SLIPPING INTO DEPRAVITY - Ch. 38, Cab Ride Sex Show (Patreon)

A NIGHT OUT WITH THE GIRLS, PART ONE OF FIVE

KAYLEY POV

“Hey Kayley, there you are,” Leroy walked right up to us, smiling. For an instant, I was frozen, startled, as he seemed to appear out of nowhere, in front of me and my friends.

With a smooth casual move, he stepped up, pressing his body against mine, and cupped my breast. His other hand, just out of sight, reached up behind my neck and pulled my hair, jerking my head back and mouth open. He sank his open mouth on to mine, and his tongue slid in, leaving me breathless and melting in my arms.

My friends were shocked speechless, all of them staring, as this absolute stranger who they knew wasn’t Sam, french kissed and fondled me into a quivering pile of goo.

He broke the kiss and looked up innocently.

“Are these your friends?” he asked casually. “Hi, I’m Leroy.”

“Uhm...,” I said, desperately buying time. I was totally discombobulated, my panties had instantly soaked, and I was quite out of breath, blushing red hot and totally embarrassed. Where the fuck had he come from? And what must they be thinking? How do I talk my way out of this?

“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” Tiff said, extending her hand to shake, she was a mousey brunette. “This is Claire!”

“Hi!” Claire waived. Wonderful lady, but gossipy.

“Jan...” She extended a hand. Tall blonde, went for platinum, skinny.

“So,” Claire said, “Leroy? Was that it? Kayley's never mentioned you. But you guys seem to be good friends.”

“Oh,” I said airily, trying not to blush, or at least make my heartrate go down. “he’s just a friend.”

A friend who stuck his tongue down my throat right in front of them. I could see the wheels turning in their heads. I needed to say something more. Friend of Sam’s? No, that wouldn’t go anywhere good! Friend of both me and Sam? No, too many questions! New friend? No! Work friend? They were from work, so no!

Old flame? Yeah, that could work. Explains the kiss. Go with that.

“This is Leroy,” I said. “He’s in town visiting. He’s an old flame from university...”

Okay, I thought. I could dig my way out of this.

“Ryerson?” Jan asked.

“Stanford,” Leroy said, smiling. He put his arm around me, and I couldn’t do anything but try and look comfortable. “But I live here now.”

Fuck! How was it possible to be this suddenly horny, and so completely frustrated and embarrassed.

He looked down at me.

“Hey,” he said, apparently innocently, “nice necklace! Is that amber?”

I put my hand to my throat to cover it. I was wearing his necklace, he’d be so fucking self satisfied, like it meant something. It was only a spur of the moment thing that I’d decided to wear it out to girl’s night. I barely ever wore it. Well, only at work, but I’d received compliments for it, so I'd kept doing it, it seemed to have become the constant for my outfits there. But there was nothing deeper, not like I was displaying myself, they had no idea. Or sometimes, often, when I was going out to have fun. Or when I was going shopping. Or just casual, like at the gym.

But apart from that, hardly ever.

Not around the apartment, not very much. Well, not every day, a lot of days. But not constantly or anything. The truth was, it was just a nice piece of jewelry and it went with everything, and there was no need to pretend it had any significance.

Apart from the fact that Leroy had put it on me, and liked it on me, because he had some idea it made me his possession. I shivered. I practically never thought of it like that.

Although, I’ll admit that when I put it on to go and hang with my friends, I’d thought vividly of Leroy and his sexual domination, how intensely he fucked me and how I just kept surrendering to him. What would they say if they saw this side of me? I’d thought, touching the necklace and... myself.

Honestly, it was hard to put it on, and not think of Leroy and what he did to me.

Hard to touch it or be reminded of it and not think of his cock in me.

But apart from that, it meant nothing. I should just take it off now. Except, not in front of him, or them, not the right time. Later, when I was alone.

“Very nice,” Claire replied, she smiled at me. “Does Sam know?”

The bitch! She was practically accusing me of having an affair. The answer was yes, of course, but it was way more complicated than that.

“That Kayley and I used to be an item?” he grinned at her. “Sam and I are tight. I love the guy. He’s like my brother. We share everything.” Did they notice the way he stressed ‘everything’? “No secrets. Honestly, Kay and I, we’ll always have something special. But her and Sam? I couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for her.”

He paused.

“Oh shit,” he looked at me. “I didn’t embarrass you did I? With that kiss? I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think.”

He turned to the girls.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he smiled. “I promise.”

Okay, now they’d be convinced it was exactly what it looked like. The bastard. My god, he was diabolical!

He turned to me, an innocent expression.

“Anyway,” he said. “Sorry I was running late. But I got the tickets, the show’s going to be starting soon...”

What the fuck was he talking about? He seemed to trail off, looking at the girls.

“Wait,” he said. “Is this the Girl’s Night that you were talking about?”

They were staring.

“Uh yeah,” I admitted. “Every Tuesday?”

“Shit!” he said. Then he turned to the girls. “I’m sorry ladies, I guess there’s been some confusion. Kayley’s always doubling up.”

I blushed suddenly and brightly, feeling my cheeks go hot. I hoped that they wouldn't notice. What a bastard, I thought, doing this to me. He was practically drawing them a picture.

“Oh that’s all right,” Tiffany said. “I guess you’ve got a show. Is Sam meeting you there?”

“Sam?” Leroy looked distracted. “Oh no, this was just me and Kayley, Sam’s home tonight. Oh well. No worries. We’ll just reschedule.”

Fuck! Tell them about the bathroom, just go ahead. I was so embarrassed.

"Sam has a deadline," I explained lamely. "Some work emergency, we were going to go out as a threesome--"

Oh shit! Open mouth, insert foot. I faked a laugh.

"Not that kind!" I laughed again. "You know, just the three of us. But Sam couldn't, so he said for us to go have fun--- and then I forgot --- girl's night."

God, were they buying this? Any of this? I sounded like an idiot.

“Well...” Claire said, “there’s no need to ruin your whole night. You could join us. Any friend of Kayley’s and all that. I’m sure we’d all love to get to know you better.”

My stomach dropped! Oh no!

“That would be grea–” Leroy started, before I cut him off.

“No!” I said. The last thing I wanted was Leroy hanging out with the rest of us. “Those tickets were hard to get.” I looked at my friends. “I’m so sorry, I feel like an idiot. I guess I just wasn’t paying attention to dates. I’m going to have to bail.”

Leroy’s arms had slid around my waist, and I’m sure they were noticing.

“No problem,” Claire said. “You kids go off and have fun.”

I hugged her, and then Jan and Tiff, said our goodbyes. Leroy waved. They hugged him too. He hugged Claire a little too close for my taste. I caught Jan looking him up and down speculatively, she was such a slut!

Then we were off.

Crisis handled, somewhat. I was still red, still breathless, but at least I’d gotten him away from them. I could hook up with them later, or phone, when I’d had some time to think up some convincing lies, and maybe make sure he was on side. Fucking Stanford? He’s from out of town...’I live here now!’ Jesus! Read the room! Seriously, what the hell?

Girl’s night was ruined. So what was the back up plan? I supposed the smartest thing was to ditch Leroy, preferably after telling him off, then go home to Sam and run through the debacle. I bet I could get some foot rubs and oral sex out of it.

We walked over to the entrance of the bar. The girl’s table was out of sight. Out of the blue grabbed me with one arm around my waist, one hand to the back of my head and kissed me hard. This time I had the presence of mind not to have an open mouth, but it didn’t help. His kiss was so fierce, it pried my jaws apart, his tongue invaded me, my heart started racing and I went completely weak at the knees.

