Contributor: Nathaniel Tower
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Krista seemed normal enough, but if I'd known how wild and sticky things would get, I might've stayed away.
We met my sophomore year of college. She was standing in the quad looking up at a gargoyle on the side of a building I'd never even noticed. At the time I didn't know what she was looking at, which made it easy to go and talk to her.
"What are you looking at?" I asked in my ever-so-smooth first line.
It took her a minute to realize I was talking to her. "Are you talking to me?" she said just as smoothly.
"Of course," I said in a way I thought wasn't rude.
Then she told me about the gargoyle and I asked her out. She accepted and our first date was that night. I told her right on the spot that in addition to being the prettiest girl on campus (she wasn't), she was also the most interesting (she was). It's not that she wasn't attractive. She just wasn't what most guys would call hot. More of a cute type, I suppose. But something about her sure floated my boat, if you know what I mean.
She was a lot of things I wasn't. She was athletic, with a nice hard body that had a few curves in the right places. She went to church every week. She volunteered at a soup kitchen. I didn't even know where a soup kitchen was and had little desire to learn.
She worked hard to keep up her grades. I made the Dean's List without showing up for class, supposedly no small feat for our fine institution. Funny thing about that is that no one from my hometown up near Chicago had ever even heard of Wash U or Washington University or WUSTL or Washington University in St. Louis. It was impossible to explain to people where I was going, and they all wondered why someone so smart wasn't going to a good school. As well-ranked as it is, it sure doesn't seem to be known by the general public.
Krista was a local. Born and bred in St. Louis all her life. Her parents lived in Clayton, just minutes away from campus. Luckily for me they didn't come around much. I'm sure they were nice people once you got to know them, but I wasn't interested in knowing anything but her body.
She voted conservative. I didn't vote, although I doubt I would've supported the same candidate.
All of this pretty much came out on our first date. We talked rampantly for hours, and then I tried to get her to come back to my place without trying too hard. I ended up just giving her a goodnight kiss on the cheek and promised I'd see her again.
It seemed after our first date, as much as we got along and as easy as it was to talk to each other, that the only thing we had in common was a love for ice cream. We must've talked about our favorite flavors and brands and ice cream shops for an hour. Actually, she was more into frozen custard, which was fine with me even though I was never really sure what the difference was. She raved about this place called Ted Drewes that was like some historic landmark of St. Louis. It was more famous than The Arch, she told me. And more people went there, so she said. I doubted it, but you can't really tell someone you just met that you don't believe them, so I said she would have to take me sometime so I could compare it to my nineteen years of frozen dairy experience. For some reason this was funny to her, and she promised we would go the next chance we got.
Within a week, Krista and I had set up our next date; we were headed for Ted Drewes on a Friday night. "It'll be packed," she warned me. "But it's sooo worth it." And she was right, in a way.
I picked up Krista around seven and we drove over to the Chippewa location. Even though it was a little further away, she said it was worth the extra gas for the experience. I just went along, hoping it would lead to something else. She wore a little sundress with the thinnest straps. I kept picturing myself sliding my fingers underneath those straps and watching the dress slide off her body. It's not like I was a pervert or some sex fiend or anything. Truth is, I'd never even had intercourse before. I got a couple hand jobs in high school, and a girl and I went down on each other as freshmen in college, but that was about it. Somehow I knew that Krista would be the girl to get me out of my slump or whatever it was. I'm not really sure why since I was certain she had little to no experience. I just had a feeling.
The line was twice what I expected. Surely she had been exaggerating when she told me about how crazy people went for this frozen custard, but when we drove past the custard stand, there were people lined out into the street.
"This stuff must be amazing," I said.
"Oh, it is," she said with an odd wink.
We parked, waited in line, had small talk. It wasn't the most exciting date, but I enjoyed being with her enough. When we finally got to the front, she took charge and ordered two large vanilla concretes.
"Just vanilla?" I asked.
"Yup. You've gotta taste how good this custard is before you can load it up with junk."
She even paid for it, but I didn't feel emasculated or anything. I was an open-minded kind of guy, and I wasn't about to complain about getting free custard.
When our yellow cups arrived at the window, the employee turned them upside down to show us just how cold they were, and then we headed back to the car. With all those people there, you'd expect there'd be some place to eat the stuff, but there really wasn't. You just sat on the curb or on your car and plunged the spoon into the cup and into your mouth.
Back at my car I stopped and tried to sit on the trunk, but Krista said, "No, let's not eat it here. I've got a better idea." Again, there was an odd wink, and I was pretty confident I was going to get to see that dress slip off her body.
We drove for about five minutes to some park. I can't remember the name of it, and I'm not sure she ever even told me. She just pointed to where we were going and I blindly led with high expectations. After parking, she told me to take off my pants. This was a bit forward coming from a girl I'd never even kissed on the mouth, but for some reason I didn't mind. She seemed wholesome enough. I mean, vanilla custard. You can't get more wholesome than that.
