[Get caught up:  Part 2.]

[Mike] @ShazamSF are we conversing anymore? Thanks for letting me know email went through, but I am befuddled


From: S M <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]
Sent: Saturday, June 27, 2009 10:52:48 PM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello

You are befuddled?  Well, I am pretty annoyed at your presumptuousness.  I like having sex so you assume I’d want a STRANGER to fly me to Florida and take me to a nudist resort, but not until after he’s fucked me in a bathroom after a crude display in a bar, and you get offended that I want to be compensated for my time?!

From: S M <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]
Sent: Saturday, June 27, 2009 10:55:48 PM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello
You’re not about hiring escorts?  I’m not about going to Florida with people I don’t know, who claim dyslexia causes them typing and grammar problems, and whom assume I’d want to fuck them and go to nudist resorts with them.

From: S M <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]
Sent: Saturday, June 27, 2009 10:56:23 PM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello
Unless, of course, it is worth my time.  Time being a commodity.

ShazamSF:  @[Mike] You’ve been befuddled for hours. Including through two email responses. Hmmm.


P5171870-EDITWow, screeching to a Halt! I feel like I was led into an ambush and set up to fail miserably. I am sorry I misread your lead. All I did was offer up a fantasy/real scenario that seem to be welcomed when asking me to be blunt or not. I usually do not get so elaborate, but I have been reading your blogs and your twitters for a while now and Suzanne, you really put it out there, and in stories you DO meet up and place ads for “strangers” to come over and you fantasize while walking with them or while walking the dog. I am sure, you are saying to yourself, lets watch how fast Mike will back peddle his self out of this now that I called him on it. I seem to be in a dammed if I do or a damned if I don’t situation. We are adults, both sexually assured of ourselves, and I am not going to play mind games with you that I won’t win because I do not know your “rules”. Did I think tomorrow I would be booking you on a trip here? NO! If you recall in email #1, I offered my phone number to a complete STRANGER, and to quote, “I’d be more than happy to call you and discuss and get to know each other to see if there is more to us than just a twitter friendship.” “I will leave you my number and look forward to hearing from you and your ideas and obtaining your number so I can call.”I feel from email one I have been open and honest. I will agree the Scenario I wrote about is just a fantasy/scenario I worked up for you to go along with what I have read from you in the past. I could quote many a twit or even a blog or two, but I know you’d recall what you write more than I can. To quote again “I certainly enjoy a WOMAN who is open and honest with her sexual awareness and her wants and needs. I hate fucking games back and forth and being coy and tentative so as not to accidentally offend.These few emails seem to be some sort of test, and hey I have been out of school for many years having graduating college and I don’t enjoy nor want totake any more. Tonight has sure been one for the annals of the phsycology of people.Not just you, but a long time friend as well. I’m pretty tired of trying to get a read onpeople. I felt after 26 years in business and hiring and firing and training and working with,I had some grasp on it, but I am about to just say fuck it, I won’t even put out an effort.I do have a something I refer to as a typing dyslexia of sorts because I have not heard another term for it. I get in a groove and can write and write and been told I should consider writing a novel. There are some words I type that I routinely will mix up the order of the letters or put a space in the middle of a word when of course I realize it is not correct. If I don’t bother to proof read over and over, they would be all over an email or a story. Why you would doubt me on this is beyond me, but I have tried to take my time since it really seems to be a big deal to you. I personally would not even let it be an issue, why add more crap to your life.I leave this ball in your court and do whatever you wish. I thought you would be a fascinating and never boring lady that I would enjoy spending time with, and I still do, but like I said, if this is what you enjoy, the back and forth crap, then go ahead and enjoy yourself, I will sit around and catch it from the sideline.Your 3 emails were not in my email box, prior to me leaving for a couple of hours and thus was the reason I asked you about it. Plus when you sent me the one email earlier showing me you did receive my phone email, you did not go into any discusiion of what you thought. Maybe I should have put my seatbelt on for it.

With interest (call me crazy and intrigued)

PS: in reading tonight’s diary,

12/17/89: A Diary Entry (Part 1)

I did catch a few typo’s but I still enjoyed the story.
I will “assume”, you are “transcribing” your actual diary, mispellings and all.
To Quote you “I would welcome anyone telling me I’ve fucked something up in my blog”

Maybe I’m just being sentimental but these three *peple

more as a *unti–the three of them

I hope Amy can’t *stope

Erica told me she was *got but I

And her body’s got a good *shame–

Flat, smooth, white, *hairlss

Lisa has big boobs but you’d be afraid of *mothering.

