A piece of ice

Summer that year just couldn't seem to gain momentum, and the June nights were colder than Sasha would have liked during her balcony conversations with her only friend who hadn't been in her bed. Wrapped in a blanket, Olya was enthusiastically talking about her new job, the meaning of which eluded Sasha. For her, work seemed a pitiful and tedious affair, necessary only to fund her passions, of which there were only two: coffee and women. Or rather, women and coffee. For Olga, on the contrary, the meaning of life revolved between respectability and professional victories, while sex didn't interest her at all. Despite a clear understanding,

of where money comes from, Olga always spent it easily on those she considered friends, which made sharing an apartment with Sasha possible, as the latter's money appeared infrequently and even less often was it intended for rent.

Sasha sat with a mug of scalding hot coffee and an autumn jacket draped over her shoulders; for an hour she couldn't find the words to ask about what had been troubling her for the past few days. Finally, deciding it couldn't possibly get any worse, she took a big gulp from her favorite mug and asked:

— You're not planning to go away anywhere soon, are you?

Olga was lost in her thoughts, so she didn't hear the question right away:

— What am I in the near future?

— You don't have any business trips planned? — Sasha began to feel this was a bad idea. She hadn't had money for rent for three months now, and asking if her roommate was planning to go somewhere was a bit ill-timed. However, her new flame's living conditions were even worse, and you can't last long on coffee alone — Sasha was sure of that.

— Don't worry, I'm flying out for three days next week. You'll get to fuck to your heart's content. — Olga spoke in a calm voice, but a slight sarcasm could be detected in her words.

— Olyaaaaaa… — Sanka stretched towards her, — I'll do the dishes, clean up and… and what else can I do for you?

— And what are you willing to do? — Olga hugged the girl who had sat on her lap.

— Anything. — for greater conviction, Sasha shook her head and tried to put on a serious expression.

— Then kiss me. — Olga whispered this with an unusually tender tone for her and smiled, looking straight into Sasha's eyes.

Not a second passed before all of Sasha's feigned seriousness fell away. Startled, she pulled away from Olga, slid off her lap and, waving her arms, barely managed not to lose her balance.

— Ol, are you serious? — unfamiliar notes could be heard in the girl's head, either surprise or fright.

— God, Sasha! Stop thinking you're so enchanting that everyone wants to drag you into bed. — all of Olya's sarcasm returned, her brows furrowed, and she finally pushed Sasha off her lap. — Better find yourself a job, for a change.

— Damn, Ol, you know that…

— … That I'm looking, blah blah blah. It's just that no one wants to pay you only for guzzling your swill by the liter and chasing every skirt.

— For your information… — Sasha bristled, trying to sink into the jacket as much as possible.

— No, Sasha! The fact that you have taste in women and drinks is not 'for your information'. 'For your information' is that I don't want to pay for you anymore. I don't mind, but it deprives you of motivation to move forward. Starting next month, we split it fifty-fifty, and that's final. Look for a job, if you don't find anything, I'll clean you up and take you on as my secretary. You'll bring me coffee, for which you have such excellent taste.

— And will I need to bring women for you? — Sasha's good mood was starting to return, as there was a whole month until the morning of the Streltsy execution. Who knows, Olga might forget about this conversation.

— No, keep the women for yourself. I don't like them. — Olga continued to sulk, though she tried not to show it.

— Maybe I should find some guys for you, huh? — Sasha made a new attempt to sit on her roommate's lap.

— You know I don't need anyone, Sash. Let's not bring up this topic again. — Olga had already completely calmed down after the unpleasant conversation about rent.

— Well how can that be, no one? We've lived together for two years, and I've never seen you with anyone… I haven't even heard you talk about anyone. You're 25, not 50! — Sasha got back on her favorite hobby horse.

— I don't have time for that, — Olga tried to brush off the topic like a pesky fly. — Someone has to work, not everyone is destined to have fun.

— Or maybe you have someone and you're not telling me? — Sasha squinted and tried to catch Olga's gaze.

