Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Who Wants A Popsicle?

After a delicious dinner my boyfriend started washing dishes. I stealthily went into the freezer and grabbed a popsicle. Then I stood behind him and reached around so I was rubbing his crotch through his jeans.

I undid his belt and the top button and reached a hand in. "Mmmm," he murmured then turned around so he was facing me.

He dried his hands on his jeans and reached for my face. Then something happened.

I don't know why, but all I could focus on was how he had left the water running. Two seconds, three seconds, four seconds passed and he still didn't turn it off. My inner nag took over and I exclaimed, "You are the worst with leaving the water on!"

As soon as it came out of my mouth I regretted it. What is wrong with me?, I thought. he is washing the dishes (without being asked), he's trying to kiss me, and I feel the need to harp on the fact that he sometimes leaves the water running?

"Jesus, sorry, I'm a little distracted since you stuck your hand down my pants."

I apologized, but the moment was killed. Luckily, I had a popsicle to revive said moment.

Also very luckily, he is not the type to sulk and as soon as I reached for the popsicle and asked him if he was up for the challenge, he seemed to forget that I had gone all mean mommy on him.

I unwrapped the popsicle (actually it was a fudgesicle), knelt down, and popped it in my mouth. I admit I felt like a bit of a porn star mimicking oral sex on a frozen treat while my boyfriend watched.

As silly as it seems to wear a whipped cream bikini or pretend to pleasure a popsicle, if you go big, your guy will, well, get big too. The second you start giggling or acting self-conscious or asking him if you look lame or if you should stop, though, he'll start to wonder if what you're doing really is lame.

(Yes, this advice is as much for me as it is for all of you since I can be the queen of self-consciousness in bed. Just thought I'd share.)

Anyway, I didn't giggle and tried my best not to feel stupid. And it worked. He was loving watching me go to town on that popsicle and he did this sighing thing he always does when I know he's enjoying something visual.

After I was sure that my mouth was sufficiently cold, I put my lips around his tip. He flinched at first, but then said, "Ohhh the cold feels good" so I took more of him in my mouth. I felt him harden as I swirled my tongue around him and tightened my lips on his shaft.

After he was at "full mast", I pulled away and went back to the fudgesicle. Then I gave his balls some attention. Perhaps not the best technique. I could literally feel them retract into his body when my cold mouth touched them. I quickly shifted my focus back to his shaft. Crisis averted!

I handed the pop to him and wrapped a hand around the base of his penis. I then began moving it up and down in sync with my mouth so that my lips and the circle I had formed with my thumb and pointer finger never lost contact. This is a great way to simulate a deeper beej without having to worry about your gag reflex.

After, oh, about 10 strokes like this, his knees buckled a little (remember, he was still standing up) and he said, "You're gonna make me come." And when he did, I really thought he was going to collapse on top of me and we'd end up in the ER, him with a busted knee and me with a concussion and melted fudgesicle all over my face.

But he braced himself on the kitchen counter and managed to stay upright. As soon as he had regained muscle control, he lifted me up and pulled me into a bear hug and whispered, "I love you". I whipped my head around and smiled.

"What? Don't look so surprised," he said, laughing- "I can't imagine being without you."

"Well, without me you'd be a guy with his pants around his ankles, a dying boner, and a half-eaten fudgesicle in your hand.

So yeah, don't imagine being without me."

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