Taxi

We reach the taxi stand around 11 pm. The night is cold but dry, and a handful of taxi drivers is gathered together, smoking and chatting. A few spot us and make to their cars. There's one who can't help but leer at your exposed legs above the high heels - middle-aged, regular looking, not too unkempt. The type who would jump at you and eat you up, given the opportunity. I nudge you in his direction. You obey with barely any reluctance. Good girl.

We exchange a nod with the driver and climb on in on the spacious back seat - you in the center, me on the side opposite to the driver, in his line of sight should he turn towards us. It smells like vanilla air freshener, leather polish and ashtray.

"Where to?"

I state a destination on the other side of town. It's of no importance. The car comes to a smooth roll, motor gently rumbling. One hand steady and reassuring on your bare knee, I keep up a steady stream of light chit-chat with the driver - traffic, the latest road work annoyances, the weather. Traffic moves along well at this time of night. When I unbutton your trenchoat one-handed, it takes the driver a while to notice. I see his startle in the rearview mirror when his gaze lands on your uncovered red lace bra. He stutters in the middle of a sentence, but I don't let that deter me. I tug the trenchcoat down your shoulders, exposing more vulnerable skin. You shiver, but keep your chin up, my brave girl.

"Uhm... What is..." The man's eyes in the rearview mirror are huge, but more curious than apprehensive. Good.

"It's a long ride, I have to take care of her," I answer smoothly. "She needs touch, so very bad."

We hit a red light. I start massaging your breasts, pinching your nipples through the lace.

"Oh?.." the driver eventually lands on, but doesn't look away.

I tug down the bra cups so your breasts spill out over the cloth. "They're very soft," I explain. "And she loves hands on them, isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You lightly hum in agreement, eyes downcast and hands crossed on your lap, the picture of a coy, demure woman with your tits out on full display. But I know how wet you must be getting underneath the trenchcoat.

Now to the moment of truth. "You could pull over on that parking lot over there, if you want to cop a feel," I invite casually. Careful not to put too much heat or insistence in my voice.

The driver's eyes snap towards me. "Are you really... are you fucking with me?" But it sounds more disbelieving than suspicious. I pinch your nipples hard. You make a very soft noise as a result, and the man's eyes land back on your tits, on your shiny mouth. The car behind us angrily honks, the light long turned green. The driver swears and starts us along, somewhat abruptly.

"I'm not. It's merely an offer," I say. "Next one on the right."

The driver swears some more, gaze jumping back and forth between us, and pulls into the parking lot and a secluded corner. He stops the car, and looks at me in the rearview mirror as if expecting instructions, a look of disbelief still in place. Well, then. Bossing around, that I can do. "Go on, touch her," I coaxe. "She won't bite."

He unbuckles his safety belt and twists on his seat, breathing hard. His eyes flicker to your face, before locking firmly on your breasts. He clasps the right one, quick as if the offer's about to expire. He crudely malaxes your tit, eyes bright with greed.

"That's good," I whisper towards the two of you. "Just like this."

He twists your nipple, viciously enough for you to gasp, before slapping your breast so it jiggles.

"Holy shit," the man murmurs, squeezing with ardor.

"Soft, right?" I comment. "You know what else is very soft?"

The driver looks at me, expectant and excited. Of course he can imagine the follow-up.

"Her mouth," I complete the set-up.

The driver's face lights up beautifully. "Fuck, you're for real. This is for real."

I award him a benevolent smile. You're squirming on the leather seat next to me. I know your pussy must be dripping already.

"Darling, do you want to move up front?" I tell you, tucking loose hair behind your ear. Of course, you nod, and I exit the car so you can sit down on the front passenger seat.

The driver doesn't ask any further question, good man. I'm glad of my pick. Merely opens his fly that's already well tented. Pulls out his thick, short dick and grabs for your neck, tugging you down without further delay. I settle in to watch, propped between the two front seats.

"There we go!" I comment, still in that same mild tone. "Enjoy her, she's good at this. Aren't you darling?"

