Ice Cream Man (4 page)

He didn’t mind a full-figured woman or someone older than him, like Janice, either. It would have been great to talk to her longer. She was someone in control of her life, who knew the direction she was going. Helping those children in Ethiopia was a selfless act. He didn’t personally know anyone in New York City who had done anything like that.

Lately it seemed as though all he could do was think about his own life and how things were not going his way. How would he get the audition he wanted? Should he return to college and pursue a different degree? He had been thinking too selfishly.

He let out a breath. Maybe he should he just give in to his worst nightmare and go back to Texas. It might be easier to scrape the extra money together for his mother every month in a place that wasn’t as expensive as New York. His mom’s social security check just wasn’t enough for her to live decently anymore and he couldn’t stand the thought of her giving up something she needed. It was important for him to help her.

But then he’d have to leave Janice.

The Fudgsicle idea had popped into his mind spontaneously, but it had worked out pretty well. All in fun. Janice seemed to enjoy it and so did he. He was surprised to feel an erection coming on when he was pulling the ice cream back and forth from her mouth. That’s what watching too closely would do to you. He smiled. The dark, full lips of Janice Freeman had been calling to him. As he slid his cock in and out of that mouth as she sucked hard on him and kissed the sticky sweetness of those lips before he left, it felt good. Really good!

As he watched the sun going down in the west, he made the decision. He would go back to see Janice now. The ebony beauty that had made his day needed one last viewing before he went back to Queens to drop off his ice cream truck and call it a night. And he wouldn’t say a thing about what happened after she ate the Fudgsicle unless she did. He intended to be respectful.

As he turned north on Second Avenue, he took a comb out of his pocket and ran it through his hair. He drank down half a bottle of water. The first day of work hadn’t been all that bad. He had sold a lot of ice cream and had an interesting woman who was calling to him.

Turning right on St. Mark’s Place, he saw plenty of people walking outside. The evening was heating up in East Village. Parking was at a premium on the street, but Antonio was lucky. A late delivery truck pulled out of a space not too far away from Janice’s shop. He slid into the space, got out of his truck and locked the door.

The inside lights were aglow inside her tiny shop. Antonio opened the door and went in. He looked down the few rows of clothes, but saw no one.

“Janice,” he called out.

The rear room opened and there she was. The stained white cashmere sweater had been replaced by a tight tangerine blouse that accentuated the fullness of her breasts. She had a half-sandwich in her hand and a bite in her mouth.

Her eyes widened. “Antonio? What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come back and visit. I didn’t get to say goodbye earlier.” He smiled. “When my customers left, you still had yours.”

She nodded. “They were here over an hour.”

“So did you sell anything today?”

Her lips opened in a grin. “I did. The woman that was here when you left bought an African outfit. Then I had another customer later in the afternoon who bought a dress. It was actually a great day.”

“Wow! That’s cause to celebrate.”

“It is.” Janice raised her eyebrows. “Every time I sell one of my African outfits, it makes me feel closer to my dream.”

“I thought helping those children in Ethiopia was your dream.”

She tilted her head at him. “They are already a reality for me. I have a dream, too.”

He frowned. “What is your dream?”

“To get African clothes on the runway.”

“Hmm. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I guess I don’t understand much about African clothes. They’re not already on the runway?”

“No. There are African-American and African fashion designers, but African designs are not in fashion shows. I feel strongly that African influences with traditionally worn African attire need to be featured prominently. It is time. They are beautiful and a part of many people’s heritage.” Janice shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing more models of color either.

“I think I understand what you’re talking about now.” Antonio nodded. “I’ve been around a lot of models in the past during my photo shoot days, but can’t think of one black girl I knew.”

“No matter, I’m quite happy today.” She paused and glanced up at him. “In more ways than one.”

He wasn’t sure how to take her remark. Was she talking about the oral sex? He wasn’t sure what to say next. “Were you able to get the chocolate out of your sweater?”

She let out a breath. “My sweater is soaking but probably will never be the same again. It’s all your fault, Antonio.” Her eyes twinkled.

“I’m sorry, Janice. I didn’t mean for your sweater to get stained. I thought your mouth would catch all the drips.” Antonio smiled.

“I did try to catch all the drips, but it just melted too quickly.”

“It’s just like me not to miss out on fun opportunities when they present themselves. I hope you’re not too upset.” He gave a quick bow. “I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not.” She shrugged. “Clothes come and clothes go. You took me out of my misery this morning and that’s what counts. No worries from me.”

“That makes me feel better.” He nodded, but couldn’t help but glance at how nicely the blouse fit over her full breasts. Janice was a very sexy woman. “Do you always match so perfectly?”

She laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“What you wear. You had on your green skirt and shoes with a white sweater this morning. Your tangerine blouse matches, too.”

“Ah. A man who notices details like that.” Janice tilted her head. “I match perfectly all the time, even my accessories. I’m a designer and I will look the part every day of my life. I want perfection in my garments and perfection in me.” She looked away. “Well, I know I’m not perfect.”

“Pretty damn close.”

“Haha. You’re real funny, Antonio. How about sharing my bottle of wine with me to celebrate? I just opened one to drink with dinner.” She waved the sandwich. “You can have the other half of this. That is, if you like turkey.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “To both, I like turkey and wine.”

Janice walked over to the front door of her shop and turned the latch. “Guess I’m closed for the evening. I deserve it. It was a good day.” She pulled down the small shade.

“I had a good day, too.” He glanced around him. “So you live here?”

“Upstairs.” She pointed a finger up toward the ceiling. “It’s just an efficiency apartment. I’m not much of a cook and don’t need a great deal of room. My life is down here.” She tilted her head behind her and grinned. “Back there, I should say. In my sewing room.”