The Hostess at the front clucked her tongue, pretending not to notice. The kiss rolled on, as I melted and melted. She coughed politely, and then made some remark about public displays of affection. But all I could think about was the way he was kissing me and how my body was responding.

“I want you to know,” I said, panting heavily, my voice all weak and whispery, “I am very cross at you. Angry even.”

“Okay.” He was smirking. “Just one question. Are you wet right now?”

“You asshole,” I spat, my smile tight and resentful, “you fucking well know that I am!”

The minute it was out, I new I shouldn’t have said it. But fuck, I was so wet I was squishy and there wasn’t any way to hide it from him, so I might as well have admitted it. If I didn’t, he’d just push.

“You know,” the Hostess pointed out to no one in particular, “there are a variety of reasonably priced hotels in the neighborhood. One doesn’t actually have to have sex in public in the lobby."

I turned red. What a snooty bitch.

He laughed nastily. Oh he was such a jerk. If we weren’t in a public place, I’d have his cock in my mouth right now.

But I’d still be very mad at him.

Look, it’s just a thing, okay. It's a really nice cock, I like it in my mouth. Don’t give me grief.

“We should get out of here,” I said, “before my girlfriends spot us.” All it would take would be one of them going off to the bathroom or rounding the corner, and I was going to have a lot of trouble explaining. A lot more trouble. And they'd probably jump to all sorts of conclusions that would be true. Particularly right now, when my skin was hot, my pussy was clenching and just liquifying, and I couldn’t seem to think right.

The situation was so fucked up, he’d taken me by surprise, thrown me totally off balance, and then he did it again.

“I love this sweater,” he said, fucking with me. “What’s it made of?”

“Angora.”

“Nice.”

What the fuck? I thought.

“You need to leave,” I hissed.

“You both definitely need to leave,” the hostess said. “Although I admit, I did enjoy it.”

“Well,” he said, “we can go back to my place. I can take care of that for you. Have you home fresh as a daisy for Sam. He’ll never know.”

Oh, he was so sleazy! I could almost go for it, I admit, I was wet enough, and discombobulated enough, and he was a great fuck. But geez, that shit he pulled. I couldn’t let him get away with it. I needed to control the situation, not turn into a sex toy every time he snapped his fingers.

“No way,” I said firmly, I cleared my throat so that my voice would be firm. “I’m never setting foot in your place again without Sam there. That’s a new rule.”

I hoped he didn’t try to kiss me again, that would be bad. As in, ‘okay, let’s go to your place’ bad.

“I think you’d enjoy it,” he said.

“Yeah,” I told him. “I probably would. But there you go. You need to learn there are boundaries, and you need to respect them.”

He held up his hands.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Goddamn, but you got some fight in you.”

He got an evil glint.

“We could just go back to your place,” he said. “Surprise Sam. I bet he’d be all for the three of us getting freaky.”

That was actually tempting, and if I could have trusted him for a normal threesome, whatever that was. I’d have gone for it. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of just dropping him like a bomb on Sam.

I wasn’t ready to do another cuck session. As hot as it was, it was just too dark. I wasn’t sure I liked the things it brought out of me, and I definitely didn’t like what it did... what I did... to Sam.

“No,” I said, “No fucking way.”

What the hell was I going to do with him? Ideally, just run him off on his own. With a sinking feeling, I realized that when I’d blown off my girlfriends to get him away from them, I’d also given them, and more importantly him, the clear impression that I’d chosen him. No matter what happened, he was going to stick to me like glue. He thought he had an invitation now. Fuck, if I dropped him, he’d probably get all pouty and cranky.

Fuck me! Okay, Kayley, ignore that throbbing clit, and those damp panties. Think. How do we handle this?

“You know what? You ruined my girls night out,” I told him. “Fine, we’ll hang out, go drinking or whatever. One drink, that's all. You owe me a night out, Mister. Let’s just go someplace. Maybe that strip club you took Sam to. Then I’m going home... alone.”

“He told you about that?” He seemed amused.

“He told me enough,” I said bravely.

Leroy stared me down, I stared back defiantly. He stepped forward a half step, as if to embrace me. I backed away a half step, holding up my hand.

He shrugged.

“That sounds good,” he said. “We’ll hang for a bit, have some drinks and call it a night.”

Victory. I felt good, despite him coming on strong, I hadn’t caved in. I’d recovered, stood my ground and won. His bullshit games had thrown me, but despite surprise and arousal, I had come out on top. I’d set the terms and he’d settled. I heaved a massive sigh of relief.

Leroy, we’d found, had this constant drive to dominate, to be on top of every situation. It was beyond sexual, it bordered on narcissism. It made him bold and sexy as hell. It’s a turn on for a man to nakedly want you, and just as nakedly act on it. But it’s also frustrating and tiresome. Like, give it a rest once in a while, it gets tedious. But he was unnervingly good at seduction, and I tended to give in more than I should.

But I’d done it, I’d set boundaries and enforced them. Oddly, it made me less angry with him. The idea of a Leroy less determined to be on top, more willing to just be?

“You know,” I said, “it won’t be so bad just to hang out. I think it would be really nice to get to know each other.”

He nodded.

“Sure,” he said, he offered his arm, and I took it.

"If a hotel room is too far," the hostess said, "there are some relatively clean back alleys... "

The hostess was watching us with her cool superiority. She was tall, with angular features, like a high bred model. For a second, I wanted to grab his junk, or stick my tongue in his mouth, and then look directly at her and smirk. Bitch.

Impulsively, I lifted up on my toes and kissed his cheek as we walked out.

Probably wore granny panties.

Nah...

I bet she got off on trailer park porn. All these high end thoroughbred types, they just love the gutter. She probably has all kinds of weird looking freaky dildos.

Of course, Claire was coming around the corner and spotted us. I waved as we departed, and hoped that she didn’t talk to the Hostess.

Luckily, there were cabs waiting at the hotel across the street, so we just crossed over and grabbed one. The driver was a dark skinned turban man.

“Where to?” I asked. “Some skeevy strip club.”

“Maybe later,” Leroy said, patting my thigh, just at the edge of my skirt.

He was incorrigible, it was almost flattering. Being physically away from the other girls, took some of the stress off. It had really thrown me the way these two aspects of my life had collided. My friends didn’t need to know this part of my life. I let his hand remain on my thigh, instead, I looked at him, meeting his eyes.

“You may have enjoyed that,” I said, with as much chill as I could muster. “And you may have thought you got what you wanted, so it’s okay.”

He was smiling.

“But I didn’t enjoy that. I didn’t appreciate it,” I told him sternly. “And I don’t want you to do it again. Ever.”

He gave me his sleazy grin, but I wasn't having it. I just stared him down. As aroused as I was, he'd fucked around too much, he'd crossed lines. I wasn't off balance any more, and I wasn't happy with him.

Slowly, the smile disappeared.

“Sorry,” he said with appropriate contrition.

We both looked down at his hand on my skirt. Damn, I should batted it away. Too late now. I didn’t take it off, I didn’t brush him off, he didn’t try to move it further.

“I do like the sweater,” he said, in a conciliatory way.

“Thanks.”

I looked out the window, hoping he would read the room.

“Do either of you have a destination,” the cab driver asked. We both jumped a little.

“Sure,” Leroy said. He rattled off an address. It sounded vaguely familiar.

