1 comments/ 21641 views/ 0 favorites Popsicle By: not_so_innocent_flirting The purple streaks running down my chest and tummy were deliciously cold and exciting I could smell the scent of grape in the air. Chet and I had teased for a couple of hours and it was beginning to get serious who could resist a grape Popsicle? The foreplay had been great and I was wet and sweaty and of course stimulated almost to the point of not being able to stop the little games. Leaving Chet hard and throbbing seemed to be another step in the game as I got up and headed to the shower. Secretly I was hoping he would not give in and stroke himself while I was gone but I knew how worked up he was. I called to him to join me in the shower and did not hear anything from him and I did start wondering what he was doing out there. "All squeaky clean and fresh." I remarked. Walking down the hall toward the front room where I left him I noticed the lights were out and I could see the flicker of a candle burning. My eyes adjusted and I looked around the room for Chet. He was standing in the corner of the room and he had spread a blanket down on the floor and I recognized that big grin on his face, the one that makes you wonder what he was up to. "Lay down sexy, lay on your stomach." I did as instructed and laid down on my stomach. Chet tugged at the towel wrapped around my body and I was completely naked. Chet straddled across my thighs and began rubbing my shoulders it was feeling really good when a sudden shock of cold was introduced to my body. My shoulders tensed up and I tried to turn back and see what he was doing but he would not let me. I felt the cold between my shoulder blades and across the back of my neck, and then I began to feel the trickles of wet running down my back and sides. The cold then began moving down the center of my back it was starting to feel good in an odd sort of way. I still could not figure out what it was at first I thought ice cube and when I asked if it was he said no. I felt the object start down the crease of my ass down between my legs and then back up it really was feeling pretty good about that time. Then between my thighs and across my ass cheeks and the wetness was running down the sides of my hips and legs. Chet bent over and began licking the small of my back and my hips that was when I began to notice the scent not quite sure what it was but I could smell a fruity scent. "What is that?" Chet kept licking the backside of my body and I was again very aroused. I heard some paper rustling and then the cold sensation on my flesh again this time down the back of my arm then the other. Chet moved off of my thighs and nudged my legs apart I could feel the cold on the inside of my leg down one side and the back up the other stopping just at the crease at the top of each leg. "Roll over baby." I rolled over and was on my back I still could not see what he had in his hand. "Close your eyes" My eyes were closed and the feeling of the cold across my nipple sent jolts through my body, then down the center of my chest across my stomach. Chet's hand was cupping the cool breast creating a contrast in temperature. "mmm that feels good." Chet's tongue on my stomach and his kisses were more sensitive feeling than normal. I felt the cold between my legs as the cold pressed along the folds of my pussy and I felt the moisture run down to my ass. "Bend your legs up baby, bend your knees." The sudden cold rush in my pussy caused me to jump and clench down on the object I slowly began to relax when the cold pressed deep inside of me then back out and brushed across my swollen clitoris. In and then out again. I felt the cold inside again and then just stay there. Chet's tongue felt hot as it licked along my folds then pressing inside. I felt his finger press inside pushing the cold higher. His lips and tongue continued licking and pressing inside over and over again. When I ran my hand across my breast and tummy I felt how sticky it was bringing my finger to my tongue to taste. It tasted good but I still did not know what it was. As many times as I have felt Chet between my thighs and bringing me great pleasure I don't believe I have ever felt his arousal and desire so strong. My fingers were wrapped in his hair by then and pulling him closer and as I would grind my pussy against his face. My orgasm was strong, and then another he just kept going. After the third time he moved up and across my body. Bringing his lips to mine. His tongue pressing deeply into my mouth as I eagerly sucked his tongue and tasted this taste. His cock was steaming hot when it moved inside of me. His strokes were long and deep coming faster and faster. My legs were wrapped around him pulling him tightly against me. The hot spray filled my pussy and Chet pushed deeper yet inside of me and that final orgasm I experienced was strong. We continued kissing and I was enjoying the feeling and the taste. When Chet lay beside me and I rolled over on my side feeling him snuggle up behind me. I saw a paper on the floor there beside me and I read it. "Grape Popsicle" Popsicle I lay awake in Kristophe's bed, trying and failing to quench the thirst for him that dampened my thighs and threatened to leave embarrassing evidence on the sheets for him to find in the morning. I could hear him chastely snoring in his living room; such a gentleman, to let a guest displace him from his room for a night. Or was it deliberate torture? I might have suffered some tosses and turns if I had taken the couch, but at least I wouldn't have to know his scent (part cinnamon, part musk, part soap) on the sheets. Or see, in the dim light, the desk at which he had sat so many nights typing furiously about what he wanted to do to me. It would be foolish to harbor any hope of doing those things in person, of course; he was far too young. And despite knowing my secret desires and having proved online, over and over, the will to fulfill them for me, he had been surprisingly relaxed and restrained the whole visit. A polite host. Barely so much as brushing against my knees when he moved past me to get more drinks. Hiding that lithe, taut body under two layers of clothes despite the warm weather. Of course this only served to torment me the more. Maybe he knew that, maybe he was subtly punishing me for my so-cautious rejection of his youth and ... ... well, I would say "innocence" but it doesn't apply here. So just youth. My reverie was suddenly interrupted with a hand over my mouth and another holding my wrists tight. My eyes flew open. How the hell had the door opened without my hearing it? "It's my apartment," Kristophe whispered into my neck as if he had heard my thoughts. I felt him insistently pressed against my leg through his boxers and my robe. "You don't think I know how to be quiet in it? The safeword is Popsicle." Relief flooded through me; but when he removed his hand, instead of uttering the magic word that would allow us both to go back to our normal lives as if nothing had happened, I found myself whispering, "Please don't hurt me." That wrenched a primal sound from him and he went even harder than I thought possible against my thigh. "You whore," he hissed. I gave him a couple heartbeats, then started struggling. I didn't scream, however; he had neighbors. He effortlessly stretched my arms above my head and produced a soft cord from somewhere to secure them with. It sent a shiver through me to realize he had planned this. Running his hand roughly down my body over my robe, he grasped my flailing ankles and tied them with two more cords, spread-eagle. He wasted no time crawling back up to suspend himself over me, grinning in dark triumph as I tested my bonds with all I had. My undulations nudged my robe looser while he patiently waited for me to spend my energy. His gaze settled on my chest where the robe was slowly slipping farther and farther apart. When I realized he was waiting for a flash of nipple, I stopped moving, embarrassed and breathing hard. He smiled deeper and kneeled up so he could use both hands to explore my body. His long fingers touched everything through the satin before he lost patience and wrenched it open. While the cool air hit my skin, puckering up my nipples, he let his hands slide up my torso and leaned forward on his elbows to take a breast in his mouth. I spasmed and writhed violently under him but he never lost contact, holding the whole areola in his mouth while flicking his tongue rapidly over the tip. When his teeth lightly closed on my nipple I finally let out a desperate sound. His breathing quickened at that and he started talking in that warm, sinister voice. If I hadn't seen his driver's license I wouldn't believe he was eighteen; he looked my age and sounded thirty. "You want it, don't you, you hot fucking bitch. I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you and there is nothing you can do about it. These tits are mine, this pussy is mine, and this mouth-" here he shoved two fingers inside it before I could snap my jaw shut- "is fucking mine." He untied my legs briefly, holding fast against my kicking, and retied them so that I was turned over on my hands and knees. When