Cold Shower (Patreon)

Peter had landed in hot water before, but a sauna was new.

Course, he hadn’t exactly landed there. Madame Web was a little more considerate than that. He and the Web Warriors—it seemed like there should’ve been a New in there somewhere—had hit Arendelle in the middle of a blizzard the size of Toledo. They’d been dumped right outside the castle gates, and their portal attracted enough attention for the guards to bring them up to the throne room for questioning.

There were three of them. Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, someone who claimed to be his daughter from the future (this seemed wildly optimistic as to his chances with hot redheads), and a version of him from a universe where his mom had dated Humphrey Bogart. They affectionately nicknamed him Noir, which he put up with only because Peter had been nicknamed ‘Daddy’ by Mayday.

They’d been on enough of these little dimensional roundabouts to get the lay of the land quick. Arendelle was a peaceful medieval kingdom, with little magic or mythology beyond Queen Elsa, who was two X-Men in one. Storm and Iceman. She was managing the heavy winter so it came down hard, but steered clear of human settlements. The capital city was a snowglobe, the winds magically staying a quarter-mile from the walls.

Usually, that meant they’d end up fighting her, but Elsa seemed pretty chill. Her younger sister served as a sort of chief of staff, and she took an instant liking to them—even Elsa wasn’t too suspicious of them. Sister Anna’s boyfriend, Kristoff… he seemed to be the all-purpose ‘guy’ of the kingdom… was assigned to be their minder, and they were housed in some luxurious quarters until the weather broke.

They were also invited to dinner. Unlike Peter’s own universe, these guys seemed pretty receptive to strange travelers, and were eager to hear their stories. Meanwhile, back in ol’ 616, New York was out to set a world record in lynch mobs.

“So what are we doing here, anyway?” Peter asked, getting his warmth back by the fire. His spider-suit may have been endlessly toyetic, but it wasn’t much for insulation. “Our missions usually have a more ‘set right what once went wrong’ vibe.”

“Maybe it’s a vacation,” Mayday suggested. “There are no universes out of whack, so Web’s letting us relax in IRL Disneyland.”

“And how many bridges have you bought with that attitude, sister?” Noir asked. Funny the way the only one of them old enough to buy beer was also the one who most needed to drink one. “You can’t trust those in power. Even in this kingdom, someone’s left out in the cold.”

“Oooh, thematic!” Mayday teased.

“She’s right,” Peter said. “Usually we at least get a pep talk, or something equally cryptic. No FYIs means I guess we’re supposed to be ourselves.”

Noir grunted. “That my cue to check out the slums?”

“It’s Camelot, Noir, there aren’t slums.”

“We’ll see,” Noir said, grabbing a heavy winter coat from the wardrobe. It hid his costume, and made him look more badass. He seemed to have a knack for that. For a guy from a world where Dior hadn’t been born yet, he had a hell of a fashion sense.

He left out the window.

“I really hope he isn’t right,” Mayday said. “If he gets any more cynical, we’re going to have to start calling him by a new genre. Torture Porn or something.”

“Don’t know about you, but my spider-sense has been playing dead ever since we got here,” Peter told her. “Maybe we’re just supposed to… raise morale. Spiders are all about weaving the web of life, right? Maybe this is just shoring up a few strands, not keeping anything from blowing up.”

“As long as there’s food, I’m good either way.”

The meal was excellent, the company charming, though a little put out that Noir couldn’t join them. Peter told a few war stories, as did Mayday—odd to hear about himself as a parent—while the royals shared their own history. Afterward, Peter left Mayday to her girltalk with the queen and the princess, and hit the steam room Elsa had generously volunteered to him. It was the perfect aid to his digestion, and he simpered into it, relaxing to the point of bonelessness. Maybe Mayday was right. Maybe this was all just a well-earned vacation.

In the room outside the sauna, there was a window with a bucket of water on the sill. You were meant to pour it over your head and rinse off the sweat you’d just accumulated. Peter opened the shutters, but there was no bucket. He stood there, starting to feel familiarly ridiculous, all sweaty and clad only in a towel—he certainly didn’t want to put his borrowed clothes back on while covered in sweat.

“Master Parker?” a voice came.

