I've just got to tell you what happened in the back of the car last night.
More than that, I've got to tell you about the whole job. Every bloody bit of it.
Because you are just not going to believe it.
So I get this call at about three yesterday afternoon. It's New Year's Eve. And it's a New Year's Eve like no other. I've got no jobs. No one has any jobs. Because nowhere is open. Lockdown has shot all of us in this line of work. Rides are rare. But I get this call for a booking. Now I'm interested, but first up I ask if it's a joke.
The caller ȧssures me she is one hundred per cent genuine. Her name is Alexis and I remember her. She shares an apartment with two other girls. She's booked several times before, and I know she likes to have a laugh and a good time. She often books last minute after a few drinks.
She tells me she's fed up with this lockdown.
"Don't I know it," I reply. "It's hitting my business real bad."
She says that her flatmates and her are missing bars and parties and clubs and people and fun.
"I'm with you on that," I say. "I'm missing them and those fares."
Then she asks if she could hire the limo. Tonight. She knows I've got a limo in the fleet, though I've only ever booked her a cab before.
She tells me that she and her flatmates want to have their own New Year's Eve party tonight. In the limo! They want to be picked up in the square, by the big Christmas tree, at ten. They want the bar in the back fully stocked and several bottles of bubbly on ice. If they can't go to the party, the party's going to go for them!
"I can do that," I tell them. "No trouble."
Then comes the big request. They want a human with a ċȯċk waiting for them in the limo. That's God's honest truth. They want a stud. And I've only got seven hours to find one! But they are willing to pay, and god do I need the money.
So, I talk to my business partner. We make a few quick decisions. And what is that saying about decisions like that? Decide in haste, repent at leisure. So, we decided in haste. Real haste. But there ain't going to be any repenting afterwards, I'm telling you. And seven hours later I'm driving to the square.
They see me as I pull up and straight away they start chattering and giggling. Excited. Eager. Enjoying that 'before' moment. They dance and skip up to the limo, arm in arm.
So I nod to Angelo (he's my stand-in stud, I'll tell you about this later) to act the gentleman and get out and open the door for them and offer them a drink.
The three of them pile in like it was the end of the party, not the start of it. I'm telling you, they were buzzing. The fizz starts to flow and they are cheering and laughing like they were at a festival and the lead act had just walked on.
The kissing soon follows. With all that kissing and downing those glasses of champagne, the atmosphere is pretty fuċkɨnġ high, I can tell you.
I look carefully—in the mirror of course (God—I'm trying to be subtle) —and see they aren't just kissing my stud. They are passionately kissing each other too. Like they are into girls as much as they are into guys. You get the picture?
So I ask them where they want to go because all I know is that they've booked me for two hours. Now I'm thinking that they are heading to some illegal party or something like that. But Alexis just tells me to drive around the city, go wherever I like, just to end up back at their place when their time's up.
I drive around the city centre, making up a journey when I hear that they've been giving each other dares and I need to head for that old bridge over the river.
When I drive over, I realise one of them is going to wave her tɨts out of the window. Fucking, bloody hell! So they open the window and lean out and Alexis only goes and pulls down her fuċkɨnġ bra and shows her bȯȯbs to the world! What about my fuċkɨnġ licence?
The car behind flashes its headlights overtakes us and the driver gives me this thumbs-up sign. A flash for a flash. Jeez, I'm thinking, I just hope no one is making a note of my licence plate.
They wind up the window, climb back in and the drink keeps flowing and I'm wondering if I put enough bottles in the fridge. And as they drink, the kissing sort of gets a bit deeper. Their tongues are touching—between the girls and my stud and between the girls themselves. Suddenly their hands are all over him, running up his ċhėst, around his neck, on his cheek then down to his crotch.
Now, I'm trying to keep my eye on the road but it's fuċkɨnġ hard not to keep staring in the mirror. This is hot action. These girls are sėxy. Real sėxy. One has those boots that pull up over the knees. 'Fuck me' boots I think they call them. I'm thinking she's going to get well and truly fuċkėd.