I hope this makes up for my mispelling of WOMAN.


[Mike] @ShazamSf Hi, hope U R having a great day. Its a perfect Florida day & being here @ the Nudist resort, felt so good on the body. take care


From: S M <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]
Sent: Saturday, June 28, 2009 6:37:48 PM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello
Yes, I have been known to fuck “strangers” and fantasize a lot.  However, I have never fantasized that a gentleman 13 years my senior fly me to Florida and take me to both a nudist resort and swingers club to which he carries membership cards.  And I certainly have never fantasized a radio station “superfan” (whatever that is) fuck me in a public restroom after I’ve worn clothes in which I would not be caught dead and flashed an entire bar my pussy. Finally, all my fantasies that begin with written communication do so with proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation (beyond the occasional typo).

I did want you to be blunt, but not as a trap, as I had no clue what you’d say.  I asked what you had in mind for my trip to Florida so I could understand what you expected of me.  You expected me to happily fuck you, and possibly others.  Fine, I would expect to be compensated for the time I’m not otherwise working.  I don’t think either of our expectations was unreasonable.

And thank you for the corrections!

Btw, I had more typos than the ones you pointed out.

[Continued from “What A Guy (Part 1).”]

From: S M <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]
Sent: Friday, June 26, 2009 12:21:34 AM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello

I would welcome anyone telling me I’ve fucked something up in my blog or my SF Sex and Relationships Examiner articles.

I’m not sure what you would expect from me if you fly me to Florida.  Please be as explicit (or not) as possible, and I will be the same with you.



Nice to hear back from you. Everyday I read your twits and enjoy your “out there” attitude about what is on your mind and what you crave. I take you for being honest to what you put out there and not just spouting things for effect and attention. It is one of the things I enjoy about your twitter. As far as what I expect, well that can be a two edge sword with some women (used correctly 😉 ). I think “You can handle the truth” so I will not pull punches. I want a friend to come visit and get her dreams and fantasies fulfilled. I have a number of connections to make even the most decadent fantasies come true.

I once had a marred lady friend from Canada come for a visit with hubbies permission as usual and we went to the swingers club I am a member of and with no plans, we ended up fulfilling her dream of being the center of a 13 man (safe sex) gang bang with me photographing it for her and I being #13 as she was DP’d. One friend arrived as we were preparing to leave the club for airport, and in the van, got to fist fuck her and cum all over her huge tits.  She went right to the airplane with dried cum on her and did not realize it until she reached Atlanta. She got home to tell her husband all about it, and of course he had seen the 300+ photos I took prior, and they had a night of sex to remember.

For your trip, I would ask when we talked about some of those lingering fantasies you have yet to live out. I for one have a few and would love to find an open minded sex partner to fulfill them with. Upon your arrival in Tampa or Orlando airport, I expect you to be dressed as slutty as you can be, with no panties/bra on and picking you up and asking if you had done as I requested on your flight here. M request would be to make a sexual advance to your row partner and regardless of man or woman, to engage in mutual masturbation and getting them off, but not allowing yourself to cum, because you did not have my permission to get off without me being present. You will allow them to fondle you under your skirt and play with your tits while you finger fuck a woman or jerk a guy off to completion.

Upon arrival, I will pick you up and take you to a local area bar/restaurant to get a meal and also take advantage of the sexy mini skirt you have on, and tell you to let it ride up and sit yourself to allow others to peak at your legs and gander on your now wet cunt. I will occasionally finger your dripping pussy and lick my fingers quite blatantly and offer my fingers to you as well. During dinner we will go to the restroom and go into a stall where I will have you blow me and then bend over the toilet and tell me to fuck your dripping wet pussy so hard as you have been dying for it all day. I make you grip my cock from between your open legs and put my cock at the entrance to your cunt, and tell me to fuck you hard and in one stroke I bury it balls deep.

We will continue to fuck, regardless of anyone who enters, making you bite your lip to keep from screaming out from my complete strokes into your dripping cockpit. You will cum quickly and as you begin to relish in the waves of pleasures, I pull out my hard cock and begin to explore your tight asshole. I tell you to spread your ass cheeks wide open and I enter that tight ass, and stroke deep and hard and I will
explode and leave my cum deposit deep in your asshole. We then return to our table and I make you keep your legs spread as I like seeing the pool of cum leaking out of your ass onto your chair.