Peter turned. There was Elsa, the Queen. She reminded him of Felicia a little—Noir had said it, and it’d been hard to get out of his mind. She had the same pale skin, the same white hair—not the body, no one had the body, but the same confidence with which she wore her tight, insubstantial dress. It lavished over a sleek, svelte body, turning her curves into a cascade of blue, like a layer of ice had frozen over her, the gown a million tiny icicles hanging from her.

“We’re all Parker,” Peter said automatically. “It might be best just to go with Peter.”

“Peter,” she said, not seeming to notice he’d only gone with smartassery out of sheer panic. “How are you finding Arendelle?”

“You know, very warm, very friendly—“ Don’t say warm. “It’s nice.”

“I’m glad to hear my kingdom meets with your approval,” Elsa said frostily. “I understand you’ll be leaving us shortly.”

Apparently ‘nice’ wasn’t what she was looking for. Or maybe she just had resting bitchface for a personality, like Liz Allan.

“Well, you know,” Peter hemmed. “Eventually. We’re just passing through, we’re not in the market for a three-bedroom or anything.”

Elsa nodded. Then, oddly, she bit her lip.

It struck Peter as a strange expression for such a cold fish to make.

***

It had all started at dinner. Ever since her audience with the strangers, Elsa had felt odd, and the more she sat and watched Peter, the worse she felt. He would talk animatedly with Anna and Kristoff, so weird in his own way, but charming and gregarious, and strange, and new… her whole body had started to ache, centered in her breasts. Elsa had tried to ignore it, but it had only gotten worse. By the time they’d finished dessert, she’d been ready to scream.

Now Elsa crossed her arms, holding them against the heavy mounds of her breasts. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, hoping it wasn’t obvious through her dress.

“I only mean,” she said, “that if I were to ask you something, I could count on your discretion. Since you’ll be leaving so shortly. I’m not your Queen. I could ask you something I couldn’t ask of my subjects.”

***

A relieved smile took over Peter’s face. Not a vacation, good, he never could relax when the possibility existed that some craziness would start up any minute. Bring on the magical medieval quest. “Absolutely. Whatever I can do to help. What’s the problem?”

Elsa shrugged. “I… I can’t say.” Peter saw the twinned heft of her cleavage move under her gown. He realized suddenly that he could see her nipples expanding, pushing against the inside of her dress, and the sight made his cock stir. He gripped his towel tighter. “I just feel… funny inside. It started this morning and it’s been getting worse all day.”

Peter frowned. This morning. So it hadn’t been a problem before their arrival. That seemed odd. As a team of metaphysical firefighters, they usually didn’t show up until the house was in flames.

Elsa’s eyes darted to the towel. By bunching it so tightly in his hand, Peter had pulled it taut against his manhood. Elsa saw the outline of it through the down and it called forth a strange, wonderful ache in her belly. Without thinking, Elsa slid her hands down her waist, down to her thighs…

It was then Peter realized what was going on. He’d been jumping through dimensions for a while. It didn’t leave a lot of time for dating. It didn’t even leave much privacy for, well… “Do you really want me to help you, Elsa?”

“Please,” Elsa said softly. “My belly aches. My… my breasts do too,” she admitted, a blush penetrating the chill of her paleness.

Peter smiled reassuringly. “Elsa… you know about the birds and the bees, right?”

“We have many birds and bees in Arendelle…” Elsa replied, confused.

“I mean, you know what Anna and Kristoff do? When they’re alone?”

Elsa bit her lip again. “I had a very sheltered childhood. My parents died before they could—but I had tutors. And books.”

“But you’ve never actually…”

“It’s that what’s causing this?” Elsa insisted, her voice as soft as his had become. “Is that… what I want?”

Peter paused. “If you want me to, I’ll make you feel a lot better.”

He saw a flash of panic pass momentarily over Elsa’s face. “You’ll touch me, won’t you?” she asked anxiously.

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I do!” Elsa assured him with sudden vehemence. “You’re very handsome… and I may not have an opportunity like this again. But my powers… I’m not used to being touched.”

Peter gently laid one hand on her shoulder, careful only to touch the dress. It was cold, but not a stinging cold. Gentler, like ice water on a hot day. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Elsa shivered. Her eyes slipped downward again. “You are a… big boy…”

“I’ll have to take your bra off. Touch your breasts.”

