Would You Like Ketchup With That? - Sex Stories

Would You Like Ketchup With That?

... material and a criminally short skirt and not a stich 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 raising, 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 ...