She had the sweetest voice. Cheerful and friendly; not the kind that’s drilled into you by managers, but sincere sounding. It’s hard to tell by a voice, but I guessed her to be young, probably college age, since the university was just down the street.
“Fries, please. And a Diet Pepsi.”
I smiled as she repeated it back, putting a little pop into the ‘p’s.
“Will there be anything else?” she asked, her voice not losing any of its allure despite issuing from the metal box just left of the menu board.
A kiss, I mused, but left the thought unspoken.
“Just that,” instead, unable to resist a hint of bedroom seduction in my words, just enough to make me smile, sure that it would go unnoticed as I drove slowly up to the window.
And yes, I’d guessed right. About twenty, perhaps, or close. Pretty as well. Brunette, her hair pulled back, her bangs cut evenly. Lovely cheekbones defined her face and her unadorned lips were full. The kind of lips that begged to be kissed. Her smile was lovely, again, not an affectation, not unless she was able to fake the charming sparkle in her dark eyes as well.
“Would you like ketchup with that?” she asked, leaning slightly out the drive-thru window to hand me my drink and a bag, just enough to draw my gaze to a pair of breasts that were as close to perfect as you could get and still be natural. It was impossible not to notice the strain they put on the buttons of her uniform blouse.
“No, thanks,” I smiled, trying my best not to acknowledge the slight thrill that sizzled through me as our hands briefly touched, my diet soda poised between us.
“Have a great evening,” she smiled, seemingly oblivious to the desire that the mere brush of fingers stirred up in me. So charmingly naïve. Thoughts of seduction teased the corners of my brain as I drove off, absently plucking a fry from the bag and nibbling on it as if it were one of her nipples.
oOo
“Fries and a Diet Pepsi, please.”
I smiled in anticipation of her voice, delighted as she once again popped her ‘p’s. I couldn’t help but picture the shape of her lips as I did a quick check in the rearview mirror, taking a moment to undo one more button than I’d thought prudent earlier. Just enough so that she could get a glimpse, not only of my cleavage, but of the pastel pink checkered bra I’d put on just for her. It was, in my opinion, more cute than sexy, but then, that best described me as well.
“No ketchup, right?”
I smiled, nodding, my breath hitching just the tiniest bit at her obvious recognition. I couldn’t help but wonder if she remembered for a reason, or simply had a good memory for faces.
“Right,” I managed, taking my drink from her hand, once again getting a tiny thrill as it changed owners, fingers brushing for a split second, pulling my attention from her lovely breasts to her face, trying to fathom something from her gaze, but coming up empty.
“Have a nice evening,” she wished, sending me on my way, once again, my thoughts less than appropriate, my cheeks coloring a little at just how inappropriate they were.
oOo
“Fries, a Diet Pepsi, hold the ketchup,” she said, a hint of laughter in her voice, her smile as bright as always as she handed over my order. I began to think of these late evening meetings at the drive-thru window as a clandestine date so secretive that not even she knew about it. It was a lovely fantasy, but nothing more than that.
“Have a lovely evening,” she told me, sending me off with a playful wink that robbed me of the power of speech for a brief moment.
“You too,” I finally managed, my cheeks warm even with the cool wind blowing through my still open window to cool them.
I am not proud of it, but as soon as I got home I began a new ritual, one tied to my daily fast food run; I propped myself up on my pillows, unzipped my jeans, and slid my hand into my panties, unsurprised at how wet they’d become. After all, I’d been fantasizing about what I wanted to do to her, or what I wanted her to do to me, for the past five miles. My orgasm was intense, leaving me shaking and too rubber-legged to stand without using my nightstand as a prop. Our ‘affair’ had just moved to a new level. When I was able to breathe normally again, I realized that it would be impossible not to call up this episode every time I heard her voice issuing from the speaker.
I closed my eyes, imagining her popping her ‘p’s with her lips pursed around my clit. It was almost enough to make me come again. Closing my eyes, I simply moaned, falling back on the bed, hands covering my face, wondering if I would be able to face her again.
oOo
“Fries and a Diet Pepsi.”
My breath caught, my hand trying to sneak its way between my legs as my thighs suddenly took charge and, despite my best efforts, spread enough so that I could reach between them, the image of her sucking on my budding clit filling my thoughts with such intensity that it took me a minute to realize that I’d been parked at the speaker box longer than necessary. Trying to pull myself together, I pulled ahead with a jerk, stopping the car suddenly at the window, sheepishly smiling in response to her chuckle.