Elsa felt so crazy. Her nipples were hurting more than ever—maybe exposing them would help. With a thought, she dispelled the magic that had frosted over her dress, the million ice particles that made it up dissolving into condensation.

Peter took a step back, gasping as he watched Elsa’s dress melt right off her. Just like that, she was naked, her body glistening with beads of moisture that had once been a rather modest dress. The reminder of how quickly she disrobed, in the form of a layer of misty moisture clinging to every curve and tautness on her, thrilled Peter even more than her nudity would of. He wondered if this was her sense of humor; teasing him over his own sweat-slick nakedness.

No, she seemed far too sincere for that. He didn’t think she knew how attractive she was, naked, her body dripping dry in the middle of the room.

Peter would show her.

His own palms moist with nervous perspiration, he gently cupped his hands over the firm mounds of her breasts. They were surprisingly warm.

“Ohhh!” Elsa’s eyes shut at the touch of his hands. It hurt so wonderfully! A strange heat was building up between her legs, hotter than she’d ever known, and she tried rubbing her thighs together, but it wouldn’t go away.

His cock getting harder every second, Peter slowly and gently massaged her breasts, feeling her nipples tightening under his fingers. The more he caressed her, the closer Elsa leaned to him, panting, writhing, unconscious of her actions.

“Feeling better now?” Peter asked, smelling her hair as she bowed her head to him.

“Somewhat!” Elsa gasped, with now-absurd poise. “But it really hurts down below… it really hurts!”

“Spread your legs,” Peter told her.

Dazed, Elsa did as she was told. She wasn’t telling the truth—it didn’t hurt, nor did it feel good, it was mostly just exciting. The touch of his hands on her body was like letting loose her magic all over again, as scary and as thrilling as power could be.

“I’m going to touch you some more, Elsa. All right?” If Elsa had looked down, she would’ve seen Peter’s cock brushing his tied towel aside.

“Anything,” Elsa sighed.

Keeping one hand on her breast, Peter reached down and slid his hand between her legs. Elsa kept her thighs together a moment, then a gentle flick of Peter’s finger on her nipple made her clench harder than ever. It felt like his finger was sticking to her nipple, making them cling together like a warm, wet tongue on ice. It made her aching nipple hurt worse, but also increased the scary thrill. She thought what she liked most of all was not being sure from moment to moment whether it hurt or felt good.

Elsa wanted to decide. She spread her legs apart, then shuddered as Peter’s expert fingers slid against the warmth of her pussy. He gently split her labia with his finger, feeling for the engorgement of her clit. When he found it, he used the static cling of his wallcrawling on it.

“Anna!” Elsa nearly screamed as he touched her, touched her in the one exact spot where all the pain was focused. A buzzing noise started in her head, ended as a roar. She didn’t think to call for her sister again. She became aware only of his fingers touching her, bringing their unburning heat to her nipples and her clit.

Peter stroked the writhing girl’s cunt, feeling her body shudder as she came closer and closer to orgasm. His own cock was throbbing madly, and if he could concentrate on anything other than Elsa’s wild pleasure, he would’ve thought how good the tightness greeting his fingers would feel on his manhood.

“Ahhhhh!” Elsa screamed hoarsely—it felt like a huge ball of light had exploded inside her. She jerked violently, her fingers digging into Peter’s arm to keep him from moving his hand. She was dimly aware that her groin felt even wetter and slicker than the evaporating dress had left it, and for a moment she panicked with the thought that she had peed on him.

“Oh… oh, Peter…” Elsa leaned against him, dimly aware of how warm he was, how solid he was, how his sweat sizzled against her chilling body. When she looked down, she saw something thick and brawny protruding through his towel. “I’ve never felt anything like that before… is that what Anna and Kristoff feel like all the time?”

“Well, I don’t know, he looks kinda like a piker to me…” Peter gently took his hands off Elsa’s body, but she still leaned against him. “Feel better?”

“Oh yes!” Elsa pressed her body against Peter, squeezing her breasts into his chest. Her eyes shut with enjoyment at the pressure. “I don’t know what to say… that felt as good for you?”

“It felt pretty good.”

