ricky thomas: Tales of Mystery, Triumph, and Love

Outside blizzards rage, inside ricky thomas glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for ricky thomas,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “ricky thomas” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “ricky thomas” against the snow.