"Every Lollipop Loves A Licking" Jake and I had an arrangement. Whenever the pressure got to be too much for us we would call and leave a message on the other's answering machine or email. A code phrase, sort of, buried in an otherwise innocuous message about nieces or nephews or movie schedules. It wasn't that we had a list of such phrases, we made them up each time. A sort of a game where the one getting the message had to figure out what the phrase meant; always something sexual and usually a code giving time and place. Sort of like making a date with the Riddler. We go back a long time, Jake and I, back to high school when he played sports and I bounced around in short skirts yelling for him. Guess everybody thought we would eventually get married, including us. But in college we each found someone else; life is like that. Still, at times we missed each other a lot and what we had when we were young and free. It wasn't that we didn't love our mates. Dorothy and Bryan were good sports about this and I often got help from Dorothy when Jake left a really tough one or I wanted to send him one that would baffle and intrigue. Jake and I both carry beepers because of our jobs and the gag was to send a telephone number followed by "6969" near enough to the meeting time that our trysts would not be missed. Whoever had to wait for the beep and phone call had to pay a forfeit, like pay for dinner after the rendezvous. Or something. The message I got that I remember best was on my email at the office one day. "Ruth. Got to run to a meeting, managers need their strokes, y'know. Probably boring. Every Lollipop Loves A Licking. Hope I can see you later, Jake." Three o'clock I thought immediately; and if I have to explain that you would just never be able to play this game. But where? And what? I felt the excitement begin. I had been bored, showing condos to yuppie dincs had lost its appeal after two weeks of no sale. Quickly I checked my calendar, a short call to pass off my prospects to another broker and I had freed up the afternoon. I might miss a sale but I'd get the referral fee and I wasn't going to miss Jake! I licked my lips and then checked my makeup. The clock said 10:15, I had time to run home and change. My nipples were already crinkling as I headed toward the BART station. Licking lollipops? Cunnilingus in a candy store? Too obvious, but it made me squirm. I grinned at the lady in the seat facing me who may have thought I had worms from her expression. Alameda Station and a short bus ride to the apartment. Dorothy wasn't home, up at the gallery in Berkeley, no doubt. I stripped off the Realtor Chic and hopped into the shower. I lathered up my short blonde hair and rinsed quickly, then spent a little bit longer on the rest of me. "Every Lollipop Loves A Licking." What could it mean? I soaped my arms, my face, my neck. My breasts demanded that I linger on them; the nipples were already hard as the warm soapy water ran down them. I bent my head and held my breast up so I could lick my own lollipop. The soapy taste seemed pleasantly clean and I licked the other one so it wouldn't feel neglected. I shivered a little and moved my hand down to explore my pussy. There's a lollipop down there, too, but I can't reach it to lick it myself; I know, I've tried. Jake had practically promised to lick me there with his little clue. I hummed a bit as I fingered myself with my left hand and rubbed my right across my face. I kissed the back of my hand as my fingers found the familiar little nubbin, half hidden. I nibbled my knuckles. I also avoided touching my clit directly, usually too intense for me. Instead I played with two fingers inside me, sort of like the feel of Jake inside me. Dorothy doesn't understand my need to feel penetrated sometimes but she humors me and I thought of retrieving one of the toys we use for such occasions. Just the thought turned the heat up, tightening the muscles in my back, my legs, inside me. I stood, water pouring over my back and down my thighs, my right hand moving between lips and tongue and breasts while my left brought me to climax and again to moaning climax. I smiled while I rinsed myself with the shower hose, and rinsed again because that felt good, too; a quivery little afterquake of an orgasm. I smiled, too, because I remembered the last time Jake had dined at Chez Ruth. "Umm," he'd said, "I see that Dorothy is using a new shade of lipstick." My laughter had turned to gasps when he claimed to be checking for flavor. As if my Dot would ever wear lipstick let alone any candy flavors. She'd laughed, too, when I'd told her about it later. "He's such a dork," she'd said fondly. "That's what I like about him," I said and we both laughed. "Every Lollipop Loves A Licking." Jake had a "lollipop" too and I'm sure he planned on me giving it a lick or seven. A big, thick, meaty lolly with a cream filling. I snickered while I dried and fluffed my hair. I squirmed a bit, too. The last time Jake and I had played this little game his lolly had ended up in my ass. "Don't you get enough of that at home," I'd teased. A spritz of scent. Front-closing, or rather, front-opening bra. Garter belt and patterned hose. Jake loved me to wear this kind of stuff; Dorothy couldn't care less. I debated wearing panties and decided to do so; favoring the pleasure of unwrapping the toy over the thrill of being naughty in public. I could wear a shorter skirt, too. I picked a simple black dress with a self-belt, my black heels and a small bag with necessary supplies, including a tampon to sop up messy things for after. Another quick check of my makeup. Then a final change of bag to include the other sex toy I was bringing to this rendezvous. A black latex payback that the shop owner had assured me was the most popular size "down on Castro Street." Much bigger than the little toys Dorothy and I used infrequently. It seemed enormous; fucking enormous, so to speak. I had to change to a bigger handbag to keep the damn thing from making obvious bulges. I tried to imagine ramming it into Jake's ass. I did imagine Jake doing my pussy with it then my ass. I squeezed my thighs together on that thought. I almost changed my mind and left it home. Then the image of Jake's ass and my ass triggered an association and I knew where the rendezvous must be! Three blocks in heels is like a mile in flats. I could have worn sneaks and changed later but I didn't want to carry an even bigger handbag or have to stop at the office. Catch the bus to the BART, then ride under the Bay. I was going to have a little time to kill so I decided to have a light lunch. Avoiding the touristy places, I had salad and a broiled chicken breast and caught up on the news at a little bistro off Market Street. Still with plenty of time, I got to Ghirardelli Square, an old candy factory converted to a shopping and office mall, just as the fifteen minute warning beep arrived. Scouting around, I located Jake exactly where I thought he'd be. Upstairs over the Leather Emporium, waiting at a phone booth next to a medical office: Doctors Paul French, Urology; Oscar Cervantes, OB-GYN, and Alfred Licking, Proctology. I had won this round and I squealed with delight, "Every Lollipop Loves A. Licking!" I'm sure I must have attracted some attention from the shoppers. I didn't care. Probably no one but me would have gotten the clue but that was part of the charm of the game. Jake turned toward me, smiling. He wore his black silk shirt and the leather pants that Bryan had bought him for Christmas, just downstairs in the Leather Emporium. Then I saw what he held in his hand. Something he may have bought downstairs, a new leather belt. "Licking" had more than one meaning, I remembered. As I slipped my arm through his, I whispered, "You'd better have bought that belt for me, Lollipop." I smiled and opened my bag to show him the toy I'd brought. He laughed and all my lollies tingled in anticipation. I shivered all over as he whispered back,