Car Show Slut Ch. 15

Soon we were on our way.

I found the gentle humming of the engine and movement of the vehicle somehow soothing as we proceeded, but only until I felt Bill's hand on my thigh. Here we go again, I thought.

"Hey Angie," he whispered into my ear. "How about a quick blow job before we get there, eh?"

Fuck him! Fucking bastard. I was sick of this already, and the night had only just begun. Why should I do what he says? Why should I have to be his bimbo slut! I'm an intelligent marketing executive! This is just horseshit.

"Angie, be a good girl and do as I say. My dick needs sucking, and I want Mr Cab Driver here to get a look at those pretty lips of yours wrapped around it. It would make his day, I'm sure. Come on, honey. You know the deal. Think of this as business. That will make it easier."

And he was right. Why am I getting upset about this -- why am I being so pathetic? There was no point getting all emotional about this. God, look at yourself, Anne, you're acting like a petulant child. Keep your wits about you; there is nothing to be achieved by getting all hysterical. Because this, just as he had said, this was business. I was here, sitting in this taxi at night, not heading out for a pleasant evening meal, but rather, I was conducting a business deal. And this business deal was different -- it relied not on my intellect or my negotiating skills or even my charm, but my body and my ability to sexually excite Mr Jones. And to excite the driver here, too, so it seemed, for that was the task that had just been presented to me. Give the driver a hard on, to put it bluntly, that was my job right now -- and my career depended on me doing the best job I could. That was the simple reality of the situation. But could I do it?

In the meantime Bill had released his cock from his trousers. It was rock hard. He took my hand and guided it to his shaft. My fingers wrapped around the warm, hard member.

"Well?" he whispered.

Oh my God. I am about to suck Bill's cock out in a public place, in the back of a car, with a stranger sitting in the drivers' seat in front of us.

"Suck it, my sweet little slut," he whispered into my ear.

I just had to do it. I had to obey him. My heart was pounding in my chest as I contemplated what I was about to do, as if I was about to do something utterly illegal, like rob a bank or something. But I just had to do it; I had no choice. I was going to suck Bill's cock, right in front of another man.

I leaned across his lap, lifted the shaft to my face and took it into my mouth. I began to work my mouth up and down, remembering from back in the hotel my hope of making him cum hard so that maybe he would leave me alone for the rest of the night. But in the back of a taxi like this?

As I sucked him I glanced up at the driver in the driver's seat diagonally across from us. He was watching the road ahead -- he seemed not to have noticed what was going on in the back of the cab. Somehow I found it amusing to think that maybe he wouldn't actually notice -- and thus what he would have missed out on seeing. Because I knew enough to know that all guys, for some reason, seem to like nothing more than watching a girl give head.

I felt Bill's cock contracting in my mouth, and I thought that maybe I could make him cum and get this over with quickly. His muscles tensed, and I heard him moan. So did the driver. Oh God, I could sense that now the driver had noticed something going on in the back of the cab; I could just feel his sudden awareness somehow. I glanced up at him, as Bill's cock gently thrusting into my mouth. Oh God, over his shoulder he was looking back at me -- he was watching! I felt a rush of blood through my veins, through my brain; me head pounded, felt like my brain would explode as it registered the reality of what was happening. Oh God, he was looking straight at me, a look of spellbinding shock on his face as he looked into my eyes....

Then I felt a sudden jolt. For a moment I didn't know what had happened. A loud bang, and I was thrown forward against the rear of the front seat as I heard Bill swear, abusing at the driver.

I picked myself up off the floor, dazed, but conscious enough to realize what had happened: we had crashed into the rear of a bus...

It wasn't a big crash, and no one was hurt at all. But through the windscreen I could see the hood of the car was a bit crumpled and steam was coming out.

"Are you OK?" the driver asked. He looked a bit dazed.

"Yeah, we're fine," Bill grumbled. "You really ought to keep your eye on the road, driver. You could have killed us!

"I'm sorry, really sorry sir. I'll radio in for another cab to come and pick you up."

"Don't worry," Bill said. "The restaurant's only a few blocks from here. We'll walk the rest of the way."

"All right sir, ma'am, once again, I'm sorry but I'm glad you're OK. You have a nice evening."

With that we got out of the car and were on our way. I was still a little shocked -- not by the public blow job, strangely enough, but by the accident.

"That was lucky," said Bill. "I've heard of guys getting their cocks bitten off in car accidents like that!" he laughed. Somehow I had to laugh with him. We strolled down the pavement, through a neighborhood that looked a bit dangerous, but Bill's arm around my waist felt comforting; paradoxically, I felt safe here with him.

"God you're hot, Angie," he smiled, as his hand fell down to my ass as I walked. I could feel him squeezing my ass as I walked, one finger gently resting against my ass crack. I wondered whether or not anyone walking behind had noticed. I didn't mind. This was my role for the evening, after all; for the next few hours I was a bought-and-paid-for whore. I had resigned myself to that fact, and somehow that had eased my anxiety, allowed me to relax just a little. In the morning it would be all over, and I could return home with a signed deal. But, in the meantime...