Adventures of a Chauffeur

When you are out of work you will take any job and put up most things just to keep it. I do not like snobs, people who think they are a cut above everyone else and look down their noses at people they believe are of a lesser order than themselves. These people are usually shits, first class shits and the Chief Executive of the bank was typical of this kind of animal but he wanted a chauffeur and I wanted a job.

"I expect you to be at work on time, I want you there when I want you, when you are taking me anywhere make sure the car is spotlessly clean, inside and out. You always refer to me as Sir, there will be no familiarity. You always wear the uniform during working hours, keep it clean and smart and without exception you polish your shoes until you can see your face in them, have you any questions?"

"No Sir." Well as I said I needed the job.

Sir Alistair Mitchell, was used to being the boss, he expected people to jump when he entered a room and usually they did.

I would pick him up about 7.30am to drive him to the office. The one pleasure I got out of it was driving his Bentley, well apart from the other benefits and perks. I would park the Bentley in the underground car park and after making sure it remained spotlessly clean I would go into the little office, about as big as a broom cupboard, where there was a telephone, in case the boss wanted me, there was also a kettle so I could at least make myself a cup of tea.

Rogers was my name, never Stuart.

"Rogers, I need you to drive me to St. Albans, Rogers, bring the car around to the front entrance, Rogers, Rogers, Rogers. He never sat in the front seat, that would have been far beneath him and he might have felt obliged to talk to me.

Sometimes when he was going abroad I would drive him to Heathrow, help him with his baggage and once the plane had taken off I would drive back to the garage and until he got back I could do much as I liked, and I did. If I used the Bentley I would have to make sure I didn't over use the petrol but there was latitude. What he didn't know about was the fucking that took place on the backseat of his precious Bentley. Chloe, the young office assistant, lost her virginity on the backseat right where he would sit, issuing orders on his phone. Chloe was to be a constant supply of cunt for me, and believe me she had a little corker.

It was a wonder he never asked me what I was doing with a broad smirk on my face as he sat on the very spot where young Chloe's hymen had been popped. I think Chloe had told her friend, Kathleen, who was Mitchell's secretary, and whenever I had to pick up papers from the offices to deliver them somewhere, I always got a wry knowing smile from Kathleen. I tried, on a few occasions, to chat her up but to no avail. Kathleen was married, very attractive redhead, always smartly dressed, she was class. Not class in the Alistair Mitchell sense of the word, she was just class in every sense of the word. She dressed class; she looked class, she walked class, she had to be class to hold down a job as Mitchell's secretary. She had the loveliest tits, but not a hint of nipple through her blouse, the cheeks of her arse moved rhythmically in her tight, black skirt as she floated effortlessly around the offices and the clickety click of her high heels made all the male heads turn. The seam of her black stockings seemed to point the way to delights the very thought of which made me drool and have mouth-watering thoughts.

One thing I had going for me that Mitchell, with all his wealth and undoubted ability, will never have is the simple fact that women are attracted to me. Why I don't really know but they see something and I am not going to try to analyse it. I have never gone short of pussy and unlike lots of other men I don't do the chasing. That's what annoyed me about Kathleen, she wasn't interested in me and it made me want her all the more and I had to resist the impulse to chase her pussy, a sure way to make sure I never got it. She was a challenge no red-blooded male could resist.

Another of my duties was to drive the CEO and his family to their retreat, a log cabin hidden away in the woods and leafy glades of the Cotswolds. I had the keys and it was my job to go there a few days in advance and make sure it was clean and tidy, well stocked with food and wine and chopped-wood for the log fire. Sometimes, once the log fire was blazing, I would sit on the sofa and imagine I had Kathleen on the white sheepskin rug stretched in front of the hearth. As I visualized Kathleen with her knees wide apart I would unzip my fly and flip out my cock. It didn't take long to fill my handkerchief.

On such occasions I would return to pick up Mitchell and his wife, Janet, at their London home, in Bayswater and sometimes his daughter, Lucinda would come along when she wasn't at college. Janet seemed rather reserved, certainly in the presence of her husband, but Lucinda was a giggly, effervescent, fun-loving young woman about 19 years of age, but actually looked younger, they all referred to me as Rogers though. No change there. All three sat in the back as well.

