This story was inspired by Jasper Carrott. I’ll bet that this is the only story in the entire Lit index that contains those words. Thanks go to the Brummie comedian for giving me this idea.
Remember to vote and to send feedback before you leave. Remember, if you want to read more, then you have to be nice to me. My writing is fuelled by my ego. If you liked this story, then try reading The Training Ch03 or Autoerotica. Hope you enjoy.
Amy lay back in her bath and tried not to think about Justin. She was determined that she wasn’t going to get upset about him. She would have dumped him eventually anyway: he was selfish, narcissistic, ego-centric, self-obsessed, shallow and vain. In that order.
How could he dump her for being frigid? It wasn’t like they’d never had sex; it was just that she wasn’t a very highly sexed person. And Justin was way out there. He’d wanted to use handcuffs and vibrators and have phone sex with her. He’d even asked her to masturbate in front of him for God’s sake. Amy shuddered. Pervert. She was better off without him.
Tears still pricked at the corners of her eyes and she sunk further into the bubbles, trying to prevent them from spilling over. She didn’t need him; all she needed was a nice quiet bath and then into bed. Into bed alone. Into her cold bed all on her own. Tears brimmed, then started to leak quietly down her cheeks.
Amy grabbed for the towel and got out of the bath. This was going to require ice cream.
It was a fifteen minute walk to the shops and with every step Amy could feel the loneliness grow until it was almost overwhelming. The persistent drizzle trickled down the back of her neck and she shivered. It felt as though she’d been walking for hours without actually getting anywhere. Her hands were plunged deep in the coat she’d flung on and she noticed that her fingers were clenching at the bottom of the pockets, curling into fists around the material.
It was only as she finally reached the grey line of shops that masqueraded as a town centre that she realised her complete lack of a purse. Amy leant back against the nearest wall and shut her eyes, allowing a second to wallow in her despair. It wasn’t fair; she was having a shitty enough day as it was. She didn’t deserve to have to go home to fetch her purse.
She fumbled in her pockets, hoping against hope that there was enough loose change to make up a Carte D’or’s worth or at least a Tesco’s value. Thirty-two pence. Nowhere near enough. She stared at the rain-laden skies and debated briefly whether it was worth going back for her purse.
Amy rummaged through her coat again, praying that there was another coin that she’d missed. Thirty two pence wasn’t even enough for a Mars bar. She needed something, if only to give her the energy to face the walk home.
Then an idea hit her. What about Kev’s bargains? It wouldn’t be good quality ice cream, but right now she was willing to accept anything. She smiled as she walked towards Kev’s shop, wondering how the hell he managed to stay in business.
Kev had been a fixture in Walton for as long as Amy could remember and was something of a local running joke. To call him eccentric was one hell of an understatement. He was about 70 years old and ran an archaic sweets shop full of ancient jars of boiled sweeties and gobstoppers, located right in the middle of the high street. The property was probably worth a mint, but he showed no signs of shutting up shop and retiring.
Amy pushed open the door, enjoying the nostalgia of the tinkling bell. Kev’s shop had always been first stop for Amy’s pocket money when she was younger. Other shops had more variety and better chocolates, but Kev’s had something weird about it. It was so olde-worlde that it seemed almost an anachronism, even then and the aura it had made it completely different from everywhere else in the town. Ancient jars of sweets lined the shelves and the floor was coated in a thin layer of dust. Amy breathed in the musty air, all of her troubles temporarily forgotten as she looked around the store.
Kev didn’t even make an appearance behind the counter at the doorbell. He was so trusting, so sure that people would take what they wanted and leave the money on the desk. The theory appeared to work though; Amy could see a good bit of money lying unattended on the desk. It lay there, briefly tempting her to ‘borrow’ some to get decent ice cream, before she rejected the idea. Stealing from Kev would be like stealing pocket money from a five year old.
