The Chauffeuse

I quickly tidied myself and made sure my zipper was closed before I settled back behind the wheel and glanced into the rearview mirror. "Where to, sir?"

"Home, I guess. 3039 Dannyhill Drive."

"Do you have a car, sir?"

"Why? Want to get rid of me?" he asked, his tone playful.

"No, sir, but if you'd left your car at the Rose Bowl..."

He shook his head. "No. I was a guest of Allure's, and they sent a car."

"Very good, sir." I wasn't familiar with the address, so I repeated it for the satnav. "I have it, sir. We'll arrive in about forty-five minutes."

He waved his hand as he picked up his pants. "That's fine. Do you think you could stop somewhere so I can get a water or something?"

"Of course, sir."

He smiled at me as I slowly, and carefully, pulled away from Allure's plane. "What's your name?"

"You may call me Driver, sir." His smile spread.

"No need to be so formal with me. I'm Richard. Richard Woodcock."

"Yes, sir."

"You believe that?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Why wouldn't I, sir?" He held my gaze, a faint smile on his lips. He clearly wanted me to ask. "Is that really your name, sir?"

"Not my real name, no. That's my stage name. My real name is Jantzen Knuel."

"Very good, Mr. Knuel."

"Call me Jantzen.

"Of course, Jantzen, sir," I said with a smile.

His smile spread. He had a nice smile. "Just Jantzen, please."

"As you wish, Jantzen." He began pulling on his pants. "So, Driver, now that you know my real name, do I get yours? Driver is so... impersonal."

I glanced at him as I made my way out of the airport. "Carol."

"Thank you. So, did you really come, or was that just some shit that bitch was saying?" I was quiet for a long moment, unsure of what to say. "Ah, okay," he said. "Don't sweat it. It doesn't bother me. I'm used to it." I held his gaze as I waited on a light, and he could read the questioning in my eyes. "I'm an... actor."

His stage name, the size of his cock, and his ability to fuck all came together as realization dawned. I glanced away, but not before I saw him smile.

"That's right," he said with curt nod. I said nothing. "So, you're not talking to me now?"

"Not at all, sir... Jantzen. What you do is none of my concern."

"We're regular people with regular jobs."

I glanced at him. "Not that regular."

"You'd be surprised. I get up, go to work, work hard, and then go home, just like you." I snickered at his choice of words. "There," he said, his voice teasing. "That's more like it." He paused. "You have a nice smile."

"Thank you." I saw a convenience store ahead. "Is this okay?"

He was wearing his pants, jacket, and shoes, but no shirt or socks as he leaned over to look through the windshield. "Yeah, that's fine. You want something? It's on me."

"No thank you."

I pulled into the market and stopped in front of the door. "Don't bother," he said as I released my seatbelt. "I can open my own door," he continued as he opened the door and stepped out, Allure's panties in his hands.

I prepared to cringe when he slammed the door, but he eased it shut as I had, and I relaxed. As he passed my door, I opened it and stepped out into the warm night air and moved to stand beside the rear door. I turned just in time to see the panties go into the trashcan beside the door as he entered.

The Phantom caused quit the spectacle as I waited for Jantzen to return. Less than five minutes after he entered, he appeared with two bottles of water. I opened the rear door for him, furtively glancing at the seats to see if they'd stained them, but he walked around to the other side.

"Mind if I sit up front with you?"

Relieved that I saw no obvious stains on the glove soft leather of the seats, I closed the door. "No."

"Good," he responded with a grin as he opened the door and settled inside.

I hadn't noticed it until I'd stepped outside and then returned to the car, but the inside of the Rolls reeked of sex. He handed me one of the bottles before twisting the lid off his and taking a long pull. With a mental shrug, I closed the convex mirror before I opened my bottle and took a sip. After twisting the lid back on, I placed the bottle in the door and backed out of the parking place.

"So, Carol, is this what you do? Drive rich and famous people around all night?"

I smiled at him. "No. I work for Warner Bros. This is a side gig."

"Actress?"

"Accountant."

"Ah. You could be and actress. You're very pretty. Wholesome... natural... you know? You'd be perfect as the sweet and sexy assistant to some bitch boss." I glanced at him, and he snickered. "Seriously."

"Right..." I said, drawling the word out.

"No, really. You probably won't believe me, but I prefer women like you over women like Allure."

"Right..." I repeated, again drawing the word out as I had before.

"Really. The people I work with... a lot of them are nice, but they're so... fake... especially when we're working." He shrugged. "Of course, who am I to talk." He nodded to the back seat. "That shit back there, all the screaming and yelling and shit like that? That's all fake, something I was doing because she expected it... just like on set. Fucking in front of the camera isn't really fucking. I mean it is, but we have takes and direction, just like in any other movie. To be honest, it's not much fun. I'd much rather fuck a normal woman, like a regular guy, so I can enjoy it. With a regular woman, I don't have to worry so much about coming, staying hard, and fucking in those crazy ass position that nobody enjoys just so some asshole can jerk off... and all the other shit."

"Really? You didn't enjoy tonight? It sure seemed like you did." I couldn't believe the difference between the man that had crawled into the back seat with Allure, and this guy sitting beside me. I found it fascinating.

