knowing if I’d melt completely and you’d pass through me like I were never there. I cried out as you came, hot as lava, into the hole you’d left in me. I landed on top of you as you collapsed onto the ground, still inside me. I squeezed your neck; harder, and harder, and harder as you kept pulsing into me.

Then came the last time you made me wet.

I didn’t die, not as I heard the bones crunch, not as your body went limp, not as tears miraculously streamed out of me, freezing and disintegrating on my cheeks, and not as I cupped my hands on my belly, feeling myself close back up as I slid myself off of you. I cried for a long time, as I lay there next to you, the radiating heat of your last moment still lingering where my womb should have been, reminding me.

I quit the next day. They couldn’t do anything about it, even if they wanted to. I’d served my purpose, and they had no more use for me. You’d given me the last thing I’d thought I’d ever want, I wasn’t about to give it up for anything.

Now, every day that passes, this piece of you inside me grows, gets hotter, and is always bringing me back to the last time I ever saw you. I relive that passion over and over, all the while hopeful, and fearful. When your son is born, will it kill me? Will his birth be as orgasmic as his conception? Will….will that hole that was there no longer feel filled? Will I once again become the Ice Queen.

I don’t know, but the truth is: not knowing makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt, and for that, I’ll always love you.

​

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/fdkkg3/superheroine_confessions_entry_4_fire_ice_a_love