Author's note: The following short story is another adventure of the protagonist from my Christmas story, 'The Lollipop' but this is a standalone story.
This short story is intensely smutty, depicting lesbian sex and the use of food in sex acts. Based on the response I received from 'The Lollipop', I feel a responsibility to state that this story is a wild sexual fantasy.
It is never a good idea to insert food items in bodily orifices.
Without further ado, please enjoy the story!
Puanani's Popsicles
Velzyland Beach, or V-land, is everything you might imagine a Hawaiian beach to be. Turquoise waves flirting with coral pink sand, palm trees swaying in the breeze, spreading Kamani trees to sit under to watch the cotton white clouds sail by and the cute surfer boys on their way out to the breakers. Only, today there weren't any cute surfer boys. The waves were lazy, and the summer heat was searing. The beach was a desert today, and I felt a little lonely.
As with every summer, I was here to spend a couple weeks with my parents at the family beach house on the North Shore. We normally live in Seattle, but my parents were born and raised in Hawaii. They're Asians ethnically (my mother is Korean, my father Japanese), but they're kama'ina to the core. Oahu is the homeland, so this is where we go every summer.
I always loved coming to Oahu for the summer. Many happy childhood memories were had here. This summer, however -- my first summer as a college student -- I was having pangs of regrets for deciding to hang out with the folks instead of going on the epic west coast road trip my college friends were currently on. As beautiful as it was here, and as nice as it was to be with family, freshman summer was meant to be wild and free and to do unforgettable things, which, if all the Instagram and Snapchat stories from my friends were any indication, I was completely missing out on.
There were a couple silver linings to being here rather than on that road trip. First was mom's kimchi stew. The second was the very, very cute girl that would make her way up and down V-land every afternoon to sell homemade popsicles from a beat-up, red-and-white Igloo cooler.
For the past few days, like clockwork, I'd hear, just above, the sound of the lapping waves and the rustling palm fronds: "Popsicles! Lilikoi popsicles! Sweet and tart. A real treat for your tastebuds!"
Next, I'd see her trundling up the beach with her cooler, where the waves would wash over her bare feet. She was bronze-skinned and tall and had short-cropped black hair and always wore the same yellow bikini top and a cute yellow miniskirt that would sometimes flutter in the breeze to briefly expose the tops of her heavenly thighs.
I'm still trying to figure out whether I'm into girls or not. Most days, I'm sure that I'm not, but whenever my eyes fell upon her, I couldn't imagine myself being anything else but gay to the bones.
Every time she walked by, she'd give me a cute pearly smile, making my heart flutter, and I would smile back, but that would be all. Nothing else would happen. I'd turn my gaze to the horizon, and she'd continue down the beach, shouting,
"Beat the heat with a lick of a lilikoi popsicle!"
Today, however, was different. Today, for whatever reason (most likely because there was really no one else to sell popsicles to), she trundled over to me.
"Hi there!" she said with a wide white smile. She lowered her sunglasses so I could peer into her dreamy cocoa eyes. "You look like you could do with a nice ice-cold popsicle."
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
She popped open her cooler and pulled out a lemon-drop colored popsicle.
"Delicious. Homemade. Made from lilikoi grown right on the North Shore!"
She extended the popsicle to me. In the heat, it had already grown a glossy sheen.
"Oh, um, that looks good, but sorry, I don't have any cash on me right now."
Her grin grew. "You know what? You look too dang hot right now, so this one's on me. Can't have a haole melt all over this beach. Would be tough to get the stains out the sand, you know?"
My toes curled up, and my cheeks grew hot.
"Ok, I'll take one. But I'm not a haole."
I took the popsicle from her and gave it a lick. It was a wonderfully tartful explosion of flavor.
"Not a haole, huh?" she said with a chuckle.
"Yup," I replied coolly, giving the popsicle another lick. Some of it dripped onto my wrist, so I licked that up too while she watched me. It made my heart patter to have her watch me licking the popsicle.
"If you're local, then how come I haven't seen you around?"
"Well. Kinda local. My parents are from here. And we have a house on the back street. I come here every summer," I explained.
Her face lit up. "Oh, I remember you!"
"You do?"
She sat her cooler down on the sand and put her hands on her hips. "You're the haole girl that's always hanging out by yourself. You know I always kinda felt so bad for you. But, um, yeah, I guess folks here are not too welcoming, huh?"
She stuck out her hand. "Uh, better late than never, yeah? I'm Puanani."
I shook her hand and replied, "Rosalind. Or Roz for short. And I'm not a haole! I'm hapa. And my parents are islanders."
"That don't make you kama'ina. You're hapa sure, but you're also haole all the way. You're hapa haole. But don't take that as an insult. Hapa haole are cute, you know? Anyways, it's nice to finally meet you. Do you mind if I sit with you?"
"I guess you can join," I replied, a little peeved at her assertion that I was still an outsider despite my creds. I took a grumpy lick of the popsicle and said, "but those popsicles won't sell themselves."
Puanani shrugged, sat in the sand beside me, and took another popsicle out of her cooler.
"Look around you. No one around here to sell them to anyway."
I looked to my left and right and saw that she was right. A couple walked along the water's edge, but beside that, not a soul.
"Too hot out today. Even for the locals." Puanani sighed as she popped her popsicle into her mouth, giving it a good suck.
"Well, the popsicle is tasty," I said, trying my best to not feel affected by the way her cheeks pulled inward when she sucked.
"Yeah? You really think so? Thanks! I make 'em myself."
"So, what's lilikoi?"
"Passion fruit."
"Oh, right. I think I knew that. Yeah, it does taste like passion fruit."
She snickered. "Of course, they do. They're made of real passion fruit silly. Family's got a farm on the other side of Haleiwa."
"That's awesome."
My popsicle was starting to become a little too unmanageably drippy. Sticky passion fruit juice started to run down my hand to drip onto my belly.
"You gotta eat it fast," Puanani said seeing my messiness.
"Yeah, no kidding," I said.