Before I even had my pants all the way down, she grabbed my dick and gave it a few good tugs to make sure it was nice and hard. "This might be a little cold at first," she said, and then she dipped my balls in the custard. I thought they were going to retreat up into my kidneys. My boner almost went away, but I was so horny that I don't think anything could've shut me off completely.
With my balls fully submerged in the frozen custard, Krista began administering the finest blow job the world has ever known. At least it was better than the one I'd gotten before. It seemed to last forever. Every time I thought I was going to come, a wave of cold would block up the sperm. I couldn't see it, but I was sure my dick kept getting harder and bigger and purpler.
After what must've been ten minutes of intense sucking, Krista stopped and looked at me and asked if I was ready. I wasn't really sure what she meant, but I really hoped she wasn't asking if I wanted to leave.
"I'm ready for anything," I told her rather hopefully.
Krista pulled my balls out of the cup and leaned back into my crotch. She slowly slid her tongue out of her mouth and licked every bit of custard off my sack. As weird as it sounds, it felt a hundred times better than when she'd been sucking my dick. I moaned and squeezed the steering wheel hard and then let it fly. My semen squirted right onto her forehead and then oozed down the bridge of her nose and right onto her tongue. It looked like custard. She pulled her tongue in, took a big gulp, and then just about passed out on the seat. I'd never seen a woman look so satisfied. I wanted to feel proud of myself, but I hadn't done a thing. I hadn't even eaten any of the best custard in the world. Looking at the cup of melting vanilla, I knew I couldn't eat it then. "Maybe some other time," I told her as we buckled our seatbelts and drove off. She tossed the cups out the window into a pickup truck bed as we pulled back onto the main street. We drove in silence back to Wash U.
"So, what did you think about Ted Drewes?" she asked when we arrived back at her dorm.
"That was without a doubt the best frozen dairy dessert experience of my life," I told her with a laugh. She smiled and said, "Good. Best of mine as well." She gave me a deep kiss on the lips, which I enjoyed at first until her tongue slid into my mouth and I thought of my semen dripping down her face.
I wanted to ask if she'd done that before, but I was too sure the answer was yes. Besides, I didn't know her well enough to go there, and it didn't matter to me anyway since I was more looking for a hook up rather than a real relationship. Still, as I watched her get out of the car and sashay away in her little sundress, I couldn't help but feel jealous about every ice cream blow job she'd ever given. Just how many were there, I wondered. I knew I couldn't have been the first. She was just too good at it, and she knew exactly what she was doing the whole time.
She called me the next day and asked what I wanted to do that night. As much as I wanted a repeat of the night before, I didn't want to seem like I was just in it for the sex, so I told her we should see a movie. Besides, I wanted to get to know her a little and see if she was at least clean before I got too deep into this.
We saw some ridiculous romantic comedy at the nearby Esquire. Even though it was only a mile or so away from the campus, it was the first time I'd been there. It felt a lot dingier than the theatres I went to back home, but I enjoyed spending the time with Krista. Because it was so close, we walked, which was a nice way of getting a feel for what kind of person she was. Unfortunately for me, it was hard to pay attention to anything she said. I just kept thinking about what had happened the night before and if it would happen again or if there was something else she had planned for the second date. Hopefully she didn't have any sex tricks with the hot butter from the popcorn. Frozen balls I could do, but I wanted to stay away from melting scrotums.
We held hands the whole walk back, and she kept pressing up against me and talking about how much she enjoyed being with me.
"Listen, about last night," she said when we were about a block away from campus, "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I've never done that before. Honest. I just wanted to eat the custard, but being with you last night just made me horny and I wanted to try something crazy."
I looked at her and smiled. "I'm horny when I'm with you," I said, hoping it was the right thing to say. Apparently it was. "Let's go to Ted Drewes," she said when we got back to my dorm. "Okay," I said all too eagerly, but she just laughed and told me how cute I was. Then we ran off to my car, and I do mean ran. The whole drive I stroked her smooth leg and it felt like my dick was going to burst through my cargo shorts. She just kept giggling and saying that she was going to get chocolate tonight.
The line was brutal, and I made her stand in front of me, her ass pressed against me, to hide my boner. I don't know how I managed to stay hard that long, but the thing just wouldn't go down. When we finally ordered our cup of chocolate, I wanted her to rip off my pants and do it right there. Of course we couldn't since it was so damn crowded, so we hurried to the car and drove back to our park. She unzipped my pants on the way there and had my balls dipped in the cup before the car was even in park. This time she sucked for a full fifteen minutes before going for my balls. Instead of a slow lick though, she dipped my balls into her mouth like a cherry and scraped the custard off with her teeth. It was nowhere near as painful as it sounds. I clutched the steering wheel hard and blew my load against the dashboard. She quickly pulled my balls out of her mouth when she heard my semen smack against the dash. Putting the cup of melting custard underneath, she let the dripping semen slide in and mix with the chocolate. Than she chugged it down in one gulp. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Mr. Drewes seems to be missing a key ingredient in his custard," she told me before collapsing back into her seat.
