It was their good fortune that they had parked directly behind Mike's car.
It was obvious that something hot was going on in that car. The windows had begun to steam up almost as soon as the car was parked and the occupants had not even bothered to remove the speaker from the pole. Soon the car was rocking and rolling and bouncing on its springs as if it were going at high speed over a rough road.
Homer had taken his cock out.
His enormous cock stretched up almost to the top of the steering-wheel and seemed damned near as fat as the steering column. He gripped it by the hilt, his hand barely able to span the breadth of his prick.
"Gee, I sure wish we could see what they were up to in that car," he sighed, as he gave his cock a stroke.
Thelma regarded his prick.
Thelma was more an exhibitionist than a voyeur – but the sight of a cock that huge could not help but inspire her. Even though she had been getting stuffed full of Homer's cock at both ends for years, she never ceased to marvel that Homer's meat was so huge.
She pulled her skirt up. She wore no panties – she seldom did – and her hairy cunt was framed in the straps of her black garter belt.
She began to finger her clit.
Homer stroked his prick.
Side by side, they watched the car ahead of them shake and shudder and rattle as whoever was in it did fascinating things.
After a while, Thelma's clit began to spark and tremble. Homer was whimpering somewhat as he pulled and tossed on his cock. She turned to watch him. She liked to see him come. It was a sight that she was well acquainted with, because Homer was in the habit of jacking off into her face whenever she was fucking someone else. She adored it when his hot, thick jism splashed all over her, while another guy's cock fucked her cunt.
She spread her thighs wider apart, in case Homer wanted to watch her fingerfucking herself, too.
But Homer was looking straight ahead, through the windshield, at the car in front of them. He didn't even seem aware of Thelma at the moment, and she knew he must be wrapped up in whatever strange fantasies ruled his mind at a time like this.
She could see that he was going to come soon. It seemed a shame to let the stuff stain the roof of the car and hang there, dripping down on their heads for the rest of the night. Thelma leaned over Homer's lap. If he noticed, he gave no sign. He was muttering about nubile young girls getting fucked in cars, and his fist skimmed up and down on his cock at a steady rate.
Thelma's eyes crossed as she gazed down at the head of his prick. She grinned at the sight and then, still grinning, let her lips slowly part and curled her tongue out. Her head was poised over his prick, but she did not swoop down on the tasty morsel. Thelma sucked Homer's cock regularly, but not when he was jacking off. Blowjobs and handjobs were separate things, and she never interfered with his jack-off pleasures.
She continued to frig her clit and finger her cunt, and her juices began to flow. Her mouth was drooling as much as her pussy, and a few drops of saliva fell onto the head of his cock.
"Feed it to me, honey," she whispered.
Homer was heaving his ass up from the bucket seat now, driving his mighty cock through his fist. The pisshole had parted atop his crown, and cum was bubbling out.
Then he gasped.
His cum shot out as if it had come from a high-pressure firehose.
It flew right up into Thelma's face.
The hot fluid skimmed over her arched tongue and splashed on her lips and slid back into her mouth. Her head tilted back as his cum hit the roof of her mouth under such pressure. Her face was being forced upwards on the geyser, as if she were trying to drink from Old Faithful.
But Thelma forced her head down, mouth wide open, fighting her way back to his spewing cock.
His cum kept coming. He didn't blow off in a series of spurts, like most men, but instead his jism came out all at once, in an unbroken rope of slime.
Thelma gulped the succulent juice down happily, and her hand flew wildly over her clit as she frigged herself off.
At last he stopped shooting.
A final trickle ran out and dripped sluggishly down his prick – and as always, his prick stayed as huge and as hard as if he had not shot a single drop, while his vast, hairy balls had not diminished whatsoever by a single spillage.
In fact, Homer did not even seem to realize that he had come.
Homer continued to pump his prick, beginning a second jack off without missing a single stroke!
Thelma leaned back, smiling happily, her whole face soaked with jism and her pussy nicely creamed.
They both looked at the car ahead, which was still rocking wildly.
And then – to their joy – two other avid fuck-watchers appeared upon the scene!
CHAPTER NINE
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.