She wandered over to Kev’s bargain freezer, poking absent-mindedly at the jars on the shelves. Kev’s bargains would have been superb for students, if there had been a university anywhere near. They were dirt cheap sweets and ice creams imported from places like Kazakhstan and Bolivia. Probably a health hazard, but right now Amy was just responding to a primal need for ice cream.
Amy leant down into the waist high freezer and shuffled through the tubs of ice cream. The gaudy labels and foreign words glared out from every pack. She hefted one out of the freezer and examined the label. Made from 100% dog’s milk. Maybe not that one.
“There must be something decent in here somewhere,” she muttered to herself as she dug deeper and deeper into the pile, her head disappearing into the freezer as she sifted through the hoards of avocado flavoured ice-cream. Her hand closed around a promising looking container and she twisted it to examine the label.
There was a sudden crunch from the mechanism of the freezer which echoed loudly around Amy’s head. Startled by the unexpected noise, she jumped, rattling her head off the side of the freezer. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes and stood up sharply. The sudden movement caused the world to move far too quickly and she swore, trying to ignore the jackhammers in her temple.
She waited for the thudding vibrations in her head to quieten down and stop trying to crush her eyeballs and examined the ice cream she was clasping. The tub was cylindrical which boded well for nice ice cream, but the writing on the label was written in German, which didn’t. Produkt von Liechtenstein was written all over it and Amy was about to discard it until she noticed a magic word written on the side. Schokolade.
Amy sat down in the most comfortable chair she could find and examined her prize. When she’d first found it, the fact that it was chocolate flavoured had been the most important thing in the world. Now that she’d had time to look at it properly, it seemed a little weird. There was nothing she could really put her finger on, but something about it was odd.
She popped the lid off and prodded the contents. It had been nicely softened by the walk home and her fingertip left a satisfying imprint in the surface of the ice cream. Tentatively, she licked her finger. Looks like ice cream, tastes like ice cream; Amy was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.
She licked her finger again. Damn this ice cream tasted good. She grabbed a spoon and dug out a mouthful, allowing it to glide past her lips before sliding onto her tongue. Her tongue pressed against the top of her mouth, squeezing the lump of chocolate to force it onto her tastebuds.
A dual feeling of chill and warmth flooding down her spine in quick succession and Amy shivered as it spread out in waves across her body. Pure calorial pleasure. The feeling dissolved all too quickly and she dug out a larger mouthful. The ice cream melted on her tongue and Amy luxuriated in the taste.
The waves of cold and hot washed over her again, but stronger this time. Amy expected it to fade away like before, but instead it grew stronger, waxing to encompass her whole body. It grew as she let the ice cream slide down her throat, before centring in a pulsing warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Amy’s forehead furrowed as she regarded the tub. No ice cream had ever made her feel like this before. Experimentally she swallowed another mouthful and her eyes widened as another wave of sensation travelled up and down her spine. The pleasant warmth in her stomach increased and it felt as though heat was radiating from her skin. Amy felt her nipples throbbing as they hardened against her shirt. Was she getting horny from an ice cream?
The heat travelled lower, centring in her loins and Amy moaned as she felt her clit start to pulse. Moaned? Amy was starting to get worried now. What was in this ice cream?
She looked down to see another heaped spoonful at her lips. Amy didn’t remember digging that spoonful out of the tub. Every instinct in her lusted for the soft brown ice cream and Amy felt her arm moving of its own volition, placing in onto her tongue. The ice cold was an instant shock against her tongue, providing an intense counterpoint to the warmth that was threatening to overwhelm her body. Amy closed her eyes, her body thrilling with the exquisite moisture in her crotch. The pulsing of her clit was becoming harder to ignore now and Amy’s hips were rocking slightly, moving to the thrusts of an invisible lover.
Her hand dipped the spoon into the tub again and she opened her eyes to see it dig out another mouthful of ice cream. It looked so tempting, so overpowering. How could she resist this kind of feeling?