We will then leave the restaurant, and on the drive to the hotel at the nudist resort, I make you lean over and lick off your cunt and ass juice from my cock the entire ride home. Leaning over, I pull up your mini skirt and leave your ass exposed to any vehicle that may pull up alongside of us on the expressway. When I notice someone looking in, I tell you to reach between your legs and spread your pussy open and finger your cunt for their enjoyment.

Suzanne,that will begin your adventure to see me here in Florida and that is only the first few hours. The trip I hope will be something to quench unfulfilled desires so when you return home, it keeps you yearning for how soon you can return to Florida and get nasty with me and others.

Here to your ass being on the next available plane from SF to Tampa/Orlando. My treat of course.



From: “S M” <shazamsf@sbcglobal.net>
To: [Mike]

Sent: 6/27/2009 2:54 AM
Subject: Re: Its nice to say hello

Should I make the trip I would need to be compensated for my time.


Suzanne, time compensation? Are you really broaching that area? Seriously? What happen to two people who get to know one another and begin a fulfilling friendship and enjoy the company of one another without there having a fucking $ figure added to it. I was offering you a very nice getaway with a similar person and offered to fly and take you to a nice resort and have a nice experience that who knows, could possibly lead to more of such adventures. Being blunt, like you enjoy, I am not about hiring escorts. There are amazing ones close by. I do however enjoy knowing them and other sexually aware women because they are not afraid to say they love sex and I do not have to be someone else around them. I have been a BF to an escort (I harbor no jealously) and I appreciate what they offer, especially when they make the choice to be all that they can be to make the other feel great.It is disapointing that from all of which you write on Twitter and in your rimjob blogs, this is the first I have heard of you also requiring compensation. I too could be a male gigolo and in fact with my previous GF, was in the opportunity to assist as one.I am a realist and a man who enjoys dating and treating someone to a nice time. I have even had a 2 year LD relationship with a woman in Texas, who still is a friend though we broke up. I could not be the man she wanted, and I was truthful to her and let her know. She is now married and had a child as well. That was not in my deck of cards at that time.

Your stance in this rendezvous, is a date breaker to me. I was willing to pay your expenses to come and while here, but additional time payment is not on the table. Sorry.

I hope you give some thought, and if this is a prerequisite to us enjoying one another company, that at least we will still tweet. I am not sure if you follow me or not, but I have a feeling you don’t and maybe you will add me and get to know me and enjoy me in a different realm that you currently have.

Pardon me if there are errors, as I am using my phone to type this email. I will reread and hope to catch any T9 predictive corrections.

PS: As always, I hope you appreciate my upfront and honest replies. I am not even sure what you thought of my previous “explicit” events. They were not fantasies but realistic ideas of just a part of what I enjoy in life and sex.


[Mike then continued to @ tweet to me regarding what I wanted to do when I was in Florida, asking what kind of alcohol I like, that he was enjoying himself at the nudist resort (though inexplicably he’d always capitalize the “n” in nudist.)]


ShazamSF: Just because I want to fuck doesn’t mean I want to fuck YOU.


@[Mike]:  @shazamsf, wow that was pretty well put out there 🙂 Ducking and hoping it was not for me 🙂


[Mike @ tweeted some more asking if I’d received his email.  So fucking annoying.]


[I emailed that I had received his email.  At the time I was not planning to respond at all.]


Stick around, because it really does keep getting better.  And there’s another photo coming.

I swear.  True story.

My face smelled like balls.

The other night Pedro, one of the guys from “International Day, and Night,” called to invite me to a party.  He kept saying that it was a private party.  I assumed he meant I wasn’t to bring a bunch of my rowdy friends since the party was taking place at a friend’s apartment, but I asked to make sure.

He told me there would only be six to eight people at the “party” but that he really wanted me to be there.  I’m no dummy so I told him that if his idea of a party was to have me fuck everyone there that I wasn’t going to go unless he was willing to name a price.  That was a joke?

OF COURSE he assured me that that was not the case.  It was just that the neighbors were very sensitive to noise so they didn’t want anything too loud or too late.  Pedro told me that we’d more likely than not start out there with a few drinks and then go out dancing.

It was a Friday night, I had nothing else to do, and I figured it was good for me to get out of my Mission comfort zone every once in a while, so I showered and got dolled up a bit.

