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Joey LaFiamma leaned against the wall in Cindy’s Corner, a new little ice cream store, which had just opened around the corner from Reisner’s parking garage.
Looking at the number 7 clutched between his fingers Joe smiled as number 6 was called. He was up next and could hardly wait to get some of that delicious Wisconsin, high in butter fat ice cream between his lips. These Texans didn’t know what good ice cream was… it was more ice than cream. Not so with Cindy’s who trucked it in from the Dairy State in refrigerated trucks. Business had been booming since she opened a month ago.
Usually Joe sat at one of the table along the wall and leisurely inhaled it. Today he had plans to do the same at Reisner and give his cowboy partner a thrill. That man had been utterly exasperating lately and Joe figured a good hard-on might relieve the dude of some anxiety over losing Jamie to a guy at the bank. Course if he turned on some others along the way that would be all right too. The more the merrier. He loved group sex, especially if he was the director. Something he really missed about Chicago was the weekend fucking parties at his cousin Tony’s house.
“Number 7!”
LaFiamma stepped up to the counter and ordered a double dip on a regular cone… dark chocolate on the bottom and caramel praline on top. He handed Cindy the money as he always did, not waiting for the change, and headed for the door.
“Joe … not staying today?” Cindy Dobson asked. The sadness in her voice caught Joe by surprise.
“Got work to do Cindy,” Joe said as he grabbed the door handle that said ‘PUSH.’ “Next time for sure, though.”
The Italian jogged around the corner and through the underside of the parking garage being very carefully not to jostle the cone or drop it. He licked at a few of the drips that were starting to curl around his fingers but only enough so none was wasted. Entering the police department’s booking area he was stopped short by the daytime desk sergeant.
“Where you think you’re going with that thing, LaFiamma? You’re not dripping that on the floor for someone to slide on! Over there –“ Murphy growled pointing to a bench along the wall.
“But…. I have to meet Lundy upstairs.” Joe moaned begrudgingly walking over to the bench that was in full view of every cop coming in and leaving for shift change.
And so he sat. The Northerner …. The Italian... who was about to give a very seductive lesson in ice cream cone eating to a bunch of Texas red-neck cops.
-=-=-=-
“It’s dripping on your fingers LaFiamma!” Someone called, “don’t waste it!”
Joe’s tongue came out and the tip caressed the top edge of the cone licking up all that dripped. Then his thick tongue lapped slowly at the softening chocolate and blended it with the caramel praline. At the top of the cone he noisily sucked in a large pecan, before bringing up the fingers on his right hand that had held the cone as he jogged from Cindy’s to the station.
Making a ‘0’ with his mouth, he innocently looked at the drips as they had wound around his fingers. Gingerly, seductively, he put one finger into his mouth. Closed his mouth and slowly pulled the clean finger out. Looked at another one and did the same until all four were void of chocolate.
As the fourth finger emerged from Joe’s mouth, someone shrieked, “Oh god! Get him out of here!”
“Whaaaat?” LaFiamma muttered looking up. Glancing around the room he saw a variety of uniformed and motorcycle cops watching him. Joe observed that one motor cop, even with all the gear hanging off his belt, had a hard-on that was definitely visible. Hell, his cock was harder than the Billy-club he wore.
“What? Murphy told me to sit here and not drip it on the floor! Complain to him!” The Italian said, as he went back to licking his cone.
Seconds later, Murphy barked for him to get upstairs. Joe rose slowly, his tongue never leaving its set path around the chocolate ice cream that was beginning to melt faster now. He stopped momentarily in front of the motorcycle cop who wore the name plate of Mendoza.
Gruffly LaFiamma rasped into the man’s face as others in the room evaporated. “Ice cream is much better there than the honey you allowed on Saturday night. It was stupid to exposure yourself like that. Never know who might have seen you. Chocolate is much better and far less messy. Want more? Come to Lundy’s tonight.”
No one seemed to notice that the whole time LaFiamma was speaking with Mendoza, Joe’s fingers were stroking the man’s cock.
Joey’s teeth took one of the pecans out of the top scoop, sucked into his mouth then brought it out again. His right fingers took it off his tongue and moved to Frankie’s mouth which obediently opened.
“Eight o’clock tonight at Lundy’s … or as soon after that as you can make it. Bring a pint of dark chocolate ice cream from Cindy’s Corner with you too.”
LaFiamma left Frankie standing there as he headed for the stairs, looking back just as he entered, he grinned at what he saw. Officer Frankie Mendoza was playing with the pecan Joe had placed in his mouth … letting it protrude from his lips then sucking it back in. Little did Frankie know that as soon as he cracked the nut in half with his teeth his cock would explode inside his uniform.
=-=--=-=-=-
“Where the hell you been, LaFiamma?” Lundy growled angrily as Joe walked through the Squad room double doors.