he moved in front of me and wrapped my long hair around his hand, I had a split second to realize what he wanted before my head was yanked back and his cock, freed from his boxers, was slapping my face. "Open your mouth, whore," he growled. Another time, another place, I would have wanted to explore the soft skin and hard flesh with my lips and tongue and teeth; bring him to the brink and watch his face as he fought against release, before letting him back down to start the cycle again. Not now. Now I welcomed his length slamming into the back of my throat, his grunting voice, the heat from his thighs as he straddled my bound arms, his hand holding my head firmly still. His stomach muscles flexed deliciously with every thrust. He radiated wild teenage lust but somehow stayed in control. By the time he finally withdrew, trailing a string of my saliva, my pussy was screaming to be pounded hard. "Don't you dare fuck me, asshole," I panted, signaling to him that I wanted just that. He responded by wrenching my head further back and leaning down to my ear. "I'll fuck you however I want, as many times as I want, and you'll like it. Fucking tease, sleeping in my apartment with nothing on but a robe. I always knew you were a little slut." As he spoke he maneuvered himself around and poised his cock at my slick, smooth entrance. "You're a sexy fucking whore and you knew what would happen if you showed up at my door," he continued as I heard a condom wrapper somewhere behind me. "Take my cock, bitch," he said breathlessly and at the same instant he slipped himself inside me to the hilt. That's when I started screaming. Kristophe rammed into me with all his considerable strength, balls slapping against my clit, hand wound in my hair, pulling on it to keep my shoulders from collapsing onto the bed. When his cock started hitting my cervix he seemed to catch himself. Still holding my hair, he leaned forward and snaked one slender arm around to lightly massage my clit, pumping slowly into me from behind. It was more than I could stand and soon I was loudly orgasming. He released my hair, grabbed my hips with both hands and started fucking me furiously again, finally letting go of his precious control, slapping my ass hard, calling me a cunt or a whore with every breath. I could barely hold myself up on my elbows as my climax subsided. My already-hard nipples dragged across the sheets. Kristophe let a hand wander toward my asshole, managing to slip a long thumb inside before his own release took over. I closed my eyes and almost came again, feeling his cock flex and jump inside me, hearing him moan out my name. I awoke with the sun peeking through the curtains. When I moved to stretch I realized I was still tied up on my stomach, face resting on a cool pillow. Kris lay with a lanky arm sprawled across my back but woke up when I stirred. He chuckled throatily. "As if I wasn't going to sleep in my own bed. The only problem was how to get YOU in it." "Untie me, you little shit," I mumbled, smiling a little. He grinned and kissed me on the forehead. "Not a chance," he said; and just as I realized I had not yet spoken the safeword, I felt him hard against my thigh again. Popsicle Girl Sarah leaned over the stainless steel counter at the ice cream stand. She was half in shadow, almost hidden under the large menu of the GALAXY FROZEN TREATS sign taped to the glass window. I bent my head down to see her, so she moved forward, the late summer sun catching and brightening her ginger colored hair. "It's a little early for ice cream," she said, smiling. She had a slight overbite but tiny and bright white teeth. Above her mouth was a little snub of a nose, blunt and wide and flaking with the remains of a sunburn. "Well, it is eighty five degrees already," I said. Sarah smiled again and cocked her head. I wasn't sure if she recognized me or not. Sarah had been a year behind me in high school, which would make her nineteen years old now. She was never one any of the boys paid attention to. Mostly, she had been known for being awarded the "Athlete Of The Year" distinction twice in volleyball. She wasn't a knockout, but she wasn't ugly either. She wasn't huge, but in school she had been considered quite large, the kind they always described as 'beefy'. If anyone talked about her at all, it was to call attention to her breasts. You know, the way high school boys do when they categorize the size and shape of the tits of the girls in their class. Hers were rated fairly high. I had never talked to Sarah in school. I had never admitted to myself, or to my