She sits there, staring at the still melted, if not much cooler, ice cream. The idea races through her head, squirming she rests back against the sofa... pulling the existing spoon from the bucket she eats a scoop, before finally deciding, her breathing returns to being short and sharp as she takes another scoop of the ice cream, and holds it over her nipple.Biting her lip she shakily tips the spoon, pouring the ice cream onto her nipple. It sent jolts through her, the cold liquid causing her. She found herself drifting as he spoke, her eyes and mind seeking out the young waiter, who smiled at her whenever she caught his eye. When he served the main course she has made a point of touching his hand as if by mistake, Bob was lost in a story about the office as they once more made eye contact, the electricity clear between them. Just as the main course was being removed Bob’s phone rang, he apologized saying that he had to take the call and stood up and walked away from the table, that. More

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