Mash up Hemingway and Cosmopolitan magazine and what do you get? McSweeney's has the answer:
And you silently tipped the ice-cube down his shirt. The ice-cube was cold. His body was hot. The cold ice-cube felt good inside his shirt. He didn't feel hot. The sun began to beat down on the man, and the shirt, and the ice. The ice-cube began to melt. It was not a bad feeling. It was a tingly feeling.
There's more at the link — James Joyce (who recommends "little lace underthings most scrumsy, and little black dress allwhimsy, for the dinner, the stately sloshingdinner date") and Nabokov (who's into sexting, it turns out) included.
FAMOUS WRITERS' COSMO TIPS [McSweeney's Internet Tendency]