I was under the cover.
All of me. The duvet, soft as was possible for a collapsible sofa bed, was lying heavily upon me. I knew what to do - I'd done it so many times before; it was a routine, almost. Hold up what I could with one hand; keep a steady rhythm going with my tongue. Circle her clit with the tip; feel its pulse. Run the flat all the way down the slit, then greedily lick all the way back up - small laps - savouring every moment.
All while my finger steadily moved inside her. Fingers. Two inside her pussy, her walls contracting, tight around them, holding them in position. I felt for her g-spot, my little finger - free from all such occupations - was busying itself with what it could. Stroking her perineum, pressing steadily against her anus. It would probably end up inside - it usually did. That brought her to orgasm.
It was a reward I was happy to work for.
The difference being that this was the height of summer, and I was getting hot. Well... hotter.
The fact that the window was open doesn't really make much of a difference - if anything, it was letting in more warm air. Under the oppressive summer heat, and in a small room, underneath a duvet (not to mention, of course, between a pair of legs...), made my head fuzzy and my body bead with sweat. Less aware of her moans of lust and more so that I was running out of air, I tried - briefly - to kick with my legs, open up a small hole to let some fresh air in.
"What are you doing?"
Get it together, ILB. You're here to do a job, so do it, superstar.
More heat. Much more heat. I was aware, then, of how hot she was, and how much having her lower half wrapped around my head couldn't be helping much with the dehydration demoisturisation dessication desperation situation. I was trying my hardest - believe me, trying - to bring her to orgasm, and what's worse, I could practically feel her teetering on the brink. If I stopped then, all my effort would have been largely pointless... but if I didn't, I was in serious danger of getting heatstroke.
It was her or me...
And I threw the covers off, taking in huge gasps of air as I fought for breath.
"What's wr...? You're red! You've turned red!"
And she left to get me some water.
Today, gentle readers, is a much hotter experience than that, which gives you an idea of exactly how uncomfortable this day has been. Fuck you, global warming.