— I don't have anyone, and you know it. If someone appeared, you'd be the first to know. And let's just drop this topic.

— Oh no we won't. We've closed this topic a hundred times. — Sasha was getting worked up.

— Sasha, we've closed this topic a hundred times because you've started it a hundred times. I've already told you I don't have such a dependency on sex as you do, and I'm not interested in it. Do you understand me or not? — Olga was starting to get angry.

— Well you've had a few guys, so what? Did you not like it that much?

— Why? I liked it… — Olga thought, delving into memories. — But there are a bunch of things that are way cooler.

— It's all because men fuck disgustingly, but girls…

— Oh, don't start, please. And girls know how to give each other pleasure. If you're so knowledgeable on this subject, then add this to your knowledge — you'll give me pleasure if you get off me. My legs are asleep, and you're fidgeting.

— Are you sure I can't give you pleasure in any other way? — Sasha hugged Olga and tried to give her face a languid expression.

— You're so funny, I swear. Get off me, come on.

Olga pushed Sasha off her knees and went into the room.

— In half an hour I'm going to bed, and you either go to bed with me or sleep on the balcony. I have to get up early. — she shouted.

Sasha shrugged, drank the last sips from the mug, then put it on the windowsill and stepped into the room.

— And wash the mug! — came from the bathroom.

— As if I don't remember myself — Sasha snorted, returned to the balcony and with a deft movement grabbed the mug from the windowsill.

Half an hour later, the girls were lying on the bed, hugging each other.

Olga was sitting in the nearest coffee shop to the house and was angry. Tired and exhausted, after a very difficult business meeting and a flight, she only wanted to take a shower and go to sleep. Knowing about Sasha's love affairs, she had warned her in advance about when and at what time she planned to return, but she never answered. Apparently, March in June was in full swing. It was half past five in the morning, and Olya didn't even guess, she knew that Sasha was sleeping, and sleeping not alone. After a mug of coffee she hated, 18 years of calls and half an hour, Olga decided she'd had enough and headed home with a determined step.

Deciding she needed to give Sasha a head start, she knocked on the door several times, as the doorbell didn't work, and only after about five minutes opened the door with her own key.

As it turned out, all her preparations were in vain. Sasha was hugging a girl unknown to Olya and sleeping soundly. Every time she left, Olga told her roommate when she would return, and she managed to clean up all traces of Sodom and Gomorrah before Olya arrived from the airport. However, this time the apartment's decor was presented in the brightest colors. A couple of whiskey bottles were lying on the floor, the mirror was scribbled with lipstick, and the room smelled of sex, which couldn't be confused with anything else.

— Okay, ladies… — Olga put her hands on her hips and yelled across the apartment — Rise and shine, incomparable ones!

Sasha shuddered and lifted her head from the pillow. Her eyes clearly said she had gone to bed a couple of hours ago. The girl next to her began to wake up, her whole demeanor showing she didn't like such an early awakening.

— Okay, you have fifteen minutes to

get ready and order a taxi. I really want to sleep, and I warned you I was coming today. — Olya was too tired to argue.

— Not today, but on Thursday. — Sasha grumbled.

— Today is Thursday, kitten. — grumbled the girl unknown to Olga.

— Exactly, — Olya supported her, — so get ready quickly and get out of here.

— And where should we go? Nadya's dorm is still closed. Maybe we can sleep together, there's enough room for three, huh? — Sasha really didn't want to wake up.

— No way, I'm going to sleep with strange girls in the same bed. — Olya snorted.

She was full of determination to send both Sasha and her new friend for a walk, but she understood they would be getting ready, looking for their things all over the apartment, and the coveted sleep was so close.

— Screw it, but I'll remember this specifically about you. — Olya showed Sasha her fist.

Olga quickly went to the bathroom, grabbed the shorts and T-shirt she usually slept in and a minute later was in bed with the two girls. Their hot bodies and the smell of sex in the air stirred her imagination, but fatigue took its toll, and Olya fell into sleep.

