Baskin-Robbins

Anal

I happened to be wandering through a mall during the time that the Polar Vortex was busy freezing everything in sight. Cold? I’ll say it was cold. I saw some bums huddled around this fire in an alley and, call me a liar if you want, but there were a couple of polar bears with them, trying to get warm.

Now the mall, naturally enough, was heated. No heat means no customers, and customers are what the mall feeds on, so heat in plenty was on supply. Strolling through the mall I noticed the Baskin-Robbins store and I had to laugh. Pity the poor fool trying to sell ice-cream on a day like today. As I strolled past I noticed that the only person in the place was the young woman behind the counter.

I wasn’t actually in the mall to buy anything, mainly I was there to stay warm and kill some time. At the same time I was looking around for a few items that I was thinking of replacing. A TV in particular. The set in my bedroom had given up the ghost so I had it in mind to replace it instead of trying to repair. The way repairs cost, buying new would probably be the cheaper option.

Being male, with a healthy libido, I naturally checked out the ladies as I wandered around. At one stage I found myself following this very pert little bottom that swished and swayed as its owner trotted along. Then she stopped at the Baskin-Robbins, unlocked the door and went in. There was one of those back in ten minutes signs on the door that she promptly took down, and she was heading behind the counter again. Carrying a couple of magazines, I noticed. Business was truly slack.

It’s the little things that add up until you finally get a bright idea. It doesn’t really matter whether the idea is good or bad. It’s your idea and that’s what counts. If you like it enough you act on it. My idea was created from the cold outside, the ice-cream not selling, the bored saleswoman with a very nice tush and a little ‘back in ten minutes’ sign. I wandered into the Baskin-Robbins shop.

The saleswoman looked startled to see a customer. She had a little identifier over her breast saying Dianne, Manager. Her breasts were just as nice as her bottom, despite being in that silly apron.

“Yes, sir, how can I help you,” she asked.

“I was thinking that I’d like to taste some ice-cream,” I said thoughtfully. “You don’t seem to be getting many customers today. What would your favourite flavour be?”

“You’re the first, actually,” Dianne said with a soft laugh. “Far too cold outside for most people. My personal favourite is the Papaya Pineapple.”

“That sounds fine to me,” I said. I’d extracted a fifty from my wallet and was casually playing with it, running it back and forth through my fingers.

“Certainly, sir. Would you like that in a cup or a cone?”

“Actually, I realise it may cost a little more, but I would really like to lick it of your breasts,” I said softly, still playing with the fifty.

“Ah, we’re an in shop only service. I don’t think what you’re asking is on the menu.”

Maybe it wasn’t, but her eyes were looking at that fifty and she was considering it, whether she realised it or not.

“I don’t mind eating in the shop,” I said. “You may want to put Yozgat Escort up your back in ten notice first though.”

“You’ve got a hell of a nerve. What the hell makes you think you can ask for something like that and expect to get it?”

“I’ve always thought that if you don’t ask, you don’t get. As for expecting to get my order, I’m more hoping than expecting. It’s just that the customer is always right and my order isn’t too unreasonable. I fully realise that there may be a little extra charge for that sort of service.”

Her eyes flicked down to the fifty again. I could see she wanted it.

“No-one’s ever asked for anything like that before,” she muttered.

“Maybe not, but I’ll bet they’ve definitely thought it,” I told her. “Would it be so terrible to have someone taste Dianne flavoured ice-cream?”

“Just a single scoop?”

I nodded, doing my best to keep my face straight. A smile out of place and I’d be outside the shop with a thick ear.

“You know you’ll get no change from that,” she muttered.

“Understandable. One must pay a little more for quality,” I murmured.

She stalked out from behind the counter and walked over to the door and threw the snib and turned her little sign around.

She came back behind the counter.

“Papaya Pineapple, you said?”

I nodded an affirmative.

She took out a scoop. A very small scoop, I noticed, but that was all right. This was one time when size didn’t matter.

With a small scoop of ice-cream Dianne turned and walked through a door in the wall behind the counter. A staff room or store room I supposed. I followed her through it, finding it to be a combination of staff and store room.

Standing there, Dianne looked as though she had no idea what to do next. I was only doing the gentlemanly thing to help her out. She was wearing the official shirt and apron, but a normal type skirt with leggings of some sort. The shirt was a button up one. I pulled the neck tie to her apron undone and then started undoing her buttons. Maybe my hands were a little too close to her breasts because she got all flustered.

“I can do,” she said firmly, pushing my hands away, and proceeded to do so. With the shirt undone she reached around behind herself and unhooked her bra. Blushing fiercely she pushed her shirt and bra off her shoulders, revealing a very nice pair of breasts.

“I should have order a mix of vanilla and strawberry,” I said, admiring her. “Your breasts are those colours and would have set the ice-cream off nicely. Um, I think you may want to take your shirt and bra right off. I’d hate to drip ice-cream on them.”

She looked just a little reluctant, but what I said made sense and she had already put her breasts on display, as it were. It’s always harder to stop something once it’s actually begun. She slipped her shirt and bra right off and put them to the side.

“Let’s sit you on the table,” I said, suiting action to words.

Putting my hands on her waist I lifted her easily, placing her on the table. Then I eased her down onto her back, blushing fiercely. Smiling a deliberately evil grin, I rubbed the scoop of ice-cream across Yozgat Escort Bayan her breasts, leaving an orangey-yellow smear. Dianne squealed with shock and her nipples hardened on the spot. The stuff was cold, after all.

