Message-ID: <5975eli$9711301031@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/5975.txt> From: beth <mareva@artificial.com> Subject: Joe and Beth: Fast Food Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <199711292310.SAA14941@artificial.com> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright (c) 1997 Joe and Beth. For reproduction permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. Archives will be made available at http://www.artificial.com/~mareva/ This story is copyrighted work. That's right, some people worked hard and slaved over it, and they'll be really pissed if you go and sell it without their permission, or if you repost it without these copyright notices at the beginning and the end. For permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Joe and Beth in Houston It was about sunset, 6:30pm or so as Beth and I left Houston in her rental car. We'd had to attend the wedding of a friend and thought we'd duck out and go to Austin for the weekend to see some old college friends. It wasn't the first time we found ourselves in a car with a decently long drive ahead of us. "Joe, you're driving too fast, you're gonna miss the last Jack In The Box in Houston.", Beth said. I slowed down and got off 290, a craving for french fries tempting me. Or perhaps Beth was craving salt. Either way it wasn't healthy to stay on the highway. It was one of those roads underneath another road, held up by concrete pillars; the kind that turned out not to be so earthquake-proof in that big San Francisco quake a few years back. Right now Jack in the Box sounded like a good sanctuary. I started to pull into a spot in the parking lot until Beth grabbed my arm. "No wait, let's not go inside. I want to play the Drive Through game." I really couldn't say no. It's not that I have an aversion to being a witness to The Game, but it usually meant I ended up squirming in my seat for the next 100 miles, unable to relieve myself. I pulled up to the drive thru speaker, sans clown. The voice of a teenage guy with a poster of Lita Ford on the wall came out of the speaker. "Welcome to Jack In the Box, may I suggest our sourdough special today?" No thanks, I said, but the lady would like to order something, I said as Beth leaned over my lap and stuck her head out the window. "Hi, please take me off the speaker and put on your headset." "Yes, ma'am" I heard a click on the speaker and the kid's voice sounded closer to us in the speaker. "May I take your order now?" "Yes, I'd like to order two of your sourdough specials with two large fries.. How fast can you make that?" "It'll be ready by the time you get to the window ma'am." Beth rubbed her breasts against my shoulder through her tshirt. "Ok, I'm undressing now, and if you can get my food ready, and the food of the three cars in line in front of us ready before I finish masturbating, I'll hold off dressing until after we pull up." "Yes ma'am." the kid said, immediately followed by what could only be the heavy breath of someone running towards a a deep fryer. Beth sat back down in her contoured bucket seat and shucked off her sweat pants and pushed her tshirt up over her head and left it hanging on one shoulder. She closed her eyes and smiled while rubbing her fingers over the undersides of her breasts, pushing them up into her chest. I looked forward and saw the first of three cars pull away. Almost immediately I saw the embodiment of our order-taking voice lean out the window and practically throw a tray of drinks and a paper sack into the seat of a Nissan Pathfinder and wave him along, "Go go go!" he shouted while swinging his arm wildly out the drive thru window. "Ohhhh mmmm yes". The words were seeping out of Beth's mouth as she squirmed in her seat. I looked over at Beth's closed eyes. Judging from the occasional grin that crossed her face and the rhythm of her rocking hand, I assumed she was thinking of her last boyfriend Troy. Troy was a nice enough guy but he seemed to like Beth too much for his own good. Every time she looked at him with those hungry bedroom eyes, he beamed back but with just the slightest tinge of weariness. I don't think Beth ever saw it, but I did. I suspected he had probably been masturbating before their dates, in the shower most likely, and had diminished his overall capacity before ever setting foot in our place. Beth's breathing increased, as did the speed of her fingers, rubbing herself in an up-and-down motion that I imagined was Troy's favorite rhythm. "...ah...ah...ah..." Her breath was coming in short, small spurts now. Her hips rotated back and forth on the seat as I began to wish I hadn't worn jeans that day. I reached over and rubbed her breasts, stopping to roll her nipple between my finger and thumb. Her body went stiff when I did that and I noticed her fingers moved faster. She alternately bit her lip and gritted her teeth. She didn't open her eyes, but I imagined her putting Troy's face over mine in her mind and imagining his hands on her breasts. I did a quick mental inventory of the car for something to keep her from biting her tongue. Too bad I'd never dated an epileptic. The second car, with a backseat full of kids, got two big brown bags. The drive thru kid couldn't wait for mom to hand it to the waiting rugrats in the backseat, and just placed the third bag in mom's lap and threw a couple of bills onto her dashboard. She was so mad she pulled her car up fifteen feet or so without counting her change. We pulled up behind the third car. With her free left hand, Beth grabbed my thigh and dug her nails in. I could see the work that was going into her right hand. The tendons on her arm were pronounced and pulsing in time with her ministrations. She was now hurrying, trying not to lose the rhythm she had created in her head. Beth's panting came from deep in her throat as her voice got deeper with each noise. I'd seen this before; she was close enough that I wouldn't bet on the drive thru kids' chances. Just then we were promoted in line; the car in front of us changed their mind about waiting for their food, or perhaps they had just been told that Jack in the Box was out of everything, who knows. I pulled up as Beth's left hand went back between her legs and her first two fingers went inside. Her little gasps of breath had become moans had become flat out loud verbal heaves, and I saw her body lift from the seat into the air a couple of times. Finally over the edge, her shoulders jerked forward twice towards the dashboard and then slammed back into the seat as her spine collapsed inwards. A shudder started at her calves, then moved up to her hips and then her forehead. Her head shook last as if to emphasize the point. I fixated on the smell of french fries and notice the drive thru boy's eyes transfixed to Beth's stomach. He's watching her breathe. It is beautiful, the sight of her stomach rising and falling; we all feel relieved. I set down the food. Beth makes no move to put her clothes back on. In fact her stomach's quit heaving so much. If she doesn't come out of her grinning trance soon, I'm going to break off the rearview mirror and put it under her nose to check for moisture, signs of breathing. "Thank you for choosing Jack In The Box.", the kid says. He's not looking at me though. I doubt he could pick me out of a crowd of angry Samoans, if he had to at this point. I drove away without paying. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright (c) 1997 Joe and Beth. For reproduction permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. Archives will be made available at http://www.artificial.com/~mareva/ This story is copyrighted work. That's right, some people worked hard and slaved over it, and they'll be really pissed if you go and sell it without their permission, or if you repost it without these copyright notices at the beginning and the end. For permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /