Tonya.

No, Mr. Cabby had other problems with his wife. But who cared -- Tonya didn't? Although she was always up for a good feed, when the opportunity presented itself...!

Tonya shook the cabby. He was out for the night! She rubbed her hand between her legs, coating it with her scent, and waved it under the sleeping cabbie's nose, and she stuck her love-cream-coated fingers half an inch up each of his nostrils.

The cabbie's cock twitched, then filled rapidly, and rose up, peeling back his foreskin from the bulging knob at the end.

Tonya knew then that there was more semen hidden in his balls. And she was still hungry...! The cabby was almost comatose, Tonya looked around; the street was deserted. She slapped him across the face a few times but he didn't budge. She reached down and undid a shoe lace of his, and wrestled-off one of his tennis shoes. Next she pushed down his pants and jockey-shorts and slipped one leg out of them. She checked the street again, it was clear. Tonya pulled his freed leg up and anchored it behind the steering wheel, and then she pulled the other leg up - the one with the rest of his clothes, and tennis shoe still on it. Tonya lifted his ball-sack to make sure she had unimpeded access to his hairy bung-hole

She waved her stinky finger under his nose again, and the cabbie's rod stiffened like a telegraph pole -- instantly!

Tonya checked the street again, it was vacant! She crawled in over the cab's front bench seat, gently repositioning the cabbie's head over to the side a touch, so she could get her knee down around his head. She gripped the cabbie's head between her ankles, and slowly lowered her musky undercarriage down over his face.

As he breathed in the pheromones from Tonya's stinking gash his balls rose up inside their hairy sack, and his pole became so rigid his cock bent like a banana! She checked the area once more, through the windows of the cab -- the street was deserted -- and then, she wet her finger in her mouth, and descended upon the cab driver's pole.

She opened her mouth, the way she had practice so often in her adolescence; in her bedroom, with the door locked; with the bratwurst sausage and the olive oil; and she learned -- yes, she learned how to do it!

The cabbie's granite rod, slipped, unceremoniously, through her lips, over her tongue, between her tonsils, down -- around her throat -- passed her knobble epiglottis, and slipped, tightly, into the very esophagus tube itself. Why, with a little head movement,

"It has must feel like he's fucking a tight, naughty virgin's dripping-wet beaver-hole?" thought Tonya, with a pang of envy and jealousy.

Tonya rubbed her stinking hole, over the cab driver's face, with care not to rouse him and filled his nostrils with her love-cream and pungent aroma. The cab drivers balls tried to hide up in his lower abdomen, but Tonya caught the little buggers and pulled them down to the bottom of their sack. There she held them in her clenched hand, gently squeezing and releasing them -- massaging them -- coaxing every available iota of sperm out of them. Tonya did this, whilst fucking the red-end of his masculine protuberance with her female enticement, encapsulated in the tightness of her esophageal tube's ability to accept the phallic intrusion.

Tonya worked the driver's pole without judgment. She was, simply -- peckish.

Tonya pushed her wetted finger into the cabbie's dirt-hole, and rummaged around in there, until she found his gland. She tickled it, stroked it -- made love to it.

Tonya worked the knob-end of his meat-stem rhythmically with her tight food-tube. She dug her nail into his prostate, and as he unconsciously shuddered, she felt his protein cream shooting down her feeding-tube, directly into her hungry little belly. Tonya counted: eight, nine, and ten... She came up for air, then straight back down on the pole, before it softened. This time she went so deep, that she stuffed his balls and ball sack into her mouth, pushing every inch of his 10 inch love-rod down her neck. She closed her teeth around the ball-bag. Tonya's tummy wasn't quite full yet, and she reached back between her thighs and wet her hand up to the wrist with her dripping labial lips. By now, Tonya was growling, and tearing the cab driver's lower torso around by his cock-pole and nut-sack, like a terrier, shaking a play-toy about. She wanted her food! And she was determined to get it.

Tonya lifted the cab driver's ass up off the seat with her head and teeth, dragging him up by the cock and balls. She threaded her body through his legs, shoving them under her arms, locking his ankles together around the back of her neck, exposing his hairy stink-hole to her, for her express, unimpeded use.

