This story is the property of the Privateer.  Nothing in it resembles any relationship or people in
reality.  Anyone who shouldn't be viewing this in their area, because of age or local mores,
should stop now and go away.  This story contains sexually graphic material.

Supersized
(mf, hj, prost)

Tommy Jenkins' stomach felt tight, as he waited for a Superburger girl to come
around to his car door.  Despite the joint's common exterior, Tommy had heard
stories about some of these girls at school.  They were stories juicier than
their biggest hamburger, stories about how some Superburger girls serve their
customers.  All for the price of a number 10 meal, supersized.  Actually,
there was no number 10, officially.  That was the point.

 When Tommy had asked for his number 10, there had been a long pause. 
Then a half-dozen giggling girls in Superburger uniforms stumbled from within the
restaurant.  Most of them were cute enough.  There was only one blond, and a
redhead who might be considered slightly on the thick side, but not hard on
eyes.  They appeared to be around his age, somewhere between sixteen and
eighteen.  

He thought he recognized one of the brunettes from school, but he wasn't sure. 
That's when he started getting nervous in the gut.  What if one of these
chicks knew him and spread rumors or took pictures or something?  The rational
corner of his mind counseled against such thoughts, since it would put the
girl at risk of discovery too, and besides, he couldn't back out now.  He
hadn't gotten off for three days now, anticipating this night.  Sure, it was
only a handjob, but it was female contact: that was more than Tommy could
boast in recent weeks.

One of the girls, a pretty brunette with a long ponytail bouncing above her
beltline, ambled up to his car.  She leaned over, placed her hands on the roof
of the car, and smiled at him.  Tommy noticed that her uniform shirt was
unbuttoned at the top, and he could see the two creamy mounds of her hand-
sized breasts spilling out of a white bra.

"Hi, sweetie," she said pleasantly.  "I won the coin toss, so unlock the door
for me, will ya'?"

"S-sure," stammered Tommy.  He pressed the master lock and the passenger door
made a clicking sound.  "Hop on in."

She walked around the front of the car, tracing a finger along the hood.  Her
tight uniform bound her waist and flared out to her hips, which swayed before
him invitingly.  He hadn't noticed before, but she looked slightly athletic: 
lean where it mattered, and curvy where it mattered more.  His heart began to
beat faster.

She pulled the door open and plopped down into the leather passenger seat. 
The girl smelled faintly of cooking grease and bubblegum.  The mixture of
fragrances only heightened his anticipation.  It wasn't everyday that you
could pickup a fast-food whore.  Until now, he corrected himself.

He noticed that she didn't wear a nametag, so he asked her, "What's your
name?"

She looked at him for a moment and then turned away from him.  "What do you
want it to be?"

He was momentarily surprised, but got the idea quickly enough.  He wasn't
supposed to know who she was.  OK.  "Joy," he said.  "Your name is Joy."

"Yeah, Joy it is," she said.  He could tell the name didn't matter anymore
than her life story, so he let it be.  "So what do you say we get out of here? 
We can't do it in front of the restaurant."

Without another word he pulled out of the parking lot and drove to a local
park close to a canal.  It was dusk, and they were in the shade facing a pond. 
No one was around, so he thought it looked safe enough.
"I'll jerk your dick for ten," she said without fuss.  "I'll blow you for
twenty.  No sex."

Swallowing, Tommy pulled out his wallet and removed a twenty-dollar bill. 
"I'll give you twenty for a handjob if you make it real dirty..."

She took the note before he could say another word.  She smiled devilishly at
him.  "You like it dirty, do ya?"

"Make like you're a real horny slut.  Talk dirty, like you mean it."  He felt
more confident now that the transaction had been completed.

"Get those pants off so we can play," she said, and started unbuttoning her
uniform.  He ogled at her breasts as they came free of her bra, and the smile
never left her face.  That was just fine, since his eyes never left her tits
while he removed his pants.  When Tommy was done, he reclined both their seats
slightly, which exposed his raging hardon.

She snuggled up next to him, pressing her tits into his side, and pulled his
right arm around her shoulder.

"Is your cock ready for me, baby?" she said.

"Yeah."

She pressed her soft lips up against his ear, her breath hot against his neck,
and whispered with intensity:  "You want me to spit on it like a filthy whore,
make it wet so I can pump your jizz out, don't you?  Just like a little slut
would?"
  
"Yeah, spit a gob on it.  Rub it in," he said.  His dick throbbed in response
to her words.

She encircled his cock with her smooth finger and gripped it so only the head
plus an inch showed beyond her hand, and spit loudly on it.  Her thumb rose up
and started spreading the spit all over his dickhead, and Tommy moaned.  She
released him and spit again on her cupped hand, then resumed jerking him, her
warm hand firm, and her thumb teasing his dickhole with every stiff stroke. 
"Is that good, baby?  Does it make your cock wanna spit all over my fucking
tits?  I know you wanna come on my tits, you dirty fuck."  She spit on his
cock once, twice more, and now it was slick like wet ice.  A string of drool
ran from his cock to her mouth, and she bit her lower lip like jerking his
tool was the only thing that mattered.  She went on for long minutes, first
fast then slow then fast again, changing strokes, making comments the whole
time that would have made him blush in other situations.  It was the best
handjob he'd ever had, and he wanted it to last, but he was reaching his peak. 
He had no control.  This slut was going to milk him dry.

"Yes," he answered, his back arching in pleasure.  "Stroke it like that."

"Yeah?  You like it when I play with your wet dickhole like that?"  She teased
his dickhead, rubbing her thumb back and forth over it vigorously.  "It makes
you wanna pop, baby?  Come on, honey, blow your wad all over me.  I need it!" 
She jacked him up and down, squeezing and twisting her hand when she got to
his bulbous head.  Her other hand snaked over his stomach and gripped his
balls gently, her fingers working up and down just behind them.  The motion
pressed against his prostate, massaging it, and that was about all he could
manage.

"I'm gonna come, you ... little ... bitch!" he grunted.

"Yeah, shoot your hot load for me.  Make me your come rag.  You know it's what
I want!"         

Suddenly, every muscle in Tommy's pelvis contracted, and his jizz spewed all
over her neck and tits, one, two, three times, in sticky white ropes.  Soon it
dripped from her nipples onto his stomach.  Then a fourth but weaker spurt
dribbled all over her hand, while she continued to milk him slowly. "I want
every drop from your dirty cock.  I love milking it.  I love it." she said.
After a minute or so, she leaned back and pulled a wad of tissue from her
pants.  She used them to clean the both of them off.

"Wow.  You were really backed up," she said cheerfully. When she was finished
wiping her tits down, and cleaning off his dick, she tossed the tissues out of
the window.

"Yeah," he said.  He was still panting slightly.  "That was great."

"Anytime, honey."  She fastened her bra, buttoned up her uniform, and looked
in the shade mirror to make sure she wasn't messed visibly.

A moment later Tommy pulled his pants back on, turned the key in the ignition,
and drove her back to the Superburger.  The place became his favorite burger joint,
even if it was expensive for fast food.