I knew I’d missed the last bus even before I reached the stop, and while there was always the hope that it was running late tonight, one look at the deserted shelter let me know I was stuck. I lit a cigarette and considered my options – either start walking, and hope that the cold didn’t turn to rain as well, or head back to the club and see if there was someone I knew… or could get to know… who’d give me a bed for the night.
So I guess you could say I wasn’t being too picky when I caught the guy’s eye who was staring across the dancefloor. But sizing him up as he made his way towards me, pushing through the gyrating bodies that packed the place despite the late hour, I figured things could have been worse. Good build, nice height, not badly dressed, a tat on one short-sleeved arm which would at least give me a way to open a conversation if I needed to.
He came up beside me, a beer in one hand. “How you doing?”
Not “what are you drinking,” but maybe he’d get to that. For some reason, I could really have done with one, and he went right up in my estimation when he filled the first silence between exploratory sentences by asking if I was thirsty. I went for a Rolling Rock, and as he pushed his way to the bar, I followed a few steps behind him.
His name was Adam, he was a cab driver. I joked that he must be a useful person to know, and he grinned. Half of his friends, he said, seemed to have him on speed dial, and a lot of their friends as well. “But I’m off duty tonight,” he concluded, and I tried to gauge what he meant by that – either he was warning me against trying to grab a cheap ride home; or he was letting me know we weren’t going to be disturbed.
He asked me dance; of course I agreed, and as closing time approached and the deejay swung into the traditional last few slowies, the way he held me made it clear that I wouldn’t be walking home tonight. He was as muscular as he looked, his back firm and strong, his arms,tool. I could feel his anticipation elsewhere as well as he jammed himself against me and his heat… and hardness… radiated through his pants. His mouth was against the bare skin of my neck, soft warmth surrounded by the pinpricks of his stubble, and I inclined my head just a little as a sign that I welcomed his kisses. “Shall we split?” he murmured and I replied with a soft kiss of my own on his bare arm.
The rain had started as we walked to his car, and I was glad for the arm that pulled me alongside him and the jacket that he gallantly wrapped around my shoulders; still we dashed to the side street where he was parked. I was less happy that the arm remained around my shoulders as he drove; I’m a firm believer in keeping both hands on the wheel at all times. But he drove cabs for a living, so I guess he knew what he was doing, and besides, there was definitely something comforting about snuggling up against him as the rainswept streets drifted by, and with my right arm stretched across him, my hand on his tummy, and the heater stripping the chill from the car, I caught myself actually drifting towards sleep. Then out again as I felt Adam sucking his stomach in, as though willing my hand to drop a few inches, to lay … let’s just say a little below his waist.
We hit traffic, which surprised me at this hour, and he cursed as his phone dinged and he checked the alert. “There’s an accident up ahead. Hopefully they’ll clear it quickly.” I looked out through the rainsoaked windshield, the long line of red lights that stretched around the curve in the road, and the flashing lights at the end of it.
His stomach muscles flexed again.
We inched forward, and Adam suddenly shifted in his seat, which caused my hand to inch down as well. Not onto his cock, but close and I felt the fabric tighten as it gave an encouraging twitch. I raised my head a little and kissed his neck. He turned towards me, just enough to meet my lips while one eye kept a watch on the vehicle in front of us, and that was all the movement it required. Now I could feel his erection through his pants, and the arm that still hung around my shoulders twisted in to clasp my breast. I squeezed in gentle response, and he chuckled. “You can’t wait for it, can you?”
I squeezed him again. “I dunno, you’re the one who feels impatient.”
His cock was fat, and I like that. Length is good, but give me girth any time, that stretching sensation that edges so close to pain that you think for a moment that he’ll split you in two. And then your body adapts and the muscles relax, and the pain slips away – until the following morning, when you realize it actually hurts to walk. “Well-fucked” is the technical term, I think.
His hand was inside my blouse now, squeezing my tit while the buttons strained in protest. I let go of my prize and undid three or four, grateful that I’d forgone a bra, and now his fingers were on my nipple, roughly squeezing, scraping. I rubbed him in reply, the flat of my palm pressing down on his erection, slowly massaging as he strained and bucked beneath it.
Flashing lights bathed us as an ambulance passed by on the shoulder, heading towards the accident scene. Adam’s hand left the wheel and fell onto mine, momentarily squeezing it and then moving to his own buttons. As each one released, his cock’s movements grew stronger, and I squinted through the rain again. We were maybe fifteen car lengths from the accident now, which meant we were fifteen car lengths from a whole hive of cops, firemen and medics. And he’d just taken his cock out.
I gripped him, my hand looking so insignificant as it struggled to wrap around his fat dick. My thumb swept over the tip and came away sticky with pre-cum. We were kissing hungrily, his tongue thick and heavy in my mouth, breaking only as the lights lined up before us flickered and he nudged the car forward another wheel-turn or two.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
“I want you inside me,” I whispered. My cunt was so wet, screaming out for even a fraction of the attention he was paying to my nipples.
“What do you want inside you?” Oh, he was smooth.
“Your cock. I want your fat cock in my wet pussy,” and I squealed as he reached over, his hand slapping onto my pussy and fingers pushing my sodden panties inside me; then pulled them to one side so his finger alone could drive in. I wriggled to spread my legs wider, then raised one, up on the dashboard as he finger fucked me for as long as it took for the traffic to move again. <i>Please let the road be clear now</i> I thought, but no, we halted again as quickly as we’d moved, and his hand returned to my crotch, his greased fingers slick and slipping deep as my hand jerked his cock harder and faster.
He broke away, froze my fist. “Not so fast.”
I smiled. “Problem?”
“I don’t want to cum yet.”
This time I laughed aloud. “Are you sure about that?” Eight car lengths – fuck them. We could be here all night. I leaned forward, bent down, and took him in my mouth, my jaw breaking around his enormous cock head, but pushing through the discomfort as he pushed between my lips.
His prick was magnificent. hot in my mouth and so firm, my mouth slipping on its length and his flavor pure sex, raw excitement. My hand gripped the root and and I was jerking him with my lips, faster and faster now, pumping his prick, feeling him tense, hearing him groan.
Suddenly the car was moving again, rolling forward, and this time not stopping. I was sucking him, mouth-fucking him. And when I knew he was cumming, I released him from my jaws and shifted my body so his hot, thick jizz splashed across my hungry, bare breasts, milking his prick into my cleavage, my eyes closed and head tilted back in triumph as he spurted wave upon wave onto my flesh.
I wondered for a moment why his release was not accompanied by a cry.
Then I opened my eyes, saw the light streaming in, and the two cops who stood just inches away. Their backs were to the car, and I giggled, “that was close.”
Adam was already tucking his cock away. “Not really,” he said, and he turned to the driver’s side window. A medic was standing, a grin on his face, and when he saw me looking, he mimed his applause. I smiled back because what else could I possibly do, and started buttoning my blouse over the thick sticky mess that was dribbling down to my belly. But the road ahead was clear now, and we were finally moving away, the open road ahead of us and a warm bed as well.
“I reckon that’s a show he won’t forget for a long time,” Adam said with a laugh, and then, with just a trace of concern in his voice, “you don’t mind that he saw you, do you?”
I thought for a moment; to be honest, I wasn’t really sure. But I wasn’t going to spoil Adam’s fun with hesitation. “Not at all,” I answered cheerfully, “although maybe, if I’d known he was there, I’d have swallowed you instead.”
It’s a good job there was nobody else on the road right then. Adam floored the pedal so hard that I thought the car might fly the rest of the way home.