If Tonya didn't get her fill of cream out of his nut sack, she contemplated just snapping her jaws tight; tearing the meat-rod and knackers out of his crotch, and swallowing them whole. She was famished! Tonya kept the cab driver's love-rocket hard by sucking, and biting at his equipment like a starved hyena ripping at the flesh of carrion in the dead of night, when the lions slept.

The hunger in her little tummy gnawed at her gut. She started to snarl, and hiss there in the cab, as her gyrating hips waxed the cab driver's face, somewhere under her plaid tiny mini-skirt: Her open gash and dripping-hole, forcing her stink up into his nostrils, ramming her odor into his unconscious screaming sensibilities. It was feeding time at the zoo, and this animal was past her time.

She folded her love-greased fingers into an arrow-head, tucked her thumb into her palm, centered them over the cabbie's puckered bung-hole, and slid her creamed hand completely into the driver's ass-chamber. The cabbie let out a muffled groan, unconsciously, from between Tonya's dripping vulva lips, as his bung-hole opened wide, to let her slimy knuckles through, then slammed shut gripping her wrist tight.

Tonya was running out of oxygen, the 10 inch cock rammed down her esophagus, along with a mouthful of nut sack had cut off her air supply.

Tonya seized hold of the cabbies prostate gland, and squeezed and rubbed and massaged it in through the wall of his ass-chamber. She tore at it, and pinched at it, digging her nails viciously into the ass-chamber's flesh, behind which throbbed the elusive almond shaped gland. If needed she was prepared to rip a hole in the driver's bowel to get at the prostrate directly.

Finally, it started to stiffen up! It was filling with semen. She knew her food was on the way... If only she had enough oxygen to see the job through...

Tonya gently caressed the prostate, tickling it and tantalizing it now -- coaxing at it through the wall of the bowel, pleading with it with the aerie convect of her talon's touch; negotiating, arguing, playing-coy, weeping crocodile tears; resigning into diplomacy even, or entreaty - if that's what it took... Nay! The raw rage of hunger cauterizing the open wound of her insatiable want, betrayed her, and, in the end, she clawed like trapped ermine in cruel cages of cold Siberian wire. Tonya begged the gland to feed her; to give up its creamy payload --- or else!

Tonya took a second, in the dim light, to look at the cabbie's thickened mushroom-shaft. She had a pinch-hold on his prostrate tube deep up his ass with one hand, and a death-grip around the base of his rod, like shiny steel handcuffs hugging wrists of cheeky delinquents, with the other. She was in control! Nothing was going to happen -- unless she wanted it to. Tonya ground her stinking cunt hard into his face, as if it was her daddy under her.

"OoOoOoOoOW! Just wait daddy, just you fucking wait daddy...!" felt Tonya.

Tonya was honored as much as surprised, when she saw that her efforts had drawn-out a further two inches of length on the cabbie's cock, but it was the girth and helmet that made her blink most!

The helmet was red hot to the touch, and almost glowed with infra-red radiation in the dark of the cab.

Tonya studied the stalk's magnificence, and wondered if she could get the Devil's-Cap back down into her esophagus again. It was huge now: Some three full inches in diameter across the fringe of the helmet, and so much blood had been forced into the knob-end it flushed magenta-red, through blue-purple, to dark brown-black.

Tonya became amused, as she watched the bulging mushroom of the cab driver's cock-helmet expand and flare like the hood of a frightened Frilled Neck Lizard every time she stroked his engorged prostrate; and she felt it so sweet, and quaint, when its red little eyelet - opening and shutting erratically - like a feeding goldfishes' mouth, desperately yearning to spew its semen-vomit out into the world -- outside of its nuts -- onto eggs. But Tonya had control, and as she used it, she empathically, felt the power of orgasm that tore into the cab driver's inners. As she watched his cock-end flutter and flare, and his gold-fish mouth open and shut chaotically, she felt his wife-starved sexual desire being filled within him. Although Tonya was starving, she patiently allowed the cab driver to have close to forty dry-orgasms, pinching his prostrate tube, so that he couldn't ejaculate.