Elsa’s eyes opened. “No… no, your penis, that has something to do with it, we didn’t do anything with your penis…”

She stripped away his towel, sure that was where he was hiding it, and saw his cock. It was a stiff cock, and as she fell to her knees, it was right by her face. Elsa took it in, staring at the engorged purple head, the fat shaft, the thick blue veins running down it to its hairy base.

“I saw Anna and Kristoff once… doing things…” Elsa said absently.

She curled her fingers around his cock and guided the engorged head to her lips. Her pink tongue darted out and licked it, Peter giving a lusty snort and shuddering with excitement.

“Not too cold?” Elsa cooed.

“Too cold?”

Elsa licked him again, and this time it was like an ice cube being drawn over his cockhead. Peter lunged to his tip toes, but Elsa was quick to replace the cold with her mouth, lathering his prick with hot saliva.

“Jesus,” Peter muttered, backing against the wall as his knees turned to rubber. He dug his fingers between the cobblestones, flushed and panting, as Elsa tongued his cock. “Oh yes, Elsa, that’s great…”

Thick globs of precum began to ooze from his tips, and Elsa salivated at the sight. It was as delicious as it had looked when Anna was sucking it from Kristoff, Elsa discovered as she rolled it around in her mouth, savoring it. She licked up his precum as fast as it appeared.

“Mmmm, mmmm,” she moaned.

“Suck it for me, honey,” Peter said hoarsely.

Elsa grinned and pressed a frozen kiss to his scrotum, Peter gasping as his balls tingled with the cold. It wasn’t enough to dampen his erection, but the shock brought him close to coming.

“That’s ‘your highness,’” Elsa told him primly.

She opened her red-glossed lips, startlingly vivid on her pale face, and slid his throbbing member into her mouth. Peter groaned with bliss. She was able to take in almost his whole cock, fisting and pumping the rest. She drew in her cheeks and started to suck; a natural.

“Christ, yes,” he gasped, staring down at her unbelievingly. She was genuinely hungry for cock.

She sucked loudly and greedily on his prick, drooling down her chin as she tasted his precum. Peter was tempted to cum in her mouth, but he also wanted her cunt and he couldn’t wait however long it would take for him to recover from this incredible blowjob. He had to fuck her now.

He enjoyed her loud, greedy sucking until he was dangerously close to coming, then said hoarsely “That’s enough, your highness. I need your cunt.”

Elsa’s mouth popped off his dick. “My cunt?” she asked quizzically, then looked down between her legs. “You mean this?” She looked back up at him, his face all the confirmation she needed. “It’s starting to ache again…”

“It won’t after this. I promise.”

She goosed him one last time with a lick of her icy tongue between his balls, then bounced up onto her feet. Her animated enthusiasm had him seeing a family resemblance between her and Anna, who were otherwise as different as night and day.

She kissed him and Peter let her, sucking the cold off her tongue, then he spun her around and pushed her against the wall, splaying her there from her head to her toes. Her ass protruded a surprising amount before he took hold of her hips and dragged her back, posing her so that she was bent over, braced against the wall.

“Ooh, I never saw Anna and Kristoff do it like this…” Elsa murmured. Peter guessed that she’d ‘seen’ them more than once.

He eased her thighs wider and wider apart, then slipped a hand between them and felt the searing flesh of her sex. There was something exotic about how she alternated between extreme cold and fleshy warmth. As he fondled the swollen folds her pussy, she moaned and ran wetly all over his hand. She was the horniest, most virginal woman he’d ever met, and that aroused him violently.

Virginal… “You know, this could hurt a bit,” Peter paused to say.

“No it won’t. I tried it once—used an icicle—this won’t be anything like that!” Elsa sounded quite sure.

He plugged his fat cockhead into her steamy opening, and Elsa whimpered with eagerness as she soaked his tip with her smoldering arousal. He watched her juices overflow her pussy and run down her thighs as he penetrated her about an inch. It reminded him of ice melting in the spring.

“Unnnhhh, yes, Peter, stick your cock in me!” she moaned, clawing the wall. “Give me every inch!”

Grinning fiendishly, Peter fucked slowly and deliciously into the gorgeous blonde’s slippery cunt. As he fucked into her she pounded the wall with her fist, sobbed with relief, and creamed like crazy. Her cunt was hot as a blast furnace around his shaft, tugging and squeezing it, her juices forced out of her by his advancing cock. He pushed till he hit bottom.