When the Mitchell's went on a family holiday to Tuscany I talked Chloe into spending an evening at their house. We got in the Bentley and drove to the Bayswater mansion. We spent the night in the king-size marital bed, with her virginity long gone Chloe fucked like a veteran, totally uninhibited. Her long, flowing, blond hair spayed out over the soft, satin pillows, her legs stretched across the luxurious bedsheets while I drilled her for two solid hours. The little vixen had three orgasms for me -- absolutely lovely. The next day I took her to the nearest chemist shop for the morning-after pill before driving on to work, then returned to take the heavily soiled bedsheets to the laundrette and then replaced them on the bed. Chloe was a good girl.

While at the mansion I couldn't help taking a look around the house, before leaving. I stumbled across Lucinda's knicker-drawer and buried beneath a rich variety of thongs and panties of various colours I found two vibrators, no wonder she is an effervescent fun-loving young girl, probably too late to get her virginity, that flower will have been picked already I thought.

I drove Chloe back to work, parked the car and spent a few hours cleaning the Bentley then wondered into the offices. Kathleen gave me that all-knowing look, what had Chloe been saying?

"Where have you been all day?" She asked.

"I think you already know the answer to that." I replied. She laughed.

"It could be you, you know, all you have to do is loosen up a little." I continued half laughing, half serious.

"You wish."

"I certainly do, you'll never know how I wish."

"Oh, I can imagine."

"You should know what I get to imagining. You'd be surprised."

"In your dreams."

She was right there; she was the most fuckable bit of crackling in the Home Counties as far as I was concerned.

Kathleen was married to Arnold who ran and operated his own courier business, they were, on the face of it, a happy couple but she had always wanted her independence and to pursue her own career. She was one of those very efficient secretaries with unswerving loyalty to Mitchell. Unfortunately for me she demonstrated the same loyalty to her husband.

A few weeks later I was sat in the little pokey office I had in the underground car park when the phone rang, it was Kathleen.

"Sir Alistair wants you to go to his house and pick his daughter up and drive her across to Western-Super-Mare to meet her boyfriend. He wants you to spend the day there and bring her back in the evening."

Almost before the Bentley came to a halt outside the front door Lucinda skipped out and was sat in the front seat. She was wearing a short skirt, no stockings and thigh boots just over her knees. She didn't try to hide her thighs either. She was wearing a low cut blouse with the top two buttons undone and an ample amount of cleavage on display. I had a long drive in front of me with this young sexy girl for company and it was going to be difficult to ignore the numerous distractions she represented.

She was a beautiful girl, stunning blue eyes and long red hair which lapped over her shoulders and down towards her breasts which were young, smooth and firm looking, her nipples stuck out like two missiles ready to be launched from there silos. Her thighs were long white and smooth. We talked about her college studies; she was studying law and finding it hard going. She knew her father would easily find her a post at one of the leading law firms once she had graduated.

Her boyfriend, she told me, was also a law student and that she had only been going out with him for two months.

I dropped her off at her boyfriend's house and went to a café for a meal and a coffee then killed time walking around Western-Super-Mare. I picked Lucinda up at around 7.00pm, she kissed her boyfriend and got into the car rather amateurishly and flashed her little, gleaming, white thong. I averted my eyes but thought lovely, very sweet.

We set off home and she never attempted to cover her thighs even though she was wearing a very short skirt. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the road but it wasn't difficult to take a regular glance. Constantly she crossed and uncrossed her legs in exaggerated fashion letting her little skirt ride further up each time until her crotch was constantly on show. I knew what she was doing but she was the boss's daughter, one false move or suggestion from me and my job was gone. I have been there before with teenage girls, they give you the come on, come and get it, then in shock horror yell, "What kind of a girl do you think I am."

Lucinda asked me to pull off the main road; saying she needed to answer the call of nature. It was dark when I turned off at the first reasonable opportunity and found the nearest country lane and stopped the Bentley where there was a gap in the hedges. Lucinda got out of the car and didn't bother to disappear behind the hedges. She found an appropriate spot and in full view hitched up her skirt, crouched near the hedge, pulled her thong to one side and had a piss that seemed to last forever. I could see the stream of piss coming out of her pussy and making a little pool in the grass beneath her.

