My wife and I have an ice cream company - I make luxurious, rich, full flavored ice cream. We sell our ice cream at open air markets around town.
One evening we were vending at a market until pretty late. It was cold fall weather, and the market was slow, so the manager decided to shut it down.
As we were packing, I was squatting next to a cooler organizing it, when a young girl approached us.
"Are y'all done already?" Asked a voice that didn't suit the child I thought she was. It was deeper, and grown. I looked up to see a grown up face and body on about a three and a half foot tall frame. She had blonde hair pushing it's way out of her red knit hat, and big blue eyes. Her mouth was a perfect fit for her face, and had nice plump lips.
She had an hourglass shape, outlined by her too tight, orange Angora sweater.
She had on black leather pants, and black peep toe heels.
"I came directly from work. A coworker brought some of your ice cream to a party last weekend, and I fell in love with it. It's so rich and creamy. Very decadent. I loved it immediately." She stepped around to be closer to me, and while watching my wife, she leaned in and said, "I would love to meet the maker."
I sat up, and looked her in her big blue eyes. It was like staring into the Caribbean sea. I was mesmerized for a few seconds, and then shone my head and came back to reality.
"I'm the maker. Hi. I'm B. This is my wife. Also B."
"Hi B and his wife B, I'm Jenna," she said, putting her little hand out. I took it, and grasped it. Her whole hand fit in mine.
"You must put a great deal of care into your product. I can taste it. Your ice cream is delicious."
"Thank you."
"Does he put this kind of care into everything he does?"
My wife looked at me, smiling. "Yes. Everything."
A cold wind blew, making Jenna shudder. It was beautiful to see. I didn't even try not to look.
She noticed me looking, and smiled.
"I bet that's wonderful to have around," she said. "It's nice to have people who care about what they're doing."
"... and who..." my wife said, with a smirk.
"I imagine." She stepped as close as she could to me and the cooler without actually standing on me. I had never been so happy to have my personal space invaded. I could smell her perfume.
"I'm a hedonist, you see. I like pleasure for pleasure's sake. I can tell you're one too," she whispered. "Aren't you?"
My wife stepped up and knelt down.
"We're both hedonists. That's why we make ice cream. It's pure hedonism."
She stood up, making sure to push her shoulders back, and breasts out - they strained against her sweater.
"Is it too late to get some?" She smirked at me, and then glanced at my wife. "Ice cream, I mean."
"Yeah! Of course. I never turn a customer away. Hell, I've sold out of the back of my car..."
"...which I'll go get," my wife said. "While you get her order together."
She walked off to get the car. I knew she'd be gone at least twenty minutes, if not longer. I looked up at my customer. She had a vape pen out and was taking a hit. She exhaled a big cloud, and then took another hit.
"Y'know, nicotine deadens the taste buds, right?"
"Oh, I would never use nicotine. This is THC. And it does the opposite."
"Ah. Yes. I'm familiar with it." I sat on the cooler, looking her in the eye. "So, what did you have that you loved so much?"
"Figgy Pudding."
"Oh yeah. That's for the more discerning palette. You really are hedonistic." I stood up and opened the cooler. I shifted goods around a bit, and then looked up at her. "Unfortunately, I'm out of that one. I do have a decadent chocolate, though. It's a Dutch chocolate base, with a dark chocolate ganache running through it, caramel ribbons, and roasted hazelnuts."
"I'll take that."
"What size?"
"The biggest you've got."
I took out the only pint size I had and handed it to her. It was difficult for her to hold it with one hand, so she held it against her body. And leaned over the cooler, looking in.
"What else do you have?"
"Oh, lemon raspberry cheesecake, In Yo' Face Vanilla..."
"What vanilla?"
"In Yo' Face," I said, holding up a pint, and showing her the label. "I steep the vanilla for thirty minutes. And I only use Mexican vanilla beans and extract..."
"It's the best!"
"I love it."
She nodded, licking her lips. "I'll take those two too, to, too two." She smiled at me as I took out the pints and stacked them. "How much?"
"Well, our pints are $15 each, with a buy three for $40 deal."
She set the Chocolate Decadence down and reached around to a back pocket. She had a money clip full of twenties. She slid two out, and returned the money clip.
"Lemme put that in a bag." I fumbled around in our tub of sundries for a bag, found one, and turned to put her pints in the bag. I bent down for the pints, and suddenly was looking directly at her breasts, pushing against her sweater, next to my face. I imagined them naked, with dark areola, and nice, suckable nipples. I wanted to wrap my hands around them and feast.
"Were ya'll about to go home?" she asked in a slow drawl.
I nodded as I packed her ice cream in the bag, and looked her up and down. I must have been drooling bad, because she smiled, and stood up, arching her back. She licked her plump lips slowly.
"I can't wait to get home and indulge in this wickedness," she said, picking up the bag.
I wanted to get down on my knees, take her in my arms, and kiss her plump lips, and hold her little body against mine. I wanted to feel her small hands on my cock. I wanted to manhandle her in ways only possible with a midget.
"Y'know, I'm worried this is gonna melt before I can get home. How long do you think I have?'
"You should be okay within twenty minutes."
"Oh. No, I'm more like forty-five minutes away. To the south."
"We live south, too." I looked her in the eyes. "I hate losing a sale. Maybe we can meet somewhere closer to where we both live?"
After we began comparing landmarks, I realized she lived in my neighborhood. My wife pulled up with the car just then, and we caught her up.
"Since you live so close to us, B can bring it to you when we get home." She was picking up a cooler and putting it in the back of the SUV. Then she turned and looked at Jenna. "Oh. I'm sorry. You may not want us knowing where you live."
"Oh, I've already given him my addie." She took her money clip out again. She twisted at her waist, causing her breasts to strain against her already too tight sweater. When she twisted back she looked at me, my wife, and then back to me. "I don't mind y'all knowing where I live. I feel like we could be friends. We certainly have hedonism in common. That's sure to give us other commonalities, too."
I nodded at her, smiling. "Hedonism is a good start."
My wife leaned down so she was between us, took a hold of our tub of sundries, and looked me in the eye, with a smile on her face."
"I'm pretty tired. But if you two wanted to hang out and get to know each other, that's okay with me."
"Oh!" Jenna beamed. "I like that idea." She looked at her watch, and then to me. "Can you be at my place in an hour? I'm gonna stop and pick up sushi."