“Where’s that?” I asked.

“Some place I think you’ll like,” he said. “Not a strip club. A quiet little bar, it’s got live music now and then. A nice feel. We can hang out there, relax a little. We can move on later if you’d like. We can go to the 'skeevy' strip club. Even the one Sam and I went to, if you want to see it. I’ll buy you lap dances.”

I nodded.

“Not directly? That's not your usual sleaze.”

It came out a little harder than I'd meant.

“I get the feeling you’re a little annoyed with me,” he said. “So... low key to start. I don’t need you tearing a strip off me in a strip club.”

I laughed, not much, but I laughed. I looked out the window, watching as the cab moved into traffic. Leroy’s hand remained on my skirt. He wasn’t backing off. But he wasn’t moving forward either. Stalemate. He understood that I was annoyed with him. But he hoped to ingratiate himself. Well, let him try, he owed me.

The cab moved on, leaving the restaurant behind. As it traveled each block, turned each corner, the world changing around us, I relaxed a little more.

“Hey,” he whispered to me, nodding towards the driver. I glanced at the turbaned man in the front seat. The license displayed a fierce eyed bearded man and the name Rahul Singh. I leaned in towards him, so he could whisper some secret confidence into my ear.

“Remember when Sam was driving us back from the restaurant,” his voice murmured softly. I turned my head towards him. And then he kissed me, bringing one hand smoothly up to cup my cheek, holding me in place.

Aw shit! I thought. He got me. I was overbalanced leaning towards him, and so fell into the kiss, unable to right myself to pull away. The kiss was slow burning, gentle but openly sexual. He brought up his other hand to hold my head, trapping me.

My heart was speeding up, I was feeling butterflies all over my stomach, I blushed hot, but between my legs I was wet. I felt weak and watery, as if all my strength was draining away. And through it all, he held my head and slow kissed my, teasing my lips apart, the kiss going on and on.

After a moment, I put my palm on his chest and pushed him back a little. Be strong, Kayley, I told myself. At least his hand was off my thigh. My body thrilled with excitement, with the sense of being bad. This was a safe kind of bad though, no one but the cab driver to watch us, some place where he couldn’t get too out of hand.

I smiled slightly. God, he was incorrigible. And even worse, it was kind of sexy.

“You’re bold,” I said.

“Dangerous?”

I shook my head.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I told him. “Not here.”

“So what’s the harm?”

The relationship was more balanced, he respected my boundaries. I felt stronger. Even a little playful. Why not? What was the harm, after all?

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” I said, my trace of a smile broadened.

“Teasing?”

“Maybe.” I was definitely smiling.

“So this is a red light green light sort of thing.”

He put a hand on my thigh, fingertips just under my skirt. I ignored it.

“That’s a good way to put it,” I replied.

“So,” he asked, “where are we now?”

His fingertips danced just under my skirt, up and down, pressing lightly, not advancing, not retreating.

“Green light,” I said, and leaned in. Our lips met and we kissed, softly at first, lips pressing, teasing each other, breaking and then joining. We both knew the game, building slowly. I was acutely aware of his fingertips, creeping millimeter by millimeter up my skirt. The kisses grew in intensity, our mouths opening slightly, breathing in each other in and out.

As a particularly long kiss broke, he moved in, and instead of returning to the kiss, darted towards my neck, nibbling my earlobe. I felt his teeth against my earing, tickling me. He licked my neck, at the same moment cupping my breast and squeezing. I giggled with pleasure, but pushed him back.

“Red light?”

“Red light,” I gasped. “I don’t want us to distract the cab driver and cause an accident.”

“I am a very good driver, Miss,” the cabbie said. “You need not fear an accident.”

I blushed slightly, both my and Leroy’s eyes darted to the back of his head.

“Were you watching?” I asked.

“No Miss,” he replied. “I drive. I am very disciplined.”

“We were being a little naughty,” I said. “I hope that’s not disrespectful.”

Leroy’s hand was on my breast, I took it off.

“No Miss,” he said. “You are not the first to be ... playful. What goes on in the back of my cab stays in the back of my cab.”

Leroy’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked at me.

“So you don’t mind,” he asked, “if we get a little frisky?”

“Not at all, Sir.”

“What about a lot frisky?”

“I just drive,” Rahul said.

Leroy looked at me.

“Sounds like a green light situation,” I said.

“Rahul,” Leroy said, staring at me. “The destination... can you take us the long way round?”

I grinned. Barring teeth.

“How long a way round?” he asked.

“We’ll let you know,” I said.

“Very good.”

“And Rahul...”

“Yes, Miss?”

“If we become distracting,” I said, “too distracting, just let us know.”

“I will not be distracted,” he said. “I am a professional. But if you are excessively inappropriate, I will speak.”

That was that, I tuned Rahul out, not ignoring him, but not focusing on him. Instead, my gaze locked on Leroy, his eyes were shining and hungry, and something else, eager and excited. God, what a one track mind. It was sexy, but it also made me feel superior.

“Definitely,” I said, “I’m flashing back to that drive.”

It had been exciting, the prospect of making out in the back seat of a moving car. There’d been a naughty adventurousness to it, constrained by the worry over my Sam in the front seat, worried that we might upset him, or that we might excite him to distraction.

“Feels like unfinished business,” he said.

“It does,” I whispered.

I leaned back a little. He leaned forward, slipping a hand under my sweater, I felt his palm on the bare flesh of my belly. He moved up. My lips pursed, and he kissed me. Very slowly, as we kissed, our mouths opened and our tongues met.

Our bodies pressed together, one leg almost folding under me, my knee almost a barrier between us, preventing us from closing in. I ran my hands along his chest and arms. He held my head with one hand, and pushed his other hand up under my sweater. I was acutely conscious of my sweater lifted, exposing bare skin if Rahul was watching. He cupped my breast over my bra, squeezing, and then slid down and pushed up under the cup to feel my bare breast.

I broke the kiss, gasping, and he took advantage, licking the underside of my jaw with these tight wet kisses, working his way down my neck, I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him towards me.

“Oh, that feels good,” I moaned. “Oh, what you’re doing feels good.”

His hand left my bared breast, the bra awkwardly twisted, to run down the bare skin of my ribs and belly, across my skirt to my knee. Then slid back up, pushing my skirt up my thigh, returning under my sweater, squeezing my nipple as he kissed me deeply. I kissed back hungrily, my mouth open, my tongue pushing back against his.

I straightened up, running my hands along his body. I wanted to feel under his clothes the same way he was feeling me. Tugging at the back of his shirt, I pulled it, until I could feel the bare skin and muscle at the small of his back, the beginning of the curve of his butt.

Leroy pushed the other cup of my bra up over my breast, now with both hands under my sweater. I sighed with relief, at least my bra, now riding up above my breasts wasn’t uncomfortably twisted around me. His hands on my nipples felt good. We kissed, my hands moving upwards, fingertips tracing his spine.

“Take off your bra,” he whispered.

“I can’t,” I said.

“Just take it off,” he demanded.

Oh fuck it, I thought. I pushed him back, straightening up and leaning away from the seat, reaching behind me to undo the clasps. I couldn’t reach, he’d pushed it up to high. I reached overhead behind me.

“Here, let me,” he said, moving on me, reaching under the sweater, his mouth locking on mine. I felt him undo the hooks The bra fell loose, awkwardly hanging around my shoulders.

