You’re sitting in the park with her. Long winter is over, and you can hear the ice cream man cajoling nearby.
“You want some?” You ask and she nods. It was a stupid question anyway. What else you’re supposed to do on the first day of summer than go to the park and have some ice cream?

You shed your jacket and leave it with her, taking only your wallet as you walk to the man standing at the curb. You can feel her eyes on your back, burning scorching paths over muscles. You can almost feel her fingers curling to the nape of your neck.

You buy a cone of Italian Vanilla. Just one cone. Saunter back to her and sit down. She reaches for the cone, but you keep it out of her reach so that she has to climb on to your lap and straddle you to reach it.
“I thought we could share…” You whisper and take a lick from the cold concoction. She follows your example, letting her tongue sweep over the patch you just licked, coating her tongue with vanilla. You move the cone away and lean in, lick the soft layer from her lips before offering her some more.

There’s nothing separating you now. You take your time with the ice cream, letting her fill her mouth with it, sucking taste of it from her tongue, your world slowly narrowing until there’s just you and her, and slowly melting puddle of Italian Vanilla and softening cone of waffle at your feet because you found something far more better to hold than a cone of ice cream.

She’s moaning against your lips, devouring you, your tongues battling for supremacy while her hips start grinding against yours in a rhythm older than time. You pull her closer with one hand braced over her denim clad buttocks and caress her cheek with the other, blood pounding in your ears, flowing rapidly downwards. You can hear soft rustle of plastic wrapper and she pulls away from you. When you open your eyes she’s sitting there, staring at you with heated eyes, her lips wrapped around white plastic stick and you can smell cherry in the air, mingling with arousal.

“I thought I could share, too…” She whispers blushing and pulls the lolly from her mouth with a plop, brushing it against your lips. You let your tongue sweep over, just a quick lick before you suck in the orb and taste her, cherry and vanilla. You grab the candy with your teeth when she tries to pull it out, not yet sated. You track down every trace of her from the slippery surface before you’re ready to let go.

You spent the rest of the day wandering around with her, hitting your old haunts, and at the end of the day when you finally stumble in to your room, your head spinning from sugar and caffeine and even your lips numb and swollen you collapse on your bed alone, but completely ecstatic, already waiting for tomorrow.
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