"Wanna go get another cup so I can do you?" I asked, but she shook her head and smiled. "Just take me home," she said with what must've been her last ounce of strength.
Again the car ride was silent, and again she gave me a deep kiss when we returned to campus. I wanted to ask her back to my place, but it didn't seem quite right. Maybe I'd have the courage after the next date.
We went to Ted Drewes every night that week. The next week I just bought a gallon of ice cream from Bear Mart and we did our routine in my dorm room. Somehow she found a different way to do it every night, and somehow it felt better every night. The girl sure knew how to mix things up. I tried to reciprocate every time, but she would never let me. I never even got to see her boobs or anything.
"I get plenty of pleasure doing it to you," she said with a dimply smile.
"I'd love to see your sexy body," I told her.
"Maybe I'll do it naked next time." Then she left. She always left. I never asked her to spend the night, but I figured the invitation was always just kind of implied. It wasn't like she ever left sad either. She left like it was time to go. But I didn't mind so much, especially with the prospect of seeing her naked the next night.
Next time came and went without any nudity on her part. I started to wonder if she had some serious deformities, or if maybe she was actually a dude. Maybe her body was covered in gonorrhea and the very sight of it would burn my eyes and cause my dick to fall off. I knew it was all ludicrous, that she was really probably just sensitive about her body or something like that, but it became my vow that I would get her naked one of these days.
The nightly ice cream blow jobs went on for the next month. Finals were getting close, and I knew her grades were suffering, but that wasn't what concerned me. I didn't have a place to stay in St. Louis for the summer, and I wasn't sure how I could go three months without her slurping cold cream off my sack. But soon I had an even bigger worry.
On the last day of April, the thirty-fifth straight night of BJs, I realized something as I watched her swallow my balls whole: I was in love with Krista. Not just in love with the idea of getting such exotic sexual pleasure, but actually in love with her as a person. I was just flat out in love with her. I wanted to marry her on the spot. She was my soul mate. Of course, I wasn't able to tell her because I blew my load right before the words came out, and the moment kind of faded when she sat there and ate my semen, but the thought never left my head. I was in love with her, and I needed to return the favor. I was going to eat custard off what I was certain was a delicious pussy, and I was going to do it that very night.
"Krista," I told her in my most serious tone.
"Yes?"
"I want to take you to Ted Drewes right now, and I want to go down on you with a big cup of vanilla custard."
She smiled and looked to ponder the idea for a moment.
"It would mean a lot to me. I want to taste the custard. I want to taste you."
I'd finally said the magic word. "Let's go," she said.
She kept her hand on my crotch the whole drive. I wasn't sure if it was an attempt to divert my attention away from her and back to my own pleasure, but all I could think about was how I was going to do it and how good it was going to taste. I knew the custard was incredible by her reaction every night. It couldn't have been the flabby and wrinkly scrotal skin that satisfied her cravings so much. No, there was something much more than that. I'd noticed that she didn't enjoy it as much when we used the ice cream from Bear Mart. The frozen custard was the key. Of course, that gave me the horrified thought that she was only using me, but I couldn't quite figure out how. Whatever she was doing though, there were so many thoughts rushing through my head, and that made me even more convinced that I was in love with her. And I was going to tell her right after I licked the final bit of custard off her vagina.
It was a Thursday, so the line wasn't as bad as usual. We got to the front within three minutes and had our cup of vanilla custard.
"Let's go to the park," I said with a smile.
"Why don't we do it at your place instead?" she said.
I agreed and Krista went back to the window to ask for some dry ice. "Gotta keep it frozen," she said as I opened the passenger door for her.
Even though I knew the custard wouldn't melt anytime soon, I drove fast and recklessly back to campus. Luckily the cops weren't out in full force that night.
My hands were shaking so much when we got back to the dorm that I had to swipe my card four times before the machine finally read the strip and let us in.
"Relax," she told me, but I just kept shaking.
"I'm just so excited for this," I told her. She smiled her dimply smile and I could tell how cute she thought my nervousness was.
As soon as we opened my door I did what I'd wanted to do since the first date. My hands went up under the shoulder straps of her little sundress, and down it went. Her body was immaculate. Not a mole or pimple or tan line to be found. I couldn't even detect the slightest bit of body hair as I studied every nook and cranny of her.
"Your body is flawless," I told her.
"Oh, I'm sure there are flaws," she said in what I assumed was false modesty. Then I had this horrible thought that as soon as I took off her panties I would be knocked out by some awful smell emanating from her crotch. I pulled them down carefully and was relived at the sweet scent that wafted out of her nicely-trimmed vaginal area.
