Taxi Cab Confession

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Driver violated by an old friend.
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It was a particularly warm day in the Bay area. It seems like the rain in the morning only made it seem hotter. I started the ignition to run the air in the taxi. I must have wasted twenty bucks to keep myself cool today alone and there were no signs of it getting any cooler for another two months. Just as I was about to pull away from my waning shade I heard a knock on my passenger window with a muffled voice asking if I was available. I rolled down my window as I was turning toward the soft spoken voice. I told her that I was ready to go anywhere but here. I unlocked the door and she swept into the car as a breeze blows over the beach in the evening.

I asked her where she was going, and with that I opened a Pandora's Box.

She broke out in tears. I always feel sort of put on the spot by crying fares. I feel some sort of need to console them as they pour out their hearts.

Sure she's paying for a ride, but I always seem to offer more.

Between her tears she keeps telling me that she's sorry and that I don't need to worry about it.

That's a tell tale sign that a person really wants to talk, but they want you to invite them to speak their mind. I reply in my normal pleasant tone that it's just another service that I offer free of charge with an understanding wink.

She interrupts me by telling me that she's going to the beach to clear her head.

I tell her that with midday traffic that we're going to be a good thirty minutes together. I also mentioned that she may never see me again.

With that, she began to gush and her defenses broke down. Between sobs she told me a story of a man that she met. They had come to Florida together and will be leaving alone. I asked her why when she told me that he had vanished one night in the middle of the night while she slept. She woke to use the restroom and noticed that he was gone about 1:30 am. She got dressed thinking that he may have hit the bar in the lobby. He wasn't there. His car was still in the parking lot, but he was gone. She called his cell and to her dismay, he pushed it to voicemail. She scratched her head and decided to walk around the pool. When she got there she noticed just off the hotel lot was the only other business that was open within walking distance. The local strip club. Her detective work paid off. Just as she walked in the club he was seated in a dark corner getting the dirty thirty from a filthy stripper. She was furious. When she left the club she went back to the hotel and packed her things and went to another hotel across town.

I sympathized with her as I shared my account of a similar situation that happened to me.

She stopped me to say that it was all her fault.

I asked why she thought his cheating was her fault.

She told me that she was too aggressive with him.

I felt as if just saying it wasn't her fault wasn't enough. I pulled over to the curb and turned around in an effort to solidify my statement with eye contact. It was at that point that I faded. I remember nothing.

Next thing I know I'm wearing a light blocking hood and my hands are cuffed in front of me as my body rests on some leather type of furniture that has me in a kneeling position. I moan as I come to.

I hear her voice with more authority saying to me that I only heard part of the story.

My reply is garbled as I test my restraints.

She continues with, "I wasn't exactly honest with you either."

"What a fucking surprise," I drunkenly retort.

She counters, "Not that I have anything to explain to you anyway."

Where have I heard that before?

She lets me think about that statement for a few minutes as I ponder my fate.

"Why would you go through all this trouble? Why me? And where the hell am I?" I implored as I could only hear her tooling around the room that echoed with each step and motion that she made. She didn't answer me. "I'm sorry for whatever you went through, but I was just trying to be thoughtful. Why me?" Still nothing.

After what seemed like an hour she finally spoke again. "You still don't know who I am. Do you?" "Should I?" I replied. She finally stepped forward and pulled off my hood.

I know I don't always look carefully at everyone that steps foot in my taxi, but how could I have missed her? Oh my God! Christine. Her hair was different, but her body was just as tone as it was in school. She stood over me with heels at nearly 6' tall. She was still stunning. I thought about her so much since we broke up. I was frozen. I loved her in school. We were going to be each other's first in when we broke up to "see other people." We both met and slept with someone else before getting back together after a few weeks. When we finally had sex for the first time we both knew that the magic was gone. She told me that I used her for sex. I, through my anger, had some choice comments of my own that really seemed to break her. I told her that she as awful, but she had no clue how good it really was. All she knew was I told her. I said some awful things that I was too young to understand. I hurt her on so many levels. Now it was clear. It was my turn to hurt.

"You don't just throw away two years with one night. You were the start of my decline and eventually to my rebuilding. I let you rent space in my head for years. Now I'm collecting the rent." She said.

