By The Numbers Ch. 03

Sheila echoed the laugh, waved with her free hand. "You're pretty cool," she called after the girl, as the blonde resumed her jogging. Sheila turned back to me with an excited gleam in her eye. Impulsively, she straddled my lap, her warm, wet pussy pressed against my balls. "How fucking hot was that?" she asked. "I can't believe she stuck around and watched us!"

I ran my hands up Sheila's thighs, beneath her skirt. The heat of her pussy, the fresh wetness leaking down my balls, the lingering kinky feeling of what had just happened . . . I was getting hard again, slowly but surely. "You're incredible," I said.

Sheila ran her hands across my chest, smiling demurely. "You're a really sweet guy, Nate," she said. "Can't believe you're single."

"Maybe I've just been waiting for the right girl," I said, gazing into her eyes. I was taking a chance, I knew. But there was no way I could deny how I felt about Sheila. Sexy, beautiful, kinky . . . she was the sort of woman, the sort of lover, that men around the world dreamt about.

Sheila's smile wavered a moment, and she looked away. In that instant, she seemed almost sad. She inhaled deeply, then managed a smile and looked back to me. "Hey, you hungry?" she asked. "Let's hit a drive-thru."

I thought about pushing the subject, trying to figure out if what we had was a relationship, or, as Andi had surmised, we were just 'fooling around.' I figured Sheila had her reasons for being evasive, and being the guy I was, I wasn't about to endanger a good thing by pushing too far. So, reluctantly, I agreed to getting a bite to eat, especially since it meant spending a little more time with Sheila.

***

Inspired by the encounter with our voyeur, Sheila evidently decided that she wasn't done testing the boundaries of decency. Once on the road in my car, she started rubbing me through my jeans. I did not offer any resistance, so, as cars surrounded us on all sides, Sheila unzipped my jeans and fished out my cock. It was still sticky and held that strong, cloying aroma of spent semen, yet that did not seem to bother Sheila as she leaned over and began licking my rapidly-hardening length.

She made no effort to stay low in my car and avoid being seen. In fact, now and then, she would lift her head and look around, eyes flashing in arousal as she spied all the cars around us. Some of the other drivers and passengers saw what she was doing. A few kept time with us, watching Sheila's bobbing head. They honked their horns and grinned, giving me thumbs-up signs.

Eventually, I pulled into the drive-thru lane at a popular burger chain. "Welcome to Whattaburger. May I take your order?"

"Yeah, um . . . we'd like, uh . . . one wh-whattaburger combo, uh . . . with a Coke, and, uh . . . a chicken, um, tenders . . . basket."

"Oh-kay . . . what kind of drink with the tenders?"

I gently pulled on one of Sheila's tails, urging her hungry mouth from my dick. "What do you wanna drink?"

"Cum," she said with a mischievous grin, just loudly enough, then went happily back to slurping.

"What was that?" asked the voice through the static-filled speaker.

"Um, Coke," I answered hastily.

". . . please pull up."

I sighed, rolling my head. "Sheila, come on, you gotta stop."

"Hm-hmm," she responded negatively, shaking her head as she kept her mouth full. Her right hand gripped my balls, squeezing gently. The message was clear; she was not going to stop.

Being caught by a lone college coed jogging in the woods was one thing, especially considering that the girl had been interested and fascinated enough to watch. But this was different. This was a busy drive-thru. My nervousness overwhelmed my arousal. Sheila's talented mouth and hands kept me from going soft, but I knew I was a long way from orgasm.

I had to make a quick choice: pull up to the window, and suffer whatever embarrassment or excitement that might occur, or take the safe road, and pull out of line. But being with Sheila, obviously, was all about pushing boundaries. Not taking the safe road, but forsaking it for the bumpy, less-traveled one.

Fuck it,I thought, making my decision.For better or worse.

"Mmm. Mmm," Sheila moaned, sucking and stroking my cock avidly. My galvanization allowed my libido to slip through, trampling any fears I may have had. I remembered how excited I was at the blonde jogger's fascination of my dick in Sheila's mouth, her shocked yet amazed reaction to Sheila sucking out my load. Regardless of what reaction we would get from the girl at the drive-thru window, I suddenly realized it was going to be exciting.

There was a young, pudgy Hispanic girl awaiting me, leaning halfway out the window and smacking her gum. She watched my car approach, leaned back in just before I pulled up. "That's gonna be twelve-twenty . . ." she trailed off, watching Sheila's head bobbing in my lap. She gave me a disgusted look, and sighed.

I fought back a grin, handing the girl two twenties. Sheila's wet sucking and smacking sounds, her melodramatic moans, filled the car. I knew the girl could hear them.

She handed me my change, smacking it into my hand. A couple of coins fell to the ground outside the car. "Next window,pervert," she said acidly.

I crumpled up the money, then pulled forward. Word had spread quickly, obviously. There was a pimply kid at the next window, and as I pulled up, I saw a few others crowding behind him. All were grinning, and exclaimed loudly as they saw Sheila's head rolling back and forth.

"Dude!"

"Holy shit!"