He bobbed his head side to side and scrunched his features into a playful considering face. "It was a little better than when in front of a camera because I didn't have some director asshole off to the side telling us to do this or that, or when to come, that sort of thing, but no, not really. She expected something from me, and I gave it to her. When I'm with a woman, and I'm not fucking her in front of a camera, I don't do that shit," he said with another nod to the backseat. He paused for a moment as his playful expression slowly disappeared. "Not unless that's what she's looking for."

I nodded slowly as we motored along. "Interesting. How do you know Allure?"

"I don't. Her promoter introduced us at the concert, told her who I was, and she wanted to take me on." He shrugged. "It happens a lot. Everyone wants to fuck a porn star... even women."

"Do you always fuck them?"

"Usually," he said softly. "Especially if she's sexy. Not good for your career to be a porn star who can't, or won't, fuck a sexy woman on a moment's notice. That shit gets around and then producers start to think you're washed up."

I grunted. "So Allure knew who you were?"

"Beats me. Maybe. I've been in a few things."

"Like what?"

"I was Vlad in Vlad the Impaler and Garth Invader in Star Whores. I was also in a couple of gonzos that went big, Bras Busters and Rock Cocks, but most people recognize me as Jim Cockford from The Cockford Files series. The rest..." He shrugged again. "They were just low budget day shoots. Show up at a motel or house, fuck some woman in front of the camera however the director wanted it, get my pay, and go home." He grinned. "I haven't even set up my own website." His smile spread. "Not for that, anyway."

I was warming to him. He was nothing like I'd assumed he was from what I'd witnessed in the backseat... or how I imagined porn stars. "You're very nonchalant about it all."

"Why shouldn't I be. It's a job, just like yours."

"Hardly like mine."

"More than you think, I bet. Before I broke into the business, I framed houses down in Texas. Same shit happened building houses that happens on a set. Prima donnas walking off the job, people not showing up or showing up stoned, or someone getting all pissy about something and not doing what they're told. The biggest difference I can tell is that now I'm pounding pussy instead of nails."

I snickered again. We talked some more about what he did, because his life was far more interesting that mine. He was funny, easy to talk to, and I found it surprising that porn was simply a steppingstone in his life. When he wasn't fucking, he had a shop where he built high end, one-of-a-kind furniture for the rich of Los Angeles. He said he still made more money fucking than he did building furniture, but the gap was narrowing, and as soon as his furniture business caught up to his porn income, he was quitting the trade.

You have arrived at your destination, the Phantom said just before I turned into his drive. I didn't know what I expected from his home, maybe red neon, blacked out windows, and whores hanging around, but his modest house looked like all the others on the street. All the homes had clearly been built in the swinging sixties, and his suited him.

"Want to come in?" he asked.

"I should go."

He smiled. "Okay, if you're sure. I wouldn't want to leave you... unsatisfied." He grinned at me. "It's bad for my reputation."

I couldn't stop my grin. "Is that so?" He nodded as he smiled back at me. "You think you can get it up again after all that in the back seat?"

"Want to come in and find out?"

I considered it. "No. I really need to go. I have to work in the morning."

He nodded before he pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket and extracted a business card. "Have a pen?"

I opened the center console, retrieved the pen that stayed there to record our time and the mileage of the car, and handed it to him. He quickly drew three lines through his stage name and contact information on the front of the card, flipped it over, and wrote 'Jantzen Knuel' with a phone number below on the back. He clicked the pen and handed it and the card to me. I found the spelling of his name interesting. He pronounced his last name 'Newal,' and I'd thought his first name was Jansen, not Jantzen, though now that I saw the spelling, I realized the slight 'T' sound I'd heard in his first name had been intentional.

"In case you change your mind," he said before opening the door. "Maybe we can have dinner sometime."

I took the card. "I'll think about it."

"Let me get my shirt and tie out of the back."

I waited while he opened the rear door, pulled his shirt to him, and gently closed the door. I smiled. Having him treat the car with respect won him some points. He bent over and peered at me through the front window. I rolled it down as I pulled one of my cards from my pocket and handed it to him. It was a Premier Transportation card, but it had my name on it, Caroline Moore, and Premier could reach me.

He took the card from my fingers, glanced at it, and smiled. "Sleep well."

"You too."

He stood and I rolled the window back up. As I backed out of the drive and pulled away, I smiled, wondering what he'd be like while fucking me. I hoped he'd be gentle because I'd never taken a man so big. As I drove, I wondered if I could handle him and how it'd feel to have such a massive cock inside me. A small smile touched my lips as I thought of his card in my jacket pocket.

I certainly wasn't up for fucking him in the backseat of a car being driven around downtown LA, but in a more intimate setting? I wasn't overly interest in fucking Richard Woodcock, porn star, but I could see myself maybe fucking Jantzen Knuel, furniture maker.

I'd wait a few days and see how I felt about dinner with him. If he didn't reach out to me, maybe I'd give him a call, and if he was willing to wait a few dates, I might be inclined to give Mr. Jantzen Kneul another ride.