We were in some sort of garage or storage shed of some sort. The walls were block with an orange garage type door. The only light was coming from a dimly lit bulb along the top of the wall. There was nobody in the room besides her and me. In one corner of the room, there was a footlocker. In the other corner of the room, there was a video camera. Great. She's going to tape it.

"Who are you planning to show that to?" I asked.

She stopped talking to me again. Ugh! This was frustrating. Just as I was getting ready to scream there was a honk of a car horn outside. She opened the door to a completely black rural setting. I was in the middle of nowhere with nobody but her and whoever was honking.

"This one" she shouted as she moved her arm in a flagging motion.

I heard a car door open and shut. A moment later, there was a figure just out of the light that I couldn't make out details. There was laughing. Her laughter was unmistakable. The other one was one that I couldn't make out. She and her guest came into the garage both wearing heels and long coats that came down to their ankles. I looked up to see if I knew the other woman. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. The other woman was shorter than Christine, but was just as beautiful. She looked at Christine and asked if I was ready yet.

"He doesn't know yet." Christine replied.

Know what...I wondered.

"He didn't even remember me." She continued.

"Do you think he remembers me?" her friend asked.

"Doubt it."

"Well I'll save you the trouble of racking your brain."

"Please..." I trailed off.

"During your break from Christine you hooked up with two girls."

"Joy?" I asked cautiously.

"In person."

"I can understand why Christine might hate me, but why you?"

"She and I became best friends after you dumped me to go back to her. She told me what you said about her, and how you treated her. I'm here to make sure this hurts."

Hurts was the only word that reverberated in the back of my head. I was starting to shake as I was further testing my bonds. Just then, Joy walked over to the camera and picked it up. She looked coyly over her shoulder at me as if to tell me that I was in deep shit, but, somehow, I already knew that.

Christie asked joy if she should just start as if there was no plan.

Joy told her that there was no reason to wait. I heard Christie throw off her coat and listened as it threw itself to the ground.

Christie said to me, "Remember what I said about renting space in my head?" With no more warning she put her head in my space. The searing pain caused me to scream only to be muffled by Joy with her strap on. Joy pointed the camera down at me with one hand while gripping my hair with her other hand. Christine pulled me back from my escape attempts while driving her hips into mine. Eventually, the pain subsided as she continued to drive her point with each thrust. Joy handed the camera to Christine as she showed renewed attention to her efforts in choking me with her phallic attachment. They both acted like they were possessed. Christine pulled out only after an explosive orgasm. Joy took her time as I gasped between thrusts. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Joy squirted as she came. She soaked my face.

Christine told Joy that it was time to flip me over. Joy un-cuffed me one hand at a time and rolled me onto the floor on a waiting blanket. It occurred to me that the floor was just as hard as it looked without it. Joy re-cuffed me to the device I was bound to before with my hands over my head. Christine sat on my chest with a resounding thud. It knocked the wind out of me. Just as I was gasping for air she laced her fingers into my hair on the back of my head and slammed her strap on deep as she could get it into my throat.

My eyes watered as she mocked me saying, "I've had better." Joy put my legs up in the air over her shoulders and with no regard to the pain I was in from the last fucking pressed her cock into my reddened ass. This was horrifying, but also a huge turn on as I began to grow hard. She stroked my cock as she showed Christine. Christine turned around and waited with her cock positioned under mine waiting for me to blow. Just a couple more strokes and I came all over her strap on. She turned around and crammed her cock and my cum into my mouth. She didn't let me lose a drop as I gagged on both.

Christine and Joy fucked my ass several times as the night went on. The last thing I remember is her suggesting to me that I mind my manners when it comes to women and saying good night as she covered my face with a cloth soaked with a pungent smelling liquid. I woke up late the next morning with my clothes piled up in the passenger seat as I lay in the reclined driver seat naked with a group of strangers around me at the beach.

Christine and Joy think that they got the best of me. In a way they did. I still love sex, but, now, I'm always looking for someone that will use me with a strap on as I pretend to hate it.

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jimjam69jimjam69over 4 years ago
Sick

Couple of perverts.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 14 years ago
I would love to hear your input...

I'm writing a second story for submission here. I could use some input as to some of the aspects of the story that you liked and some that you might not like so much. Please tell me how this could have been better.

Thanks!

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