#313229 - Taking the stick from her fingers, I made a slow pump with the popsicle, which was now slick with both its own juices and her desire. I couldn't decide in that moment which was better—cold, solid, melting in my mouth, coating my tongue with the tart taste of cherry, or hot and almost spongy, hardening between my lips and seeping salty-sweet precum. Be right back! Hem panted, rolling over and pushing to her feet, doing a little half-dance to the kitchen.
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