Now I always keep a Polaroid camera in the car. It's good for weddings and prom nights. Clients like to take snaps of themselves looking good. And Alexis sees it and starts taking shots of each other. Only they take shots of their arses, and I see that one of them rocks onto her back and opens her legs. No knickers. There's a snap. There are laughs. Out of the camera comes a shot of a pussƴ. I'm not kidding you. A polaroid of a pussƴ!
Anyhow, things then move up a gear in the back. The three of them unbutton Angelo's shirt, unzip his fly and free his ċȯċk, which of course is as hard as a rod. It springs out, keen to see some action.
I have to swerve a bit as I'm drifting across lanes. Now you can't blame me for looking more in the mirror than at the road. You'd do the same. Come on, admit it?
Now, you won't fuċkɨnġ believe what the three of them do next. They gather round in a circle, all their hands on his ċȯċk, then start ŀɨċkɨnġ it together, like it's a lollipop they're sharing. Each enjoying little licks of his helmet before one of them turns to kiss him on the lips.
I slow up at a roundabout and glance back at the action behind me.
They are now taking turns to give him a sėxy blowjob. Each one takes his ċȯċk right into their mouth and then bobs up and down.
I'm worrying Angelo's not going to hold out. The thought of three women deep throating him one after another, coating his ċȯċk with their saliva and then passing him on to their friend is fuċkɨnġ hot. And I'm just praying that he doesn't shoot his load too soon as I sense that each one wants him to fuċk them before the journey's over.
I have to turn right to avoid the one-way system. And when I'm through with the manoeuvre, I look back and there's just this vision of three faces and one ċȯċk. This ċȯċk is the complete focus of their attention—they are ŀɨċkɨnġ, lubing it and loving every inch of it. Three greedy faces; one lucky ċȯċk.
I'm still trying to keep my eyes on the road, but I'm drawn more and more to the rear mirror. I'm forgetting to indicate. I'm turning late. I'm having to slam my brakes on. But I've just got to see what's happening behind me.
I adjust my mirror and notice that now there's more going on than just ċȯċk suċkɨnġ. The girl in those boots starts to kiss the one in the little back dress. They are a cute duo in their matching ponytails.
Now they're seriously into each other. Really seriously. And now I'm working out that there's going to be more than just ċȯċk on the menu tonight. Not that they've moved completely on, every now and then they break from each other's lips and give the ċȯċk a fuċkɨnġ good ŀɨċkɨnġ.
You know, I reckon they're used to this. It all seems to come very naturally to them. I'm guessing these girls have had orgies together before. Whatever's happening between them, there's always one keeping up the action on the ċȯċk—licking, pumping and keeping it hard, making sure it is always in play.
By now I can't even see my stud's face anymore, he's somewhere there, but all I can see is his ċȯċk, lips, legs, arms and arses.
I turn back to the road. Traffic lights. I slow up and put the handbrake on. Glancing back in the mirror I see that the ċȯċk suċkɨnġ has paused and Alexis has got up and is straddling my guy reverse cowgirl style, and eases her pussƴ over his shaft and slowly slides down him.
There's always this look on a girl's face when she is first entered. I always latch on to it when I watch pȯrn. And Alexis sure has that look—it's sort of excitement mixed with contentment.
You know, I had this feeling that she was the one who was going to have the first fuċk. She booked the trip after all, and she sure is the one calling the shots. She's now riding up and down that ċȯċk. He's not moving. He's just sitting there letting her control the rhythm. God, I hope the feeling of tight pussƴ walls (pussies always feel a bit tighter in reverse cowgirl, don't they?) isn't going to push him over the edge?
The car behind me hoots. The lights have turned green, but I hadn't noticed. I pull away and when the traffic calms on a straight section of road I glance in the mirror again.
Things have changed. Alexis rather than the ċȯċk is now the centre of everyone's attention. The girls are each suċkɨnġ her nɨppŀės, and a male hand is stroking her ċŀɨt.
I've got to tell you, she has such the most stunning pussƴ. Immaculately trimmed ginger triangle pointing to perfectly smooth lips below.
I look closer and see that beautiful shaved pussƴ of hers catch the light of some bright Christmas decorations we pass. She is wet. Gloriously, fuċkɨnġ wet.
I'm just glad that the limousine is automatic, as this is now becoming a one-handed drive. It was the sight of her pussƴ and gliding up and down his ċȯċk filling my mirror which did it for me. There's no way I'm going to be indicating after that.