“Daydreaming?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, trying not to blush, suddenly aware that I could smell my own arousal, hoping it didn’t leave the confines of my car.
“Fries, no ketchup, and one Diet Pepsi,” she announced cheerfully, handing over my meal, her breasts straining against the blouse of her uniform, fingers coming in contact with mine, this time for longer than was necessary, or so I imagined. Swallowing, I thanked her, a little sigh slipping out at her farewell.
“Have a lovely evening!”
Yeah, I thought, knowing exactly how I was going to spend it once I got home. This time, in fact, I didn’t even make it home before I had my hand in my panties, fingers rubbing against my puffy lips, already slick with arousal. I didn’t even make it to the bedroom, falling to my knees the second the front door slammed shut behind me so I could finish myself off with a gasping cry of pleasure. God, I was hooked, and I knew it. I only wish there was some way of telling her, but it was out of the question. Still, it was such a visceral fantasy, one that didn’t have to end as long as I didn’t want it to. That night I dreamed of her, naked as she straddled my face, my tongue pushing between her folds, her weight pressing against my face, forcing me deeper into her dripping wet pussy...
I awoke suddenly, furiously rubbing my overheated snatch, on the verge of yet another mind-blowing climax, one that curled my toes and left me gasping for breath as I clutched my pillow with one hand so hard that I thought it would burst in my grip.
oOo
Of course, there were those days when someone else’s voice greeted me, leaving me saddled with disappointment and longing for the sensuality of ‘p’s popping and the erotic prose of ‘have a nice delightful wonderful lovely evening'. Those days I would simply go home, nibble a few fries halfheartedly before tossing them and try to drown my displeasure out with an orgasm or two, not that they were anything like the ones that she gave me.
Yes, I know exactly how obsessive that sounds, but obsession was really what it had become. I’d be lying to myself to say otherwise. God, if she ever took an actual vacation, I thought, or worse, if she quit or was fired, what would I do? That made me get ahold of myself. I couldn’t help but chuckle. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. Plus, think of all the money I’d save and the calories I’d cut out of my diet. There’s always a silver lining; sometimes you just have to look a little harder for it.
oOo
“Ketchup for your fries,” she said with a cheeky smile, dropping two red plastic packages into my bag. I gave her a puzzled look, but said nothing, merely smiling as she sent me off with her usual goodbye. Not that I stopped thinking about the change in our ritual all the way home. This time, instead of dropping my food on the counter and rushing off to the bedroom to get myself off, I paused, examining the contents of the bag. Fries, two packages of ketchup, and a receipt with something scrawled across the back.
Wear a skirt tomorrow.
I moaned softly, leaning against the counter, my eyes closed in blissful ecstasy as I pushed my hand into my jeans and ground my fingers against my clit, coming quickly with a silent cry before sliding down to the floor, my head cradled in my arms as I rocked back and forth, my cunt soaking through my panties and my jeans, finger turning to fists as I felt it trickling over my puckered asshole, imagining those words in her sweet, sincere, sensual voice.
oOo
Nervously, I ordered my usual, trying to detect something, anything different, in her voice as she read it back to me, popping her ‘p’s just like always.
I was wearing a skirt, one that had been carefully chosen after much deliberation. Teasingly short and pleated. I was thankful that I was still young enough to carry it off and had the legs for it as well.
“Ketchup with your fries?” she asked, drawing my attention away from her straining breasts to the smirk of her smile, noticing that her gaze was focused as she leaned slightly forward from her window, her smile broadening as she got a good look at my thighs under the hem of my skirt.
“Yes, please?” I answered, hoping that was the response she was looking for. Apparently it was, for she dropped the packets into my bag with a bit of a flourish, handing it to me through the window, her lips pursing thoughtfully, before uttering her trademark goodbye.
“Have a wonderful evening.”
“I will, thank you. You too,” I managed.
This time, I didn’t even make it out of the car. This time I climaxed sitting behind the wheel, my car parked in the drive, the hem of my skirt pulled up around my waist, my panties pushed to one side as I finger fucked myself to a mind-numbing orgasm, not even caring if any of the neighbors took notice of my ecstatic cries. It was several moments before I could manage to climb out of the car and make my way inside, my thighs still trembling, as I sank to the floor in the entryway, fingers shaking as I pulled the receipt from the bag, the fries forgotten in my lust.
Skirt. No panties. Show me.
oOo
“Please drive up to the window,” she announced as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Show me. I repeated the words silently as I pulled up, forced to look slightly up at her, noting how perfect her vantage point was.