I took a cab to the designated party pad.  The “party” consisted of Pedro, me, and one other guy, our host.  A much less cool chick would have been at least a tad perturbed.  As I’m extra cool, I was not.

The three of us sat in the living room, where there was a bottle of Jose Cuervo, a salt shaker, and a small platter of lime wedges.  We each had a shot.  I pointed out to our host that the limes should have been cut much thinner for our purposes of taking shots of cheap tequila.

Our host, Alberto, pointed out that he didn’t know to what size he was supposed to cut the limes since he wasn’t Mexican–tequila being a Mexican beverage.  Alberto told me he was from Lima.  That’s in Peru, folks.

We each had another tequila shot, and then I got a phone call from a friend with whom I had to talk.  I walked down the hall of the Edwardian [After doing some research I may or may not be naming this style of architecture correctly.] apartment, past at least one bedroom and to the kitchen.  It was a nice apartment that was clean and didn’t look like a stereotypical bachelor pad at all.  After ending my phone call I rejoined Pedro and Alberto in the living room.

The tequila, another shot of which I probably had, was definitely doing it’s job, because I really don’t know how the three of us ended up in the bedroom which was adjacent to the living room.  The bedroom was large–there was a queen bed, a love seat, at least a couple of pieces of dresser-like furniture, and plenty of room to walk around.

Only I didn’t notice such things at the time because the the three of us were quite busy.  Of course I had fucked Pedro before (on two separate occasions), so I knew I liked him.  And Alberto had soft, hairless skin, a tight body, and a hard cock–yum!  We were having a whole lot of fun.

It seemed as though the next time I looked up there was a third guy there.  Huh?  I was having so much fun that I was happy there was someone else to join us.  I don’t recall ever seeing this third guy, Esteban (whose name I didn’t learn until much later, of course), with his clothes on–I swear the first time I actually noticed him he was already naked with a hard cock (this is NOT a complaint).

We happily welcomed Esteban, who was Alberto’s roommate.  At the time I remember thinking, and possibly saying, that it was only fair that he join us considering it was his place in which we were having our “party.”

There was a lot of cock sucking–per usual, I wanted ALL  of them in my mouth.  We didn’t try putting more than one at a time in my mouth, I think only because none of us thought of it.

A cock went in my ass.  It felt really good, only I hadn’t properly prepared for such an eventuality and I had to use the facilities soon thereafter.  As this was an Edwardian (I think) abode, finding the bathroom wasn’t the easiest of activities for me in my intoxicated state.

This type of place is long and skinny.  All of the major rooms, including the living room, any bedrooms, and the kitchen, were to the right of the hallway that ran the length of the place.  The bathroom was to the left.

Only bathroom, singular, isn’t quite correct.  This kind of place, which is very common in San Francisco, had split bathrooms.  Well, a split bathroom.  The bathtub and sink were in one room off the hall, and the toilet was in another room off the hall.  At the time I was drunk and had just been pounded in my ass and my mouth (at least) so my sense of direction wasn’t at its optimum.

I recall looking in the bath/sink room at least a couple of times because I was sure I just hadn’t looked hard enough for the toilet.  And it seemed as though the other doors off the left side of the hall were so far away from that room as to not be plumbingly associated.  Finally, I found the toilet and took care of business.

Afterward, I went back to the bedroom where the four of us continued our various permutations of fun.  I recall being on my back on the bed with one cock in my pussy and one in my mouth when I requested that all of them come on me at once.  I made it clear that I wanted to lie there whilst they all shot their wads on my face and tits.

But that wasn’t to be.  Eventually Pedro left.  At the time, though, I didn’t notice until he’d been absent for some time.

Alberto and I really seemed to like fucking each other.  Whenever we were alone on the bed we once again launched into making out, and his cock going into my mouth, which eventually lead to him fucking my pussy, again.  While we fucked I gazed upon his pretty, sweet face.

Alberto was on his back while I mounted him.  I slid my pussy over his cock.  Without preamble I felt Esteban’s cock pushing into my ass.  I remember holding still so Esteban’s cock could work its way into my ass.  And then I had a cock in my pussy and another cock in my ass at the same time and it was fucking glorious.  It felt so good.

I’m not sure how long the three of us were able to keep it up, but I do know it felt FANTASTIC and I will do it again, hopefully soon.