friends, the constant desire I had felt for her. I don't think I had ever had a conversation with her. Yeah, I had masturbated to her plenty of times, sometimes even to the colorful yearbook picture I had of her in her volleyball uniform. I loved her size and strength. I loved her thick ginger hair. To me, she was like a big, firm pink marshmallow that I could squeeze forever. "Do you know me, Sarah?" I asked. She slid up on the counter and stuck her head out the window. Her thick arms were so smooth and hairless, though her hands were small and delicate. Her fingernails looked painfully chewed. But what I loved best was the magnificent full swell of her breasts, straining through the white polo shirt she wore. They were as luscious as I remembered. "Sure I remember you...you're Mike!" She laughed. I haven't seen you for a year...they told me you're in the army now." I was thrilled. Somebody had told her about me. That meant she had been asking, or had at least been interested enough to listen. I leaned down and put my arms next to hers. I brushed against them. The feeling of the cool steel and the warmth of her skin was electrifying. As I moved closer to her face, her mouth opened, the tip of her tongue flicking over the whiteness of her teeth. She had such a cute overbite. Her breath was warm and sweet. "Well Mike...and what kind of ice cream do you want?" I imagined she was breathing heavily. "What's your favorite?" I asked. "I try not to eat it. I try. As fat as I am..." "Well, youre not...you're not fat you know. You're just big and strong. Delicious.The way people like. Men at least." Sarah laughed and leaned back. I noticed she did weigh a little more than she had in high school. Her hips were a little wider, making her jeans stretch tight across her thighs. But to me, that was good...very good! "Well, what about that flavor?" she asked. "I don't feel like any ice cream," I told her. "Then why don't you ask me out? i only got a half day today, you know." She was brushing her hair back over her neck. It was thick, thick and lustrous and almost sparkling, half in sunshine, and half in flourescent light. So I did take her out. Rather, I took her home. She had said her mother was at work until 5. Sarah lived with her mother and brother deep in the suburbs, in a little cape cod on a peaceful street. When we got into her driveway, the temperature was already over ninety. Standing in the middle of hot asphalt, I had my first full look at her, and the sight made my throat close up fast. Her jeans were as tight as nylons, the denim material clinging to her thick thighs like a seamed blue condensation. The heat kept climbing, that August sun blasting down around us. I could feel matching heat coming off Sarah, though it was a gentler heat, radiating toward me with a hint of cheap perfume and laundry soap. "I'm gonna faint right here," Sarah said, looking red in the face. "I need to get into the AC." Her blushing cheeks put me over the edge. I grabbed her around the waist. She was luscious and thick, wide around her hips with a ridge of hard fat running over the top of her jeans. Sliding my arms up, toward her breasts, I felt a solid, graceful curve.I pulled her close and kissed her. She opened her mouth at the wrong instant, and her little white teeth clicked against mine. I backed her up against a parked Chevy, moving my hands down to rest on the outside of her hips and bent forward to try another kiss. She bobbed her head out of the way, laughing. The back of her arm brushed against the burning chrome. "Ouch! Okay jerkoff!" She shouted. She had a rank mouth on her, that girl. "Inside the house, before you fuck me right here where the neighbors can see!" Inside Sarah's house it was dark and cool, with an ancient room air conditioner noisily pumping out chilled air. The filter wasn't clean because everything smelled of cold, mildewed dust. I sat on her couch while she went into the kitchen and came out with a yellow box. They were popsicles, she explained. She had tried to swear off ice cream to lose weight, and to fight her temptation she waited to get home where she ate popsicles instead. I couldn't tell if it was working, but didn't care. We sat together on the couch while she unwrapped a red popsicle. ROCKET POPS, the box said. A little cartoon spaceman was pointing a raygun and screaming: CHERRY, BANANA, GRAPE! The popsicles were shaped like little rocket ships, long and slim with tail fins molded on the bottom. I took a grape popsicle and put my arm around Sarah's shoulder. She was sliding hers very slowly between her lips, letting