"Flawless," I said again as I grabbed the cup out of her hand and gently led her down to the bed. She draped her legs over the side and I dropped to my knees, pushing apart her legs in the process.
"Your hands are so cold," she said playfully.
I didn't say anything, instead dipping two fingers in the custard and spreading it right above and right below her vagina. Then I plunged my tongue inside her and started lifting it up and down. The custard seeped into my nose, but all I could taste was her. It was liked eating a slightly overripe strawberry. Not a mushy or browning one. Just one that had gone a little past its peak, which is exactly how I like my berries. I knew at once why she got so much pleasure from doing it to me, and I knew she must love me back. It was probably the greatest moment of my life, eating her strawberry snatch with the prospect of the best frozen custard in the world for dessert.
As I continued to slide my tongue up and down and in and out, Krista moaned and rubbed her hands all over her perfect body. I placed my hands underneath her butt and lifted her hips a little off the bed, my tongue sinking deeper into the strawberry patch. She began panting and her hands reached for my head and dug into my scalp. I pulled her up higher and bounced in and out and then let her drop. After pulling my tongue out, I asked if she was ready. She nodded her head furiously like she'd never been this ready for anything. I was glad to see she knew how I'd felt all this time.
I could feel semen trickling out of my penis as I listened to her anticipatory pants and stared at her custard-surrounded vagina. Then I went in for the dessert. My tongue slid out of my mouth and I slowly leaned in. The moment the tip hit the custard, I recoiled, my face curling up and my mouth closing hard on my tongue. "Blah!" I said as I spit the bit of custard out of my mouth.
Krista panted a few more times before she realized that I had stopped.
"What's wrong she asked?" springing up to a sitting position.
I stood up off my knees and spit twice more. "That custard tastes like shit," I said. "It's the worst custard I've ever had."
"Are you serious?" Krista asked as she reached for the cup to test it. After one bite she said, "You're insane. This is amazing. It's just the best there is."
"No, no, it's gross."
"Are you saying I'm gross?"
I started to stutter and stumble on my words. "No, not at all," I managed. "You taste incredible," I said after I had gathered myself. "Please let me wipe off this awful custard and just finish the job."
She stood up and went for her panties and dress. "I've never been so offended in my life," she said.
"What are you doing? Please don't go," I pleaded.
"I'm not going to stick around with someone who just trashes the things I love." Krista was already in her dress.
"Who cares if I don't like the custard? I like you. No, I love you," I said, but I'm not sure she even heard me before she marched out the door.
I wanted to follow her, but I knew sometimes it was best just to give it some space. Besides, I wanted to get the awful taste of the custard out of my mouth.
The next day, I called Krista three times and went to her dorm once. Of course she never answered. I felt awful that she was offended, but I knew I hadn't really done anything wrong. Maybe I had overreacted to the custard though. Later I asked one of my suitemates if he wanted to go get some frozen custard.
"Sounds kinda gay, but sure," he joked.
"Ever heard of this place called Ted Drewes?"
"Yeah," he said. "The people around here just rave about it. It's like their Disney World or something."
John and I went off to Ted Drewes. He was from just outside Milwaukee, and he talked about all the great frozen custard they had up there. Coming from the heart of dairy country, I knew he was an expert on the stuff.
The line wasn't bad when we got there, so we didn't get much time to contemplate our order. He ordered an Oreo concrete and I got a chocolate one. We sat on the car and ate it while talking about Krista.
"You've been spending a lot of time with her," he said.
"Yeah, I know, but I think maybe that's over now," I said with a big spoonful in my mouth. I choked it down, but it really wasn't very good.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It's a little complicated, but I guess we could say it all boils down to a difference of opinion."
"That's too bad," he said. "She seemed like a good catch."
I thought about how right he was as we continued to eat. I wasn't sure why I kept eating it. Although it wasn't as cringe worthy as I had made it out to be the night before, it was pretty lousy. Probably the worst custard I'd ever had.
"You know," he said as we sat on the car, "this really isn't that good. Why does everyone rave about it?"
A couple of buff guys glared at us as they walked by. We wondered if they overhead his comment, and we thought maybe we should go before we got beat up.
"I guess some people just have a lot of pride in where they grew up," I said.
"Yeah, makes sense. The custard back home is way better than this. If you ever visit, you should come try it."
"Maybe I will," I said, but first I wanted to go a few months without any ice cream products and without any sex. It would probably be good for me. My balls needed some time to thaw out, and although I hadn't really been eating any ice cream, I was starting to put on some weight. Maybe I could start working out and find a normal girl and just have regular old sex, sans frozen treats.
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Nathaniel Tower writes fiction, teaches English, and manages the online lit magazine Bartleby Snopes. He has authored over 200 published stories. When not writing, he can be found joggling through the streets.