Like a good girl, you obediently swallow down the man's fat cock. He gasps, breath shallow, and urgently pushes you further down. You cough a bit and he grabs a fistful of your hair to tug you up, before quickly lowering you back down.

I pet your back. "Good, right?" I ask the guy as he works up a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down by the hair.

"Fuck," he pants, ignoring me, face contorted as he pushes your face down onto his spit-shiny cock. "Holy fuck!"

"Suck harder, sweetheart," I order. Your eyes search me until I tut. Looking back down, you do as I say, cheeks hollowing, slurping at that cock with determination, and the driver worldlessly shouts.

I laugh gently. "Yeah, very nice, I know. But don't come yet, alright?"

The driver glances at me, overwhelmed, as he continues to use your mouth. "Why?"

"Be-cause," I sing-song, "if you come in her mouth, you won't be able to try out her ass."

It needs a second for that to land. When it does, the man's hips buck up, seemingly of their own accord, and he lets out a low growl. "Oh fuck yeah," he says, warming up to the idea as he watches you slobber on his cock. He lets go of your hair to grab at your ass underneath the coat. "Oh fuck yeah!" he repeats.

"Outside would be better, I think." I'm already exiting the taxi, opening the passenger seat to help you on your feet. I wipe saliva from your swollen lips and look searchingly into your eyes - even in the dark parking lot I can see how turned on you are, and a rapid check of your panties - soaked through - gives the last confirmation. Such a good girl.

The driver is stumbling out of his side of the car, a hand shielding his cock from the cool night air. I guide you into the proper position, hands on the hood, ass up. I helpfully step aside, inviting the driver to step in with a flourish.

After admiring the sight of your ass in the red lace, he casts me a side glance. "You really want me to fuck that bitch, huh. You really want me to."

"Ass only," I rectify. "Her pussy is mine. But yes, go ahead. Fuck her good."

With another swear, the driver tugs your string aside, lines his spit-slick cock up with your asshole and pushes in with a long groan. We've prepped you a bit this afternoon, and the moan that escapes you is genuine. I sit down further up the hood, watching your face as that man fucks your ass raw, watching your breasts sway with the movements.

"Nice," I comment, "She likes that."

The driver grunts, his face twisted with effort as he rams into you over and over. You're bracing yourself in order not to slip, muscles in your shoulder strained, and low noises escape your mouth. I'm tempted to slide into place and feed you my dick, but the sight is too gorgeous to let myself be distracted. The man is gripping your hips tight enough there'll be marks, and the slap of skin against skin is loud despite the background noise of traffic.

"Fuck!" the driver shouts, accelerating his thrusts to a frenzied rhythm. I had hoped for better stamina, but still, not a bad catch for a weekday. I look away from his O-face that's bound to be stupid, looking at your hands where they're pressed hard against the taxi hood. An undignified whine later, the driver's thrusts falter, a few last jerky motions to pump out the rest of his cum. He soon steps back, panting, staring at your leaking ass with an undone expression.

I jump down from the hood and step closer, ignoring his slightly embarrassed, wary face. I stroke down the curve of your ass with an assessing gaze. Just as sloppy as expected, white globs of cum leaking down from your hole. Humming in satisfaction, I fetch the thick steel plug in my pocket and press it in, sealing away the cum. You whimper, but I don't relent until it's fully seated.

Helping you up, I rearrange your underwear and your trenchcoat, buttoning it up, and smooth down your hair. The driver is nervously shifting from one foot to another, the last dregs of wonder slowly receding from his face.

"So, do you, uh, want to get a move on? It's pretty cold out."

"Oh, we're fine. You can go," I say, pulling you into my arms and kissing the top of your head. "Thanks for the ride."

He hesitates. "Are you sure? We're not near your street yet, so do you..."

"We're fine," I repeat firmly. "Good evening."

He stares at us some more, before shaking his head and making a quick escape, muttering under his breath. The red tail lights of the car soon disappear at the corner of the parking lot.

You smile up at me, cheeks pink. The night is still young. "So. Should we call a taxi?"