The Chauffeuse

"Um, Odessa? I'm very happy to be giving you a ride to Oxford, love, but do you think we could talk?"

She continued staring out the window, didn't even look at him. Oliver twiddled his thumbs nervously. He was torn between looking at her cleavage and looking up her skirt at her smooth lips. And being good, and behaving like nothing was happening. The problem with that was there was a lot happening in his pants. He tried his best to follow her lead and look out the window. His best wasn't good enough. His erection was beginning to throb.

They had swung around outer London and come off the M25, and were now heading out along the M40 through the greener outlook of fields, woods, villages and small towns. The change in scenery settled him, and he resigned himself somewhat to another 35 miles or so of disconcerting silence. He wondered if his erection would last that long. He tried to think noble thoughts about Alcander, and doing the right thing. Which led to wondering, if his erectiondid last that long, what his chances might be of persuading Samantha to take care of it? After all, he'd have to do something. He couldn't meet the Oxford crew with a boner. That worried him a little; somehow, he didn't think his chances were all that good.

His spirits revived when the limo turned off the motorway at the next exit. This was definitely not Oxford, though. There were thickets and fields and woods, and little else. And when they turned a hard left onto a small lane and then pulled into a small wood running alongside the motorway, he wasn't sure if he was happy or perturbed.

He decided on perturbed when Odessa smiled at him in an odd way and reached into her tote bag.

"Sammie??" He didn't mean to sound so panicked. He was momentarily relieved to see she didn't bring out a can of mace or a knife. But he wasn't sure what he felt about the nine inch dong she was holding in one hand while she rummaged around with her other.

He watched as Samantha got out and walked slowly to the passenger cabin, let herself in and sat down beside Odessa.

"Hello, Oliver."

He looked across from one woman to the other, trying to figure out what was going to happen next. Neither woman's expression told him a darn thing.

"Erm, hi?"

"You can undo your seat belt now."

"Okay. Oxford?"

"Not yet. There's some business to attend to first."

He decided he needed to take the situation in hand. "I really mustn't be late, you know. I welcome the opportunity to talk, I really do, but..."

"Shut up, Oliver. Or you won't get to Oxford at all."

"Right."

"And we're not going to talk."

"We're not?"

"No. Odessa and I are going to be too busy."

"You are?"

"Yup. But you're welcome to wait here 'til we're done. Actually, do you mind swapping seats? Yours is longer. Oh, and take your clothes off."

"Whoohoo!"

Oliver stripped, building a quick pile on the cabin floor of his suit, shirt, tie, everything including his shoes and socks. He beamed happily at the impassive women as his cock nodded 'hello', and then remembered he was supposed to move. He crouched low towards their side of the cabin and Samantha and Odessa got up and slithered past him, momentarily putting him in the middle of a loving sandwich. He giggled as he felt a hand caress the inside of one thigh from behind, and beamed at Samantha as she smoothed her tits across his chest.

"Oh-kay!"

"Sit down and shut up, Oliver."

"Yes Ma'am." And he did.

He sat and stayed quietly still while Odessa pulled off Samantha's blazer and undid her blouse. His eyes grew round as saucers and his mouth made a big open 'O' when he saw Samantha was wearing the same open cup mesh bra as Odessa, only Samantha's was white. Her pinky brown nipples were puffy but soon perked up when Odessa tweaked and licked them.

When Odessa pulled Samantha's blouse off and sat astride her to give her a long, full French kiss, he leaned over and smiled appreciatively as four tits and four hands smooshed and rolled and squeezed and pinched, but he didn't say a word.

He frowned concernedly, nodded and made quiet, sympathetic noises when the women had to wriggle around to get their tight skirts off. He wanted to say how much he liked the matching open crotch panties with the ruffles around the waistbands and how nice their asses looked with the strips of mesh running down and around each cheek, but he held his peace.

He was only able to do this because his piece was finally getting some of the attention it had been clamoring for. He was happily in mid-stroke when Samantha noticed. Quite remarkable really, because at the time Odessa had slipped down onto the floor and was working her way seductively down Samantha's body with her tongue, and Samantha was mostly lying back with her eyes closed. But she snapped to when she saw Oliver's tool in his hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Stroking myself, dear; what does it look like?"

Odessa looked over, then looked at Samantha. "We need to explain the rules, no?"

Samantha nodded. "Dr. Barrie, we don't appreciate you playing with yourself like that."

"Well,you're kinda playing, aren't you? I mean..."

Odessa slid out from between Samantha's open legs, grabbed her tote bag and dragged it across the floor while Samantha sat upright and addressed her errant passenger.