“Hold on,” I whispered, pushing him back again. “Okay.” I reached into my sweater, pulling the strap down one arm, the folds of wire and cloth cupping around my chest, then slid one arm up an opposite sleeve and pulled the whole thing out.

“I always love it when women do that,” he said. “It’s like a magic trick.”

“Ta da!” I said. “Presto! Watch what I pull out of your pants later! It won’t be a rabbit, but I’ll still love petting it!”

We both glanced towards the driver, but he gave no sign of hearing us.

Leroy looked down.

“Wow!”

“Yeah,” I said, “that’s why I have to wear a bra with this sweater. Angora does something crazy to my nipples.”

“They’re really poking,” he said. It wasn’t just my nipples jutting through the soft weave, the angora clung to my breasts, vividly emphasizing their shape. He put his hands on my sweater, fondling my breasts through it. I sighed and squirmed.

“Feels good?” He whispered, licking my collarbone, working his way with little laps up my throat. “I love feeling it.”

“Fuck,” I breathed. It was like he was wearing angora mittens, it was soft and subliminally scratchy and exquisite, my skin was tingling. “Fucking yes.”

I swallowed. “Sometimes with Sam... I’d wear this sweater inside out.”

He chuckled. I leaned in and kissed him, pulling him towards me, one hand running up his back under his shirt. I wanted to press myself against him and squirm. He pushed me back against the seat, almost looming over me, his body pressing beside me. I leaned my head back against the top of the car seat, my mouth opening to receive his kiss, back arching to thrust my breasts forward, my knees parting.

His hand slid down my breasts along the angora sweater, moving from one to the other, then down across the sweater’s weave. For a moment his palm seated on the bare exposed skin of my belly just above my skirt. Then, almost playfully, his fingers skip down my waste, dancing across the fabric of the skirt, down one thigh, past the skirt tickling bare leg, almost all the way to my knee. It stopped, palm raised, fingertips perching on my knee.

Leroy broke the kiss then, letting the palm descend until it was flat on my knee, the fingers curling around. He stared into my eyes, as I looked up at him, breathing softly. He moved his hand up inside my knee, pulling my legs a little wider. My breath caught in my throat but I made no objection.

He kissed me then, a tight little kiss, lips closed, lasting only an instant. His hand began moving up the inside of my thigh. I felt myself opening involuntarily. He kissed again, and his hand moved higher. And another kiss, a succession of small tight kisses, lips pressing and then lifting, as he moved higher and higher, up inside. My skirt rode up, I could feel the fabric bunching around his wrist, like the wake behind a boat, as his hand proceeded relentlessly to its destination.

I gasped loudly as the meat of his hand collided with my panties, pressing slowly into the wet fabric. My thighs trembled, swung together and then swung open.

He lifted his head up from me and stared down between my legs, the sight hidden by the folds of my skirt. I lifted my head to look down.

He turned to look at me, his expression pretend-stern. He shook his head.

“You’re wearing panties,” he said. “You know what I told you about wearing panties around me?”

He was playing dom. Not harsh dom, but sexy pretend dom. I found myself wanting to play, to take the role he was offering. Why not?

My pussy clenched, sending wetness surging against the delicate cloth. His fingers wrapped around the gusset of my panties, I felt bare knuckles against my pussy lips, the movement opening them, my slickness wetting his hand. For a moment, I thought he’d rip them off my body like he had before, but instead, he waited, the knuckles rolling slowly under my panties.

“You remember? Don’t you.”

I was swimming in arousal, my whole body in heat. Play the role, the idea spread like heat. His knuckles pressed into my pussy, inviting me, coaxing me. My thighs parted slightly, he smiled a little, acknowledging my cooperation. I gave him the faintest nod. My mind raced with options. Repeat the order, apologize, explain, invite. I settled on a little girl voice.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my words tremulous and high pitched. “I didn’t expect to see you. I was with my girlfriends. I thought it was okay. I know I can’t wear panties around you.”

“I see,” he said, still mock-stern. “But you’re still wearing them now?”

“I... I...,” I breathed, “I should take them off?”

Oh god, I was so fucking wet it was unbelievable. His knuckles were already slick. I could feel my lubrication sliding from my vagina, down the crack of my ass, beginning to dampen my skirt.

“I think that would be wise.” He nodded, removing his hand.

“Oh... Okay!” I said in my best little girl voice, all high pitched and tremulously vulnerable. Little girl on thin ice, obeying daddy. It wasn't role play, nothing so distinct as role play. It was more a ... dynamic. A playful, naughty dynamic.

I’d completely forgotten I was in a moving cab, that there was a driver in front. I was completely swallowed by the moment.

Carefully, keeping my gaze locked on his as he looked down on me, my lower lip girlishly trembling, my eyes wide and liquid, I reached down with both hands, hiking my skirt at my hips. I hooked my thumbs into the sides of my panties. Carefully, bracing with my feet and shoulders, I lifted my ass ever so slightly, pulling the panties down off my hips. As I settled down, the panties slid under my ass.

Then I lifted my thighs, raising my feet and pulling my calves against the edge of the seat, my knees coming together. I slid my panties down my thighs, past the fabric of my skirt. I leaned forward to slide them further, but Leroy put a hand on my chest, easing me back against the car seat.

Without a word, I felt his hand glide down my chest, across the angora. Then further, the feel of a light touch across my skirt. I felt a tug, the panties tightening around the outside of my thighs. Releasing my hold on them, I felt them tugged further and further down towards my knees.

Without breaking eye contact, Leroy shifted position. The panties moved across my knees, now suddenly loose. They seemed to fall free around my calves. I lifted one boot. Another tug. Leroy shifted position again, holding my gaze. Another tug and I knew they had slipped off the heel and then the toe of my boot. A gentle tap of on my knee, and I lowered my foot as Leroy slid back into position.

“There,” he said, looking down on me. My head laid back on the seat, looking up. “Doesn’t that feel better.”

His fingers curled around my thigh, the gentlest pressure making my hips arch and legs open like a flower towards the sun. His hand began its inexorable, welcome progress down the inside of my smooth thigh.

“Yes Sir,” I whispered, my breath was coming in little pants of excitement. “That feels better. It feels ever so much better.”

“Good girl,” he said. His head lowered, his lips brushed mine as he spoke.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered back, immersing in the role, my lips brushing his. I tried to lift my head to kiss him, but he teased, lifting away.

His hand was so close to my pussy I could feel the heat of him, could almost feel his touch.

“Uh, uh,” he whispered. “Are you sure you deserve a kiss? You were a very bad girl, wearing panties.”

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” I lilted in little girl voice. “I know I was bad, but I took them off. I want to be a good girl.”

“You want to be good?”

“I want to be a very good girl.”

“Good girls do what they’re told.”

“I want to do what I’m told, Sir. I want to do whatever you tell me, so I can be a good girl.”

He smiled and lowered his face over mine, his mouth open. I closed my eyes, feeling his lips brush lightly against mine. My tongue flickered out wantonly, but he was gone again.

“Anything?”

I shivered. Anything? That was reckless. Even dangerous. My heart sped up.

“Anything,” I whispered.

“Promise?”

His eyes bore down on me, cold like a hawk, seeing everything, clinical, in control. And just behind that, hunger like a wolf.

I was so excited I almost couldn't breathe.

“I promise.”

His head descended towards my waiting lips, we touched, and as his kiss settled over me, pressing harder and harder, his tongue possessively invading my mouth, his hand settled between my legs, cupping my vagina. My thighs parted, submitting to his touch. The palm of his hand pressed against my clit and two fingers slid up inside me, as if settling onto a familiar saddle.