her pink tongue curl around the frozen surface. A little stream of red juice slid out over her bottom lip, and she wiped it away, then tilted her head back and sucked the entire length of the popsicle into her mouth. When she had it in real deep, she withdrew it, very very slowly, letting the glistening column slide out over her tongue. Then she did it again, this time making delicious sucking sounds. More red juice dribbled out over her lip, but she stopped wiping it away. Then she turned towards me and closed her eyes. I moved closer and kissed her, our grape and cherry flavors mingling. Her lips were so cold, but they began to warm up as I pressed my mouth tightly to hers. Our tongues tangled , thick and chilly but then melting into each other. Below the iciness of her breath I could sense a spicy warmth coming from deep inside her. All the smells radiating from her made me dizzy...cherry flavor, cheap perfume, ice cream mix, some kind of coconut shampoo...and that mysterious musky smell women always give off when they're in heat. She bit off the last chunk of popsicle and swept her hair back, then dropped the little wooden stick onto the floor. "Get these off me, " she whispered, tugging at her jeans. I put my hands to her waist, but they were snugged so tight I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even get a grip on the rivet. So I put both my hands on her breasts, rubbing and squeezing them through layers of cotton and nylon. I let her work on unzipping her jeans. She seemed to be struggling, the tip of her pink tongue protruding between her teeth, a little sweat breaking out over her red-stained lips. Her bra was tight too, the elastic band seemed to cut right into her, stretching flat so that I couldn't get my hands under or over it, and I couldn't see how to unclasp it. I gave up and just rubbed my mouth along the coolness of her neck, letting my tongue taste the smooth area just under her brushed-back hair. She whimpered a little. With a long sigh of relief she yanked her jeans down over her hips. I knelt down to help her, tugging above her ankles while she pushed. Her thighs were so thick it was like yanking a canvas cover off an oak tree. Finally they lay crumpled on the floor, and I reached up to touch the inside of her thighs. They felt like warm silk. She had on pale blue satin panties. There was a dark stain in the middle of them, and it looked to be spreading. I hooked my fingers into the waistband. "You better be careful," Sarah warned. "I'm a virgin, jerkoff." How nice, I thought. What a nasty mouth she has. I stripped her panties off and slid them over her thighs, having a rather hard time of it. Finally she lay there, her pussy showing, her eyes sparkling, one hand stroking her tangled locks, the other rubbing the inside of her thigh. There was a tuft of caramel-colored hair just at the top of her mound, and very fine, silky hair trailing down the sides of her lips. I flung her panties away and held my face just inches from her warm little muff. The musky, riverbank scent made my heart skip a beat. My mouth began to water with desire. "Wait!" Sarah grabbed the top of my head. "I got a great idea." She spread the top of her pussy lips with her left hand, then touched the scarlet tip of her popsicle to her exposed clit. "Owww!" she yelled, and twitched like she had been hit by an electric shock. I jumped back and laughed. "What are you doing?" I asked "Isn't that cold?" "Shhhhh" Sarah said, then dapped the cherry stick against her clit again. Her thick thighs twitched a little, then she opened them wider. Now, she slid the whole popsicle down along her pussy, laying it down flat and sliding it along her slit, leaving little red beads in her tuft of hair. The slim ice stick glistened crimson in the folds of her light pink lips, and she stroked it slowly up and down, letting the wetness spring to the surface. In the cool room I could only hear the distant hum of the AC and the moist sucking sound of Sarah's increasingly sweet pussy. "Lick it boy, " she said, and I eased forward and lightly brushed the tip of my tongue to her clit. I could feel the breath rush out of her lungs. Her clit was cold and stiff, but soon melted to life under the heat of my tongue. Then I took my tongue away and sucked in air through my mouth and licked it again. The combination of cold/warm/cool drove Sarah into a frenzy and she let out a long sigh of pleasure. She began to suck again on her popsicle, even more frantically this time, poking it around her mouth and plunging it into her throat like an icy cock. I