"Let me make something perfectly clear here. What we do is of no concern to you. You can wait quietly and behave yourself while we do our thing, or you can walk to Oxford, it's up to you."

"No fair! This is..."

"Fair? Fair?! I wouldn't use that word here, if I were you! One more peep out of you and you're on your own, do you hear me?"

Odessa glanced at Samantha, nodded once, and then they both rushed him. He had a brief, fast impression of flying hands and boobs in his face. He was delighted. Then he was pulled forward and thrown back upright again. When everything finally slowed down, his wrists were bound behind his back.

"Hey!"

Odessa smiled and asked, sweetly, "Would you like to be gagged as well?"

Oliver considered this for a moment and decided he wouldn't.

"Um, no, thank you."

Samantha explained the rest of "the rules": "Well then, keep quiet and we'll let you watch, okay?"

"But what about this?" He nodded to his rather red proboscis standing bolt upright above his swelling scrotum.

"We've decided we don't mind that. It can stay like that."

"No, I mean, well... Aww, c'mon ladies! When do I get my share?"

"Odessa, where were we?"

"I was about to lick you, darling. Why don't you lie back and get comfortable?"

She did. Odessa put her mouth to Samantha's smooth pussy lips and for the next three minutes Oliver chewed his bottom lip while he watched Samantha softly caress Odessa's hair, twist her own nipples, and gradually open her legs wider and wider to Odessa's loving, long, unrelenting ministrations.

Samantha was in the middle of a fit of mewing noises when Oliver decided he couldn't stand it any longer. He'd come six inches off the seat and was about to lurch forward when Odessa's leg shot out and her foot landed squarely in the middle of his chest. He was knocked firmly back on his bare ass.

"Oof! Aww!! Come on! I can't do this. I just can't. For pity's sake, this isreally frustrating."

When neither Samantha nor Odessa even so much as looked at him, Dr. Oliver Barrie started stamping his feet like a five year-old.

"Let me play! I wanna play too! Let me get some of this or let me out of the fucking car!"

Samantha looked over at him and sighed. "We'll have to help him, Odessa."

Odessa nodded. "Yes, dear. He can't help himself, that's for sure."

They got up and sat side-by-side, open legged and smiling across at him.

"You do want some help, don't you, Oliver?" Odessa asked.

Oliver stared from one smooth, wet, shiny pussy to the other and sighed with relief. "Oh God, yes! Yes! Please, please help me. I do so very much want you to help me."

"Okay then," Samantha said.

When they were done this time, Oliver's head, neck and upper torso had been duct-taped to the back of the leather seat.

"Ladies, this isn't what I meant."

Samantha's response was peremptory and brief. "Be careful what you wish for... Now then, where were we, dear?"

"I was about to put that dong we bought into you, sweetie. Why don't you slide up and spread your legs out nice and wide? Lean back a little... let me see, show me... ooh, so nice and wet, such a good girl..."

Oliver groaned. "Don't do it... please don't do it... Oh God, she's doing it..."

Samantha held her legs wide open with her hands against the insides of her knees and leaned into the back of the seat; Odessa sat to the side of her pussy so as not to block Oliver's view, and put the head of the pink, thickly veined dildo between Samantha's gleaming pussy lips and prodded and twisted, and ran long, slow circles around her opening sex.

Oliver knew he could close his eyes, and he also knew he couldn't.

"How is that, sweetheart?"

"Mmmm; I love how you do that!"

"More?"

"Oh yes! Please, Odessa."

"Oh God... that's looks so nice... ladies, my balls are aching..."

"Here you go dear; maybe just an inch? There... nice and slow... and out... and a little bit more... and in... and out... is this good?"

"Oh, it's so good, Odessa! More? Please?"

"Of course, darling. I'll work it in for you. Here..."

"Oh! Oh!"

"Oh My God... I wanna do that to her, please? Please could I? Let me give her a real cock... she'd like it, I know she would."

"Odessa!... Mmmm..."

Odessa fished out a little, fat, silver bullet from her bag. "Here... take this and use it on yourself..."

Samantha's head rolled back as she worked the vibrator against her little secret, swollen shaft. Oliver was groaning, his tool hard, throbbing and oozing pre-cum.

"Oh... Oh, Odessa..."

Samantha's body was stretching out and tensing, and her breathing was coming in little panting gasps as Odessa began to work her hard. The dildo was disappearing deeply and smoothing out of her in long, quickening thrusts. Odessa looked over quizzically at Oliver, then gave him a wink and a smile.