The two girls are now taking it in turns to rub Alexis' ċŀɨt, and she starts to mȯȧn. Every now and then one of them pulls the ċȯċk out of her and gives it a fuċkɨnġ good ŀɨċkɨnġ.
Alexis picks up the speed and her mȯȧns get louder and she comes. But it's one of those small climaxes that leaves you still hot and wanting more. She eases off the ċȯċk and the girl in the silver dress gives it a deep throating, before straddling it herself and easing it slowly inside her. After a few thrusts, Alexis, still in charge, pulls it out and shares a lick with the girl in black, before popping it back and smacking the girl's arse. I catch glimpses of the silver girl's pussƴ, pulled tight by Angelo's ċȯċk, as she slides up and down. I see her lips rub the sides of his shaft, and I'm sensing that she's gripping it hard, squeezing it tight.
As the girl in silver rides Angelo, Alexis helps the other to get out of her dress. So, each one is going to have a fuċk of their own.
With her dress off, Alexis only fuċkɨnġ grabs some ice from the bucket on the bar and rubs in on her nɨppŀės, firming them up nicely.
My stud, having fuċkėd silver girl, now sits up to take the last girl from behind. This is the one time he is in control, and he thrusts away dictating the rhythm. Her nɨppŀės pucker and her cheeks redden. Now, her pussƴ is the last to be pŀėȧsurėd, and Jeez is she in need of this fuċk. My gaze slips to a reflection of her pussƴ in the back window. Her juices are flowing. And I mean flowing. Thank God the upholstery is leather and I can wipe it clean in the morning.
Last is certainly not least is the girl in black's mȯȧns and that sated look on her face is anything to go by. She is rocking back into that ċȯċk and eagerly taking it deep inside her ċunt.
For a moment I think my wonderful stud has come, but he pulls back, ċȯċk standing rigid and unmilked.
By now I've reached their apartment and have parked up outside. I sense that I've got the timing about right as they have all been fuċkėd and just need to enjoy Angelo's come.
I'm not far off coming myself as I can focus on my fun now I'm no longer driving.
They re-form that circle around his ċȯċk, and lick as a three, while Alexis pumps him with her hand, building up speed until I see his body tense and he lets out a mȯȧn.
His spunk seeps out into three eager mouths. They share it between them, each getting a few sticky drips that coat their lips. And then they only fuċkɨnġ kiss each other. Spunk coated lips kissing spunk coated lips. And then I hear a contented purring coming from them as they milk that ċȯċk dry, suċkɨnġ it as it ever so slowly softens.
I can hold out now more and I come too. I try to stifle my mȯȧns. I'm sure they don't realise and I get away with it.
In the back, they are celebrating and pop the cork on the last bottle of champagne and the four of them toast their ride.
Am I fuċkɨnġ jealous or what?
After they finish the bottle, I get out and open the door for them. You can see a look of surprise as I help them out. They ȧssumed it would be the usual driver and asked why I'd taken his place. There was no fuċkɨnġ way he was going to do this fare.
"Heck no," I say. "This job was always going to be mine."
Alexis asks if I was watching from the driver's seat.
Now I don't know what to say. So I test the water: "Would you be cross if I'd taken a peek?"
"Fuck no," she says. "It's just made it even hotter knowing the driver was watching…" she winks and eyes me up and down, "especially since the driver happens to be a very sėxy woman."
Heat rushes to my cheeks and Alexis hands me the fare.
"By the way, where did you find him?" Alexis asks casting a glance to Angelo. "He's hot," she says. "Few guys could have lasted the ride and kept so hard for so long."
I smile as she tells me they all liked the way he was up for the challenge. "And he has the most gorgeous ċȯċk!"
"I know that ċȯċk only too well," I tell her.
"How so?" asks Alexis.
"Because he is my fuċkɨnġ husband," I reply, raise one eyebrow and smile.
She smiles back looking delighted. "Go him! Go you!"
So, I know you aren't going to believe what I have just told you. I don't blame you. If I were sitting where you are I wouldn't believe it either. But here are the fuċkɨnġ Polaroids to prove it.