Ice cream

Slowing down near a girl who looked quite attractive and sexy

 — Hop in, I'll give you a ride, doll. — I open the window and start the conversation

 — Thanks, I'll walk. — She replied.

 — Legs like those aren't for walking. — I object to her.

 — What are they for then? — I joked in surprise.

 — I think they'd look great on my shoulders.

 — You want to carry me on your shoulders?

 — Of course, to the bed!

 — But I just got up…

 — Oh, sweetie, believe me, you shouldn't have gotten out of it.

She kept walking, and I slowly drove alongside her on the shoulder. Our conversation didn't scare her at all,

but aroused her so much that her thighs became wet almost down to her knees.

 — What am I supposed to do there?

 — Whatever you want. I'll fulfill all your desires.

 — All of them?

 — You can test it.

She finally gave me a quick glance.

 — Do you turn boys' heads?

 — It happens…

 — Boys. They don't know how to do anything. Horny, with premature ejaculation, they only think about their own pleasure.

 — And you, about mine?

 — Of course!

She abruptly stopped and turned to me, looking straight into my eyes.

 — Don't you think we're having an indecent conversation?

 — It's a good conversation, it just shouldn't be continued here.

 — Where then?

 — At least in the car.

 — I get in, and that's it — gone.

 — Do I look like a rapist?

 — Not really.

 — Exactly.

 — However, you have a strange way of meeting people.

 — Believe me, baby, I don't like meeting people on the road, but I couldn't just drive past. Put yourself in my place, would you drive past your destiny?

 — I'm not your destiny.

 — You can't know that, right? And how would you meet an amazingly beautiful girl? — I turned off the engine and got out of the car.

 — I'd invite her for ice cream at a cafe, for example, or to the movies, not to bed.

 — You're probably right, but I told the truth. Is that bad? If I had invited you to the movies, you'd still know what I want, but you'd think I'm lying to you and wouldn't trust me. This way, you don't trust me only because you don't know if I'll deceive you in the future. But that's just distrust of a stranger, albeit an honest, likable person who hasn't deceived you before. And this distrust will pass as soon as you get to know me better. You want that, otherwise you would have brushed me off long ago? Let's get acquainted, my name is Olegsha.

 — Olya.

 — Get in the car, Olenka, I'll take you.

 — Really?

 — You've already seen that I don't lie to you?

 — It seems so.

 — Then be brave.

And she quite boldly settled into my huge jeep, onto the pleasant leather seat in the cool, air-conditioned interior. And surprisingly, she felt at ease, as if at home, with a familiar, close person. A man with whom it's good and calm.

 — That's great. — he said contentedly. — Do you really want to go to the institute?

She didn't want to, and she didn't lie. I remained silent. My palm rested on her thigh, and she didn't close her knees.

 — You're completely wet. — I said quietly. — I don't want to rush things, but I think something needs to be done about this. Do you want me to stroke you and you'll come?

She remained silent, lowering her gaze.

 — Or kiss you and you'll come on my lips?

My hand was stroking her thigh. It felt good to her. Unbearably good. She closed her eyes and spread her knees. My fingers touched the fabric of her panties. I caressed her slowly. Too slowly, so she pushed her hips forward, pressing closer to my palm. Through the fabric of her panties, I unerringly found the bump of her clitoris. She came, unable to hold back a moan and squeezing my palm between her thighs.

 — You're a good girl. — I say and lightly kissed her on the lips. I smelled pleasantly of expensive cologne. — We'll drive around a bit now, and so you get used to me, I'll take my cock out of my pants. You can touch it and do whatever you want, and I'll drive, okay? She didn't look while I was unbuttoning my pants, but when we started moving, she glanced at it and couldn't take her eyes off the drops of clear fluid dripping from the tip.

 — Big, bigger than Anton's and much thicker, about 20 centimeters, smooth, straight, hard, with a shiny red head — she noted

For a few minutes she didn't move, then she reached out her hand and touched the head with her finger, taking off a large shiny drop that stretched after her finger in a thin, viscous thread. She immediately put the finger in her mouth. Simply wonderful. She took the next drop and smeared it on her lips. With her left palm, she grasped the shaft under the head and squeezed lightly. Another drop immediately flowed from the head. She covered it with her palm and rubbed it over the smooth, thin skin. She brought her palm to her face and smelled it. The smell was wonderful. Grasping the shaft again with her palm, she began to masturbate with the other hand, slipping her fingers under her panties.

