“Just pull over there!”
It was a McDonald’s. A McCafé, fine, but despite the fancy new façade , he could not see the point of stopping beneath the golden arches, even for ice cream on a hot day. Truth be told, she wasn’t even sure the stuff in their cones really was ice cream, and she was well aware of the line snaking around the parking lot and out into the street.
“Over here,” she pointed, and he obediently pulled in behind a gold minivan. An SUV pulled up quickly in back of then. They were stuck.
“I hope you are satisfied,” he said to her, glancing at his watch, and the sky, and the line of cars in front of them. She quickly pushed her hand into his crotch.
“Hardly satisfied,” she said, and felt his cock inflate quickly into her hot hands. He looked out the window at a couple walking by into the restaurant, looked at her, and pushed her hand away.
“No, not here.”
The ever-growing bulge in his pants begged to differ, so she put her hand back and listened until his voice acquiesced.
Her own crotch ached now as she turned, moved her other hand onto his pants. The car lurched forward once, then again. She pulled his belt tight, then let it unfasten quickly, the button to his jeans, the zipper as he watched the traffic, and Ronald McDonald, and the voices not so far ahead now.
She quickly opened his pants and turned to kneel on the floorboard in one quick if awkward movement, her face now hidden in his lap, her arms pulling themselves from her long sweater, the sweater now covering his lap and her head, and she heard him moan gently as she licked his smooth cock, the intoxicating raw smell of it, his cock and nothing more. She felt the car move once more.
“May I take your order?”
“Yes, we’ll.. I’ll have a cone. Two cones. Swirl.” He got the words out just as she took his cock greedily between her moist lips, then peeked from underneath the sweater to see him close his eyes as he throbbed deep in her throat.
“We cannot do swirls tonight, sir. We only have vanilla.”
“Only vanilla. That’s fine. Whatever you have.”
“$1.98, sir. First window.”
She felt him pull the car out of park, and she pulled away from his cock, away, and then let him slide it back into her mouth farther, farther, as he slowly accelerated. The car braked suddenly. He moaned loudly, pushed at her head. Stop. Stop.
“No!” she said loudly, startling even herself at the force of her words, and he looked down at her, seemed stunned as her wet hot mouth enveloped his cock once more.
He covered her once more with the sweater, then fumbled in the change drawer for enough quarters to avoid the search for his wallet as he pulled up.
“Two cents is your change, sir. Next window.”
His cock grew even harder in her mouth now as he wiggled in his seat, trying to find some relief in spite of his need to come as she sucked him, as she let her tongue tickle at just the spot she knew would soon make him lose control. She sucked hard, then stopped as he reached for the cones. He grabbed them quickly, handed one to her. She held it out, like a beacon, as he turned into a parking space near the trees. He let his seat recline as the ice cream dripped in her hair, as he pushed her head down, as he thrust his cock deeper into her mouth once, shouting, twice, exploding, vanilla ice cream dripping down from her hair to her neck, his heat dripping down her throat. He panted, now softer but still thrashing like a spent garden hose, her face flush, wet, licking ice cream and kissing him with that come and sweet mixture now in his mouth, too, her gleeful smile beaming back then as he held his dripping cone and brushed back the sweat from his own forehead and looked at the cone, then at her, then licked at it before it all melted.
They finished their cones there, in the parking lot, then licked fingers, zipped pants, sat like proper people once more, and exited the busy drive-through.
She glanced out the window now at the sky, pink and orange in the early evening. She glanced at him, at his jeans and the wet spot, the drips of ice cream that would soon fade. She glanced at his hands, and at his eyes, which creased now as he laughed at her, and she shifted on her seat, her legs sticking to the leather, her panties clinging, rubbing against her own yet unfulfilled lust. She glanced again at the darkening sky, the street lights, the road leading not to the cinema as they had planned, but a left turn.. a u-turn. He reached for her hand. She sighed. And they drove back toward the sky. Back to her home. Back to the hours. Back to have it her way.