My apartment has giant windows that face south; in the winter, this is perfect, as they trap all the heat from the sunshine that pours in all day. However, in the summer, it means that my apartment is hot as balls. Luckily, the result of this is sweaty, slippery, literally hot sex.
The kind of sex where he’s working me from behind and sweat drips from his face onto the space between my shoulder blades and collects in a pool until it gets so big that it runs in a steady stream all the way down my spine and ass crack, then trickles into my cunt.
The kind of sex that smells like sex and body odor and musk because the heat amplifies the intermingling scents of our bodies. Where I eagerly inhale the heady scent of his sweat and body odor collected in his pubic hair while moving his cock to the back of my throat. Where I lick the sweat off of his glistening body because I love the way he tastes.
The kind of sex where we slide around each other, up each other, down each other (and sometimes fall off of each other, laughing hysterically).* Where we’re both flushed and have hair sticking to our foreheads and stop periodically to hand each other bottles of water.
The kind of sex where we fall asleep in wet sheets and don’t care because we’re so exhausted. Where he holds onto me tight and our skin is burning up but we can’t stop touching each other.
I have a loft bedroom; heat rises, and I’m grateful.
*I was once straddling someone on a bed in a hotel room in SE Asia, and I told him to stand up and fuck me against the wall — only we were both so slippery that when he did stand up, I just slid down his body like he was a firehouse pole. Luckily, we both found this hilarious and just continued to fuck on the bed.