Busty Skater Nipple Play on Bench at Winter Indoor Skate Park

On a winter evening, the city darkens early. Outside, the temperature hovers near freezing in the harsh cold, and every breath rises as white frozen mist. Amid this, I headed to the indoor skate park as usual. This aging facility on the outskirts of town comes alive only during winter. Even indoors, the air-conditioned air feels chilly, and the rink's ice surface gleams white. My name is Ice—a skate enthusiast captivated by this world since childhood. Today I slipped in late in the evening for practice. The sound of skate blades carving the ice echoes across the quiet rink. Shh, shh. That rhythmic sound calms my heart.

The rink was not very crowded. Only a few regulars could be seen skating in the distance. I picked up speed from a gentle turn, savoring the sensation of cutting through the wind. Cold air brushed my cheeks while sweat beaded on my forehead. Winter skating is exceptional. The outdoor chill and the rink ice sharpen my body. At the edge of my vision, someone glides past. A woman in fitted black leggings, long black hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a helmet. Her skating flows with graceful elegance that naturally draws my gaze. Her large breasts are emphasized by the motion, visibly shifting softly beneath her tight top. As I watch in silence, she glances back. The moment our eyes meet, my heart beats a little faster.

She introduces herself as Eva. I later learn she is a regular at this park, a skater in her late twenties, slightly older than me. Her skating is professional level, and the way she turns while maintaining speed is artistic. I continue practicing, occasionally stealing glances at her. Evening light streams through the windows, bathing the rink in orange. The air is cold, carrying the scent of ice in my nostrils—the fresh aroma of shaved ice powder. Sweat trails down my neck, turning cool against the chilled air. She stops at the edge of the rink and passes near me. I hesitate, wondering whether to call out, but embarrassment keeps me silent. In the end, I keep skating alone. Once my body warms up, I step off the rink for a break. I remove my skates and sit on the bench. The bench sits against the wall beside the rink, made of cold metal. The chill seeps into my rear, making me shiver.

Just then, Eva steps off the rink as well. She seems to be taking a break too and sits on the bench next to mine. The distance is close. Her breathing is slightly heavy, her cheeks flushed. Sweat trails down her neck, dampening the collar of her top. Her large breasts rise and fall with each breath, pulling my gaze. Her scent drifts over—sweet-tart feminine aroma mixed with sweat and shampoo. “That was tiring. It’s cold here, but it feels nice, doesn’t it?” she suddenly says. Startled, I look up. “Ah, yeah. Winter skating is the best. Your skating looked pro-level.” I answer in a rush. She smiles, white teeth showing, lips curving softly. “Thanks. I’m Eva. And you?” “Ice. Nice to meet you.” We exchange a light handshake. Her hand is surprisingly warm, enveloping my chilled fingers. The soft touch makes my chest flutter.

The conversation flows naturally, moving from skating to how we spend winter. She lives alone and comes here between work shifts. I am much the same. The evening rink is quiet, the distant sound of regulars’ blades serving as background music. The air is cold, our white breaths mingling. “It’s chilly. Are you warming up?” she asks. I nod and wipe away sweat. Then she stands and sits right beside me, closing the distance to zero. Her thigh touches my leg, the fabric of her leggings sliding against me. “I almost fell earlier. Watch this,” she says jokingly. I laugh, but the next moment she pretends to lose balance on the bench and leans into me. I reflexively try to steady her, but our legs tangle and I end up falling back onto the bench myself. Her body covers mine. The soft weight of her breasts strikes my chest directly. The elasticity of her large breasts takes my breath away.

“Sorry, I fell,” she says with a laugh, trying to rise, but her movements are slow. My heart pounds. Her face is close. Her breath warms my cheek, damp and intimate. The scent of sweat grows stronger. “You okay?” I ask, my voice rising. Her eyes capture mine, a mischievous light in them. “Ice, your body feels warm. Sweaty from skating?” Her fingers trace my neck. The touch races like electricity. I lose my words. She whispers in my ear. “Me too. Even in the cold, I’m heating up.” At those words, my body reacts. Heat stirs below. The bench’s cold metal presses into my back, yet her body heat melts it away.

Things move quickly. Her hand lowers the zipper of my jacket. Cold air touches skin, raising goosebumps. “Eva, what are you…” I make no move to resist. Instead, anticipation makes my body tremble. She shifts her top, exposing the edge of her bra. Her large breasts sway as if about to spill out. Pale skin glows in the evening twilight. “It’s cold, so I’ll warm you up,” she says sweetly. She lifts my shirt, exposing my chest. The air is cold, my nipples hardening to points. Her gaze fixes there as she licks her lips. “Cute nipples,” she murmurs, blowing warm breath across them. The warm air stimulates chilled skin and I catch my breath. Her tongue slowly touches my nipple. The wet sensation brings a sweet numbness. The distant shh of blades on ice reaches me, yet my world narrows to her alone.

Her tongue moves gently at first, lightly circling the tip. I taste nothing, but I imagine her saliva coating my skin, mixing with the salty flavor of sweat—my own sweat. She savors it, running her tongue along the surface. “Mmm… delicious. Your sweat is sweet and tart, Ice,” she whispers, pressing her tongue harder. The sound of her sucking my nipple comes wetly, chu, chu. My body jerks in response, my hands sliding around her back. I feel the curve of her large breasts against my thigh through her leggings. The smooth fabric rubs my skin. Like winter speed on skates, her tongue moves fast, then slow, toying with my senses. From the cold atmosphere comes heated eroticism. Sweat trails from my forehead down my neck and onto her breasts. Her large breasts press against me, their soft weight amplifying the pleasure of the nipple licking.

The climax arrives on the bench. Her tongue rolls my nipple vigorously, teeth grazing lightly. The line between pain and pleasure makes me shudder. “Eva… ah,” my voice escapes. She narrows her eyes and rubs her large breasts against my chest. Her top slips, revealing her bra. Sweat glistens in her cleavage, the salty scent thickening. My hand naturally reaches for her breast, grasping the soft flesh. It yields elastically beneath my fingers. Her breathing grows ragged. “More… keep me warm.” Her tongue speeds up. My nipple swells and flushes red. Vision blurs; all I hear is her breathing and the distant sound of skates. Touch is the slickness of her tongue and the slide of her breasts. Scent is sweat and feminine musk. Taste arrives when she kisses me, the salty flavor of sweat on her lips. The kiss deepens, tongues intertwining. My body burns hot, the bench’s cold forgotten.

Finally she pulls away. The evening rink has grown darker, lights beginning to glow. We catch our breath and straighten our clothes. Her large breasts settle back into her top, the damp fabric clinging to her body. “The ice melted with winter heat,” she smiles. I nod, savoring the afterglow. My body feels flushed, the cold air now pleasant. The metal bench feels warm. She stands. “Let’s practice again, Ice,” she says, returning to the rink. I remain seated, tracing the lingering throb of my nipple with my fingers. The sensation of her tongue lingers, a sweet memory. The winter skate park is a place where heated encounters arise on cold ice. Outside, snow begins to fall, piling white against the window glass. My heart, too, felt warm, like melted ice.