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Krista seemed normal enough, but if I'd known how wild and sticky things would get, I might've stayed away.
We met my sophomore year of college. She was standing in the quad looking up at a gargoyle on the side of a building I'd never even noticed. At the time I didn't know what she was looking at, which made it easy to go and talk to her.
"What are you looking at?" I asked in my ever-so-smooth first line.
It took her a minute to realize I was talking to her. "Are you talking to me?" she said just as smoothly.
"Of course," I said in a way I thought wasn't rude.
Then she told me about the gargoyle and I asked her out. She accepted and our first date was that night. I told her right on the spot that in addition to being the prettiest girl on campus (she wasn't), she was also the most interesting (she was). It's not that she wasn't attractive. She just wasn't what most guys would call hot. More of a cute type, I suppose. But something about her sure floated my boat, if you know what I mean.
She was a lot of things I wasn't. She was athletic, with a nice hard body that had a few curves in the right places. She went to church every week. She volunteered at a soup kitchen. I didn't even know where a soup kitchen was and had little desire to learn.
She worked hard to keep up her grades. I made the Dean's List without showing up for class, supposedly no small feat for our fine institution. Funny thing about that is that no one from my hometown up near Chicago had ever even heard of Wash U or Washington University or WUSTL or Washington University in St. Louis. It was impossible to explain to people where I was going, and they all wondered why someone so smart wasn't going to a good school. As well-ranked as it is, it sure doesn't seem to be known by the general public.
Krista was a local. Born and bred in St. Louis all her life. Her parents lived in Clayton, just minutes away from campus. Luckily for me they didn't come around much. I'm sure they were nice people once you got to know them, but I wasn't interested in knowing anything but her body.
She voted conservative. I didn't vote, although I doubt I would've supported the same candidate.
All of this pretty much came out on our first date. We talked rampantly for hours, and then I tried to get her to come back to my place without trying too hard. I ended up just giving her a goodnight kiss on the cheek and promised I'd see her again.
It seemed after our first date, as much as we got along and as easy as it was to talk to each other, that the only thing we had in common was a love for ice cream. We must've talked about our favorite flavors and brands and ice cream shops for an hour. Actually, she was more into frozen custard, which was fine with me even though I was never really sure what the difference was. She raved about this place called Ted Drewes that was like some historic landmark of St. Louis. It was more famous than The Arch, she told me. And more people went there, so she said. I doubted it, but you can't really tell someone you just met that you don't believe them, so I said she would have to take me sometime so I could compare it to my nineteen years of frozen dairy experience. For some reason this was funny to her, and she promised we would go the next chance we got.
Within a week, Krista and I had set up our next date; we were headed for Ted Drewes on a Friday night. "It'll be packed," she warned me. "But it's sooo worth it." And she was right, in a way.
I picked up Krista around seven and we drove over to the Chippewa location. Even though it was a little further away, she said it was worth the extra gas for the experience. I just went along, hoping it would lead to something else. She wore a little sundress with the thinnest straps. I kept picturing myself sliding my fingers underneath those straps and watching the dress slide off her body. It's not like I was a pervert or some sex fiend or anything. Truth is, I'd never even had intercourse before. I got a couple hand jobs in high school, and a girl and I went down on each other as freshmen in college, but that was about it. Somehow I knew that Krista would be the girl to get me out of my slump or whatever it was. I'm not really sure why since I was certain she had little to no experience. I just had a feeling.
The line was twice what I expected. Surely she had been exaggerating when she told me about how crazy people went for this frozen custard, but when we drove past the custard stand, there were people lined out into the street.
"This stuff must be amazing," I said.
"Oh, it is," she said with an odd wink.
We parked, waited in line, had small talk. It wasn't the most exciting date, but I enjoyed being with her enough. When we finally got to the front, she took charge and ordered two large vanilla concretes.
"Just vanilla?" I asked.
"Yup. You've gotta taste how good this custard is before you can load it up with junk."
She even paid for it, but I didn't feel emasculated or anything. I was an open-minded kind of guy, and I wasn't about to complain about getting free custard.
When our yellow cups arrived at the window, the employee turned them upside down to show us just how cold they were, and then we headed back to the car. With all those people there, you'd expect there'd be some place to eat the stuff, but there really wasn't. You just sat on the curb or on your car and plunged the spoon into the cup and into your mouth.
Back at my car I stopped and tried to sit on the trunk, but Krista said, "No, let's not eat it here. I've got a better idea." Again, there was an odd wink, and I was pretty confident I was going to get to see that dress slip off her body.
We drove for about five minutes to some park. I can't remember the name of it, and I'm not sure she ever even told me. She just pointed to where we were going and I blindly led with high expectations. After parking, she told me to take off my pants. This was a bit forward coming from a girl I'd never even kissed on the mouth, but for some reason I didn't mind. She seemed wholesome enough. I mean, vanilla custard. You can't get more wholesome than that.
