Letter 25 Ice Cream.

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From Shanti,            
Titirangi,            
Auckland,            
New Zealand.            

            To Joseph,
            The Game Reserve,
            Andhra Pradesh,
            India.

Dear Joseph and Lizamoa,
        Again we thank you for a lovely letter and an interesting one too. We are doing well here in New Zealand and we hope you both are doing the same too.
        First, against Mike’s advice, I must comment on your change of clothing Lizamoa. Keep it up. You are a beautiful woman Lizamoa and so you can wear whatever you like and still look good in it. And Joseph she can’t wear those hot leather boots in a sari, can she?

        Now for your travel plans. We want your trip to New Zealand to be the best that we can make it so knowing the kind of things which would be of interest to you both would help us with planning.
        Mike’s suggestion is that you may be interested in the rural and farming side of New Zealand Joseph so he has found a good farm show and has thought of some parks where we can visit and maybe take some bush walks.
        We have included a list of places and attractions we can take you to while you are in New Zealand. Could you have a look through it and in your next letter tell us which ones are of interest to you?

        This letter was mainly going to be about your travel plans and the last arrangements. But I must include a short story first.
        It was an impulse idea. Just one of those whims that strike suddenly. We were driving back from Mike's uncle's farm, and we had to stop. We had to have an ice cream!
        This place had the best. Double scoop cones! Delicious handmade ice cream with real fruit too! Giggling like a couple of kids, we slid into the only available booth, one near the back of the store.
        “You’re getting all messy,” he said, watching a drop of ice cream roll down the side of the cone onto my hand. “Maybe it’s too much for you to handle.”
        “Too much for me to handle?”
        I raised an eyebrow at that one. Twisting the cone in my hand, I looked it over carefully. “I think I’ve handled bigger,” I said, a wicked note creeping into my voice.
        Pressing my tongue flat against the ice cream, I licked straight up the ice cream, my eyes half-closed. Repeating the motion, I worked my way around the cone, until I finally captured the offending drip with the tip of my tongue.
        Mike’s eyes were glued to my every movement and he swallowed hard when I stopped and looked at him.
        “If I apologise now,” he said, “will you stop?”
        My only answer was a soft smile. Rubbing the ice cream against my lips, I captured the tip of the ice cream, sucking momentarily before I began licking again. Up and down, around the cone, shaping the ice cream, making it into a round bulb, all the time knowing he couldn’t look away.
“Mmmm. Not bad,” I said softly.

        Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a table of college-age boys across the room watching me as closely as the man across the table was. It was hard to keep the smile off my face, knowing I had this sudden audience.
        I also noticed there were a couple of men on the other side. A single woman in the booth behind him and an older couple across the aisle from her. Yes, like the group of students, they were all watching. Playing to them as much as playing for Mike, I had to continue.
        “See Honey? No more mess,” I said as my tongue smeared the ice cream drop along my lips.
        Holding the cone in both hands, I wrapped my lips around the tip of the ice cream, moving my head down until my lips touched the cone. He gasped, his own cone all but forgotten. When I raised my head, I left the tip of the ice cream slightly bulbous.
        “Problem, love?” I asked before I bent forward again, my lips stretching to take the cone into my mouth.
        “You do know that other people are watching, don’t you?”
        I nodded, lowering my head down the ice cream shaft again. Up and down, bobbing faster, making little moaning sounds in my throat.
        I continued, giving a few sucks, licking over and around the head before giving a few more sucks.
        “Maybe we should think about going,” I said after a moment.
        “Going?” He shifted on the seat. “I don’t think I can walk yet.”
        "I can fix that," I replied to him.
        I laughed, pressing the ice cream with my tongue I pushed it deep into my mouth, then suddenly taking a bite I bit into it, my teeth shearing it off just above the cone. As I swallowed the mouthful of ice cream I could hear the groans from my audience clear across the room.

        “But just think of all the fun we could have at home now. After all, we’re all warmed up now, aren’t you?” I smirked.
        “Well, I’m certainly warm.” Mike stood, dumping the rest of his cone into the rubbish bin.         “Are you coming?” he asked looking back down at me.
        “Uhm, not yet,” I began, sliding out of the booth, “but I am sure we both will be as soon as we get home.”
        “Augh!”
        He turned and headed for the door.
        Smiling, I followed behind him. Pausing at the table where my audience sat, I leant over, winking. “Guess what he’s going to get when we get home?” I said to them.
        They were still sitting there with their mouths wide open as I left.

        Well, again it is time to park my pen. This will be my last letter before you come to New Zealand.

        Looking forward to meeting you soon.
                Bye for now,
                        Lots of love from,
                                Shanti and Mike.

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