Chapter 9

In the same row as the Eldorado and two spaces down was a battered old Pontiac convertible, with a plaid canvas top and, to a cursory and casual inspection, the occupants of the Pontiac would have seemed much the same as any of the young couples who used the drive-in to fuck and suck.

If one looked in through the plastic rear window, one would have seen a crewcut man at the wheel and a head of long, tawny-blonde hair beside the driver and, since they were not snuggling passionately together, the assumption would be that it was a first date that was not working out, or a last date ending an affair, or perhaps a sexual hiatus following a lover’s quarrel. But the assumption would have been wrong. This young couple was not and never had been lovers. They did not want to be lovers. In fact, they did not even realize that it would be possible to be lovers, and they would have been totally disgusted at the suggestion.

Because they were both men.

The driver with the crewcut was named Tom.

The one with the blonde wig was Jerry.

They were both high school students, in the same class as Mike and Clyde, but neither of them were popular or successful with girls, the way the other two were. They weren’t particularly ugly or disagreeable, but they were both shy. Neither could work up the courage to ask a girl to go out with them.

Both lads were virgins.

And both were exceptionally horny.

Unable to get girls on their own, they had worked out a scheme whereby they could spy on others and at least get a vicarious thrill from time to time.

They roamed the drive-in, peeking into cars with steamed windows. It was easy enough. If anyone challenged them, they would claim they were on the way to the refreshment stand—but no one had ever issued a challenge, because in cars with steamed windows, the occupants were always much too interested in each other to notice two heads at the window.

The only drawback to the plan was that one of them had to dress in drag. Two men could not be seen going to the passion pit together, without being thought queer. So one had to masquerade as a girl. Since it was Tom’s car, Jerry had to wear the disguise.

Although Jerry was rather plain, as a man, he made a rather attractive-looking girl, with the tousled blonde wig and plenty of makeup and a pair of falsies he had stolen from his younger sister. He looked so attractive that Tom often found himself wishing that Jerry really was a girl.

At first, Jerry had been mortified at being dressed in women’s garb, but he had gotten used to the idea after awhile, and he had discovered that there were benefits to the arrangement that he hadn’t thought of beforehand. Masquerading as a girl, Jerry managed to see more than Tom did, because he could go to the women’s restroom.

Under the pretense of adjusting his makeup, Jerry was able to catch glimpses of crotches as unsuspecting girls squatted on toilets. Once he had seen a girl adjusting her bra, and several times he had heard double-dating girls discussing their boyfriends’ cocks. Jerry never told Tom about these happy occasions.

He was afraid that Tom might decide to wear the wig.

“There’s one,” said Tom.

Jerry looked out.

They watched a car rock and roll violently in the row ahead of them, and their pricks began to get hard. Later they would jack themselves off—carefully not to look at each other, the way queers would—but they wanted to get a peek into that rocking car first.

They got out and strolled side by side, innocent as could be, up toward the car in the row ahead.

They came up beside it and paused, pretending that they were talking to each other, but looking out of the corners of their eyes into the back seat of the car.

They had arrived just in time to see Mike start fucking Linda.

They became so engrossed in the sight that it never dawned on them that they, too, might be under observation.

But Thelma and Homer Wright had their eyes on them—watching the watchers, as it were.

Clyde and Tina were looking on, as well, peering over from the front seat as Mike and Linda fucked in the back. But none of them noticed the two excited faces that were looking in the side window, cheek to cheek, eyes bulging out and mouths hanging open with envy.

Linda and Mike were too interested in each other to notice anything else, while Clyde and Tina were concentrating on the action like fanatic spectators, not realizing they were not the only observers.

“It’s Mike and Clyde,” Jerry whispered.

“Yeah! With a couple younger girls,” Tom croaked.

“Lucky bastards!” groaned Jerry.

Jerry’s face was writhing with contorted emotions—so much that his wig slipped to a crooked angle—and his prick was drumming madly inside his dainty dress.

The two guys pressed their faces right up to the glass, noses flattening, as they gaped in awe at the juicy details.

And Thelma and Homer gaped at them.

“There’s something funny going on there,” said Homer.

“It’s just a nice young couple who like to watch other people make love,” Thelma said, seeing nothing wrong with that.

“Yeah—but it’s funny.”

“Why, Homer?”

“Because they both got hard-ons,” said Homer.

Thelma blinked. She was well aware that the boy had an erection because it was sticking out in his jeans and she had been eyeing it in her lustful fashion. But now she looked at the girl and, sure enough, there was a big phallic lump in her dress, as well.

“How can such things be?” Homer wondered.

Thelma thought about it. “She must have a dildo stuck up her cunt.”

“Ah!” Homer said, pleased at being enlightened.

“Funny she needs a dildo, though, when her boyfriend has such a nice-looking bone on,” Thelma added.

“Maybe she’s a virgin or something,” suggested Homer.

That seemed possible.

If so, her boyfriend must be frustrated. Thelma began to get speculative ideas. As always, when Thelma speculated, she licked her lips in anticipation...

Linda, meanwhile, was licking more than her lips.

As soon as Mike had scrambled over the seat, he had started to mount her missionary style, the way that Clyde had.

But Linda, despite her inexperience, had a lively imagination. She knew fucking could be done in other positions.

She already knew what it was like to get fucked missionary style, and now she was wondering how it would feel getting it from the back, or from the top. Since she was lucky enough to be having two different men on her first night of fucking, she figured that it made sense to try some variety.

But still basically shy, despite her unbridled lust, Linda could not bring herself to mention her desires. She thought it sounded kind of depraved for a girl to suggest variations.

So she sidetracked Mike.

She figured that, if they squirmed around a bit in foreplay, she could manage to work herself into some other position so that it would seem as if he had accidentally got her cunt stuffed full of prick from a different direction, or maybe as if it had been Mike’s idea. With that in mind, she slid down as Mike knelt between her thighs, so that his prick loomed out over her belly instead of going into her cunt.

Mike tried to shuffle back so that he could aim his prick at her pussy, but Linda kept pushing down, as well.

His cock hovered above her tits.

The tip of his cock was frothy again. Linda cupped her tits together with both hands, deepening her cleavage and arching her slender back so that her tits thrust up.

Mike got the idea. He began to fuck her between the tits, his fat prick sliding through that soft, smooth tit tunnel. Linda purred like a cat, rubbing her tits against his cock. Mike had never fucked a girl between the tits before and he found it most enjoyable. He stared down, watching the big purple wedge of his cockhead come sliding out from the top of her cleavage. His cock-knob was dripping and it laid a slimy track up her breastbone and into the hollow of her throat. His prick slid faster, gliding on the lubrication of its own seepage, his cock-knob foaming.