Before I even had my pants all the way down, she grabbed my dick and gave it a few good tugs to make sure it was nice and hard. "This might be a little cold at first," she said, and then she dipped my balls in the custard. I thought they were going to retreat up into my kidneys. My boner almost went away, but I was so horny that I don't think anything could've shut me off completely.
With my balls fully submerged in the frozen custard, Krista began administering the finest blow job the world has ever known. At least it was better than the one I'd gotten before. It seemed to last forever. Every time I thought I was going to come, a wave of cold would block up the sperm. I couldn't see it, but I was sure my dick kept getting harder and bigger and purpler.
After what must've been ten minutes of intense sucking, Krista stopped and looked at me and asked if I was ready. I wasn't really sure what she meant, but I really hoped she wasn't asking if I wanted to leave.
"I'm ready for anything," I told her rather hopefully.
Krista pulled my balls out of the cup and leaned back into my crotch. She slowly slid her tongue out of her mouth and licked every bit of custard off my sack. As weird as it sounds, it felt a hundred times better than when she'd been sucking my dick. I moaned and squeezed the steering wheel hard and then let it fly. My semen squirted right onto her forehead and then oozed down the bridge of her nose and right onto her tongue. It looked like custard. She pulled her tongue in, took a big gulp, and then just about passed out on the seat. I'd never seen a woman look so satisfied. I wanted to feel proud of myself, but I hadn't done a thing. I hadn't even eaten any of the best custard in the world. Looking at the cup of melting vanilla, I knew I couldn't eat it then. "Maybe some other time," I told her as we buckled our seatbelts and drove off. She tossed the cups out the window into a pickup truck bed as we pulled back onto the main street. We drove in silence back to Wash U.
"So, what did you think about Ted Drewes?" she asked when we arrived back at her dorm.
"That was without a doubt the best frozen dairy dessert experience of my life," I told her with a laugh. She smiled and said, "Good. Best of mine as well." She gave me a deep kiss on the lips, which I enjoyed at first until her tongue slid into my mouth and I thought of my semen dripping down her face.
I wanted to ask if she'd done that before, but I was too sure the answer was yes. Besides, I didn't know her well enough to go there, and it didn't matter to me anyway since I was more looking for a hook up rather than a real relationship. Still, as I watched her get out of the car and sashay away in her little sundress, I couldn't help but feel jealous about every ice cream blow job she'd ever given. Just how many were there, I wondered. I knew I couldn't have been the first. She was just too good at it, and she knew exactly what she was doing the whole time.
She called me the next day and asked what I wanted to do that night. As much as I wanted a repeat of the night before, I didn't want to seem like I was just in it for the sex, so I told her we should see a movie. Besides, I wanted to get to know her a little and see if she was at least clean before I got too deep into this.
We saw some ridiculous romantic comedy at the nearby Esquire. Even though it was only a mile or so away from the campus, it was the first time I'd been there. It felt a lot dingier than the theatres I went to back home, but I enjoyed spending the time with Krista. Because it was so close, we walked, which was a nice way of getting a feel for what kind of person she was. Unfortunately for me, it was hard to pay attention to anything she said. I just kept thinking about what had happened the night before and if it would happen again or if there was something else she had planned for the second date. Hopefully she didn't have any sex tricks with the hot butter from the popcorn. Frozen balls I could do, but I wanted to stay away from melting scrotums.
We held hands the whole walk back, and she kept pressing up against me and talking about how much she enjoyed being with me.
"Listen, about last night," she said when we were about a block away from campus, "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I've never done that before. Honest. I just wanted to eat the custard, but being with you last night just made me horny and I wanted to try something crazy."
I looked at her and smiled. "I'm horny when I'm with you," I said, hoping it was the right thing to say. Apparently it was. "Let's go to Ted Drewes," she said when we got back to my dorm. "Okay," I said all too eagerly, but she just laughed and told me how cute I was. Then we ran off to my car, and I do mean ran. The whole drive I stroked her smooth leg and it felt like my dick was going to burst through my cargo shorts. She just kept giggling and saying that she was going to get chocolate tonight.
The line was brutal, and I made her stand in front of me, her ass pressed against me, to hide my boner. I don't know how I managed to stay hard that long, but the thing just wouldn't go down. When we finally ordered our cup of chocolate, I wanted her to rip off my pants and do it right there. Of course we couldn't since it was so damn crowded, so we hurried to the car and drove back to our park. She unzipped my pants on the way there and had my balls dipped in the cup before the car was even in park. This time she sucked for a full fifteen minutes before going for my balls. Instead of a slow lick though, she dipped my balls into her mouth like a cherry and scraped the custard off with her teeth. It was nowhere near as painful as it sounds. I clutched the steering wheel hard and blew my load against the dashboard. She quickly pulled my balls out of her mouth when she heard my semen smack against the dash. Putting the cup of melting custard underneath, she let the dripping semen slide in and mix with the chocolate. Than she chugged it down in one gulp. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Mr. Drewes seems to be missing a key ingredient in his custard," she told me before collapsing back into her seat.
