Lollipop

She starts humming, then the tune turns into a low, lazy song. The melody lingers while she sits back on the couch, legs spread, panties already on the floor. In one hand she holds a pink lollipop, round and glossy. In the other she cups her left breast, thumb flicking across the nipple until it tightens. Her eyes stay on the candy. She runs the sticky sphere over the same nipple, leaving a faint sugary trail, then brings it to her mouth and sucks it clean with slow, wet pulls. When the lollipop is slick again she lowers it between her thighs. She drags the smooth head along her slit, parting the soft folds without pushing in. Her hips tilt, chasing the cool touch. A quick circle over her clit makes her breath catch, so she repeats it, slower, letting the sugar melt against warm skin. Juice mixes with saliva; the candy glistens. She lifts one knee onto the cushion, opening herself wider. The motion lifts her ass, round and firm, the cheeks parting just enough to show everything. She keeps the lollipop moving, sliding it up and down, pressing just enough to feel resistance, then easing off. Every few strokes she pauses, licks the candy, tastes herself on it, then returns it to her pussy with unhurried care. Her free hand slips lower. Two fingers spread her lips while the lollipop traces small, sticky loops around her entrance. The motion grows firmer. She rocks against it, chasing friction, until her stomach tightens and her toes curl into the cushion. A soft sound escapes her, half moan, half the next line of the song. She keeps going until the candy is nearly gone, the stick clicking gently against her teeth each time she tastes it again.