Fast Food Seduction
Mg; oral; inc
I set my tray down on my favorite table. My preferred seat faces the half-wall separating it from the table on the next section. On top of the divider, a metal grillwork of leaves and intertwined vines allows for clandestine viewing of the other patrons. The pathway to its right affords a perfect view of the door to the parking lot along with a direct line to the Order Here counter. I prefer it to the window table looking into the playground. Too much movement for my taste. I like my attention focused on still life beauty.
The view makes the location coveted, but the table has one more desirable feature. Of all the chairs in the dining room, this table has the ones with the most comfortable padding.
As I unwrap my custom prepared burger (no onion slivers, just in case), I notice two new guests enter the restaurant. Without a doubt, the pair are mother and daughter, easily discernible by the matching hair styles (long brown ponytails pulled back with yellow scrunchies with bangs covering their foreheads), similar facial features from the cute button noses to the dimpled cheeks, and most importantly, the very same laugh. I can hear their jovial tittering from across the room. Nothing is more enjoyable than a little girl's laugh. Well, almost nothing.
After squirting the ketchup from the foil pack for dipping, I glance at the pair again. The shorter one almost reaches her mother's shoulder. Tall for her age, perhaps. Energetic judging by her constant flitting about the counter. Athletic also as demonstrated by pushing herself up and balancing on the edge of the counter.
Taking a bite of my burger, I nonchalantly sneak another peek. While her mother waits at the order pickup area, the girl dispenses their sodas. Two bites later, she walks past me. From the back I note her flat butt ensconced in the faded blue denims along with a purple tee shirt so tight I can see her shoulder blades sticking out.
I follow her strides for a few more steps until she selects her seat. My lucky day. The little princess chooses the table at the end of the next dividing wall and a place on the bench so she faces me. When she turns to wave at her mother, as though the woman would not be able to find her, I see the faint roundness in her upper chest. My heart skips a beat.
The mother totes the full tray past me. Dressed in matching jeans, I notice the difference in physique. Though both are thin, the woman possesses a beautiful round butt, something for the girl to develop in the future.
As she puts the tray down, I fear my entertainment would cease when her body blocks my view. With surprise and elation, I see her sit next to her daughter. While I see the girl, I can also view the mother. The openings in the sculpture line up with them, letting each of my eyes drink in their beauty separately.
Mom chose to wear a yellow tank top, low-cut enough to expose the top of her large breasts. I drool at the thought of the girl inheriting those large, life-sustaining beauties in a few years. What a lucky girl.
While I stared, the girl lifted her eyes, locking them on mine. The sapphire orbs would not allow me to look away, holding me in their grasp even as she ingested a fry. Mom continues to talk, unaware her daughter pays little attention to the words. Her concentration lies on the man behind the metal vines, I can tell.
I try telepathy to get the girl to blink. My thoughts bounce to the woman who says something funny enough to get the girl to giggle. The momentary lapse allows me to flinch and then look away. Taking a deep breath, I think the encounter over. Little did I know, she has other plans.
Shifting her body, she brings her foot onto the bench and being exceedingly flexible, sits down on it. Oh, what a lucky foot.
Slowly, she looks up until she again finds my eyes. She knows she has me. Imagine, she thinks with her brain waves as clear as my own. Just imagine.
The two of them mirror the other so much that my brain exchanged their lives. I could see the girl maturing while the woman returns to adolescence.
The girl remains sitting in the restaurant joking but now with her own offspring. A well-behaved boy perhaps. Okay, that might be a stretch, but my mind added another feature. He has my chin.
I know it is only a fantasy, but in my eyes, the future mother has grown very maternal, yet retained her youthful zest. She appears the girl-next-door who constantly fights off the boys in the neighborhood, even in middle age.
In an instant the image fades, her mother says something to make her daughter giggle. All hopes of my recovery become lost when her mother flashes the ring on her finger. The glimmering diamond shifts us, the girl no longer in purple and denim, but a full length gown of white. Even with the veil covering her face, I know her, from the stride to the piercing blue eyes to the baby bump of her gown. She holds my arm as we walk together up the aisle, passing dozens of family until I stop to give her away. I hope for happiness but dread the worse. I know my time with her would be fleeting at best.
As she turns, the veil becomes a mortarboard and the gown becomes a blue academic robe. The tassel flies all over as she jumps with joy. The all night study sessions can now be devoted to lovemaking. We still have dozens of positions from the Kama Sutra to try. Practice makes perfect.
As her tossed mortarboard flies upward, it transforms into a pompom. After catching it, the little girl does her flying splits and toe touches and somersaults, becoming the exhibitionist all in the name of team spirit. A boy lifts her skyward, his hand firmly in her promised land, making me jealous.
As she lands, they embrace to soft music. His arms around her waist, hers around his neck. Swaying back and forth, rubbing together without being intimate.
As the lights fade, a single door opens, and the girl enters. All in tears, she uses the back of my hand to wipe them away. She kisses me and says, "You'd never break my heart, would you?" I never answer, only holding her tight to my body.
As I release my grip, we separate. I find myself staring at the beauty of the girl, a beauty no longer hidden by the confinement of clothes. I kiss her budding nipples and work my way down. As I taste from the chalice of her being, her sweet nectar refreshes my being forever. I know she has experienced love.
A tray drops at the counter, shocking me out of the dream. Her mother removes the trash-filled tray while the girl still stares at me. I know she controls me, able to wrap me around her finger. My soul no longer is mine.
The girl rises and approaches me. "Take me home," she says.
I nod and pick up my tray, the half-eaten lunch still there. After disposing of it, the girl leads me to the door where her mother stands. "You know, Jack, if you invite us out to lunch, you could at least let us eat at the same table."
"It wouldn't be the same, dear sister."
"What were you thinking about, Uncle Jack?" asked the girl.
"Just thinking about your mom and me growing up."
My sister smiles a knowing smile and takes my other hand. "Come on over to my place with us. I think Sara is ready to start reliving those experiences. I believe I was ten the first time we made love. Just like she is today."
The little girl's eyes plead with me. How could I turn her down?
"And afterwards," continues my sister, "We could talk about a more permanent arrangement."
I was wrong. There are two people who control my life. My sister and her little girl who inherited my chin.
