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