Message-ID: <11809eli$9806020000@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/11809.txt>
From: "Erin Halfelven" <erotonomicon@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Every Lollipop Loves A Licking" by Erin Halfelven [mast,b&d,
    cheat,game]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Content-Type: text/plain
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <19980601185329.5416.qmail@hotmail.com>

If you reading this text will involve you or the author in a crime; stop 
now. If you are under age for legal access to erotoc literature, go 
away. If you are easily offended by explicit descriptions of sex acts, 
don't read this. Copyright 1998 by Erin Halfelven


======================================================================


"Every Lollipop Loves A Licking"

by Erin Halfelven


Jake and I had an arrangement. Whenever the pressure got to be too much 
for us we would call and leave a message on the other's answering 
machine or email. A code phrase, sort of, buried in an otherwise 
innocuous message about nieces or nephews or movie schedules. It wasn't 
that we had a list of such phrases, we made them up each time. A sort of 
a game where the one getting the message had to figure out what the 
phrase meant; always something sexual and usually a code giving time and 
place.

Sort of like making a date with the Riddler.

We go back a long time, Jake and I, back to high school when he played 
sports and I bounced around in short skirts yelling for him. Guess 
everybody thought we would eventually get married, including us. But in 
college we each found someone else; life is like that.

Still, at times we missed each other a lot and what we had when we were 
young and free.

It wasn't that we didn't love our mates. Dorothy and Bryan were good 
sports about this and I often got help from Dorothy when Jake left a 
really tough one or I wanted to send him one that would baffle and 
intrigue. Jake and I both carry beepers because of our jobs and the gag 
was to send a telephone number followed by "6969" near enough to the 
meeting time that our trysts would not be missed. Whoever had to wait 
for the beep and phone call had to pay a forfeit, like pay for dinner 
after the rendezvous. Or something.

The message I got that I remember best was on my email at the office one 
day. "Ruth. Got to run to a meeting, managers need their strokes, 
y'know.  Probably boring. <sigh> Every Lollipop Loves A Licking. Hope I 
can see you later, Jake."

Three o'clock I thought immediately; and if I have to explain that you 
would just never be able to play this game. But where? And what? I felt 
the excitement begin. I had been bored, showing condos to yuppie dincs 
had lost its appeal after two weeks of no sale. Quickly I checked my 
calendar, a short call to pass off my prospects to another broker and I 
had freed up the afternoon. I might miss a sale but I'd get the referral 
fee and I wasn't going to miss Jake!

I licked my lips and then checked my makeup. The clock said 10:15, I had 
time to run home and change. My nipples were already crinkling as I 
headed toward the BART station. Licking lollipops? Cunnilingus in a 
candy store? Too obvious, but it made me squirm. I grinned at the lady 
in the seat facing me who may have thought I had worms from her 
expression.

Alameda Station and a short bus ride to the apartment. Dorothy wasn't 
home, up at the gallery in Berkeley, no doubt. I stripped off the 
Realtor Chic and hopped into the shower. I lathered up my short blonde 
hair and rinsed quickly, then spent a little bit longer on the rest of 
me. 

"Every Lollipop Loves A Licking." What could it mean? I soaped my arms, 
my face, my neck. My breasts demanded that I linger on them; the nipples 
were already hard as the warm soapy water ran down them. I bent my head 
and held my breast up so I could lick my own lollipop. The soapy taste 
seemed pleasantly clean and I licked the other one so it wouldn't feel 
neglected. I shivered a little and moved my hand down to explore my 
pussy.

There's a lollipop down there, too, but I can't reach it to lick it 
myself; I know, I've tried. Jake had practically promised to lick me 
there with his little clue. I hummed a bit as I fingered myself with my 
left hand and rubbed my right across my face. I kissed the back of my 
hand as my fingers found the familiar little nubbin, half hidden. I 
nibbled my knuckles. I also avoided touching my clit directly, usually 
too intense for me. Instead I played with two fingers inside me, sort of 
like the feel of Jake inside me. Dorothy doesn't understand my need to 
feel penetrated sometimes but she humors me and I thought of retrieving 
one of the toys we use for such occasions. Just the thought turned the 
heat up, tightening the muscles in my back, my legs, inside me.

