The Snow Queen Gets Lonely - Sex Stories

The Snow Queen Gets Lonely

... She summoned her magic, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. Ice and snow swirled around her as she drew on all her powers.

She began with the frame of his body, spinning threads of ice into an icy outline of a man, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A miniature blizzard of snow and frost swirled around as the ice yielded under her touch, forming his muscular arms and legs. Next, a well-defined torso, abdominal muscles rippling with frozen strength.

Then, the face. She shaped his jawline, strong and chiseled, and carved full lips that were enticing, even in their frozen state. His eyes were the most challenging—she wanted them to hold depth, a silent promise of understanding and companionship. She gave him high cheekbones and a straight, noble nose.

His hair was carved to fall in icy waves, framing his face with an ethereal charm. The final touch was his eyes, which she crafted to be a captivating azure, mirroring her own. They held an uncanny depth, a silent understanding that reached out to her.

Freya stepped back and admired her icy creation. The sculpture was a vision of male perfection, every muscle finely chiseled, the handsome face noble yet alluring. She allowed her eyes to wander over the broad shoulders, the muscular arms, his chiseled abdomen and narrow hips. Her gaze traveled lower, and she gasped. There, between the sculpture's legs, was nothing but a smooth void.

She had forgotten to give him his manhood.

A fierce blush ...

... spread over Freya's cheeks as she realized her oversight. She wavered for a moment, both excited and embarrassed by the prospect of crafting so intimate a detail, but then she realized that, after all, she was creating him to meet not just her desire for emotional companionship, but to satisfy certain,physical, needs; and without the required equipment, he could not fulfill his purpose.

Thus, she approached the next task with a delicate balance of blushing embarrassment and focused determination. With the precision of a master sculptor, she carved out a generous and impressive appendage, standing proudly erect, as grand as the rest of his icy form.

She stepped back, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of accomplishment and anticipation. Standing tall and regal before her was a man carved of ice, a magnificent monument to her power and her longing.

The final step was, of course, the most crucial—to imbue her icy creation with life. Freya stood before her masterpiece, her eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. She raised her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she summoned her magic. A soft, ethereal glow emanated from her fingertips, casting a pale light on the icy figure before her.

She moved in a complex flurry, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. The air around her crackled with energy, the temperature dropping as the magic intensified. With a flourish, she directed the energy towards her creation.

But nothing happened.

A ...