Cabbie

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Taxi Driver seduces a passenger.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,516 Followers

Just after I turned eighteen I went to my first formal ball. It was the Lord Mayor's formal charity ball and the tickets cost a bomb. My parents paid for me and Mike and even bought me a proper ball-gown. It was just gorgeous, jade green, strapless, with a side zip. Mind you, my breasts are on the generous side, so I couldn't wear it without a bra, but we managed to get a strapless bra that worked wonders. I was left with a bit of cleavage but what the hell - if you've got it, you've got it. I looked sensational.

Mike hired a tuxedo for the night and he looked really nice. A terrific escort to have, what with him being the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. And he could dance, knowing all the formal ball dances. It was going to be a good night.

As my official partner, Mike led me onto the floor for the first dance, a waltz. After that I had a steady stream of partners, some fun, some sleazy but, on average, all OK. I did notice that my cleavage seemed to captivate the sleazy ones. They always tried to coax me outside after their dance, but I would indicate Mike was there and that I was with him. He's big enough that no-one wants to tangle with him.

Later that night I found my hero had clay feet. Booze-sodden feet, to be more precise. While I'd been dancing, Mike had been visiting the bar. Now I'd known that Mike sometimes had a wee bit too much to drink. What I hadn't known was that, where he was concerned, one drink was a wee bit too much, and subsequent drinks underlined the fact.

When it was time for me to leave I hunted him up, easy enough, he was at the bar still, and suggested that it was time to go. That's when I found out he was blotto, sitting there with his eyes open and his mind vacant. My decision didn't even need thinking about. No way was he driving me home. We'd leave his car overnight and catch a taxi, which he would pay for, even if I had to surgically extract his wallet to get the money.

I arranged for a taxi and waited. When it came I nipped out and asked the driver if he could help me with Mike. Apparently it was an old situation to him.

"No worries, love," he assured me. "I'll get him loaded."

He went inside with me and then steered Mike out to the taxi.

"Listen, love, you sit in the back and I'll fasten him into the front. If he's going to throw up it's easier for me to clean the front and that way he won't mess up your nice dress."

That suited me down to the ground. If Mike threw up over my dress I'd have had to kill him. The cabbie managed to steer Mike into the seat and fasten him in. The fresh air had a noticeable effect on Mike. It knocked him out in nothing flat. It was as though he was breathing sleeping gas.

The cabbie hopped in and grinned at me.

"Where to, love," he asked, and I gave him Mikes address. I'd dump him first and then head on home.

We drove off and I just relaxed, sitting back and closing my eyes. Apart from Mike's drinking too much it had been a good night. I was probably half asleep when the cab pulled up. I cracked one eye, saw we weren't home yet and just closed my eye again. I heard the cabbie get out of the car but didn't think anything of it.

You can imagine how startled I was when the rear passenger's side door opened and the cabbie was there. He bent down grabbed my feet and swung them up onto the seat. Then he grabbed the hem of my dress and just pushed my dress up. I mean right up, until it was bunched around my waist. After that he took hold of my pantihose and panties and drew them down.

I'm not kidding. Effectively he laid me flat on my back and whipped off my pantyhose and panties, leaving me naked from the waist down. I frantically tried to push my dress back into position, but while I was doing that he reached up under my arm and unzipped my dress.

With the dress unzipped there was nothing to hold it in place and he quickly dragged my top down to waist level. Then he did the same with my bra. The blasted strapless bra was really only held in place by my breasts and when I was lying on my back they flattened out and it was easy for him to yank the bra down to my waist.

So there I was with my dress and bra bunched around my waist, effectively nude. Very loudly nude, I might add, because I was protesting as hard and as fast as I could while I tried to cover myself.

"Listen, love," he said, "just relax. There's no-one to hear you. Especially not your boyfriend."

Looking past him and out the car I could see what he meant. He'd stopped in a park somewhere and it was dark outside. No houses or shops in sight. What was in sight was me, because the taxi's internal lights were on and the cabbie could see everything.

What was worse was what I could see. His trousers were down and his cock was up. Very up. It was a horrifying sight.

"What do you think you're doing?" I raged at him.

"Just helping you out, love," he told me. "Your boyfriend won't be much good to you so I thought I'd take his place. Don't worry. You'll be fine."

I tried to tell him that his help wasn't needed but he just ignored me. He put his hands between my knees and gently moved my legs apart. That really shocked me, I can tell you that. Mike and other boyfriends have tried to pry my legs apart, without any success. I could keep my knees clamped together with the best of them. Then this cabbie comes along, slips his hands between my legs, just above my knees, gently tugs and my legs part. My muscles felt like mush, giving absolutely no resistance.

Whatever was wrong with my legs was contagious. I had one arm folded across my bosom and my other hand protectively covering my mound. He just took my wrists and moved my hands to my sides, with no resistance. How could this be happening to me?

He didn't just pounce on me. He took his time, running his hands over me, playing with my breasts and my mound while I lay there as though paralysed. Not totally paralysed, unfortunately, as I could feel everything that he was doing.

I could feel my nipples pucker, and I could feel my body reacting to his touches. Heat was rising inside me, like it or not, and I could practically feel my pussy swelling and flowering under his touch. I could most certainly feel the moisture gathering down there.

Against my will I could feel my body starting to squirm under his touches, my mound pressing up against his intrusive hand. It may not have been what I wanted, but he seemed to regard the signs with good heart.

"Just relax. It won't be long now," he assured me, while his fingers dipped inside me, creating more internal havoc.