I stood, water pouring over my back and down my thighs, my right hand 
moving between lips and tongue and breasts while my left brought me to 
climax and again to moaning climax. I smiled while I rinsed myself with 
the shower hose, and rinsed again because that felt good, too; a quivery 
little afterquake of an orgasm.  I smiled, too, because I remembered the 
last time Jake had dined at Chez Ruth. "Umm," he'd said, "I see that 
Dorothy is using a new shade of lipstick."

My laughter had turned to gasps when he claimed to be checking for 
flavor. As if my Dot would ever wear lipstick let alone any candy 
flavors. She'd laughed, too, when I'd told her about it later. "He's 
such a dork," she'd said fondly. "That's what I like about him," I said 
and we both laughed.

"Every Lollipop Loves A Licking." Jake had a "lollipop" too and I'm sure 
he planned on me giving it a lick or seven. A big, thick, meaty lolly 
with a cream filling. I snickered while I dried and fluffed my hair.  I 
squirmed a bit, too. The last time Jake and I had played this little 
game his lolly had ended up in my ass. "Don't you get enough of that at 
home," I'd teased.

A spritz of scent. Front-closing, or rather, front-opening bra. Garter 
belt and patterned hose. Jake loved me to wear this kind of stuff; 
Dorothy couldn't care less. I debated wearing panties and decided to do 
so; favoring the pleasure of unwrapping the toy over the thrill of being 
naughty in public. I could wear a shorter skirt, too.

I picked a simple black dress with a self-belt, my black heels and a 
small bag with necessary supplies, including a tampon to sop up messy 
things for after. Another quick check of my makeup. Then a final change 
of bag to include the other sex toy I was bringing to this rendezvous. A 
black latex payback that the shop owner had assured me was the most 
popular size "down on Castro Street." Much bigger than the little toys 
Dorothy and I used infrequently.

It seemed enormous; fucking enormous, so to speak. I had to change to a 
bigger handbag to keep the damn thing from making obvious bulges. I 
tried to imagine ramming it into Jake's ass. I did imagine Jake doing my 
pussy with it then my ass. I squeezed my thighs together on that 
thought. I almost changed my mind and left it home. Then the image of  
Jake's ass and my ass triggered an association and I knew  where the 
rendezvous must be! 

Three blocks in heels is like a mile in flats. I could have worn sneaks 
and changed later but I didn't want to carry an even bigger handbag or 
have to stop at the office. Catch the bus to the BART, then ride under 
the Bay. I was going to have a little time to kill so I decided to have 
a light lunch. Avoiding the touristy places, I had salad and a broiled 
chicken breast and caught up on the news at a little bistro off Market 
Street. Still with plenty of time, I got to Ghirardelli Square, an old 
candy factory converted to a shopping and office mall,  just as the 
fifteen minute warning beep arrived. 

Scouting around, I located Jake exactly where I thought he'd be. 
Upstairs over the Leather Emporium, waiting at a phone booth next to a 
medical office: Doctors Paul French, Urology; Oscar Cervantes, OB-GYN, 
and Alfred Licking, Proctology.

I had won this round and I squealed with delight, "Every Lollipop Loves 
A. Licking!" I'm sure I must have attracted some attention from the 
shoppers. I didn't care. Probably no one but me would have gotten the 
clue but that was part of the charm of the game.

Jake turned toward me, smiling. He wore his black silk shirt and the 
leather pants that Bryan had bought him for Christmas, just downstairs 
in the Leather Emporium. Then I saw what he held in his hand. Something 
he may have bought downstairs, a new leather belt. "Licking" had more 
than one meaning, I remembered.

As I slipped my arm through his, I whispered, "You'd better have bought 
that belt for me, Lollipop." I smiled and opened my bag to show him the 
toy I'd brought.

He laughed and all my lollies tingled in anticipation. I shivered all 
over as he whispered back, "<Every> Lollipop Loves A Licking."


======================================================================


Copyright 1998 by Erin Halfelven. All rights reserved. No hard copies or 
commercial use without written permission from the author or her 
approved agent. Complete, unaltered electronic copies in free archives 
are permitted.  No illegal use of this text is allowed by this license.




-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>