By the time Tonya felt that the cabbie's body couldn't take anymore, and that the deficit of his, wife-starved, sexual needs had been fulfilled, and the corresponding holes in his soul, darned, by Tonya's unselfish esophageal stroking of his 'Bishop's Head', his prostate gland had swollen up to the size of a small lemon, and it was full of hot, sticky cream, and she was famished! It was time for her to feed. She blinked at the sheer size of the mushroom-head, and the length of its stork, and prayed: She aimed to get it down her neck; all the way down, into her feeding tube: Tonya was going to milk the cabbies cream-reservoir, and milk it good: All the way down, down into the eager, starving-core, of her sweet little belly. She loved it.

Tonya reached around, pulled her mini up and tucked the hem down the waist-band of her skirt baring her bulbous gyrating buttocks, and she caught a glimpse of the taxi-driver's head laying there unconscious, between the steaming crack of her ass.

Tonya did the same to the front of her skirt. She was preparing for action, and she didn't want to soil her mini, if an 'accident' occurred between her legs as she fed. She was there, in the 69 position; in the front of the dimly-lit taxi-cab, kneeling over the cabbie. His limp, comatose, half-naked body folded in two under her; his skinny legs, locked at the ankle, behind her neck, her hand up his dirt-chute to the wrist, pinching off his prostate-evacuation-tube, preventing ejaculation - for now. Tonya stared intently at the 12 inch cock-feeding-nipple rising menacingly out of a walnut-crinkled scrotum sack, that housed two aching kernels yearning to set their soldier-sperm free, free to do their God given duty, of finding and fertilizing an egg, or two. Albeit, this time, their valiant quest will be nothing more than a wild goose chase, for them. Tonya held the key to their parole-release, and destination, but instead of a loving, warm, hot, steamy uterus for their landing zone, it would be Tonya's acid flooded belly, and pulverizing gut, where she will efficiently, and with impassionate detachment, assassinate each and every one of the taxi-driver's Spartans, discombobulating them, crushing them -- ripping them apart at the atomic level - ingesting the resulting broth, and finally; feeding her hungry body; assimilating his seed, into the very fiber of her Being. This was to be their -- unfortunate -- fate.

But Tonya was worried she had lingered too long there. She was bursting for a pee-pee, and a pong-pong! And all that gyrating had given her a one inch turtle head. It was all she could do to keep her fudge-hole squeezed tight around the tapered end of her Christmas-log, and she was concerned that if she came to orgasm, whilst feeding, then she could lose control, of both her golden-rain vent, and coal-scuttle hole, so she tucked her mini-skirt up out of the way, and hoped for the best.

Tonya forced the head of the cabbie's mushroom through her lips and teeth. The helmet flared, and the cabbie's body quivered, as he took another dry-orgasm. She tried to ram it through her tonsils, but her throat had dried a little from all the panting. She tried to pull the driver's cockie back out of her mouth, but the helmet caught fast on the inside of her teeth. There was only one way to get it out now, and that was to empty his knackers: Tonya would have to suck the gland dry, until the 12 inch nipple fell flaccid like a wet noodle - it was the only way now: But, this time, instead of it being a mammary gland, it was a prostate gland, and this time, it wasn't mother's milk she would be feeding on, but daddy's cream. Tonya began to salivated just on the thought of it!

Tonya had an idea. She located the throbbing head between her tonsils, pushing her uvular out of the way. She worked her hand in and out of the driver's stink hole, until she felt his body quake and the prostrate tremble in her hand -- he was having an orgasm. She released her pinch-hold on his prostate tube, and almost immediately, two powerful blasts of hot, slimy jizz stung the back of her throat, and filled her mouth. She coated the head of the mushroom, oiled her tonsils, and let the excess drivel down the rigid stem.