"Oh Jesus H. Christ would one of you bitches please, please sit on my cock? Something? Please? Oh God... Odessa, let me bring her off. Please? Just bring her over here. Have pity, Odessa... my balls hurt so bad..."

"Oh, Odessa...Oh, oh!..."

"Oh God, she's gonna cum..."

"That's right, darling... give it to me..."

"OH! OH... OHHH!"

"Oh, sweet baby, look at that... oh God, she's cumming... Wow! Oh God, I wanna pump it in her..."

Samantha couldn't hear any of it. She was lost, riding cataclysmic waves of shuddering spasms, squealing and clenching and shaking down to her tightly curled toes. At this point, Oliver forgot all about Alcander.

"Odessa? Odessa, I wanna make it up to you... let me off this seat. It'll be better than the last time, even. Please? Please Odessa? Odessa, will you please let me put it in you before my fucking balls fall off? Please? Odessa, MY BALLS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!"

Odessa patted the semi-conscious Samantha lovingly on a thigh, smiled sweetly at Oliver as she moved over to her bag and rummaged. She pulled out a fiercely pink contraption that reminded him of a crab claw, and slowly, fondly, began smearing it with lube. It was flexible, around five inches long to the tip of one fat arm and four inches to the tip of the other, slimmer extension. The littlest arm was like a string of big, fat beads. Oliver noted it got the most lube and didn't need much more to tell him where it was going.

"Whoah!"

She turned around to present her pussy and ass to Oliver's wide-eyed view, spread her feet apart, bent forward over the seat next to the faintly moaning chauffeuse and slowly inserted the thick arm into her pussy. Oliver heard the sound of the tool's deep hum inside her and his cock pulsed wildly, oozing yet more pre-cum.

"Oh, no! Let me do that for you Odessa, I could do it darling, I could do it real good; I could do it with MY FUCKING COCK! AAAARGH! LET ME, ODESSA! LET ME PLEEEEEEEESE!"

The bendy string of beads poked jauntily between her scantily clad cheeks. Samantha giggled and crawled around to peep at Oliver from beside Odessa's gently rocking ass.

"Doesn't she look good, Oliver? Don't you wish you had some of this?"

Oliver sighed, pouted, and blinked pitifully as he watched Samantha take the vibrator from Odessa's hand. His balls were tinged just the slightest blue.

"I'm going to do her, Oliver. I'm going to slide the fat one out of her pussy, and when I slide it back in, the little one's going to go..."

She pulled the vibrator out of Odessa almost to the head, pressed a finger to the beaded arm to aim it...

"between her cheeks, and then..."

The tip of the end sphere touched Odessa's sensitive rim...

"ever so slowly, up..."

Odessa's head snapped up as she felt one arm of the humming tool easing deeper into her wet quim and the other arm pushing insistently at her back door...

"into..."

The door opened slightly, and Oliver gave an involuntary squeak as the first bead slid in.

Odessa was moaning. "Oh, yes... I want to take it for you, darling..."

"I know... here we go, nice and easy... "

Oliver was moaning almost as loud as Odessa, who broke into a series of guttural gasps as the anal arm slipped further into her, one jelly sphere at a time, until Odessa tumbled over the edge.

"Fuck me, Samantha! Take me; I'm your whore... Yes! Both my holes... Oooo! Oo!"

"Um, does she want something for her mouth, too? Turn her around a minute, Sammie. Go on, be a sport. Please?"

Samantha ignored Oliver, and Odessa ignored everybody and everything except for the agonizing pleasure of her full back passage and the beads' contours pressing against her buzzing pussy wall. Her thick mane was flying as she writhed and her fingernails were pressing hard into the seat's thick leather.

Samantha tilted the tool and worked it inside Odessa in slow gyrations, occasionally reaching over her and slapping the whore's cheeks with a quick, stinging flip. Odessa's legs spread even further apart as she rested her head on the seat, reached down, and started stroking her clit, eyes closed and moaning softly.

Samantha reached under her and joined her there, rubbing a fingertip against the other side of her clit; then she quickly pulled the whole vibrator out of Odessa's clenching pussy and ass, twisted the vibrator around, and rammed the thick part back into her pussy with the vibrating beads now against her clit.

Odessa screamed and bucked, legs splayed and back arching, rubbing and slamming herself hard on the slippery tool wherever she could feel it, whiplash running through her spine to her wildly flying hair as Samantha slapped her cheeks again and again.

"Ooooo! Ooo! Ooo! Cumming! Oh! Oh!... Eieeeeeee!"