I gasped loudly, my whole body squirming, as the kiss went on, and he piled my heat higher and higher to the edge of orgasm.

Then he broke the kiss, his lips moving away. For a moment strings of saliva connected us, and broke away as I gasped. His fingers slid out of me.

“Oh!” I was gasping like a fish, breathless and gulping air. “Oh! Oh! Oh fuck!”

“Did you like that?” he asked.

I nodded. I reached for his hand and tried to guide it back between my legs, lifting my knee to ease his access. He let me bring him to my pussy, resisting at the last minute.

“Better than your boring old girlfriends?”

I nodded.

“What would they say if they saw you right now?” he teased.

“Fuck them,” I whispered, half in frustration. I was horny, I wanted to just play, to be touched and teased. But he had his own games, he needed to have his ego stroked. I knew them enough to tell him what he wanted to hear. “They’d be so jealous.”

Give him what he wanted, he'd give me what I wanted.

“What about Sam?” he asked. “What would he say?”

“He... he’d tell you to put your fingers back and...”

“And?”

A tiny bit of resentment flared, and died drowned by the quivering wetness in my pussy. Give him what he wanted, and he'd give me what I wanted.

“He’d jerk off while he watched you finger me.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Do you want me to put my fingers back and finger you?”

“Yes please!” I whined, I pulled at his hand, but he wasn’t moving.

“I don’t know that I should,” he teased. “You had a lot of attitude back there.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whispered with appropriate contrition.

He glanced towards the front of the cab.

“How are we doing, Rahul?” Leroy asked loudly.

Fuck! My knees slammed together automatically and my heart leaped up into my throat. I’d forgotten completely about Rahul. I’d forgotten where we are, had become so enured to the gentle motion of the cab, the occasional turns and stops, that remembering where I was had become like a shock of cold water.

“Excellent, Sir,” Rahul said. “Ready to proceed to destination?”

Leroy sucked air through his teeth. He pulled away from my hand, pushing up my sweater to expose my breast as he toyed with my nipple. Slyly, I slid my left hand between my legs, parting just enough to give access.

“Not just yet,” he said. “We’re not distracting you? Are we? You’re fine?”

“No, Sir,” Rahul said. “I am a professional driver. I don’t get distracted.”

“Very good,” Leroy replied. He released my breast to lift my hand from my clitoris. “You don’t mind if we continue to play?”

I slid my right hand down toward my pussy, like a naughty girl being sneaky. But he caught that. In catching it, he released my left, and I slid down. He pushed his hand over my vagina, curling his hand as he cupped it, keeping my clit and lips from contact. I whined loudly, not caring that Rahul was in front of us, beating my hands lightly over his.

“As I’ve said, Sir," the Cabby, Rahul repeated.

“You hear that, Kayley,” he said. “We can do anything.”

His curled hand straightened, The sudden pressure on my clit made me gasp, and then I gasped again as two fingers slid up unerring towards my g-spot. I tried to hump, my orgasm was so close, but the fingers withdrew, the hand pressed down, teasing.

“Would you like to see her tits, Rahul?” he asked.

“Kayley?” He looked at me. “You would show Rahul your tits, if I told you, wouldn’t you.”

He ground my clit, and my back arched, and I moaned.

“That would be gracious, Sir,” Rahul said. “We are approaching a yellow traffic light. It is about to turn red. That would be an appropriate moment.”

“What about her cunt?” Leroy asked. His fingers slid inside me, working me towards orgasm, and again denying. I was going mad, tugging at his wrist, rolling my hips.

“I would not refuse the sight,” Rahul replied calmly.

The cab was slowing down, presumably approaching the traffic light.

Leroy kissed me, his tongue slipping quickly between my lips and withdrawing just as rapidly.

“Do you want to come?” he said. “Then when we stop, show him your tits, and really show him, and you’ll have until the light turns green, to come on my fingers.”

His sudden grin was devilish.

“How do you like my red light green light?” he whispered.

The cab pulled up to a stop. Casually Rahul adjusted his mirror. I saw his eyes in it, looking at me. Leroy flexed the heal of his palm against my pussy. Obediently, I pulled my angora sweater up to my arm pits, and higher, exposing my breasts. Two fingers slipped up inside me, massaging my g-spot.

“Don’t just show him,” Leroy ordered, “put on a show. Work it. Give him those slutty bedroom eyes. Lick your lips, show a little tongue.”

I obeyed, wantonly, both ashamed and excited. The eyes in the mirror stared as I posed and preened. Tucking my sweater under my chin, I put my hands under my breasts, lifting them, as if offering.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. “Pull on those nipples for him, imagine him sucking them, biting them. Doesn’t that turn you on.”

Obediently, I pulled my nipples hard, working and playing with my breasts, as he fingered me. I was so close, I was so fucking close, but it just wouldn’t come. I rocked my hips on his hand, but it felt like the fingers slipped away from my g-spot, the pressure on my clit not quite right. I deep moaning whining noise slid from my throat.

The eyes vanished from the mirror. The cab lurched into motion, The fingers slid from me, the hand fell away. I reached down as if to finish myself. But he caught both my wrists in his hands, and kissed me passionately.

“Green light,” he told me, as I gasped, captive in his grip.

“You bastard,” I whispered. “I could have come!”

“If I’d let you,” he smiled. “But you’ll have to do more than to earn your orgasm.”

“You bastard!” I whispered.

“Careful,” he warned.

He leaned back in the seat, guiding my hand to his erection. Knowing what he wanted without having to be told, I turned on my side, unzipping him and reaching in.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Rahul interrupted. “I cannot allow her to perform oral sex on your penis or engage in any equivalent activity in the vehicle.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly embarrassed, I went hot all over my skin with blushing. My hand was inside his pants.

“I cannot allow an exposed erection in my cab,” he said. “That constitutes a gross indecency, a prohibited act for which I could lose both my cab and driver’s license. My apologies.”

“An exposed erection,” he explained, “is very easy to spot and almost impossible to quickly conceal, and thus an intolerable risk. Please understand my position.”

“Even if it is all the way down her throat?” Leroy asked. “Completely hidden?”

“Especially so, Sir,” Rahul explained. “There is no mistaking such an act, or evading consequences.”

“Hmm,” Leroy said conversationally, “this is interesting. But Kayley here showed her tits.”

“She sat low,” he explained. “It was not immediately obvious. And she could easily pull down her top in an instant. In any case, the consequence of bare breast, quickly concealed, is substantially different.”

“What if she was naked?”

“That would be awkward,” Rahul said. “It would be preferable that she retain a top.”

“Her skirt?”

“She is free to remove that, but must put it on before leaving the cab.”

“And if I finger her?”

“I believe you have already done so,” he said. “But, provided that it is undertaken with appropriate discretion, that is an act difficult to observe, easily concealed and discontinued quickly. You appreciate the significance of these factors?”

“I do,” Leroy said. “So if I ordered her to remove her skirt?”

“I am a simple cab driver, Sir,” Rahul said, “it is none of my business.”

Leroy leaned back thoughtfully, staring at the back of Rahul’s head.

“Thank you, Rahul. You will warn us the next time we approach a red light?”

“Of course Sir.”

“Next time... turn on the dome light.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

Leroy turned to look at me, his expression evil. My hand slid out of his pants, he lifted his hips, adjusting his cock, and zipped up. As horny as I was, I was a little amused that he had this boundary placed on him. I hadn't done it, but I enjoyed his frustration. I could play, but he couldn't.