When she woke up, it was already evening, Sasha and Nadya were gone, and she could calmly think over everything that had accumulated in her head.

Her career had been rapid and easy, and for half a year she hadn't been paying rent. She had bought the apartment from the landlady, as she very conveniently decided to sell it. She didn't know how to tell Sasha about this, and didn't see much point — she wasn't paying even a third of what she should for the apartment anyway. In any case, this news would have given rise to new questions, which Olga diligently tried to avoid. Her car wasn't bought on credit at all, and her suits cost ten times more than she told Sasha. And she hadn't been working as an employee for a long time; the company, in which she worked as a department head in Sasha's eyes, belonged to her. Olga understood that a chasm had grown between them, which increased every day, and if she told Sasha the truth, she would lose her forever. As regrettable as it was, Sasha wouldn't be able to come to terms with such glaring class inequality and would distance herself from Olga. And if telling the truth about her position was difficult for Olga, telling the truth about her feelings for Sasha was simply impossible. For two years now, Olya hadn't had anyone, because all her thoughts were only about Sasha. She even lied about supposedly existing boyfriends so she wouldn't have to talk about how she had relationships with girls that ended due to different interests, and two years ago she fell head over heels in love with a girl with whom she had been sharing a bed platonically for two years.

Lost in her thoughts, Olya didn't notice Sasha's return.

— Hi, sleepyhead! — Sasha smelled of coffee and cheerfulness. She jumped onto the bed and pecked Olya on the lips.

— Hi, party girl! — Olga remembered she had every reason to be offended.

— Let's not fight? I'll try to atone for my guilt today. — Sasha went out into the hallway and returned with a bag in her hands. — Here.

Olya took the bag and took out a bottle of wine.

— Wow, expensive. — the girl was holding a bottle of her favorite wine, costing about three thousand per bottle.

— We're going to celebrate your return — Sasha gave her voice a note of solemnity and ran to the kitchen for a corkscrew.

Half an hour later, when Olya came out of the shower, she found glasses, an open bottle, and a couple of lit candles on the table.

— What an honor — she quipped. — I thought only your fleeting flings got this.

— Don't be such a grump. — Sasha hugged her friend from behind, pressing her whole body against her. — Let's forget today about how caustic we can be and just celebrate your return?

— Okay. — Olga gave in.

The girls drank a glass of wine each, Olga passionately told the details of her business trip, mercilessly mocking the terrible accent of the partner company's commercial director, his huge belly and his stupid habit of scratching the back of his head.

— How are you feeling after the flight? — asked Sasha. — Your back doesn't hurt?

— It hurts a lot, I think it's going to fall off soon. — Olya whined.

— Let me give you a massage. I misbehaved today, putting you in an awkward situation.

— Alright, as payment for your disgusting behavior, I'll accept a massage. — relaxed Olga took off her T-shirt and lay face down on the bed.

Sasha got the massage oil, poured it on her hands and began to rub Olga's back. (Erotic stories) Her movements were confident, she knew where the aching pain was lodged and knew how to rid her friend of it. After about twenty minutes, Sasha threw out: "I'll be a minute," jumped off Olya and left the room.

Olga was so relaxed that she didn't notice when her friend returned. She felt light strokes on her back, which finally took her mind to another reality. Suddenly, she felt something wet and cold slide across her back. And again. And again… Sasha had taken a small piece of ice from the refrigerator and was carefully moving it across her friend's back. Touching the heated back for a second, she immediately moved her hand with the ice away. Olga shuddered every time Sasha touched her. It was bliss.

After playing with her for another minute, Sasha put the ice on the nightstand by the bed, leaned down and, licking the droplets from the melted ice, ran her tongue over the shoulder blade. Olga didn't immediately understand what was happening, and when her mind returned, Sasha had already managed to cover her entire back with kisses and move higher. The moment Sasha touched Olya's neck with her lips, she finally lost control, drowning under a wave of sensations…