Up she got pulled her thong into place like a hammock for her cunt, with the Bentley's headlights still on I could see she had a deliciously, shaped and protruding pubic bone. She pulled her little skirt down and straightened it out then and came back to the car and surprised me by climbing into the backseat.

"Rogers are you going to fuck me or not?"

It sounded like the kind of instruction her father would give.

This was a chance too good to miss. Fuck Sir Alistair's gorgeous young daughter on the backseat of his Bentley. I turned the headlights off and got into the back of the car. I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my fly and pulled my trousers and Jockeys down over my arse. Soon Lucinda was stretched out on the backseat, her thong was hanging on the steering wheel where I had tossed it. Her thighs were open and her head has hanging out of the car door with her long red-hair streaming towards the ground.

I opened her thighs as wide as I could in the cramped conditions, rubbing my cockend along her sweet, little slit, spreading her young labia, I circled and massaged her clit with the hard tip of my knob-end until she was wailing for it..

"Fuck me Rogers, fuck me. Fuck me."

I slid my cock down to find the cute, little ring of her tight cunt-hole and extracted from her the longest groan I had ever heard from a woman as she took thick cock right up her young, little cunt.

Now I reckoned, what with the pathetically low wages I got from her father, I was fully entitled to this fuck, what a delightful way to screw a young bit of pussy while her father paid me for doing it at time-and-a-half of the normal hourly rate.

There was no doubt that for Lucinda, feeling a man's hard shaft inside her, was therapeutic heaven. For the first fifty or so, unhurried thrusts, I gave it to her ever so slow and deliberate, enjoying the mounting ecstasy spreading across her face and her long intakes of breath. I didn't want to just fuck her I wanted her to enjoy the feel and thick texture of my cock, to be able to dwell on each length and savour each throb, each twitch and each pulse. I guessed that she would have been fucked by her young boyfriend, immature and inexperienced and I wanted her know what seasoned cock really felt like. I wanted to send such erotic feelings swirling around her brain cells. I wanted her to feel the intoxicating and rapturous feelings that a slow, length of thick cock can give a woman.

Her first orgasm was a revelation to me, it was a mixture of tormented rhapsody and spasmodic waves after which I banged her remorselessly, slamming her backwards and forwards, her head still hanging out of the car, her mouth open, gulping air until I felt hot cunt-fluid drench my balls, I couldn't hold it and I wasn't going to pullout, I wanted to soak her young vagina. She told me later as we drove home that it was the first-time she had ever been spunked but she was on the pill and did not need the morning-after-pill. I told her to get one just in case. She had some serious sperm inside her.

She didn't stop taking about it all the way home. "Wasn't it wonderful? How was it for you? I thought it was great." I have never felt anything like it, I had an orgasm you know?"

As if I could miss it. Each orgasm she had made me feel like I was riding at a rodeo.

"It's the first time a man has ever, you know, let it go inside me. It felt like ... really warm." She gushed.

I got her home and took the car back to the underground car park. I took the torch from the boot of the car and looked at the backseat; there were fuck stains all over the upholstery, female cunt-fluid and thick, male, cock-porridge.

The next day I had to drive Mitchell all the way to Edinburgh. Although the stains of the fuck with his daughter had gone it was as if I could smell the richness of sex. I kept looking in the rear view mirror but Mitchell was dealing with business documents and making phone calls and was totally unaware that less than 12 hours previously his daughter's little cunt had made a mess on the seat right where his arsehole was now plonked. His "little Princess" as he often called her had been well fucked and cum-filled.

He didn't speak to me all the way to his meeting in Edinburgh or all the way back again. To be honest it made the journey better, I don't think I would have wanted any kind of conversation with him. I just enjoyed the gloating.

Two days later I was taking Janet and Lucinda on a shopping trip around London. At least they knew I was there although they both called me Rogers, at least it was friendly.

Lucinda and her mother seemed to have a very grown up, adult relationship and as I drove them home they were continually joking.

"Mother, don't you think Rogers has a cute, tight, little arse?"

"Well, it certainly turns heads." Janet replied.