"Wanna go get another cup so I can do you?" I asked, but she shook her head and smiled. "Just take me home," she said with what must've been her last ounce of strength.
Again the car ride was silent, and again she gave me a deep kiss when we returned to campus. I wanted to ask her back to my place, but it didn't seem quite right. Maybe I'd have the courage after the next date.
We went to Ted Drewes every night that week. The next week I just bought a gallon of ice cream from Bear Mart and we did our routine in my dorm room. Somehow she found a different way to do it every night, and somehow it felt better every night. The girl sure knew how to mix things up. I tried to reciprocate every time, but she would never let me. I never even got to see her boobs or anything.
"I get plenty of pleasure doing it to you," she said with a dimply smile.
"I'd love to see your sexy body," I told her.
"Maybe I'll do it naked next time." Then she left. She always left. I never asked her to spend the night, but I figured the invitation was always just kind of implied. It wasn't like she ever left sad either. She left like it was time to go. But I didn't mind so much, especially with the prospect of seeing her naked the next night.
Next time came and went without any nudity on her part. I started to wonder if she had some serious deformities, or if maybe she was actually a dude. Maybe her body was covered in gonorrhea and the very sight of it would burn my eyes and cause my dick to fall off. I knew it was all ludicrous, that she was really probably just sensitive about her body or something like that, but it became my vow that I would get her naked one of these days.
The nightly ice cream blow jobs went on for the next month. Finals were getting close, and I knew her grades were suffering, but that wasn't what concerned me. I didn't have a place to stay in St. Louis for the summer, and I wasn't sure how I could go three months without her slurping cold cream off my sack. But soon I had an even bigger worry.
On the last day of April, the thirty-fifth straight night of BJs, I realized something as I watched her swallow my balls whole: I was in love with Krista. Not just in love with the idea of getting such exotic sexual pleasure, but actually in love with her as a person. I was just flat out in love with her. I wanted to marry her on the spot. She was my soul mate. Of course, I wasn't able to tell her because I blew my load right before the words came out, and the moment kind of faded when she sat there and ate my semen, but the thought never left my head. I was in love with her, and I needed to return the favor. I was going to eat custard off what I was certain was a delicious pussy, and I was going to do it that very night.
"Krista," I told her in my most serious tone.
"Yes?"
"I want to take you to Ted Drewes right now, and I want to go down on you with a big cup of vanilla custard."
She smiled and looked to ponder the idea for a moment.
"It would mean a lot to me. I want to taste the custard. I want to taste you."
I'd finally said the magic word. "Let's go," she said.
She kept her hand on my crotch the whole drive. I wasn't sure if it was an attempt to divert my attention away from her and back to my own pleasure, but all I could think about was how I was going to do it and how good it was going to taste. I knew the custard was incredible by her reaction every night. It couldn't have been the flabby and wrinkly scrotal skin that satisfied her cravings so much. No, there was something much more than that. I'd noticed that she didn't enjoy it as much when we used the ice cream from Bear Mart. The frozen custard was the key. Of course, that gave me the horrified thought that she was only using me, but I couldn't quite figure out how. Whatever she was doing though, there were so many thoughts rushing through my head, and that made me even more convinced that I was in love with her. And I was going to tell her right after I licked the final bit of custard off her vagina.
It was a Thursday, so the line wasn't as bad as usual. We got to the front within three minutes and had our cup of vanilla custard.
"Let's go to the park," I said with a smile.
"Why don't we do it at your place instead?" she said.
I agreed and Krista went back to the window to ask for some dry ice. "Gotta keep it frozen," she said as I opened the passenger door for her.
Even though I knew the custard wouldn't melt anytime soon, I drove fast and recklessly back to campus. Luckily the cops weren't out in full force that night.
My hands were shaking so much when we got back to the dorm that I had to swipe my card four times before the machine finally read the strip and let us in.
"Relax," she told me, but I just kept shaking.
"I'm just so excited for this," I told her. She smiled her dimply smile and I could tell how cute she thought my nervousness was.
As soon as we opened my door I did what I'd wanted to do since the first date. My hands went up under the shoulder straps of her little sundress, and down it went. Her body was immaculate. Not a mole or pimple or tan line to be found. I couldn't even detect the slightest bit of body hair as I studied every nook and cranny of her.
"Your body is flawless," I told her.
"Oh, I'm sure there are flaws," she said in what I assumed was false modesty. Then I had this horrible thought that as soon as I took off her panties I would be knocked out by some awful smell emanating from her crotch. I pulled them down carefully and was relived at the sweet scent that wafted out of her nicely-trimmed vaginal area.