Giving Dianne a wink I bent over her, tongue carefully wiping away the ice-cream from her nipples. Setting to work I tasted the sweetness, noting in passing that the ice-cream wasn’t bad either. I took my time, teasing her nipples and breasts thoroughly, making sure every last drop was sucked away.

Dianne was breathing hard, looking a little stunned. She also looked a little nervous when I picked up the scoop and smeared a little more ice-cream onto her breasts. The room was warm and the ice-cream was starting to dribble slightly, which explained the few drops that found their way onto her tummy. Being conscientious, after her breasts were licked clean a second time, I moved down to her tummy, cleaning it up.

“I think that’s enough,” Dianne told me in a whisper.

“But I still have some left,” I pointed out. “You don’t want it on your breasts?”

She shook her head and I shrugged.

“OK,” I said calmly, flipped up her dress and was tugging her leggings and panties down before she could stop me. I was lucky. She apparently liked a clean-shaven mons.

“Wait! What are you doing?” she gasped, but by then I was smearing ice-cream across her mons.

“Just using a different plate,” I said calmly, bending down to lightly lick across her mons.

“Ahh! This wasn’t part of the deal,” she protested.

“True, but the ice-cream is already there. I made the mess so it’s only polite for me to clean it up.”

I cleaned up her mons swiftly enough, but I’m a thorough sort of person. It was always possible some of the ice-cream had dripped down onto her lips or even into her slit. It was only fair that I checked it out.

Dianne was tossing her head from side to side, protesting softly, but I ignored that, tracing her lips with my tongue.

“Oh my god, no,” she wailed when my tongue dipped into the cleft between her thighs, seeking that last little bit of sweetness. My tongue poked and stroked inside her, making sure that the only moisture left inside her was her own natural oils. There did seem to be a few of those, she was quite wet.

Dianne was lying there quivering when I finished my ice-cream.

“Ice-cream’s gone,” I murmured. “Time for dessert.”

“You can’t,” she whispered, as I unzipped. “That wasn’t in the deal.”

“I know,” I said softly. “You can consider this my way of tipping you.”

By an odd chance, while I was cleaning up the ice-cream I had inadvertently repositioned Dianne so her knees were dangling off the table, and her thighs were parted, giving me easy access. To the ice-cream. I, of course, hadn’t intended anything else. But now, with her so nicely positioned and all, it would be a shame not to finish what I’d started.

Dianne had propped herself up on her elbows and was looking at me, watching me approach. She was shaking her head slightly, but not making the faintest attempt to stop me. My cock pressed lightly against her lips and she took Escort Yozgat a big breath and seemed to hold it.

I pushed forward and Dianne focussed on where I was joining with her, staring fascinated as I sank slowly into her. Her passage was hot and wet, relaxing to let me slide in, but seeming to close firmly over me as I went.

As soon as I was fully in her, Dianne let out her breath. Her eyes still hadn’t shifted from where I’d entered her. I rested my hands on the table on either side of her and started moving, just pulling back and pushing firmly in again. The only part of me that was actually touching Dianne was my erection, busy plying its trade.

It was a little humiliating really. Here I was, trying to pleasure the lady and succeeding, if the gasps and other happy little sound she was making were any indication, and all she could do was watch my cock sliding in and out. As a person, I wasn’t there. I wanted to say, hey, up here, look at me.

Not wanting to make an ass of myself I kept quiet and also kept my cock busy. I was moving faster now, a regular piston driving into its cylinder, banging home with ever increasing force. Because of her position on the table, all Dianne could really do was sit there and take it. She wasn’t exactly in the position of choice if she wanted a more active role. Not that she seemed to be objecting.

I banged happily along. I must admit it felt great. Ice-cream was fine for starters but I did like a more substantial dessert and I was getting one.

Eventually Dianne was starting to squirm about on the table, trying to get closer. I guessed that her climax was giving her warning that it would soon be on its way. So I pulled out.

There was a frantic squeal of protest which I ignored. I pulled Dianne down off the table and spun her around until she was facing it. I didn’t have to do or say anything more as she promptly bent over the table, legs spread and bum high. I drove savagely back into her, while she gave a scream of relief.

Now when I drilled into her, she pushed back hard. For a few minutes I held onto her hips, giving myself some leverage so I could really bang home. Then I decided that there were more interesting things to hold than hips, and I reached around her and took hold of her breasts. Holding them firmly, I continued, drilling hard and fast.

Dianne’s squeals were starting to get higher pitched, which I assumed indicated that she was reaching the end of her tether. That was fine by me, because my tether had snapped and I was coming, ready or not.

I accelerated for that final drive home, happily spreading my seed around. Dianne gave a jerk and then she seemed to both freeze and convulse at the same time, her passage closing tightly around me. (How do women do that? Do they get training?) She took everything I had and absolutely wrung out my cock until was as limp as a rag.

I didn’t have to disengage. My poor limp cock just fell out, leaving me exhausted and Dianne smirking. At least, she started smirking once she recovered enough to catch her breath and move. Then she briskly started dressing, suggesting that I might like to leave now. After all, other people might want some ice-cream and she had to attend the counter.

I staggered off into the mall, looking for a nice bench where I could rest and recuperate. I also decided that if the weather hadn’t improved by the next day I might just visit the mall again. Such interesting places.

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