“I’ve never known a designer before.” He was finding Janice intriguing. Antonio had always found himself attracted to black women, but never one that was older than him. Janice was attractive, curvy and friendly. Antonio loved that she was a designer. An artist, like he was trying to be. Even though designing clothes was different than acting, it was still art.

“I’ve never known an ice cream man before.” Janice smiled, then wrinkled up her nose. “Oops. I know you’re really an actor. Sorry about that, my turn to apologize.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. Doesn’t bother me. I haven’t been much of an actor lately.”

Janice held up a finger. “You’re trying. That is what’s important.”

She walked toward her sewing room and disappeared for a moment. Bringing back the wine bottle and glasses, she sat them down on the desk. “Here. Pour for us.”

As he poured the Malbec into the two wine glasses, she went into the back room and brought him out his half of the sandwich wrapped in a napkin. Another chair was brought from the back room and they sat down together at her desk.

“Thanks.” He ate his part of the sandwich quickly and drank down his wine. Although he was hungry for nourishment, he was finding he was becoming even hungrier for her. As she moved, her curves called to him. Janice had the perfect hour-glass figure. She crossed one shapely leg over the other and he found the movement intriguing. He wanted to caress her leg with his hand, slowly, very slowly. Looking at the crossed one, he guessed that both legs were silky smooth. The designing woman in her wouldn’t let them be any other way. They had to be as perfect as possible.

She caught him looking and flexed the crossed leg to peek at it. “Something wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head and grinned. “Everything is right.”

Janice looked perplexed. “What do you mean? What’s right?”

Antonio looked admiringly to her leg again. “That leg, for example.”

She took another sip of wine and held the leg out. “This leg?”

He nodded as he edged closer to her and held out a hand. “You mind?”

Her face looked scared for a moment, then she shook her head.

Antonio leaned over and placed a hand over her ankle. The green silk pump helped accentuate everything female about that leg. He slid his fingers up her leg to her shapely calf, where he lingered. Massaging the skin, he smiled. “I knew your leg would be smooth, but I had to find out for myself.” He glanced to her face. “Janice, you have beautiful legs.”

A blush spread over her face that wasn’t from the wine. “Thanks.”

His hand continued moving. To her knee. Over her knee. He stopped. Looking into her eyes, he knew. She didn’t mind what he was doing at all. In fact, she was taking little breaths in and out of her mouth as she watched his hand glide over her leg. Was she getting excited? “Janice?”

“What?” She could barely breathe out.

“Should we have dessert?”

“Dessert?” She looked him in the eyes with the cool, dark water of hers. “I love dessert. I loved it earlier and I’ll love it now.”

Antonio raised his eyebrows. “Then give me a minute and I’ll get some.” Taking his hand from her leg, he rose from his seat. His cock was pressing hard against his pants and he knew why. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way he hadn’t felt in months. Moving to the front door, he unlocked it and went outside.

People were everywhere. The bar across the street was starting to fill up on their outside patio. Normally he would be interested in this part of East Village after dark. Hanging at a bar here was great fun and he’d done it before. Now he seldom left his basement apartment in Queens at night due to funds. He found it hard to believe he was still over here in Manhattan, after work, and with a fashion designer no less. Not a famous one, but it didn’t matter. She probably wouldn’t have been so friendly to him if she was. Out-of-work actors in New York City were all over the place. It was amazing that he had even met her. What was even more amazing was that they seemed to have a connection.

Antonio could feel the excitement building as he hurried to his truck. Ice cream, He’d take it back in multiples to her. Didn’t know what they’d be doing with it, didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted to share it with her. Pull it in and out of her mouth like he had done earlier, but with a difference. This time his mouth would be in tune with hers. Eating the ice cream and kissing her, watching as she took quick breaths of excitement. He could see it in his mind. Their tongues would be in sync, their bodies ready for serious action. If it progressed to something else like earlier, he wouldn’t mind. He didn’t care that Janice was older than him. He’d make love to her with everything he had. But would she mind him sliding his twenty-seven year old cock inside of her? He certainly hoped not, because that’s what he wanted to do. With those wonderful thoughts in mind, he entered his truck and took out three different kinds of ice cream.

As he walked back into her shop, she had already poured them another glass of wine. She sat at her desk with arms and legs crossed.

“What did you bring this time, ice cream man?” She smiled.

Whether her confidence was coming from the wine or not didn’t matter to Antonio. They were both on the same wavelength.

He threw the three choices on her desk and lifted his eyebrows. “We have a cherry Popsicle, a snow cone and an orange sherbet push-up.”

She put a finger to her lips and traced them with a finger. “Hmm. How about the push-up?”

Antonio nodded. He moved one side of his curly hair over his ears and sat down closely to Janice. Slowly peeling the white top off the orange sherbet, he leaned over and put it near her mouth. “Have a taste.”

Sticking out her tongue, she twirled it around the top of the cold push-up. Round and round. Antonio watched her mouth carefully. A repeat six hours later from the first one. As her pink tongue jutted out from the full lips he knew he needed to be in on this action. He stared into her eyes. They seemed to dance back at him, teasing him.
Good
. She was a woman ready to play.

“Janice,” he whispered, as he leaned closer, “give me a taste.”

Putting his face closer to hers, he stuck out his tongue and licked over the top of the ice cream. She followed suit. The second time Antonio lingered with his tongue on the top waiting for Janice to put hers out. She seemed hesitant at first, as if she wasn’t sure he meant for her to do it. Letting her tongue ease out tentatively, he made sure his went farther, quicker. Their tongues touched on the top of the push-up. Cold. Wet. Ready.