Erotica#1 :: The Taxi Drive, by Faith Bishop


I am sitting at the bar nursing my glass of wine. I have checked my make-up twice, rearranged my breasts many more times and scrutinised every man who’s walked in the bar in the last twenty minutes.

Then I see him. I get off the bar stool and smile uncertainly at him. He doesn’t smile back but simply picks up my bag, takes my hand and says, ‘Come.’

I go.

He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t say another word. He opens the door and gestures for me to get inside the taxi.

I do.

He gets in and sits so close I can smell his aftershave. After instructing the driver where to go he says, staring straight ahead, ‘Spread your legs Morgan.’

I catch the driver looking at my tits in the rear view mirror. I’m wearing a soft cotton t-shirt and my nipples are so hard the peaks are clearly visible, straining.

I move my knees apart.

His hand slides up my inner thigh and brushes against my now exposed sex.

‘Good girl. No panties. Now let see how wet my pussy is.’

With no warning he slides two fingers into my slick, wet, engorged cunt. I groan as he pushes roughly inside me.

‘You like that, don’t you slut,’ he says. And although I have closed my eyes I can hear the smile in his voice.

‘Yes.’ I whisper.

‘I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. Morgan, meet John.’

My eyes snap open. The taxi driver is smiling at me. I stare wide-eyed at both of them.

‘Wha… what?’ I start. Trying to move back up into the seat and close my legs. But his hand is still deep in my pussy with his thumb massaging my clit and I finish the question with a whimper rather than words.

The car stops in a dark underground parking lot.

The door next to me opens and John slides onto the seat.

‘I will leave you two alone. John, you have fifteen minutes.’

And suddenly I am alone with an aching pussy in a car with a man called John.

‘Don’t worry Morgan. I know exactly what you need,’ John says as turns me over and pushes me flat onto the seat so that I am lying on my stomach. I hear him undoing his belt buckle and the rustle of a condom packet.

He grinds into me with all his weight and I am pushed flat against the leather seats

John pulls my knees apart, flips my skirt over my ass and with pushes the full length of his cock into me.

‘God,’ is all I can manage as he allows me to take more and more of his weight as he thrusts is thick cock deep, so very deep, into me.

The sensations meld together: John’s hands pulling my hair so that my neck is exposed, hands on my throat choking me, hands squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples until I squeal, his fingers in my mouth – all the while his relentless thrusting.

The sensations are overwhelming and when suddenly John pulls out of me, slaps my exposed ass and drives his cock straight back into my pussy, I come – hard, loud and breathless.

As I try to get breath back I can feel John come inside me with the words ‘Oh. Fuck. Yes.’ as he grinds into me with all his weight and I am pushed flat against the leather seats.

We lie in silence. The only sounds our breathing.

The door opens. ‘Okay John. Thank you. You can take us back to the restaurant now please,’ he says.

John gets off me, gently stokes me hair, puts on his pants and gets back into the driver seat.

‘Sit up Morgan.’

I do.

He sits next to me and pulls me onto his lap so that my head is on his shoulder. He slowly rubs my back and kisses me lightly on the head.

‘Did you enjoy that my slut?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ I answer as I snuggle into his chest, sighing contentedly.

‘Good. I thought you would. Now. Lets have some dinner and plan our next outing shall we?’

– Faith Bishop

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