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He delights in telling people that your date night plans will involve eating out. To an outsider, the glimmer in his eyes and the upward curve of his lips could easily be mistaken as young love yearning for a romantic dinner. But you know better. You know that his eyes sparkle with mischief, and his lips are losing the battle to contain a smirk. Because whenever Eddie plays this game, it always leads to a very specific type of encounter – a romp in the parking lot of a fast food chain.
It quickly became one of Eddie’s go-to moves for when you needed privacy and neither of your homes was an option. Something about the rush of being in public and within close proximity to a post-sex snack was appealing to him. It had started off as an occasional indulgence, but with Wayne’s work schedule changing, time alone in the trailer was a rarity. Now, you find yourself being fucked in restaurant parking lots multiple times a week. It has had an interesting, Pavlovian effect on Eddie. Lately, you’ve noticed how he becomes unrestrained in his affections whenever you both stop for an innocent meal together.
Tonight is one of those instances. Eddie insisted on stopping at Taco Bell before returning to his trailer for a movie night, loudly complaining of hunger. So now you find yourself sitting in the crowded drive-thru lane awaiting your turn. You notice a restlessness overcome Eddie as you wait. His knee is bouncing, and his arm is stretched across the center console rubbing your thigh. He mutters a quick “fuck it”, before checking the mirrors and diverting the van out of its place in line.
“What are you doing? I thought you said you were hungry,” you ask.
“I am hungry, but I’m craving a different type of taco right now.”
You can’t stop the laughter that escapes your lips at your boyfriend’s response. He’s so frantic in his desire that he can’t be bothered to park properly, instead leaving his van splayed haphazardly across multiple spaces. As soon as the engine is cut off, he moves you from the front seat to your new seat atop his face.
The back of Eddie’s van is dark, with only the flickering glow of streetlights offering the faintest visibility. You can barely make out Eddie’s face as he savors your cunt. His ringed fingers have a bruising hold on your thighs as his tongue laps at your heat, teasing your entrance to elicit sweet moans from your lips. Your hands shakily grasp at the van’s interior in a desperate attempt to find purchase anywhere as your body quivers, thighs trembling on either side of Eddie’s head. Every breathy cry, gasp, and whimper fogs the windows, further concealing you from any prying eyes.
The headlights from a car approaching the drive-thru lane illuminate the cabin, momentarily interrupting your haze of desire to remind you that you’re in public. Any passerby would be able to accurately decipher what’s happening by looking at the sloppy park job and fogged windows or by overhearing the muffled moans. The thought is tantalizing, and the thrill of potentially getting caught bolsters your desire. You look down to find that the added light has cut through the shadows and gifted you with the sight of Eddie’s ravenous expression beneath you.
Your body reacts automatically, rocking your hips to ride his face with lust-induced fervor. Eddie’s moans add a delicious humming sensation against your pussy as you chase your pleasure. His nose grazes your clit with every roll of your body, and you can’t help but mewl pathetically. Your orgasm shatters you and sets your senses aflame. You cum screaming Eddie’s name, and you blindly reach down to place your hands atop his to show your affection for him.
You feel boneless as you come down from your high, and Eddie laughs as he guides your wobbly-legged self back to the front seat. He rolls down the windows to offer the relief of cool autumn air on your damp skin. After a moment, he starts the van up and promptly returns to the drive-thru lane.
“I just ate, and now it’s time to get my girl something,” he quips playfully. You chuckle at him as he peruses the menu, and he leans out the window to speak the order into the microphone. “Yeah, hi. We’ll get a chicken quesadilla and a cuntwrap supreme."
“Eddie!” you admonish, barely able to hide your own amusement.
“Shit, sorry. I mean crunchwrap supreme,” he ruefully corrects before proceeding to the next window. He exchanges pleasantries with the employee, pays for your meal, and awaits the order. He turns to hand you the receipt, and that’s when you see it - the sheen of your arousal across his lower face. You have no doubt in your mind that the employee also probably saw it. Your mortified look sends him checking the rearview mirror, and a roguish look overtakes his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m always messy when I eat.”