Surprise in a Taxi

Just a short one – this is a small extract from my original draft of Pleasure In Control that never made it into the final version.

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Fearing that I might become a target for unwelcome attentions, I tried to hail a cab but as is ususal, you can never get one when it's raining! But against all the odds, that symbol of trustworthiness, a black London taxicab, pulled up right alongside where I was standing. The back door swung open and without even speaking to the driver I jumped in and slammed the door.

As soon as I realised the cab was already occupied I apologised profusely and reached to open the door, but the woman sitting in the back seat stopped me and asked where I was headed. Nervously I told her roughly where I lived and she assured me that was close to her destination and that I was welcome to share her cab. Looking out at the torrential rainstorm, I accepted her offer willingly.

The skies were dark and the windows were steamed up with condensation so we could not see out, and no-one could see in either. The driver took no notice of us as he weaved his way through the dense city-centre traffic. My dark-haired olive-skinned companion made polite small talk, speaking in a husky voice with a mysterious hint of South American accent. She became more animated and demonstrative, touching my arm, then my leg. The sky outside was black as night and I found it difficult to see her face in the gloom. The air in the taxi has hot and humid and my rain-soaked dress and hair clung wetly to my skin. The atmosphere was highly charged but I froze with complete shock when my car-share partner slid one hand up my thigh and under the hem of my clingy dress.

I stayed motionless, unsure how to react and, perhaps assuming I had given my tacit approval, she placed her other hand over my breast, squeezing it as she slid her left hand further up my leg. My mind raced as she moved her hand up my inner thigh then cupped it over my mound. My pants were damp, but not from the rain, and offered little protection from her probing fingers. She placed her middle finger directly over my slit and pressed through the thin white material. I felt my soft flesh yield to her touch and my outer lips parted. Without a word she then hooked a finger inside the small triangle of my pants and described small circles over the meticulously-shaven skin of my outer labial lips.

"You're so smooth, darling" she purred.

I lay back and parted my legs, sending to her the clearest signal that I approved of what she was doing and that I did not want her to stop. I didn't care any more about the driver, or the rain, or getting home. I was so excited by the shear audacity and presumptiveness of my fellow traveller.

She did not look at me but continued to look straight ahead, or out of the window. I tried to keep quiet but I couldn't stop myself from moaning under my breath and whispering words of encouragement. Whenever a particularly noisy vehicle passed us, I cried out louder to release my tension and to accentuate the pleasure. Now she had her whole hand inside my thong pants, pulling them away from the blossoming petals of my gaping pussy and forcing the narrow strip of material at the back deep into my bum crack where it teased my anus.

My mystery guest slid several of her fingers inside my vagina and positioned her thumb on my clit, rubbing me from side to side and up and down. Periodically, she withdrew her fingers from my opening and slid them upwards, depositing more of my copious lube onto my swollen, twitching clit. Then she returned her thumb to my slippery bud; each time I nearly screamed as she slid it ever-so-lightly over my wet, aching clitoris.

I spread my legs as wide as they would go and lifted my bum off the seat. The hem of my dress was up around my waist and the leather seat of the taxi was cold and sticky against the backs of my thighs. I closed my eyes and tilted back my head, concentrating hard on my surprise companion's expert movements. Just at that moment, the taxi rumbled over some cobblestones and the vibration tipped me over the edge. She removed her hand from my breast and placed it over my mouth to muffle my yell as she milked a long and powerful climax from the inner folds of my cunt.

As soon as the taxi stopped at the next set of lights, she jumped out spoke to the driver, stuffing a large-denomination note into his hand. She motioned towards me and he turned around, just as I had pulled down my dress and was combing my tousled hair coarsely back into place.

"Where to, miss?" he asked.

I cleared my parched, dry throat and barely managed to croak my address. I looked out of the side window and she had already disappeared into the crowd.

The taxi pulled up outside my apartment and I stumbled out into the rain. As I closed my front door I pondered on the experience. Maybe she knew me and we would meet again? Or maybe it is better that we don't and I can relive the experience in my memory.