Oliver's balls were balls were decidedly blue and his cock was ramrod stiff against his belly, reaching determinedly but totally ineffectively for something, anything, that would bring it relief.

"That's it. This isn't funny... my balls are going to explode, you fucking BITCHES! Let me out of this car, NOW! I mean it! Fuck the pair of you, I'm walking to Oxford!"

"Well, have some compassion, Dr. Barrie, give us a moment. Can't you see Odessa's exhausted?"

Odessa was slumped across the lounge seat, legs stretched out behind her.

"Let me out! Lemme out, lemmeoutlemmeout! NOW! I'm in pain! Oh GOD, lemme out of this fucking car!"

His grey-blue eyes were sparking dangerously and Samantha decided it was time. They weren't going to do it for him, but she'd wait while he brought himself off.

"You don't have to walk to Oxford, Oliver." She started peeling off the duct tape.

"You don't actually think I'm going anywhere with you, do you?"

"Come on, I said I wouldn't abandon you. I'll get you there."

"Fuck you."

The last piece of tape came free.

"Get the fucking ropes off."

"Okay, just lean forward a bit. You asked for this, you know?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"There. All done. You're not seriously just going to wander out in the road, are you?"

He scooped up his clothes and shoes. "What do you care?"

"You know, you're being really child... hey, wait!"

His hand was on the door handle, the door was open and he was through it, in only his birthday suit, before she could finish. She watched him fumble with his socks and shoes a moment before heading into the wooded thicket beside the motorway. She sucked on the insides of her cheeks and twisted her mouth in an acid, knowing smile. He sure looked like he had some urgent business to attend to in that wood.

Fifteen minutes later, when she and Odessa were once again dressed, sufficiently recovered, and heading back to London, she saw him at the turnoff trying to thumb a lift westwards. She frowned, considered turning back, then shrugged and pressed her foot determinedly on the gas.

Some miles further down the motorway, she looked over at Odessa sitting dreamily beside her, a sunlit aura of gleaming bronze around her peaceful features.

"Happy?"

"Like I haven't been in years, darling. Thank you."

"No, thank you! Revenge is sweet, isn't it?"

"Wonderful!"

The car purred, echoing their contentment as they eased the few miles back to Soho.

"Odessa?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Odessa stretched expansively, then turned towards Samantha and curled up sideways in the seat, hugging herself contentedly.

"Alcander," she said, softly.

Samantha smiled under her peaked hat, and nodded.

*******

Alcander peered out of the rental Ford Mondeo LX at the upcoming turnoff. Not specifically at the turnoff, more at the 6' 2" silver-haired figure standing on its wide, grassy edge looking truly incongruous for a hitchhiker in a dark grey, worsted wool suit. He swung a hard left at the corner and pulled to a sharp stop beside him.

"Oliver? What the...? Get in, my friend!"

Oliver pulled the door open with enough force to pull it off its hinges, and slammed himself in.

"Don't ask, Alcander. Okay?"

"Okay."

They sat, engine running, going nowhere. Both staring straight ahead.

"Alcander?"

"Yes?"

"What's the problem?"

"No problem, Oliver."

"So why aren't we moving?"

"I can't ask you anything."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I don't know what happened but you don't look like you're going to Oxford. I mean, you don't have your briefcase, or anything. And we're awfully late. I was going to be late, that was okay, but you weren't. I, um, don't know what we're doing, Oliver."

Oliver thought about it. The engine chugged. Alcander sat perfectly still, waiting.

"You weren't going to go to Oxford, were you?"

"Oh yes, I was, Oliver, I was! That's how I saw you. That's why I have this car, and everything. I was going to help you, remember?"

"Yes, yes, but before that. You were just going to get Odessa and take her back to Greece, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry about that. But that's all changed now. I told you: she won't have me."

"Yeah? Well fuck the fucking do-gooders in Oxford. I said I was going to help you: let's do some real negotiating today! What d'ya say we go find Odessa, hmmm?"

"You serious?"

"Never more serious in my life. I said I'd talk to her. I've decided now's the time. Point your trusty charger at London, my friend. There are battles to be fought, wars to be won, the resolution of long travails. We are beginning the end of a long journey, you and me. The end of all our travels beckons, the final prize of all our adventures lies before us, ready to be claimed. So let us go jubilantly, finally victorious, vanquishing, undaunted and unrelenting! You got a cell phone? I lost mine."

"Um, no."

"Okay, fuck that too. Let's get the hell over to Soho. We'll talk strategy on the way. What d'ya say?"