“You’ve got it all now, highness,” he growled.

“Yes, yes, mmmmmm!” Elsa moaned. “Fuck me, Peter, fuck the living shit out of me!”

Peter hammered himself into her, knowing she loved it hard and fast. Some other time he’d love to get into the refinements of lovemaking with her, but right now he had to satisfy the lust that was burning in both of them.

“Ooooh, yeah, give it to me! I love it!” Elsa wailed. She was enjoying every inch of the rock hard prick in her fiery hot sex, her face twisted into a lusty grimace. His thick cock was making an obscene sucking noise as it reamed out her cunt. “Yes, love it! I love to fuck!”

Not that she had to tell Peter that. He could see it for himself in her boiling hot cunt, her floods of sexual arousal. Her famished sex was clamping around his cock, sucking at it, soaking his manhood with her melting pleasure.

She was frantic to get off, and Peter soothed her ache even faster than she expected. Still pistoning himself into her greedily squeezing pussy, he reached around to grasp her clit between his fingers and knead it with the electric buzz of both fingers.

“Ohhhhhh, God, yesssss!” Elsa sobbed. “That’s gonna make me come so good, I’ll come so good!”

Elsa had learned today that she loved being fucked and she loved having her clit massaged. Now Peter was doing both things to her at once. She closed her eyes and soared to the brink of orgasm as she enjoyed the double sensations, inside her cunt and upon her clit. It was heaven for her sex-starved pussy.

“Do it to me, don’t stop, gonna come!” she cried.

Her cunt was growing into an inferno around his member and she was squirting hot cream all over his fingers. Peter knew she was right on the verge of coming, but already she was experienced enough to greedily hold off on the explosion, prolong the fuse burning down. She was hungry for sex and he loved that.

But there finally came a point when she couldn’t hold back her release any longer. Elsa stiffened and he felt her cunt clenching around his cock with exquisite tightness. There was a deluge of molten satisfaction around his shaft, and then her shapely young body went into hot convulsions.

“Ohhhh, fuck, you did it to me! You did it!” Elsa screamed.

Sweat had replaced the condensation of her melted dress, dripping off her in waves as Peter fucked the moaning, writhing queen through a long and violent orgasm. She sobbed with relief and soaked his cock with rush after rush of her ejaculation.

“Yes, coming so good!” she wept.

It was a hard, delicious climax in both her cunt and her clit, and it went on and on. Yet when she finished coming, Elsa was shocked to find Peter’s cock still hard as steel inside her.

“Peter, you didn’t get off!” she exclaimed.

“I didn’t want to yet,” he said. “I want to keep on fucking your hot little cunt.”

Elsa laughed. “It is hot, isn’t it? Nice and hot.” She wiggled her ass, enjoying the thrill she got from having him hardened inside her. “Make it burn.”

***

“Ooooooh, shit, love it!” Elsa groaned, as Peter plunged himself into her eager cunt for the third time in less than thirty minutes. He was fucking her doggy-style this time, and with each slamming thrust, his balls slapped loudly against her thighs.

“Every inch—aaaaagh!—hot and heavy!” Elsa gasped, wiggling her little ass with delight. She could feel his boiling cock battering her to the hilt, but she was so juicy and slippery that it was all delicious to her clasping pussy.

“Come now, now!” she begged, pumping herself fiercely on him. Peter squeezed her pert asscheeks harshly in his fingers and reared back his head as his load finally shot from his bursting prick.

“Sorry,” Peter gasped, his flushed face haplessly grinning. “Couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

“You don’t hear me complaining,” Elsa told him with a wide, glowing smile.

“Of course not. The cold doesn’t bother you.” Peter sat down, stretching out his cramping legs. His balls tingled with happiness at their long-anticipated release. “After the way you sucked on me, I’m a little worried you’ll just freeze me solid so you can have another round.”

“Aww, poor baby.” Elsa kissed him daintily on the cheeks. “How about we go warm up by the fire before things heat up again?”

“I don’t see a fireplace here…”

“There’s one in the library.” Elsa told him, conjuring up matching outfits of soft ice for both of them. “And if the fire isn’t hot enough, we can always huddle together for warmth…”

Peter laughed and followed her out into the castle. When this chick let go, she really let it go.