 — Take them off, — I asked. — And she obediently pulled off the wet panties, throwing them on the back seat.

While I was driving, she masturbated for both of us and came about ten times, so wetly that she soaked the entire seat and wet her skirt, where a large wet spot spread.

 — Ol, — I called her. — I'm about to come. Get a condom from the glove compartment?

 — Why? — she was surprised.

 — I really want to, please.

She opened the compartment and found a pack of condoms.

 — Can you put it on? — She nodded.

While she caught her breath, coming to her senses, I stopped the car and put my cock away.

 — Want some ice cream? — I asked.

 — I do. — My throat was dry — She replied.

 — There's a good little cafe here.

She reached back for her panties, but I stopped her.

 — No need.

 — My skirt is very short, — she objected.

 — You should be proud of what's under it, not embarrassed that someone might see, and with me you don't have to worry about the indiscretion of others.

She silently nodded and boldly opened the door. We sat outside at a table standing somewhat apart, in a small green archway entwined with wild grapes. She settled deep inside, shielding herself from passersby with the round table. From the waiter who approached, we ordered a serving of ice cream and a glass of mineral water each. I can't say she felt confident: knees together, skirt pulled down over them as much as possible. I looked at her with a smile.

 — Feeling shy?

 — Of course.

 — Well, that's a shame. Want to play a game?

 — What kind?

 — You sit deeper in the chair, relax, spread your knees a little, and lift your skirt just a tiny bit.

While I was speaking, she followed my request.

 — Wonderful! Now, when the waiter brings the ice cream, smile at him, thank him, and without looking away, run your finger over your pussy, and then take it with your lips.

 — Wow! — And what's the game?

 — The game is called "flirting."

 — But isn't that improper?

 — Three people are playing: me, the observer, and I really like it. You — the seductress — get pleasure. And finally, our boy — will be simply delighted. Who's worse off? Who was offended?

 — Well, okay, — she quickly agrees. — I'll try!

The boy didn't keep us waiting. With a sweet smile, he set down the serving and froze, noticing her wet pussy. Then she improvised: slowly ran her finger between the delicate folds, spreading them so he could see the moist entrance to her vagina and the pink pearl of her clitoris, rolled it on the tip of her finger a few times, then inserted it into her vagina a couple of times. He stared at me with a frozen smile and slightly open mouth. And this finger, leaning forward, I deftly inserted into his lips.

The boy was stunned. Not knowing what to do, he couldn't make himself leave, though he felt Nikolai's gaze on his back. His cock instantly stiffened under the light fabric of his white pants. An awkward pause hung for a minute. I, not knowing how to proceed further, lowered my gaze. The boy-waiter didn't leave, smiling at me. Understanding her confusion, I came to the rescue, covering her hand with my palm.

 — Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. Do you want this boy? Take him.

Having received consent, she immediately reached out her hands, found the zipper on the guy's pants, unzipped it, pulled down the fabric of his underwear, releasing a nice, sturdy cock. Leaning forward, she pulled back the foreskin from the head and took it in her lips. She began to suck him, actively helping with her hands, and the guy quickly came right into her mouth. She didn't even think of letting it out. Swallowing every last drop, she thoroughly licked him clean.

I, to avoid awkwardness, immediately came to her aid.

 — That's it, guy, you're free. That was your tip. Don't come to our table again, send another boy. Understood?

 — Yes, thank you, enjoy your meal. — And the boy vanished.

 — Well, how was it? — I inquired.

She was smiling, unable to do anything about her happy face. I moved her bowl of ice cream towards me and poured my semen from the condom over it.

 — Will it taste better this way?

She happily scooped up a spoonful of the cold mass and put it in her mouth.

 — What are we going to do next? — She asked.

 — And what would you like, Olenka? Actually, don't answer, let me guess?

 — Try.

 — You want to hope that a fresh, cute boy will come to our table, and at that time you'll accidentally kneel on the seat and start picking up a fallen hairpin from the ground. Your skirt will lift a little, and he'll accidentally see your round little butt. And then whatever happens. How do you like that story?..