grabbed another one from the box and tore the paper wrapper with my teeth. In a hurry, I licked the frost from the surface and began to trace the outline of her pussy. I ran the popsicle up and down the folds of her pussy lips, lingering when I came to her clit. I held it there for a few seconds each time while she gasped with both pleasure and the shock of the cold, then I'd swirl my tongue over it. She was heaving back and forth on the couch. As I continued with the icy tease, she began to writhe in ecstasy. I tried fucking her with it---slipping the popsicle up inside her. Wet as it was, her pussy was tight, and it was hard going just to get it in an inch. She was thrusting her hips up and down, trying to work it up inside her, slurping her cherry cock in rythym at the same time. Finally I got the popsicle all the way in. She let out a small scream of shock and desire, closed her eyes, and ran her pink tongue over her lips. I drew it out slowly and sucked on it. As bad as Sarah was with the frenzy of sensations, I was worse. The taste of her alone was delicious, but the cool cherry flavor drove me mad. The musky smell, combined with the cool popsicle made me even dizzier. I could not stop--I kept licking, sucking, teasing with the ice stick---eventually I buried my face in her cool wet warmth, trying to take in everything I could of Sarah. "Fuck me," she said, and I hoisted myself onto the couch, getting right on top of Sarah's bulk and kissing her mouth. The collar of her polo shirt was stained with red droplets, and her lips were sticky and sweet. I could feel her groping fingers grabbing between my legs, getting a hold on the top of my throbbing cock, but those damned ragged nails cut right into me, and I yelped. She was so large it made for an awkward position with me on top, so she twisted herself around to lean against the couch armrest and I knelt behind her. This was like being in heaven, Sarah's massive ass bulging into my stomach, her little pussy poking out between her thighs like a soft pink fountain. I set my legs very far apart to get astride her thighs, and it was a full, comfortable, unbearably intense feeling. I poked my cock at her. There was some resistance going in, my cock trying to ease into her tight, hot little snatch, but then it seemed to break through and slide gently into an ecstasy of warmth and wetness. I leaned forward, finding a delicious handhold on her breasts and tried to push in as deep as I could. I was still in a fever of desire and wanted to possess as much of Sarah as I could. We got into a rythym, me and Sarah, her massive weight pushing the couch forward with each long stroke. I rested my head down between her shoulders, inhaling the clean laundry smell of her white shirt, then she took over, rocking her hips so she began backing into me. My cock drove in deeper, moving even faster with the backwards and forwards thrusts, making a sloppy wet squishing sound that soon filled the whole room. I glanced down and saw a crest of pink froth at the base of my cock, the result of the cherry syrup that had become churned up with Sarah's juices. In fact, Sarah was still slurping on the last bit of popsicle, and it was dribbling out the sides of her mouth and spilling onto the floor.This drove me into a frenzy, and I rested my weight against her and began to pump with increased fury. "Fuck me Mike!" Sarah was screaming now. "Fuck your fat whore!" Yes, I fucked her alright. I changed my angle of thrusts to get in even deeper, reveling in that slippery sweet wetness, hoping to spew so much cum inside of her she'd have triplets. Then I noticed something that almost stopped my heart. On the bookcase just inches from the side of the couch was a framed picture. It was a the original of the yearbook photo, that I had masturbated so many times to. There was Sarah, in her red and yellow numbered volleyball uniform. She was reaching up over the net for a ball, her thick, muscled legs displayed in all their magnificent beauty, her bright hair drawn up in a bouncing ponytail. Seeing that picture just then was too much. I seemed to explode inside her. I felt gouts of cum squeezing out between her tight lips, pouring onto the couch. Sarah sighed loudly. She dropped the wooden popsicle stick to the floor, where it lay in a puddle of red. I stayed, unmoving, my legs clamped beside her thick thighs, my stomach down hard on her ass, my hands clenched tightly on her breasts. "Well, Mike," Sarah said quietly, "how do you like fucking your fat girlfriend?" "Sarah," I whispered, "you're not fat. You're just delicious."