“Downstairs. Murphy wouldn’t let me come up until my cone was almost done.” LaFiamma remarked folding himself into his swivel desk chair. “So, what’s up for today?”
“We got… we got….” Was all Levon could say as Joe brought the ice cream cone to his mouth. His mouth opened and he placed the whole thing inside. Slowly he pulled it back out forming what was left of the ice cream into short square rod.
Lundy’s gasp caught in his throat as he watched his partner begin to bite off pieces of ice cream. The crunch of the pecans as Joe chewed them did nothing to appease the growing organ between his legs. Was the guy so damn innocent that he didn’t know what effect he was having on people?
The final noise of <<Sssshhh>> as Joe sucked the balance of the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone before popping the rest into his mouth, brought the sound of clunks of two heads going down on something hard – one onto metal, one onto wood. Joe looked up to see his partner’s head resting on the man’s desktop. Looking around the room, he observed Estaban Gutierrez standing next to the file cabinet with his head on a stack of papers.
“LaFiamma,” Joe-Bill chortled, “who taught you to eat a cone like that? It is damn seductive, man.”
“Seductive? What do you mean? You lick around the edge to keep it from melting and …. Seductive? You’re kidding me, right?” LaFiamma replied standing. He walked slowly to the side of Levon’s desk, then went to a crouched position between Levon and Joe-Bill.
“You okay Lundy?” Joey asked, while his right hand went under the desk to touch the man’s hardened cock. LaFiamma’s fingers quickly worked open the jeans zipper and began a quick hand job. The semen shot upward and hit the bottom drawer of Lundy’s desk. Dropping the spent organ like a hot potato Joe extracted his hand saying, “I’ll get you some coffee.”
COFFEE! It’s going to take a lot more than that to get me out of here, the Texas cowboy thought as he pushed his penis back into his pants and began to zip them up.
In the coffee room, LaFiamma debated about filling the cup up with sugar and having Lundy spit it out, or could he just trip over his feet and spill it himself. He decided the latter was safer, and as he walked back to Lundy’s desk he saw just the feet he could trip over.
Joe-Bill’s big feet, as usual, were stretched out into the aisle from the side of his desk. He just didn’t have enough room under his desk to sit comfortably.
LaFiamma walked out of the break room straight for his partner’s desk, calculating each step and which way he would have to turn to spill the coffee into Lundy’s lap. He had purposely taken a cup that someone had poured and left because the last thing he wanted was to burn his partner’s groin.
At this moment, Joe was thankful for the ballet lessons his football coach insisted all players take to make them light on their feet. For the next scene though, it looked like a fall, but was well orchestrated in the Italian’s head.
“SHIT! JOE! LOOK OUT!” Levon barked as Joey’s shoe caught Joe-Bill’s boot.
“WHAT?” Joey yelped as his shoe tapped the heel of a cowboy boot.
Everyone in the room watched a slow motion ballet as Joe twisted, turned and dumped a cup of coffee into his Texas partner’s lap.
Joey’s shoulder hit the floor and he rolled into a sitting position. Suddenly he had three cops and a Lieutenant in his face wanting to know if he was all right.
“I’m fine,” he insisted a dozen times telling them to check out Lundy not him.
-=-=-=-
“Good thing you had a change of clothes down here partner,” Joey said as he watched Levon step out of his wet jeans.
“Just glad you let them check you out for injuries. Gave me a chance to clean up the floor under my desk. What I want to know is … you step over those feet everyday... you never fell before.”
“Who said I fell?” Joe replied with a grin.
Levon’s head shot up. Then he remembered Joey saying his football coach had the whole team take ballet lessons to be lighter on their feet.
“Ballet lessons…?” Levon asked as he stepped into another pair of jeans.
“Yup. That was an orchestrated fall. Had to do something to get you out of there without anyone knowing what happened. Found some cold coffee and the rest was easy.”
“And the ice cream cone? You always stayed at Cindy’s before.”
“Wanted to turn my partner on,” Joey replied his eyes twinkling. “Ended up turning on every damn cop coming on and going off duty. Invited Frankie Mendoza to that orgy you said you wanted to do tonight. Told him to bring chocolate ice cream.”
“You were serious about that orgy… weren’t you?” Joey asked seeing something in his partner’s eyes he hadn’t seen before.
“Thought I might give you all lessons in the seductive nature of ice cream cone eating.”
“Who the hell taught you to eat it like that?” Levon asked as he buckled his belt.
“Uncle Vinnie. The same uncle who taught me how to satisfy a man … you complaining Levon?”
“Hell no! But why Mendoza …wait! He was the guy who volunteered at the Pink Ponies last week.”
“He was. Could have gotten himself killed to. Much better doing it with you and I and Estaban in your barn… don’t you think?”
“I like the way you think LaFiamma. I like the way you think.” Levon answered wagging his finger at his handsome partner.
THE END
2014