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