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.