“Well?” he said.

I turned on my hip, and unzipped my skirt, wriggling it down my ass, and off my calves. The car leather plastic car seat stuck to my butt, so I used my skirt to sit on. I noticed my panties still clinging around the ankle of my right boot, so I pulled them off and tucked them in my skirt. Except for my boots, I was naked from the waist down.

And quivering, and submissive, and breathless, and very very wet, caught up entirely in the moment.

Leroy laid his hand on my stomach possessively, and I simply spread my legs. He kissed me, and I returned the kiss passionately, wrapping my arms around him. His fingers dipped to tease my clitoris and then slipped away, leaving me moaning in my throat.

“I must caution,” Rahul interrupted, “please do not discharge fluids within the back seat. I refer principally to vomit or urine, for which I have great faith that there is no risk with either of you. But I must also warn against female squirting or excessive discharge of any kind. This cab is my livelihood, and while I am happy to put it to your service, I would prefer it not be abused.”

“I see,” Leroy said, breaking the kiss. “What about semen or just cunt juice.”

“Minor discharges,” Rahul replied, “should be disposed of by the guest, and any odor is usually dispensed with an open window. Disrespectful excess, however... There are stains, there are smells. Detailing is expensive and time consuming, and perhaps never complete, and while waiting, I lose out on business.”

“I see,” Leroy said. He looked at me. His hand slid between my legs, finding me wet and inviting two fingers slipped up. I leaned back against the passenger door, lifting one leg as he massaged my g-spot again. “Our Kayley here is a bit of a squirter. Not always, but now and then, when sufficiently aroused and under the right conditions.”

“I would advise against that,” Rahul said.

“You hear that Kayley?” Leroy asked me. “You don’t want to disrespect Rahul by squirting do you?”

His fingers moved hard, I moaned and grabbed his wrist, but he held in place, not quite letting me go over.

“Well?”

“No,” I said, so aroused my tongue was falling over itself. Fuck I was so wet it was unbelievable. “I don’t want to disesps... dispes... disrespect Rahul’s cab...”

“You should tell him that,” he said. “And it’s Mister Rahul.”

His fingers slid almost out of me. He batted my hand away from my clit.

“Mister Rahul,” I said, “I promise not to dis... disrespect your cab by squirting... Although I might come.”

“Thank you, Miss Kayley,” Rahul said.

“It’s just Kayley,” Leroy corrected. “Or slut. Or bitch. Or whore. She answers to any of those. Isn’t that right.”

The nasty language made me suck air into my lungs. His fingers moved up towards my clit, making evil little circles. Oh god, he was so fucking evil. It left me breathless.

“That’s right,” I whimpered.

“Kayley, then,” Rahul agreed. “We are coming up to a light in the distance. It may turn amber.”

Leroy grinned.

“Hear that,” he said, continuing his teasing. “If it turns, I want you to show him your pussy. Give him a really good view. And as an incentive, I’ll let you play with yourself. You’ll have until the light changes to make yourself come.”

He lifted his fingers to my mouth, they were shiny wet from my pussy, and slipped them between my lips. I sucked them obediently.

His lips met mine, and we kissed, while his hand slid down to fondle my breasts through my sweater. Without him seeing, I slipped my fingers between my legs. The traffic light did not turn, and despite slowing, the cab rolled through.

The vehicle turned, moving up another street. It was almost bright inside the car, despite night, due to the streetlights. Cars passed us going in the opposite direction, others in adjacent lanes, moved with us, sometimes crawling ahead or falling behind. A lane merged, and we were driving through a restaurant district. Leroy broke the kiss, reaching down to displace my hand, fingering me lightly, as we drove by people walking together along the street. There was something exciting and surreal about it, the signs, the neon, the outdoor patios, a couple walking a dog, teenagers flirting on a street corner. Through it all I floated, naked from the waist down, legs spread wantonly, while Leroy alternately thumbed my clit or edged fingers up inside me.

“It gets you off, doesn’t it?” he asked, almost reading my mind.

I turned, snuggling with my back against him, legs wide, one boot propped up against the passenger door, knee bent, so that full access to my pussy was offered. He took advantage, slipping two fingers, occasionally gently stroking my g-spot. I pulled his free hand around me, pushing it up under my sweater, to cup my breast. He nibbled the back of my ear.

“What does?” I asked. I wanted him to say it. I wanted to hear it.

“Naked in public. On display. Getting fingered. All those people out there, all those cars going by, none of them know what you’re doing. What I’m doing to you. Even if they looked, they wouldn’t know. All they’d see is a guy and a girl in the back of a cab.”

“Go on,” I demanded with a whispering hiss, getting off on his words. I squirmed against his fingers inside me and and aaannnnndddd arched my back, to push my breasts against his hand.

“They don’t realize you’re an almost naked slut getting fingered, showing yourself off to the cab driver and any stranger lucky enough to be in the right place and time to look down. They don’t realize how fucking wet and horny you are. How you’ll do anything.”

“I think,” I said, “if someone in an SUV or a truck or even a minivan pulled up and they looked down at the right time... they’d see your fingers in my pussy.”

“Oh they would,” he agreed. “And you’d love it.”

“I would.”

Oh fuck, I really would! Just the thought...

I looked out at the street, at people on sidewalk patios, and cars driving by. His voice was hot in my ear.

“Because you’re an insatiable little whore,” he said.

“I am,” I purred. I reached down, pushing on his hand, and he let me fuck myself on his fingers.

“You don’t want people to know what you really are,” he told me.

I moaned.

“But some part of you, really needs to show them.”

“Oh yes,” I whispered. I squirmed against his hard masculine body, loving the feel of it against me.

“That’s why you wanted to go to the strip club,” he said. “You don’t want to just see it. You want to do it.”

“Mmm...”

“And why you were so hot to get me away from your friends... before you were exposed to them as the whore you really are.”

“Yeah,” I moaned. I wished he wouldn’t talk about them. But oh god, the memory of his kissing me in front of them, shoving his tongue in my mouth. The must have been shocked. In my mind, I replayed and revised the moment, more and more submissively, Leroy more aggressively, as their eyes widened with astonishment. If he'd put his hand up my sweater then, pushed under the bra and felt my breast in front of them. If he'd lifted my skirt... if he'd done it, and I hadn't been wearing panties and they'd seen everything! They'd know!

“You weren’t afraid of me telling them...” he whispered. What was he talking about? I started to get butterflies in my stomach, my heart speeding up in trepidation. Where the fuck was he going with this?

“You were afraid that if I was there,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot and moist, his lips pressing, his teeth nibbling the back of my ear, “you wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself. You would have told them... Or shown them... just how much of a whore you were.”

I stiffened, my body tensing, as if surging toward orgasm. His words matched my sudden fantasy, and it was like I was suddenly inflamed. The sound of his voice, his gravelly drawl, the filthy words and images merged, leaving me gasping.

“Oh god!” I whimpered, my pussy tightened around his fingers, but they were so slick and wet that I couldn’t resist their movement. I tried to pull away from him, but he pulled me back.

Outside the world continued to pass by, unconcerned. Inside, I was hot, wet quivering fire. It was true, it was false, it was horrible, it was wild.

“How would you have done it?” he whispered. “Would you have told them? What would you have said?”