"Oh, take your time by all means," I told him. "Maybe sometime next week would be good."

The mongrel just laughed, then he started stroking his cock against my lips, dragging the head of it back and forth along my slit, teasing me. I lay there, watching his cock as it brushed against me, a most peculiar feeling inside me. That thing was going to come into me, and very soon. It was odd. I wanted to cringe away and at the same time I wanted him to hurry up and start.

I couldn't help getting hot and excited, wondering what would be next. I knew what he was going to do, but what would it feel like? Nervous anticipation describes it nicely.

I let out a little squeak when he parted my lips, giving him room to enter. The head of his cock pressed against me, I could feel it starting to move into me. The cabbie then laid full length over me, crushing me against the seat, with his cock still just lightly pressing against me. He felt heavy but, somehow or other, it seemed the right thing for him to do.

He pushed into me. I've heard that some men take virgins carefully, treating then tenderly. Not him. He just drove straight into me. I gave a small scream as he broke my hymen and just charged down my passage, scattering all those lovely feelings I'd been having.

And then he blamed me for not letting him know I was a virgin.

"Geez, love, you might have warned me you weren't broken in," he said. "I might have hurt you."

Might have? Where did he get the might from? He had bloody hurt and now, instead of half wanting him to do it, I wanted him out.

"Warn you?" I yelped. "I'm supposed to give my sexual history to anyone who wants to jump me so they know how to frigging rape me?"

"Not anyone. Just the first time. Too late now. All you can do now is relax and enjoy the ride."

Relax and enjoy? Was he fucking kidding me? I had this whacking great cock jammed up me as far as it could go, my virginity was history, he'd hurt me when he took me and he was feeling most strange inside me. Oh, and my boyfriend and supposed protector was sitting in the front seat, boozed to the gills and snoring his head off.

He just lay on top of me, filling me and not moving. All I could do was lie there and wait and see what would happen. After a short while I was surprised to find that those nice feeling that I'd had were creeping back. Apparently they hadn't been chased away, just scattered, and now they were returning. Also, his cock was no longer feeling like an unwanted intruder but was, rather, a guest with whom I was getting acquainted.

I knew the theory of sex, even if I'd never actually practised it. By rights he should be frantically humping up and down, trying to get his rocks off (and, hopefully, please me while he was doing it). So why wasn't he?

After a bit of this just lying there I started to get a little restless. Maybe I started to move my hips or something. I don't know. All I know is that he gave this little grunt of satisfaction and finally started to do his humping.

When I say humping I mean he pulled his cock slowly back out of me and then just as slowly pushed back in. Nothing like that first painful push. It actually felt quite nice. Then he did it again. After he'd repeated this a few times I could sense a sort of rhythm to what he was doing. The next time he pushed in I could feel myself pushing up to meet him.

For some reason he hesitated for a second when I pushed up, but I found that the movement felt right and it made the rubbing of his cock against me feel even nicer. After that momentary hesitation he went on with what he was doing to me, but I got the impression that he was moving faster now.

I was breathing harder and I could hear myself making little 'uh, uh,' noises in time to the way his cock was sliding into me. I could also hear a wet sounding slap as his groin bumped against mine, and I could almost swear that I could feel his testicles bouncing against my mound.

Most of this wasn't on a conscious level, more like background information filtering through to me. What was on a conscious level was that great big cock and the things it was doing to me. As far as my body was concerned anything that wasn't cock was extraneous information. He'd come surging into me and my pussy would shout 'yes' and ripples of excitement would radiate out from where his cock was touching me, lighting little fuses than burned as they ran deep inside me, letting off little crackers of excitement.

Those frissons of excitement were steadily building. I knew that all those little fuses were slowly burning their way to the core of my being and when they reached there I was just going to explode. And I wanted to. I needed to.

I was banging up against him harder than before, trying to tell him to hurry, go faster, help me get to that point. In reply he was hitting in harder and harder, driving me crazy.

At the end there I didn't know what was going on. I was just moving and feeling, feeling and moving, excitement burning bright within me. Then the cabbie made a funny noise and I could feel him squirting something inside me. That was it as far as I was concerned. I just gave a loud gasp and seemed to go up in flames, every part of my body burning from the ripples of heat surging through me.

When I got myself back together I was still lying on the back seat but the taxi was moving again. I was still effectively naked with gown and bra bunched around my waist and panties on the floor of the cab. I must have made a sound as the cabbie spoke up.

"You'll find a box of wet tissues on the window ledge behind you," he told me. "You can use those to clean yourself up. We'll be at the address you gave me in about five minutes."

I was actually grateful for the tissues. I was feeling rather sticky in places where I'd never felt sticky before. I needed to wipe myself down. I proceeded to do so and hastily got my clothes back on.

I glared at the cabbie. He seemed completely unaffected by what had happened, whereas my mind was in a turmoil. I was no longer a virgin. Should I start taking advantage of that fact or not?

Leaning forward I changed our destination to my address. As far as I was concerned I was getting out there and the cabbie could then take Mike home and try to get the fare out of him. My night was officially over.

Ashson
Ashson
8,516 Followers
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AshsonAshsonover 9 years agoAuthor

Only if she reports it.

Chances are good that she won't, especially if she enjoyed it.

She might be angry but self protection tends to win over anger and she would see not talking about it as protecting herself.

shyintxshyintxover 9 years ago

And when he shows up for work tomorrow he is promptly arrested, because of course with him driving a cab with a number on it would make it impossible to ever find him.

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