The three of us fucked some more, in various ways, and eventually one of us came. It was Esteban–he came all over my face after I insisted I wanted it.  Alberto and I really seemed to not want to stop fucking, or I was just drunkenly and hornily assumptive.  He and I fucked some more.  That sweet face; that smooth skin.

Then I realized I needed to get back home to my animals.  While I dressed we chatted.  I learned that Esteban was 25, Alberto was 23, and that though they were both from Lima they had met in San Francisco at a private English-language school.  I got Esteban’s phone number and then they called a cab for me.

Esteban has since made it clear he wants to fuck me again.  I want to fuck him too, but also Alberto.

I swear.  True story.


It was so perfect; it was too perfect.  I can barely believe it actually happened.  And it happened to me.  Wow.  Oh.  My.  Fucking.  God.

It was better than I’d hoped because it wasn’t easy.  It wasn’t easy at all.  Though I hope I didn’t goad him into it, and I don’t think I did, despite everything.

I want to fuck him.  I want to make him cry.  And he’ll be so fucking beautiful when he does.

The whole time walking back from Dolores Park I wanted to get on my knees and have him fuck the shit out of my mouth.  Just good and hard and let himself go;  not worry about my feelings or whether it was feminist of him, to just fuck my face, hard.  He would feel so free.

And I want to suck his cock.  I want to suck and suck and lick and lick and suck and smell and nuzzle and taste and feel and bury my face and lick all over and rub my face everywhere.  I want to do it long enough so he goes from being tense because I’m doing it and not being able to relax because he thinks I won’t want him to come to just letting go and realizing there’s nothing he can do that would make me stop, that I’m going to keep my mouth all over his cock F-O-R-E-V-E-R.  And I will.  I want to taste every bit.  I want to take it in, to swallow it down.  He’ll smell like HIM.

At the bus stop was the most perfect thing ever.  EVER.  I was just stroking the backside of his thigh with my right hand.  I can still feel it.  Just slow and easy.  Earlier at the park I’d had my right hand under his shirt; I could feel his soft sweet skin.  That skin makes me want to cry.  I would brush my face all over it.  He’s younger than I thought.  He just turned 22.  Wow.  Oh, wow.  Fuck, I wish I didn’t know that because that makes me want him more.

He’s afraid.  He kept saying things about hurting others.  I’ve got so much more life; I’m so much more jaded that he can’t hurt me.  He’s so sweet and vulnerable I want to take care of him.  And that maternal thing is such a fucking turn-on.

So at the bus stop I was stroking the back of his leg.  And he had his left arm around my shoulders, and it was no big deal.  Until it was.  His hand went from my arm to my left breast.  And there was no denying it was on purpose.  My breathing changed.  It was fucking happening.

When he went out with me with Isis much earlier I had blurted out that I wanted to kiss him.  He said, “Please don’t.”  That, of course, felt like a rejection.  I was quiet all the way back to my place.  I told him not to worry, that I would be fine.  And we were fine.

Then I found the poem “Hello, my name is …” labels in his bag and I said we HAD to go out to put them up.  He and a friend had started a street art project where they wrote out an epic poem on “Hello, my name is …” labels and they put them up all over town.  Only he and the friend weren’t so friendly any longer.  He needed to finish the project and I wanted to help.  We left my place, putting up labels with poem bits along the way.  We fucked ’em up quite a bit; we didn’t necessarily put them in the correct order.

We bought some pear cider and the guys in the liquor store said something in Arabic (?) that sounded suggestive to both of us.  We had a great time being artist/vandals.  The whole time I gave him shit for rejecting me, but in a nice way I hope.

Then in the park we were lying (laying?) on the walkway and there was a nice breeze and I was touching that skin and he was talking about having trouble with the sex/emotion connection.  He just doesn’t know.  He doesn’t trust himself or me.  Mostly himself.

He touched my left breast at the bus stop.  And it felt so fucking good.  There’s something about knowing that a guy is clumsy and awkward that’s so fucking hot.  Because I know he has the desire.  He WANTS to be a dirty, dirty boy.  Just as he began touching my breast the 14 Mission bus showed up from the south.  I reminded him he had to catch that bus.

And he leaned down and kissed me.  We kissed.  We kissed.  It was just too fucking perfect.  We had to tear away from each other so he could catch the bus.  I walked home.  I was giddy the whole way.  I kept thinking about how wet I’d be when I got home.


I swear.  True story.

This is what I was thinking of when I masturbated the other day.  I was able to come despite suffering from a cold and severe back pain.