“Ketchup?” she asked, but from the way she smirked, her brows forming questions, I knew that wasn’t all she was asking. I could, of course, just take my meal and drive off, but something told me that, if I did, our little game was over, and I didn’t want it to end. I wanted – needed – to find out how far she was willing to take it, to be honest. Feeling my face heat up under her subtle scrutiny, I slowly pulled the hem of my skirt up my thighs until she had a good view of my naked, obviously drenched, pussy. I was so wet, in fact, that I could feel my arousal pooling under my bare ass.
Humiliation burned in my cheeks. I shook, my heart pounding against my ribs. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath until I started feeling a little light-headed. That’s when she nodded and dropped a pair of red packets in with my meal as well as the receipt.
“Have a beautiful day,” she said with a smile, licking her lips slowly as I drove slowly off, my skirt still raised, my pussy exposed. This time I didn’t even make it home. This time I played with myself at every red light, unable to keep from an earth-shattering orgasm half a block from my apartment. Not the first of the night, either, but certainly the best.
And, once again, she’d left me a note, short and sweet and to the point.
I want to watch you cum.
oOo
I’d never done anything like this before. I hadn’t even considered the possibility and yet, there I was, pulling up to the drive-thru, wearing a one-size-too-small cotton top, my stiff and swollen nipples clearly outlined as they strained at the thin material and a criminally short skirt and not a stitch of underwear. I’d thought about this a lot during the day, perhaps too much, leaving me distracted and anxious, as well as incredibly turned on. I’d have to time this right. I couldn’t just pull up and start playing with myself. I had to be ready to cum for her as soon as I stopped the car. In other words, I had to push myself to the very edge before I even got there.
It wasn’t hard. Just the thought of what I was going to do was enough to get my pulse racing, quicken my breath, and leave me trembling with lust. At every red light, I reached between my legs and played with myself, not caring who might be looking in or what they might suspect. I only focused on one thing; the thought of her watching me as I came for her. It didn’t take me long before my pussy was soaking wet, as were my fingers and the steering wheel where I gripped it when I didn’t have my fingers pushed between my lips as I rocked my hips back and forth in preparation to be humiliated in front of a girl whose name I didn’t even know.
“Can I take your order, please?” It was too late to turn around and go home now. I was committed. It was the most wonderful feeling.
“Fries and a Diet Pepsi,” I managed, my voice shaking as I came close to losing control.
I heard it in her voice as she repeated my order back. She knew that it was me and that my evening snack was just an excuse.
“Drive up to the window,” she told me, her sweet voice suddenly thick with lust. It was good to know that at least I had some effect on her.
I had to time it just right. I wouldn’t have more than a minute. I stopped the car alongside the sliding glass window, looking up so that our gazes met, watching as her lips formed a single word; ‘now’.
It was all I needed to push me over the edge. With a muffled moan of unimaginable bliss, I leaned back in my seat, pulled my skirt up so that she could watch as I finger fucked my hot dripping snatch and plunged into a maelstrom of unimaginable ecstasy for her benefit, my eyes never leaving her face.
She watched, licking her lips, her eyes bright with a hunger that nearly matched what I felt. How she managed not to betray our illicit and intimate exchange I'll never know.
“Would you like ketchup?” she asked the moment I was done, handing me my soda. This time, when I took it with still shaking hands, she stroked my fingers as they curled around the cup, collecting my slick cum on her fingertips, smiling slyly as she covertly painted her lips with it and then ran her tongue over them once more, tasting my juices as I watched while trying not to hyperventilate.
“Yes, please,” I whispered huskily, barely registering that my skirt was still up, exposing my obscenely parted lips, glistening with the tell-tale signs of my depravity.
She dropped a couple of packets into the bag and handed it through the window. I could see her nipples poking through her uniform, despite the bra she was wearing. I wondered if she was wet, or rather, how wet she was. Was she wearing panties? Were they as soaked as mine would have been if our places had been reversed? What else had she dropped into the bag with my fries?
“Have a delightful evening,” she purred, once again licking her lips, igniting the memory of my juices transferred to her fingertips.
I drove away, not trusting myself to peek inside the bag until I was back home, safely ensconced in the privacy of my bedroom, moaning with lust as I pulled out the handwritten note she’d left me, my fingers already furiously rubbing my clit before I’d even had a chance to read the simple note, followed by a phone number.
Next time it’s my turn.