"Flawless," I said again as I grabbed the cup out of her hand and gently led her down to the bed. She draped her legs over the side and I dropped to my knees, pushing apart her legs in the process.
"Your hands are so cold," she said playfully.
I didn't say anything, instead dipping two fingers in the custard and spreading it right above and right below her vagina. Then I plunged my tongue inside her and started lifting it up and down. The custard seeped into my nose, but all I could taste was her. It was liked eating a slightly overripe strawberry. Not a mushy or browning one. Just one that had gone a little past its peak, which is exactly how I like my berries. I knew at once why she got so much pleasure from doing it to me, and I knew she must love me back. It was probably the greatest moment of my life, eating her strawberry snatch with the prospect of the best frozen custard in the world for dessert.
As I continued to slide my tongue up and down and in and out, Krista moaned and rubbed her hands all over her perfect body. I placed my hands underneath her butt and lifted her hips a little off the bed, my tongue sinking deeper into the strawberry patch. She began panting and her hands reached for my head and dug into my scalp. I pulled her up higher and bounced in and out and then let her drop. After pulling my tongue out, I asked if she was ready. She nodded her head furiously like she'd never been this ready for anything. I was glad to see she knew how I'd felt all this time.
I could feel semen trickling out of my penis as I listened to her anticipatory pants and stared at her custard-surrounded vagina. Then I went in for the dessert. My tongue slid out of my mouth and I slowly leaned in. The moment the tip hit the custard, I recoiled, my face curling up and my mouth closing hard on my tongue. "Blah!" I said as I spit the bit of custard out of my mouth.
Krista panted a few more times before she realized that I had stopped.
"What's wrong she asked?" springing up to a sitting position.
I stood up off my knees and spit twice more. "That custard tastes like shit," I said. "It's the worst custard I've ever had."
"Are you serious?" Krista asked as she reached for the cup to test it. After one bite she said, "You're insane. This is amazing. It's just the best there is."
"No, no, it's gross."
"Are you saying I'm gross?"
I started to stutter and stumble on my words. "No, not at all," I managed. "You taste incredible," I said after I had gathered myself. "Please let me wipe off this awful custard and just finish the job."
She stood up and went for her panties and dress. "I've never been so offended in my life," she said.
"What are you doing? Please don't go," I pleaded.
"I'm not going to stick around with someone who just trashes the things I love." Krista was already in her dress.
"Who cares if I don't like the custard? I like you. No, I love you," I said, but I'm not sure she even heard me before she marched out the door.
I wanted to follow her, but I knew sometimes it was best just to give it some space. Besides, I wanted to get the awful taste of the custard out of my mouth.
The next day, I called Krista three times and went to her dorm once. Of course she never answered. I felt awful that she was offended, but I knew I hadn't really done anything wrong. Maybe I had overreacted to the custard though. Later I asked one of my suitemates if he wanted to go get some frozen custard.
"Sounds kinda gay, but sure," he joked.
"Ever heard of this place called Ted Drewes?"
"Yeah," he said. "The people around here just rave about it. It's like their Disney World or something."
John and I went off to Ted Drewes. He was from just outside Milwaukee, and he talked about all the great frozen custard they had up there. Coming from the heart of dairy country, I knew he was an expert on the stuff.
The line wasn't bad when we got there, so we didn't get much time to contemplate our order. He ordered an Oreo concrete and I got a chocolate one. We sat on the car and ate it while talking about Krista.
"You've been spending a lot of time with her," he said.
"Yeah, I know, but I think maybe that's over now," I said with a big spoonful in my mouth. I choked it down, but it really wasn't very good.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It's a little complicated, but I guess we could say it all boils down to a difference of opinion."
"That's too bad," he said. "She seemed like a good catch."
I thought about how right he was as we continued to eat. I wasn't sure why I kept eating it. Although it wasn't as cringe worthy as I had made it out to be the night before, it was pretty lousy. Probably the worst custard I'd ever had.
"You know," he said as we sat on the car, "this really isn't that good. Why does everyone rave about it?"
A couple of buff guys glared at us as they walked by. We wondered if they overhead his comment, and we thought maybe we should go before we got beat up.
"I guess some people just have a lot of pride in where they grew up," I said.
"Yeah, makes sense. The custard back home is way better than this. If you ever visit, you should come try it."
"Maybe I will," I said, but first I wanted to go a few months without any ice cream products and without any sex. It would probably be good for me. My balls needed some time to thaw out, and although I hadn't really been eating any ice cream, I was starting to put on some weight. Maybe I could start working out and find a normal girl and just have regular old sex, sans frozen treats.
- - -
Nathaniel Tower writes fiction, teaches English, and manages the online lit magazine Bartleby Snopes. He has authored over 200 published stories. When not writing, he can be found joggling through the streets.
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