I want my calves bound to my thighs so my legs are wide open.  I want to be on the edge of a bed or a table so a man with a nice huge cock can stand up and pound my pussy and my ass at his whim.  Or it could be a woman with a big dildo strapped into her harness; I’ve not had enough experience with women and strap-ons for this to be something that pops into my head unbidden, but the image is certainly not unwelcome.

I want his cock to slide into my ass.  Slow and easy, working its way up to fast and hard.  Then he should slow down again, as he slips his fingers into my pussy.  He’ll be using lots of lube so everything will slither into me without effort.

His cock will be in my ass as he slips one, then two, then three fingers into my pussy.  He’ll be slowly pushing his rod into and out of my ass while at the same time his fingers reach up and massage that special spot inside my cunt.

Then, I want his whole hand inside me and his cock in my ass; to be completely and utterly full.  And I can’t do a thing because I’m tied up all pretty.

I swear.  True (fantasy) story.

[Continued from Under the Crimson Moon, “The Ice Cream Shop:  A Fantasy (pt 1) (via @ShazamSF).]

I stuffed the slip of paper into my pocket and helped the girl down off the counter. Her long, straight, brunette hair hung down, obscuring her face; it wasn’t long enough to hide her full, firm breasts, though. I led the anonymous girl over to an empty table, away from the three other patrons. She bent forward over the table and I sat down in the chair facing her bare ass.

I was still inexplicably erect, and it didn’t feel like it was going to subside any time soon, so I decided to make the most of the situation. I stood and opened my shorts. They fell immediately to the floor, leaving me to stand with my tented boxers in plain view of the other customers. Only the cute girl glanced over. Once she looked away, I pushed my boxers down, causing my growing erection to spring free.

Her legs were spread but I pushed them together, bringing her hips a little higher. Taking my dick in hand, I drew the head along her slit, coating it in her arousal and whatever saliva was left from the girl before me. I took a moment to stroke her pussy without penetrating her. She squirmed and writhed on the table every time I pushed against her clit, and each time the cute girl looked over. Once I was nice and hard, I spread her open as much as I could and popped the head into her clenching cunt.

Now, I’m not exactly what you’d call “well-hung,” but nor am I small. I’m pretty average. But poised at this girl’s opening, her small, tight body made my cock look huge. I could see her gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles as I pushed into her.

I wasn’t even halfway in before the clerk came over with a bucket of vanilla in one hand and a bottle of Hershey’s syrup in the other. The scoop rode in the pocket of his apron. He set the syrup and ice cream down on the table next to me and peeled the lid off the bucket. He dug out the first scoop and stepped to my table.

“Actually,” I said before he could put the scoop in the small of the girl’s back. “Could you put them here?” I drew a circle with my finger on the highest point of the girl’s ass, about two inches in front of where my penis penetrated her.

The girl had developed a light sheen of sweat, and when the scoop of frozen cream hit her hot skin, she flinched and almost jerked off my shaft. I held her hips tight as I leaned into her; she couldn’t go anywhere.

The ice cream began to melt immediately. One rivulet drew a line to the small of her back, while another traced a path between her ass cheeks and down onto the base of my shaft. I let a little more run down before filling her completely. As our bodies came together, the ice cream collected in the pool created by her ass and my trimmed pubes.

The second scoop joined the first and they managed to stay put. The clerk left the scooper in the craters left in the bucket, and retrieved the chocolate syrup.

“Hang on,” I said, just as he was about to pour the syrup on top of the ice cream. I drew my shaft out until the head was all that remained inside her and let the ice cream melt a bit more. I slid into her slowly again, more easily this time, and pushed some of the melted vanilla cream into her vagina. The girl writhed and bucked against my plunging cock, but I held her still. I throbbed deep inside her, flexing into the conflicting cold and hot.

Buried deep inside her, I picked up one of the ice cream scoops with my hand, fondled it like a bar of soap, and carefully put it back. With a tilt of my hips, I pulled out of the girl’s cunt and gripped my dick with the hand covered in ice cream.

“Right here,” I told the clerk, gesturing to the shaft in my hand. It felt so cold, like it was freezing my penis solid. It was almost painful; I couldn’t feel the syrup as he squeezed it onto my shaft.

“Leave it,” I groaned as I began to push my cold cock into the girl’s hot pussy. The conflicting sensations were overwhelming; I had to stop halfway in so I wouldn’t come too early.


The story continues.  Go to under the crimson moon for more.