Work Text:
The way Taylor Townsend eats soft serve ice cream from a cone is totally indecent. Her tongue laps away at the base of the quickly melting treat until she gets to the top and purses her lips around the tip, sucking a fair bit into her hot, cherry colored mouth before she pulls back slowly and licks her lips; top first, then bottom. It doesn’t help that it’s vanilla. Then it’s back to quick, kitten-like licks at the base. And when she’s almost done, she shoves the whole thing into her mouth until barely a quarter inch of the cone is left sticking out between her lips. Ryan closes his eyes and counts to ten, trying hard not to think about what else she could be sucking like that and failing miserably at hiding the rock solid length of his involuntary hard-on that’s creating a noticeable bulge in his shabby, ten dollar pair of jeans. But the worst part is when she looks up at him from across the boardwalk, and he knows that she knows that he’s thinking about what else she could be sucking like that. That is, until Taylor gets up and starts to walk towards him.