I imagined their eyes wide in shock and excitement as the confessions spilled out, each sentence filthier and more depraved coming faster, wilder. I couldn't speak, but I didn't need to. The words rushed around in my head, like birds escaping their cage, flying around a room, incoherent, wanton, perverse, strings of wanton depravity, lurid confessions or boasts, each filthier than the last.

“Would you have shown them?”

Again, my imagination ran wild. I imagined him feeling me up in front of them, riding on his lap, kissing him wantonly. I imagined the five of us in some dark corner, him standing and grinning at them, the three of them squirming with embarrassment and arousal as I slid slowly to my knees, worshipfully pulling his cock out and sucking it.

I wouldn’t have done that, wouldn’t have done anything like that.

But the idea, the fantasies he triggered, sent me wild and only his careful touches and denials kept me from coming. If anyone on the street had been watching carefully, they would have seen a woman on the edge of orgasm.

Fuck, he was so good at winding me up, it was unreal. I was breathless, incoherent, utterly unstrung. I loved what he did to me. I craved it.

“I would have shown them,” I told him, to excite him “I would have touched you, and let you touch me, and they would have figured it out. And the longer it went on, the more we would have touched. I would have kissed you in front of them, so they could see your tongue, licked your fingers like cocks, put your hands under my clothes.”

“What would you have told them?” His voice was tight. I could feel him grinding against my ass. It was my turn.

“I would have told them how we met,” I said, “how I took my panties off and told you, so you could fuck me. How good you fuck me. How you conquered me with your cock, made me your slave, took me as your property.”

“What if they asked about Sam?”

“I would have told them he didn’t matter. You'd made him a cuck. That he just watched and jerked off. That I belonged to you now. Only you.”

I felt his hips push up into me, his fingers involuntarily thrusting deeper, making me gasp loudly.

“They’d have known you were a whore.”

“Your whore,” I said urgently, the wild sexual abandon was utterly overwhelming. “Maybe I need them to know.”

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “You make me so fucking hard. If I could, I’d be fucking you right now.”

Although I was almost out of my mind with lust, I thrilled to that. I could press his buttons too. And knowing that, each time, it made me want to do it more. To say things to arouse him, to wind him up, because it wound me up, our excitement passing back and forth like spit in a kiss, building and building.

We’d left the restaurants and shops and people behind. The buildings were now more nondescript, big boxes and empty lots. The road widened into two and then three lanes on each side. I had no idea where we were.

I wished we could be back, driving among people, that strange semi-exhibitionism had been exhilarating. I wanted to do more of it.

I wanted to do it with Sam. Cleaner, hotter, more uninhibited, without Leroy’s weird baggage. Only Leroy could lead me into this. But now that I was here, I wanted it to be Sam. I had this sudden image of Sam licking my pussy, while we drove. Surely Mister Rahul would allow that.

“We’ll be coming up on a light soon,” Rahul said. I glanced out the front windshield. The road was open and wide and empty. Far off in the distance, there was a green light, like a tiny low hanging star.

Leroy’s fingers slipped almost all the way out of me, as he twisted me around to kiss me hard on the lips.

“Showtime soon, Princess,” he whispered. “Make your Daddy proud!”

Daddy? Ick! It was so creepy out loud. I buried the reaction, and smiled as we dived into another kiss.

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed.

The cab was slowing down, reducing to half speed. I could almost feel the men willing the light to amber.

We kept slowing the closer and closer we approached, I stared in fascination, aroused, wet, full of anticipation, Leroy’s arms around me, his breath along the back of my ear, along my cheek.

Closer. Goosebumps and butterflies. Wanting green, wanting to pass through one more time. Wanting red, wanting to expose and perform. Excited, afraid, eager.

Slower.

The light turned Amber. I gasped loudly.

The cab rolled to a stop. There was no other traffic around, the view was clear and empty. The dome light flickered on. Rahul, or Mister Rahul as Leroy insisted, turned around in his seat, twisting to watch. This time, the mirror wasn’t going to be good enough.

I swallowed. Leroy moved back, giving me space. He reached out, and pulled my sweater up, exposing my breasts, pale and almost translucent under the yellowish radiance of the dome light.

“Go,” he whispered.

Breathless with excitement, I stared directly at Rahul the cab driver, seeing the direction of his eyes, knowing that the last thing he was looking at was my face, I raised my knees up high, my legs bent, spreading myself as wide as I could, my pussy lips on vivid display.

I reached down with both hands and opened myself for him. I could see them shine wetly with the soft illumination of the dome light. Pulling back on my clit hood, my hand tight on my pubic mound, I exposed my clit, and rolled a wet finger all around it. I shivered from head to toe, consumed by the sensual pleasure of touching myself, and the delicious wrongness of exposing myself to a complete stranger, doing it literally outdoors, out in the open, simultaneously private and utterly exposed.

The transgression of my act, in and of itself, was practically orgasmic. I was so wet, so aroused, that I could feel myself dilating, the wetness, the lubrication running down the walls of my pussy, flowing out of me. I stroked my clit rapidly.

“Do you like this?” I asked Rahul. “Are you loving this? Am I making you hard? Are you thinking about slamming that big brown cock deep inside me and filling me with your seed?”

I moaned deeply, digging my fingers in deep and opening myself wide, as if a cock was plunging in me. My thumbs brushed my clit, stroking hard against them. My thighs shook.

“Because I’m thinking about it,” I whispered. “I’m thinking about your cock, what it looks like, what it tastes like, what it would feel like inside me. I’m thinking about you fucking me really hard.”

Oh god, I was so wound up, so tense. I took one hand and slapped my pussy, slapping my clit. The shock waves rippled through me, making me moan, the blood rush to my pubic area, the wild pins and needles sensation brought me.

“I’d let you,” I whispered, my voice hot and hard and brimming with tension. “I’d totally fucking let you. I’m so fucking wet. I’d let you come in me. Maybe you’d knock me up, all that come. I’d let you. You could plant yourself in me, make my belly swell up, fill my breasts with milk, as I carried you in me, give birth to your brown baby. Do you want a boy? Did you want a son? I’d let you keep trying until it was a boy.”

I slapped my pussy again.

“I shave my pussy for men to fuck. I would shave it just for you. Or your friends. You could share my pussy with them. I’d let your friends fuck me. I’d let them come in me. I’d do whatever you wanted. Did you want to take pictures? Now? Take them. You can video me telling you how badly I need to be fucked? Do it. As long as I come. I have until the light changes to come, and I want to come right in front of you.”

I moaned wildly, my body writhing. I felt like I was boiling over with sexual energy, that it was spilling out more pores, that I was radioactive with it, glowing hotter and harder than the dome light. I was saying anything and everything.

“I’m so fucking hot right now,” I said. “I need to come so badly. I’ve needed to come all night. He kissed me right in front of my friends in a restaurant, can you believe it. I was so embarrassed, but all I wanted was to come right there. And everything, everywhere we’ve gone, every time he touched me, all I wanted was to come. To come for him. To come in front of him. In front of you. For me, just to come.”

I slapped my pussy. I was so fucking close. Leroy reached up and twisted my nipple so hard I cried out in pain, my body twisted. He pulled one of my hands away from my pussy. I slipped from his grip,

“Look at how fucking hot she is,” he said. “Look at her go. Do you think she can come? Don’t squirt now, bitch. Remember the rules.”

I groaned, my whole body twisting. One leg straightened involuntarily, brushing against the roof of the cab. “Fuck!” I screamed.

