It was an impulse. One of those whims that strike suddenly,
leaving them helpless. They had to stop. They had to have ice cream!
Double dip cones, hand made ice cream. Giggling like a couple
of kids, they slid into the only available booth, one in the back
corner of the store.
“You’re getting all messy,” he said, watching the ice cream
roll down the side of the cone onto her hand. “Maybe it’s too much for
you to handle.”
“Too much for me to handle?” She raised an eyebrow at that.
Twisting the cone in her hand, she looked it over carefully. “I think
I’ve handled bigger,” she said, a wicked note creeping into her voice.
Pressing her tongue flat against the ice cream, she licked straight up
the ice cream, her eyes half closed. Repeating the motion, she worked
her way around the cone, then captured the offending drip with a tip
of her tongue.
His eyes were glued to her every movement, and he swallowed
hard when she stopped and looked at him. “If I apologize now,” he
said, “will you stop?”
Her only answer was a soft smile. Rubbing the ice cream
against her lips, she captured the tip of the ice cream, sucking
momentarily before she began licking again. Up and down, around the
cone, shaping the ice cream, knowing he couldn’t look away.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a table of college
age boys across the room, watching her as closely as her man across
the table. It was hard to keep the smile off her face, knowing she had
this sudden audience.
“See? No more mess,” she said. Holding the cone in both hands,
she wrapped her lips around the tip of the ice cream, moving her head
down until her lips touched the cone. He gasped, his own cone all but
forgotten. When she raised her head, she left the tip of the ice cream
slightly bulbous. “Problem, love?” she asked.
“You do know that other people are watching, don’t you?”
She nodded, lowering her head down the ice cream shaft again.
Up and down, bobbing fast, making little moaning sounds in her throat.
Then she stopped looking into her mans eyes, she slowing raised her
beautiful lips up from the ice cream shaft bringing her innocent lips,
completely away from the now shaped cone. “Maybe we should think about
going,” she said after a moment. I small little trickle of ice cream
showed at the corner of her incredible mouth.
“Going?” He shifted on the seat. “I don’t think I can walk
yet.”
The collage boys at the table across the isle had gone per-
fectly quite, all squirming in their sets, staring this vision.
She laughed, pressing the ice cream flat with her tongue. They
could hear the groans from her audience clear across the room. “But
just think of all the fun we could have at home now. After all, we’re
all warmed up.”
“Well, I’m certainly warm.” He stood, dumping the rest of his
cone into the trash-can. “Are you coming?”
“Uhm, not yet,” she began, sliding out of the booth, “but I am
sure we both will be when we get home.”
“Augh!” He turned and headed for the door. Smirking, she fol-
lowed behind him. Pausing at the table where her audience sat, she
leaned over, winking. “Guess what he’s going to get when we get home?”
she asked. They were still sitting there with their mouths wide open
as we left.