With an effort she dropped the spoon. The feelings were starting to fade and Amy felt a mixture of gratitude and disappointment. Tasting that ice cream had made her feel out of control, as though something was controlling her body and she had no power over what she did. Amy shuddered. Best thing to do was throw it all away. Still…
She eyed the tub, replays of the sensations she’d been feeling just a minute ago flashing through her mind. Just one more bite couldn’t hurt…
Amy grabbed the carton and ran to the kitchen, shoving it into the freezer and slamming the door before she changed her mind.
She slumped down in the chair again, thankful that she’d not taken another bite of that awful ice cream.
Twenty minutes later Amy was still sitting in the chair, trying to find something to occupy her mind. The television was filled with ice-cream adverts, every one of her books seemed to involve the heroine eating sundaes and comfort-eating required passing the freezer. What was wrong with her? Amy couldn’t seem to think of a single topic that didn’t involve chilled dairy products. Not even Justin was this pervasive in his invasion of her thoughts.
Amy smiled in triumph. Justin. The ultimate mind cleanser. She closed her eyes and pictured him from the annoying little quiff to the heels of his unnecessarily chunky boots. The chair creaked as she rocked further back in it.
He’d been so suave and charming – always able to get his own way. Amy thought back to the many times he’d come back from work horny and had talked her into putting out. A smile crept across her face as she remembered some of the times when he hadn’t even said a word to her. He would quietly shut the door behind him and creep up behind her. The first thing she would know of his presence was a strong arm wrapping around her, his hand sliding smoothly under her shirt and onto her stomach. His penis would press into her arse as his hand moved, gently caressing her skin as he whispered into her ear. His other arm would move to relieve her of her skirt, allowing it to fall in a crumpled heap in the floor as his fingertips brushed against the slick cotton of her panties.
Amy would stand there, her body frozen as his fingers grew bolder, creeping toward the waistband of her panties before sliding inside to brush against her labia. She shuddered, remembering how his fingers had always known just where to touch – caressing, tapping and stroking just as she needed it, as if he’d been able to read her mind. And when she was nearly crying out, he would slide himself into her.
A suffusion of pleasure flooded Amy’s mind as she thought of him, his penis entering her so slowly, tantalising her with his lingering movements while his fingers played with her, driving her to distraction, while his mouth pressed against her ear, whispering that he needed to hear her beg, she had to tell him exactly how much she needed him.
Amy whimpered, her entire body on the verge of orgasm as she thought about Justin. Without realising it, one hand had crept to her breast and was toying with it, squeezing it and rolling her palm over the silk of her blouse. The other was resting between her thighs and had started to rub herself through the crotch of her trousers. A strangled moan escaped from her mouth.
Suddenly she opened her eyes and noticed what she was doing. Amy leapt out of her chair with a squeal.
The sensations died away slowly and Amy felt them go with a little pang of regret. They felt good; so much better than the feelings of emptiness and loss that threatened to swamp her now. Amy looked down at her own body, trying to catch her breath. Maybe a little self-pleasuring wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Now that she had no boyfriend, it seemed wrong to deny herself some gratification.
Amy shook her head. Where were all of these thoughts coming from? She was a good Christian girl – why was she even considering masturbation? She took a deep breath. She had self-control; she could resist temptation.
Still the feelings burned inside her and she could almost feel her fingers inching towards the button of her trousers, yearning to slide them down her legs and enjoy her body. What was so bad about masturbation anyway?
Amy started to move, her body betraying her as she walked slowly into the kitchen and opened the freezer. A last voice of protest echoed in her mind, but it was being swamped by the possibility of tasting the ice cream again. She pulled open the freezer door, her body luxuriating in the blast of freezing air that greeted her, and grabbed the tub.
She dropped back onto the recliner with her trophy, tearing off the lid and digging out a heaped spoonful. The voice struck up again crying that this wasn’t right, this wasn’t nice, this was wrong, this was bad.
Amy wrapped her lips around the spoon and felt the ice cream melt against her lips, sliding into her mouth like liquid silk. Fuck nice. Tonight she was going to be bad.
