Return-Path: richh@netcom.com Newsgroups: alt.butt.harp,sltt.sex.stories,alt.sexhibitionism From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: YOU WANT FRIES WITH THAT? Message-ID: Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Date: Wed, 11 May 1994 22:53:53 GMT Disclaimer: The following story contains naughty bits. If you are under 18, or if this has somehow wandered onto the K12 net, STOP READING NOW. Do not, I repeat, do not email it to all your friends. And for God's sake do not make a printout of it and distribute copies all over your school. I mean sure, it'll be cool and all, and you'll probably have lots of new friends, and you'll probably even get lots of dates which will lead to numerous nights of hot, sticky backseat passion, but like, you could get in big trouble. Cause I know a kid who did it and sure, it was cool for awhile, but all the new friends he made weren't like *real* friends. Plus like, it's all fully and legally copyrighted and if you think you're so tough now, let's see how you feel after a few months in the joint sharing a cell with a disgruntled former Kinko's employee with something to prove. Copyright prison--you wouldn't last a day. SPECIAL *WHAT*??!! After the harp episode, Molly and I began to see each other more and more. She really was quite the exhibitionist, and loved nothing more than doing it with her door open a crack, or by the window, or best of all, in public. Earlier that year, her sorority had compiled some kind of scoring system for the various places the sisters might have sex in(For example, the Sigma Chi pool was worth one point[too easy] while the Straight Reading Room in the undergrad library was somewhere around 50). Molly was extremely inventive and would sometimes call at four in the morning and say nothing more than "statue of Ezra Cornell in 20", or "Bell Tower. I got a key. Hurry." After the summer session ended there was a gap of a week or so until the fall term. I had to pick up some stuff at my house so I replaced a flat on my '72 Duster and Molly came back with me. It was a four-hour drive or so and we had no radio so Molly put her feet up on the dash and amused herself as we drove, ignoring the truckers who honked their horns as I passed. About an hour from Philly, Molly took off her skirt altogether, laid it in her lap, pulled a tiny scissors out of her purse, and starting cutting into it. "What are you doing?" "Oh, nothing. How much longer?" "An hour." "Let's stop and get something to eat before we hit your house, okay?" "There's a Mc'Donald's..." "Perfect." "Drive-thru?" "Nah. I want to get out of the car. All sticky in here." No comment. We'd started out way early, and the McDonald's we pulled into had just opened for the day. "You gonna get dressed?" She pulled her skirt back on, then arched up and slid off her panties and put them in the glove. "Look," she said, "there's a slit on each hip, and one in back. She moved around to show me and I slid in my right hand to test. "Ok, how many points is a McDonald's worth?" "In the bathroom, 10. At a table, 100. In line it's off the chart." It was clear which one she was going for. "How much money do you have?" "I pulled a hundred out of the machine last night." She opened up the wallet in her bag. "Cool, I got fifty. Ready?" she asked, and slid a hand up my jeans leg. "Yup, let's go." Inside, the place was near-empty, except for the three, acne- marked high school guys and the two girls behind the counter. The guys stopped what they were doing and came around to check out Molly. She walked up to the register on the far right and said, "We've got a pretty big order, okay?" "Uh, sure." "25 Egg McMuffins, 25 Bacon egg and cheese, no bacon on 12 of them, ketchup on the others--" "You can put on your own ketch--" "Oh," said Molly, "but I want *you* to." I slid my left hand in through the left hip opening. "Please?" "Uh, okay. It'll take awhile." "Can we have a couple of coffees now?" "Sure." He showed the order to the others and they snapped into action. The coffees arrived and we both burned our tongues. "Go ahead," said Molly, "Put it in." "Gimme a sec," I said and started kissing the back of her neck. "Mmmm," she said, and arched and pushed back against me. "Do it." I unbuttoned and slid in easily. Her modified skirt was working. The two girls in the back had noticed that we had started kissing and were whispering to each other. They giggled and the boys went over and huddled with them. "Ooooh," whispered Molly, and started fishing through her bag. I upped the tempo. She pulled out a pen and slid it up under her t-shirt which she pulled taut, and wrote a little mark on the shirt over each nipple. Odd, I thought. But even more odd was when one of the kids came out from the back and just *had* to replace all the trashcan bags at seven in the morning, even though they were all clearly empty. "Slow down," whispered Molly, "this is fun. Slow down." So I just pushed up behind her and stopped, and put my hands on the counter. The trashbag kid had reported back to his friends and they were all laughing and turning red. "Excuse me, said Molly, somehow locating her voice, to the geekiest-looking of the boys there, "could you give me a hand with something?" "Uh, sure." He geeked his way over. "What do you need?" She pulled her shirt taut and motioned with her chin. I've got these awful marks on my shirt. Could you bring a cup of icewater and a few napkins?" "Comin' right up." "Thanks. You're sweet." He swallowed and we saw his adam's-apple jiggle noticeably, cartoon-like, and he geeked away. He came back with the cup and said, "Here y'go." Molly said, Do you think you could help?" She dipped a napkin into the icewater and started rubbing hard over her right nipple. It didn't seem to affect the stain at all. "You do the other one, okay Sugar?" The girls were giggling fiercely over by the microwave and the other boys were trying to concentrate on our order but kept looking up. "C'mon," said Molly, as I started moving again, "rub the stain out." He dipped a napkin into the water and gave the mark over her left nipple three very quick, cursory rubs. Then, he breathed. "I see the problem," I said, taking Molly's napkin and rubbing it on the inside of her shirt, "The mark's on the *inside*. Try like this. See, it's coming right out." "I--I--" the boy said, shaking noticeably. "Oh, all right," said Molly, "gimme that thing." And she took his napkin and wiped it on the pen mark herself. We heard the boy who was making the McMuffins say, "What're you, nuts, man? You had it. It was right there." Molly let go of her shirt and when it settled itself there was a big blue blur over each of her nipples, which were clearly visible, the material of the shirt being almost transparent when wet. Two men walked into the store, and I stopped moving and pushed up right behind Molly again. They were thirtyish, good-looking, outfitted in denim, an earring in each of their right ears. They looked over at us and moved into the register on the far left. "Sorry, said the geeky boy, "this register isn't open." The men walked to the middle one. It was closed too. So they headed towards us. We did this ridiculous hop-shimmy to move as far to the right as we could. "Breeders," said the one to the other, as they got their food and headed out. "And I thought *we* were bad..." "We *are*," said the first one, and they left in hysterics. "Order's up!" called out one of the girls in the back. "It *is* to go, right?" said the best-looking boy. "Yeah," said Molly, but can I have one of the Egg McMuffins *now*? Please?" "Sure," and he handed her one. She unwrapped it and pulled it below the counter, out of sight of all the kids, who were now openly staring. "Oh," said Molly, and shivered slightly. Half a minute or so later, she brought the sandwich back up to her mouth and took a bite. I stepped back and buttoned my pants back up. "Hey," said Molly, licking the corners of her mouth, "Good sandwich. You guys eat em." And we left money and headed out to the car. Molly ran back in by herself, grabbed a handful of napkins from a dispenser and came back to the car. The first thing my mom said was "What's so funny?" RICHH