When I heard about @theotherlivvy’s #EuphOff challenge, my mind jumped at the opportunity to write filth and dress it up in the most terrible, pun-worthy way possible. What’s not to love?

As a result I created this – quite possibly the most awful, cringe-worthy thing I’ve ever written (at least, knowingly) and it’s about as sexy as a Carry On film.

The whole thing was conceived as part of a pulpy, tawdy adventure novel in which the MEN are gruff adventurers, the women are portrayed as fawning damsels and scientific fact is an inconvenience which gets in the way of a ripping yarn. It’s a pastiche, a parody, and it made me laugh a lot while writing it.


Cindi Thaw tottered into the lab, glancing around the dimly lit room for the expedition leader.

“Doctor Bergstein? Isaac? The generator… it’s dead.”

He turned from the frosty window to face her, ice-blue eyes and pure white beard still visible even in this fading light. Cindi tried not to blush under his gaze but felt her cheeks burn uncontrollably. How could she not? He was tall, strong and muscular, like a polar bear packed into thermal underwear.

“If the heater doesn’t come on soon,” she continued, “we might be dead too.”

Isaac glided across the room, barely making a sound despite his size, and gripped her firmly by the arm. She stared at him hesitantly, her own eyes shining with frozen fear at what might become of them.

“Cindi,” he grunted, “we are not going to freeze. I promise you. The team will be back in the morning with supplies and, until then, we will see this night through. Together.”

For the first time in weeks Cindi felt unable to resist his rugged charm and battered her long lashes. “Oh? And how do you propose to do that?” she teased.

Isaac flashed a smile, as dazzling as the snowy arctic slab on which they’d camped, and spoke just two words which cracked her inner resolve like a sheet of ice – “Body heat.”

At that she fell into his arms, letting her swollen igloos press against his chest. As their mouths met, he smiled at her fluctuating temperature – she was as cool and hot as baked alaska.

Pawing at her, Isaac tugged at Cindi’s woollen pom-poms while she stroked his toggles and teased his long-johns. Breath steaming, their bodies glistened like Mr Frostie’s wet dream and Cindi fell to her knees, licking his icicle as if it were melting on a hot day, then she opened her mouth and took him inside with more bob than the olympic sledding team.

His temperature rising, Isaac grunted, reached down, and thrust his fingers inside her ice-box. Within seconds Cindi was as slippery as a baby seal and thawing fast. Mushing her with steady strokes, he heard her whisper “Ike…” and pulled his fingers from her red run, dragging her onto all fours for some polar exploration. He teased her puckered snowflake and, growling like a snowplough, planted his pole inside her.

She moaned again, “Ike… Ike…” Repeating herself over and over as he ravished her tundra.

Within seconds he felt his thermometer spike. Mercury rising, he reached under to grab her aurora borealis while she stroked her wet piste in time with his thrusts, until suddenly, uncontrollably, he gave a growl and came as hard as an avalanche filling her with something wet and white but much, much warmer than snow.

Satisfied and flushed, Cindi collapsed, trembling beneath him like a frozen penguin and muttered in pleasure, “Ike…Ike… baby.”

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