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21 January, 2013

Sarah backed against the bed, felt the cool of the cotton sheets against her bare legs, and fell backwards. Adam, his hand in hers, tumbled next to her and they shared a giggle before kissing, embracing, enjoying the softness of their shared nudity. In one hand, Sarah was still carrying the tub of ice cream they had opened in the lounge. She had removed the kid, peeled back the plastic film, and shortly after they shared the first spoonfuls, their chilled mouths had met in a smear of black-specks, vanilla essences swapping from tongue to tongue as their clothes were discarded, spread across the floor one by one.

She served another morsel now, offered it to him, and he licked it from the spoon, his eyes meeting hers as his mouth devoured the ice cream. But before he swallowed, he dipped his head and found her breast with his mouth. The chill caused her to gasp, goosebumps formed across her stomach and chest as he sucked her instantly erect nipple hungrily into his mouth. He switched his attentions to her left breast now, taking the bud delicately between his teeth and tugging lightly.

The sharp pull, the icy cold, the anticipation of further delights combined in an involuntary moan of pleasure and she grabbed at the sheet with her hand, balling the cotton in her fist. Her thighs came together, and she felt her own slickness on them as they writhed together.

“I’m still hungry,” he said, guiding her to lay flat, and he dipped the spoon into the tub again. Sarah forced her head back, closed her eyes, and as she felt the shock of the metal against her stomach she shrieked. Her hips leapt from the bed, but Adam pushed her down again, trailed a creamy white course past her navel, through the tiny patch of soft hair, and came to rest, nuzzling the spoon against her clit. The intense cold of the dessert battled with the heat of her arousal, and again she let out a cry. He raised his head to watch her as she tossed her head from side to side, her teeth nipping at her ice-cream-covered lip, and giggled as he circled her delicate folds with the spoon.

“Do you want me to lick that up?” he asked, but she was beyond words. A frantic nod of the head and a purr of desperate approval were all she could manage. His cold hands stroked at her moist thighs as his mouth, sticky and sweet and chilled, sucked the ice cream from her smooth skin. Her hands found his head, thrust him against her as she raised her hips to him, and his artful tongue dipped into her, brought the chill of the vanilla to the warmth inside her. He lapped at her, his tongue deftly pulsing in and out of her moist core, each thrust bringing new heights of pleasure.

“I want you in me,” she managed to gasp, lifting his head to allow his eyes to meet hers, and taking his solid length in his hand, he slid it effortlessly inside her. His hands were either side of her now, and he lifted himself above her as their hips thrust together, each penetration bringing them both closer to a climactic release. He lowered his head, sucked at her breasts once more, tasted the melted vanilla that remained around her nipples. Her hands lifted from the sheets, caressed his back, his stomach, before venturing lower, onto her own body. She found the trickle of ice cream on her stomach, coating a finger and bringing it to her mouth, sucking frantically.

He lifted his head again, his teeth clenched with the force of each thrust, and she saw he was close. She lay her hands on his hips, stayed his movement, and with the minimum of force, persuaded him onto his back. He lay still, his eyes expectant, and she sat astride him, his twitching, desperate cock begging to be back inside her. She looked in front of her, to the mirror on the bedside dressing table, and watched herself, watched the two of them, as she enveloped his shaft with her moist lips.

Their rhythm was as fast, as frantic as before, each push of his hips driving him deeper inside her, each clench of her muscles gripping him tighter, and together they felt the gathering of their release.

Seeing her eyes on the mirror, he thrust his head backward, upside down, and his eyes met hers in the glass. The rush of blood to his upturned head blackened his vision as his hips paused for one last time, and as her cries, her sparks of desire, reached a crescendo, they both crested into a deep, pulsating climax.

She tumbled onto his body in ecstatic relief, and he lifted his head, felt his vision and his focus return. They lay in each others arms, contented, safe, as they recovered, and kissed lightly. She rested her head on his chest, listened to his heart slowing.

“Next time,” she said, “let’s try it with strawberry.”



  1. That post was delicious. I could taste it and feel it all, from the heat to the cold of the spoon. It gave me shivers. (And made me want ice cream!) Well done, my Gentleman!

  2. The spoon on the clit was my favorite part. Very nice. 😉

  3. TheOthers1 permalink

    Yum. I want something, but not ice cream. hehe.

  4. Love the double-entendre title…*eg*

  5. Dang…half a gallon of ice cream later I am still hungry. Orange sherbet next time perhaps?

  6. Well, well, I’m really glad that summer is approaching – and ice cream too! 😉
    What a lovely erotic story – well done, dear Gentleman. Well done, indeed 🙂

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