Sensual Sunday is a weekly sensual observation or short story.
He bought me a candy apple. The kind with the hard glossy coating and I smiled coyly as he presented it to me. It was fancy, for a carnival apple, wrapped elegantly with a bow closing it at the top. I stuck my finger inside one of the red and white gingham loops and traced it with my finger. I twirled one of the loose ends and tugged, popping the ribbon free. He held his hand out and I dropped it into his palm, as though it were a pair of my panties. As he watched, I peeled the sticking wrapper away from the treat, enjoying the crinkle of the genuine cellophane. My smile was toothy and joyful now, as I felt my teasing kitten routine falter for a moment. As soon as I put tongue to the apple’s sweet coating, I turned my eyes up at him. He smiled, proud he’d pleased me. I thought about kneeling right there on the pavement and unzipping his jeans. Pulling him out and putting candy apple kisses all over it. My tender knees on the bumpy biting asphalt. People stopping to stare. Couples getting turned on and rushing home to fuck each others’ brains out. I ran my lips across the damp sticky lollipop surface and stepped in to kiss him. We stood there, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, the lights and whirling sounds and chatter of people all around us. He pressed against me so hard I thought I would fall over. I could feel him hard, right through his jeans, and I was aching to touch him there. We held each other tightly as he licked the sticky cherry flavoring from my lips. He’s usually a shy boy, so he pulled away when he noticed people stopping, furrowing their brows and giving us disapproving looks. Not much later that evening we would sneak into my basement rec-room while my parents slept innocently two floors above us.