"You fuckin'rock, dude!"

A voice called from the back: "No way! Chick's really suckin' his dick?"

Sheila suddenly lifted her head, her mouth shiny and wet. She faced the guys in the window, and licked her lips in an exaggerated way. "I sure am," she said with a slutty smile. "And I'm gonna let him bust a nut in my mouth."

Well, that little declaration certainly elicited a response. The guys yelled, hollered, gave each other high-fives. I took the bag and drinks offered me, set them on the floorboard. Then I noticed one of the kids holding up his camera-phone, trained to capture an image of Sheila with a cock in her mouth.

Okay, that's enough,I thought, and pulled away. I could just imagine that picture being spread around the Internet. I was sure Sheila wouldn't want that.

I drove across the street, cutting off a big white SUV in the process, and found a parking space toward the far end of a business lot. I didn't even cut the engine; just shoved my seat back and grabbed Sheila's head with my hands, pumping my hips up toward her mouth. I was so utterly aroused that I wasn't thinking of anything other than my own release.

"Suck it, Sheila," I growled, using her. She let me, whimpering, moaning around my dick, as aroused as I was. "Suck my cock 'til I cum in your mouth."

She quivered, and pumped me harder. "Mmmm . . . ."

***

I was flying high like an astronaut when I stepped through the doors of Jersey Jack's that night. After getting naked and sweaty in my car, I had just enough time to head home and shower, after dropping Sheila off at her car in the visitor's lot on campus. Positively reeking of that sweet smell of sex, she gave me a long, deep kiss before letting me go. I wanted to think that the dreamy expression on her face was due to more than simple sexual gratification.

Right off the bat, I had a killer night at work. My good mood was infectious, translating to even the most sour-faced of my guests. I couldn't stop grinning the whole night, and while I did not let on why I was in such an elated mood, at least one of my friends knew why.

"Well, you're sure dancing on Cloud Nine."

I looked to the source of the voice as I was putting in an order at one of the computers. Andi was giving me a knowing smile. I just chuckled. "Cloud Nine, ten, eleven . . . ."

She chuckled. "That good, huh?"

I took in a deep breath, let it out with a sigh of remembrance. "It's not what you think," I said. "We really like being together."

"Oh, I'm sure," said Andi with a sharp laugh.

I shot her a look. "You don't know how it is when we're alone," I said defensively.

She leaned closer, speaking under her breath. "Then why doesn't anybody else know?" she asked.

I soured. I really did not have a reply. In the back of my mind, I knew that what Andi was insinuating was right. But I was defiant in ignoring it.

"Because it's not time, yet," I said firmly, then stepped away, sure in my righteousness.

***

Since Sheila had called me the evening before, I had her number saved on my caller ID at home. As soon as I got out of my work clothes, I hit the 'call back' button. I heard it ring a few times before the other end was picked up.

"Hi."

"Hi, baby," I said, in my most suave voice.

There was a long pause on Sheila's end. "Um . . . I can't really talk right now," she said, her voice sharp, almost biting.

I swallowed nervously. "Oh . . . you're not alone, huh?"

"Nope!" she said quickly. "Hey, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow, okay? 'Night!"

I held onto the receiver for a while, hanging up only once I heard the annoying beeping that automatically came when a broken line was kept open for too long. I slammed the receiver down, feeling jilted, brushed off, discarded. I lit a cigarette, trying not to let my anger get the better of me. Finally, I snatched up the phone once more, dialed a different number.

"Yo."

"Mark? Hey, it's Nate. Think you can score me something tonight?"

I heard a sigh on the other end. "Dude, I'm way insideHalo."

"I just need some beer," I said. "Look, you're five minutes away. I'll give you ten bucks for gas."

". . . yeah, sure, man."

***

It was late – almost two in the morning – when the phone rang. I had guzzled six beers in just over two hours, and my head was swimming. Maybe not blitzed, but I was drunk. No doubt about it.

"Yeah."

"Look, Nate, you can't call me like that, okay?"

My hazy mind stirred slowly. "Sheila?"

She huffed. "Are you drunk?" she asked, her question sounding almost like an accusation.

"Mmm . . . had a few," I said, struggling to sit up. I had passed out on the couch. I reached for my cigarettes.

"Nate," she said, speaking in a hushed tone. I wondered if she was in the bathroom of her apartment, or maybe out on the balcony, away from Mr. Lawyer, who undoubtedly lay sated and snoring in the bed they shared. "Do you wanna be with me?"

I lit a cigarette, almost dropping my lighter. "I wanna . . . be with you . . . forever, baby. I L—"

"Then listen to me," she said, cutting me off. "Icallyou, okay?"

I sighed, then coughed as the smoke caught in my throat. "I jus' wanted t'say that I was thinkin' 'bout you—"

"Nate."

"Yeah."

"Go to bed, okay? Just . . . go to sleep."

". . . I wan' you."

She sighed again. "Soon, baby, okay?"

"When?"

There was a long pause. "I'll let you know," she said abruptly, then hung up.

I listened to the silence for a long moment. "Fine."

To be continued . . . .