A smile spread across her face at her thoughts. She never usually swore, but tonight it seemed fitting. “Fuck nice,” she said out loud. The timbre of her voice startled her. It sounded husky. It sounded sexy. The smile broadened and she licked her lips, tasting the ice cream.
The spoon was filled with ice cream again before she realised it and she sucked it eagerly between her lips, desperate to feel those sensations again. A chunk of ice cream slipped from the spoon and dropped into the neck of her blouse. The sudden shock of the cold on her skin spread as the chunk slid down between her breasts and onto her stomach. Amy moaned as she felt a wave of arousal follow the ice cream’s path down her torso.
She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, one button at a time, revealing more of her body to her eyes. Amy had never looked at her body as a sexual object before, but she was suddenly very aware of just how sexy she looked. Her finger traced up from her belly and over her chest, sliding over the path of the ice cream before she brought it to her mouth, licking every last bit of chocolate from her digit.
Another wave of arousal washed over her and Amy knew that she had to escape the remainder of her clothes. Her hand moved to the white lace of her bra, squeezing at her breast, cupping and then clutching. Every movement sent an electric shock through her nerves and Amy squeezed it again just to wallow in the rush of sensation. Fingers crept behind her and she unfastened the catch, tossing the bra away to allow her fingers easier access to her cleavage.
Cold air played across her nipples and Amy gasped as she felt her aureolae crinkle in the shock of the chill. The spoon was in her hand again and Amy watched as her hand moved, almost of its own volition, dragging over her breasts, leaving a trail of ice cream across her skin. The chill of the spoon caused her nipples to harden even further and Amy whimpered as she felt the rush of hot and cold flash down her spine, radiating out into her body. Her fingertips fumbled with the button of her trousers, desperate to get them off, to release more of her skin to the dual sensation of the icy spoon and her oh-so-warm fingers.
Now she was nearly naked, clad only in a pair of skimpy white panties. Amy paused, taking a second to luxuriate in the sensation of total and utter abandon. The leather of the recliner stuck to her skin as she shifted, feeling a delicious warmth build up between her legs. This was so unlike her, this wild feeling of recklessness. Amy’s lips curved as the smile spread across her face like cream across a saucer. If only Justin could see her now. Her fingers crept along her hips, tiptoeing down her body to hook under the waistband of her panties, tugging gently at them before sliding them down her legs.
Amy lay back in the recliner, thrilling in the feeling of complete nudity. She’d never been naked anywhere outside of her bathroom and bedroom before. She stretched, flexing like a cat as she enjoyed the feeling of leather against her bare skin.
Her hand reached for the spoon again, scooping more ice cream. Amy watched, allowing her body to move by its instincts, as she moved the spoon between her legs. The cold of the metal shocked her and she ran the back of it over her inner thighs, teasing herself by moving so close, but never quite touching her pussy.
The sensations flooded her body and Amy closed her eyes as the feelings swamped over her. Her pussy felt like it was throbbing, pulsing with desire. She needed to touch herself.
Suddenly she felt the ice cream touching her pussy and she yelped as the sudden cold metamorphosed into a deep heat building up inside of her. Sparks crackled and Amy moved her free hand to run up and down her pussy lips. Her fingers felt so hot compared to the ice cream and she stifled another yelp as her arousal grew again, welling up inside her like water pressing against a dam. It receded slightly onto to return greater than before, every wave pounding at her self-control as the dual sensations of hot and cold consumed her mind. Her back arched at every touch, her body screaming, begging for release.
The sensations built up inside her again, but instead of receding they continued to grow, overwhelming her. Amy moaned, a long drawn out expression of pleasure as her orgasm overwhelmed her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her consciousness as she collapsed into ecstasy.
Amy stood by the phone, her chest still heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her naked body glistened in the light, a mixture of sweat and ice cream coating her skin. She hadn’t bothered to dress and probably wouldn’t for the rest of the evening.
“Justin? It’s Amy. Remember how you said to call you if I wanted to talk? Well I think we should talk now. Come round my place. I’ve got something to show you.”
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