I decided not to react to these taunts, kept my eyes on the road and resisted looking in the rear view mirror but the taunting continued.

"Do you think he masturbates?" Lucinda continued determined to embarrass me.

"All men masturbate Darling; they could fuck six women in one day and still feel they need to jerk-off."

"Bet you would like to jerk his cock-off mother."

"Not while he is driving Daddy's car Darling."

"We could jerk him off when we get home. Would you like mother to jerk your cock off Rogers while I play with your balls?"

"That's enough Lucinda." Janet said a bit sharply bringing the remarks to an end.

They wanted a reaction from me but I was desperately determined to concentrate on driving the car but my erection was making things difficult. Were they joking or was this for real? When we got to the house I pulled the car into the drive and parked as near to the door as I could. The women just got out of the car laughing and giggling and walked to the front door leaving me to get the shopping from the boot and carry it to the house.

I put the shopping down in the Kitchen and turned to leave.

"Rogers, don't go yet." Janet said, sitting in the armchair holding one foot up in the air, "These boots are killing me, pull them off me please."

I took the heel of the calf-length, white boot in my hands and started to slowly pull it off. Janet deliberately lifted her foot higher until I could see up between her thighs.

"Mother," Lucinda almost shouted, "Rogers can see your knickers."

She was right, Janet's thighs were open enough to flash her light-blue panties and the view got better when it came to removing the second boot. As I braced myself to pull the second boot off, Lucinda, who was stood behind me, wrapped her hands around me and unzipped my fly. By the time the second boot was off my cock was out and I was being slowly wanked from behind by the very slender hands of the bosses daughter right in front of his wife.

"Shoot your load for my Mum, she has a fetish about watching a man shoot his jizz. Daddy does it for her all the time."

I had never experienced anything like this before. Janet just sat back in the chair, thighs spread apart, and her eyes focused on my cock while her lovely attractive daughter pointed my cock directly at her mother and erotically pulled my foreskin slowly backwards and forwards over my swollen bull-head.

I could feel the ecstatic tingling cascading into the nerve ends of my thickening, purple cockend. Janet's eyes widened as she saw my cock harden in her daughter's hand. By now I was thinking, if they want to see my cock fire off its load they are about to get what they want and see a display of cum-shooting as wild as any they will ever see.

"Pump him faster." Janet said with a sense of excitement in her voice, "The dirty bastard's starting to spunk. His blue vein is getting bigger. Wank it faster, faster."

"Come on Rogers, let's see you do a cumshot." Lucinda said with an excited little giggle.

"That's a good boy Rogers show me and Lucinda what your cum looks like."

I was grunting with the sheer eroticism of it all as a stream of my thick, white slush shot onto Janet's thighs, not quiet reaching her panties.

"Woohoo," Janet squealed, "Absolutely gorgeous. What a thick creamy wad that was. Oh my god I do love to see a man do that."

Janet took a handkerchief from her hand bag and wiped the spunk from her thighs. Then headed for the stairs and disappeared leaving me with Lucinda. I held her in my arms and kissed her. Her body felt so sweet and supple. She was wearing a green flowered dress and soon it was gathered up around her waist, my hand was down inside her knickers and her wet twat was in my hand, her slit was gaping, her little clit was pert and erect while I fingered her all the way to cumsville. Young cunt has a magic all of its own, tighter, firmer pussy-lips that twitch harder with the new experience of youth. My hand was a creamy mess and my cock was rock hard again. I was just about to give her a length and a spunking when she stopped me.

"My mother is waiting upstairs for you; I think you should go to her Rogers."

I really hadn't expected that.

"She will be very disappointed Rogers if you don't go and give her one."

When I got to the bedroom at the top of the big winding staircase in the luxurious sprawling mansion I found Janet laid on the bed naked, her thighs were spread wide, her knees almost at right-angles to her wide child-bearing hips. Her slit was perfect, her cunt shaved bald, the soft cheeks of her little arse merged neatly with the lips of her twat.

I stood at the bottom of the bed and started to strip off my clothes and soon stood naked with my cock hard and bending upwards. I had never seen a woman so submissive, her little arse slowly humping thin air in anticipation of the fuck she now knew was only moments away.