Over Rahul’s shoulder, the red light glared at me, egging me on. How long? How long did I have? Leroy was fucking with me, trying to derail my orgasm. But I felt it, like a fucking mountain ready to blow inside me.

I slapped my pussy hard, so hard it hurt. Then I slapped it again, and again. And there it was, this intense white lightning starting to bubble and boil all over me. I could feel my muscles seizing up, my whole body going rigid. Somewhere in there, I realized I couldn’t squirt, and that my body was going to. I’d always just let it go, but this time, I tried to clamp down on it. I could feel myself going red in the face with the effort, the wild energy of the orgasm literally bucking inside me. I dribbled a little anyway. My muscles felt like they were kicking, I bucked spastically.

Then it blew through me. I fell back, panting and spent. The light had already turned green. Rahul turned back to his position in the drivers seat and set the car into gear. As I gasped for breath, I could feel the cab moving forward.

Leroy pulled me towards him, wrapping me protectively in his arms. I let him, feeling like my body was made of water. But deep down, some conscious part of me was thinking: You tried to stop me from coming, you prick. He didn’t want me to come, or at least, not to have an orgasm that wasn’t under his control, with his permission, at his will.

“Good girl,” he said.

The fucker. As I snuggled, there was a little bit of resentment.

“Tell you what, Rahul,” he said. “I don’t think we can take it further. Let’s head to the bar.”

Rahul nodded.

“Right away, Sir,” he said. “From here, perhaps twenty minutes?”

Leroy shrugged.

“I think I’m done,” I said. I was feeling this post-orgasmic languor. The whole cab experience, as exciting and ultimately orgasmic as it was, had been tense and now that tension had burned off.

“All tired, Princess?” Leroy asked. “Tell you what, just come with me for a drink or two, then I’ll send you home to Sam. How’s that?”

I sighed.

“Fine.” Honestly, a nightcap didn’t sound like such a bad thing, as long as he didn’t pull anything. Maybe he wouldn’t. Or if he did, maybe I could just get away with a blow job. Whatever.

I relaxed against him, watching the streetlights go by as we made our way back into the city. Signs and buildings appearing, growing more frequent.

“Hey Rahul,” Leroy called.

“Sir?”

“What about you?” Leroy asked. “I’ve heard cab drivers get all kinds of pussy, drunk sluts, hookers looking for a break. Is that true?”

“I cannot speak for all cab drivers, Sir,” Rahul said politely.

“What about you?” Leroy asked. “Do you ever get your cock sucked while driving cab?”

“Are you speaking of driving,” Rahul asked, “or parked?”

“This is interesting,” Leroy chuckled. He kissed my forehead. “Which do you prefer?”

“Discretion, Sir,” Rahul said. “I prefer discretion.”

“Come on,” Leroy said. “You’ve done it.”

“Such things are best addressed after two in the morning, and only in certain districts or locations.”

“Oh really? Parked or moving?”

“Either.”

“Kayley, here,” Leroy said, “is a great cock sucker. She’s just talented. Wouldn’t you like to have her lips wrapped around your dick?”

Oh fuck, I thought, tiredly. Here he goes. He was ruining my bliss.

“Watch it,” I warned. “Cut it out.”

“Seriously,” Leroy said, “her mouth is like melting butter around your cock. I could make it happen. Do you want it?”

“Leroy! No!” I said.

But what if I did? Even through the annoyance, I felt a stirring. God, the effect he had on me. He was so good at leading me into these things. I squirmed in his arms, arching my back slightly. My knees parted, although not so much anyone would notice.

“Oh come on, Kayley,” he said. “It would be an experience. I bet you’ve never had Pakistani beef.”

“Oh geez,” I whispered, disgusted. He was such a low life, it was almost embarrassing for both me and Rahul. I could imagine him wincing.

As vulgar as it was, he was right. I’d never been with a dark skinned man, would he taste different, feel different? Rahul with his beard and turban, his polite precise manner, was exotic. What would his cock look like? What would it feel like between my lips?

I didn’t particularly want to do it, I decided. But I was oddly comfortable with the thought that somehow he might make me. Not through coercion, but somehow bending my will to his, fanning the fire of my desire and guiding it to wherever or whatever he wanted.

I was vaguely curious, what would his cock be like. I didn't mind blow jobs. I kind of liked them, actually.

Making me want it too. I felt a tingle, a kind of awareness of my clitoris. My legs shifted an inch or two this way and then that, a subtle movement I was only half aware of. But Leroy, it occurred to me, was fully aware, he read me so well.

Was that his secret? That he read me so carefully? That it excited me to be read by him? His attention opened me like a book, his intention spread my pristine pages open to dip his pen and write new passages.

“Sikh,” Rahul corrected, jarring my thoughts.

I’d said no. Was this a contest now, a battle of wills I would inevitably lose? That I would choose to lose, so that I could submit once again?

“We shouldn’t,” I said, pitching my voice a little higher, the little girl voice of earlier.

“Sikh salami,” Leroy laughed. “I bet it’s sick.”

The crassness was obnoxious and discordant, it annoyed me. And it made me more sympathetic to Rahul. Was that deliberate? Was he guiding me towards Rahul’s erection, to the moment that my lips would descend over him, and I would feel him hard and throbbing in my mouth.

Leroy was bad for me. He was definitely bad. And I wanted it. I wanted to see how where he would take me. I needed to know how far he could take me. I was fascinated to see how he would do it.

A Sikh cab driver ejaculating in my mouth, swallowing a complete stranger’s seed as my pussy dripped and I squirmed with need? How would he get me from here to there? To the point where I was willing and eager?

“Sir,” Rahul said, “the night has been remarkable in every way, and satisfactory to the young lady. Perhaps that is sufficient.”

“Oh all right,” Leroy almost pouted, “it’s just talk. We’re too close anyway.”

“In any case,” Rahul said, “we are approaching.”

I shifted position in Leroy’s arms, almost surprised. So blowing the cab driver wasn’t happening. For a moment, I felt disoriented. I had almost come around to the idea, had brought myself to the idea. Disoriented, or disappointed?

“Right,” he said, “take us around the back.”

The cab took a turn off the road, into back alleys, and in a few minutes we pulled into a small parking lot. Pulling on my skirt, I twisted it around until it was fitting right and zipped it. I felt regret at leaving what had become the safe intimate enclosure of the cab, it had become a sensual little world for the three of us, for the raucous, sterile landscape of some tavern.

“About the bill,” Rahul asked. “Cash or credit card.”

“Oh Kayley will take care of it,” Leroy said easily. I glanced at him. Thanks a fucking lot. He smirked at me, like the dick he was. Whatever, I thought.

“Uhm... card.” I couldn’t find my bra, and I definitely wasn’t going anywhere in this sweater without it. Leroy grinned, holding up my underwear. “Can you give me that?”

“Nope,” he said. “Remember the rules, no underwear around me. I think Rahul deserves a souvenir.”

He tossed my panties into the front seat of the cab.

“I need the bra,” I said.

He beamed.

“No you don’t,” he said. “I like that sweater way better without it.”

I rolled my eyes. Always games, with him, and not necessarily fun games. It was always about how much better Leroy was than anyone else. If Sam was playing instead of him, it would have been thrilling, full of dares and surprises. But Leroy’s games were dark and compelling, there was an undertow that dragged you under and swept you along.

“Fine,” I said. “Just give it to me, I’ll put it in my purse.”

The taxi bill came to well over a hundred dollars. Jesus.

So I guess I got screwed by the cab driver after all.