Tonya straightened, and opened, her throat: Took a huge lungful of air in through her flared nostrils: Put her hand over the back of her cranium, and forced her head slowly, but relentlessly, with unyielding, irresistible force downward, sliding the massive proboscis down her greased throat, gagging and retching as the enormous blue helmet pushed her epiglottis clear out of the way, and forced its way, painfully, a full 12 inches down into her tight-fitting esophageal feeding tube. Tonya knew that there was no turning back now. Her air supply was cut off, and the cabbie's meat-pole was lodged a foot down inside her. It was all or nothing. Empty the nut sack dry, so that the stiff rod would collapse, allowing her to pull the flaccid tube out of her head, or die of asphyxiation on the pole, shitting and pissing in her death throes, into her innocent executioner's face. Just think of the headlines in the morning papers!

"Taxi-Driver, gives vamp, her last Ride...!"

Why, what -- would! - her mother think?

Tonya started working the rod with a vengeance; her head bobbing up and down like a crazed pigeon running for crumbs in a crowded Trafalgar Square! She released the prostrate tube, when she felt an orgasmic tremor rushing through the cabbie's folded body, pushing down hard on the shaft, holding her head still, stretching the foreskin back tight, pulling the helmet's eyelet open wide, and squeezing the rigid shaft hard then releasing, then hard again, with her powerful throat muscles, simulating vaginal orgasmic muscle contractions.

Even though the cabbie was comatose, from coming earlier, nevertheless, his autonomic sympathetic nervous system felt everything Tonya was doing to it. And as she massaged and squeezed his exploding prostrate, and his unconscious body heaved under her, his rock-hard meat-rocket vomited shot after shot, of thick, viscous, steaming-hot, sperm directly down into her grumbling tummy. Tonya got 14 shots out of the first run, before pinching off the prostrate tube.

She worked the pole, rhythmically sword-swallowing the full length of the meat-saber. The flared helmet battering into her epiglottis on the up-stroke; getting stuck there, before Tonya rammed it down her tube again, all the way!

At the same time Tonya worked the cabbies ass-hole something shameful! When she felt the prostrate bulge and the cabbie groan and shudder - his hairy stink-ring, grabbing her wrist tight - she knew he was coming again. Tonya bottomed out, her nose rammed into his scrotum, her eyes, watching her hand, just an inch away, doing his log-hole with her arm; her choking throat forcing the cock-eye open, releasing the prostrate, and flexing her esophagus muscles. Sometimes Tonya would ad-lib, gnawing at the base of the meat-pole with her teeth. This would do it, and she opened her belly allowing spurt after spurt of rod-cream to splash into her greedy little gut. Tonya massaged and wrung the prostrate until it subsided, then pinched it off again, working the pole with her oscillating cranium, and piston-like arm in and out of his pong-pong hole -- she did this time after time, and although she felt her tummy was very full now, the cabbie still had a raging hard on, and Tonya couldn't get the rod out of her throat until he was done fucking her throat!

Tonya was blacking out from lack of oxygen, but the cabbie kept filling her belly with more and more cockie cream. Tonya started to cry, she was afraid, and her lungs felt as if they were going to burst in her heaving chest. Her tummy was so full, and distended, that it had pushed her belly-button out some two inches. She could hear the semen sloshing about in her gut. She looked a full eight months pregnant.

The lack of oxygen, together with a massive input of raw protein that was being digested, and pumped hot, into her bloodstream, caused her to partially lose control of her abdominal, sphincter and bladder muscles. Her clout and ass gyrations slowed to a twitch, as she diverted all available oxygen from her pelvic region, up into her neck and throat muscles.

The courageous little angel was now, pumping the cabbie's rigid rod, with all she had. Her gut and belly was filled to the brim with thick, slimy cock-cream, and now, her very esophagus was beginning to fill. She sobbed as she pumped the cabbies huge stiff meat-pole, and as he squirted more and more love cream into her, she knew that if he filled her tube up to her epiglottis, her lungs would fill with sperm, and that would be the end of her. Tonya had to keep going though, until the cabbie's nut were emptied, and his rod would go soft enough for her to pull it out of her.

Tonya's sweet little head was pumping the driver's cockie for her very life now. It was going to be close, but she felt a little softening of the cock in her throat, she courageously kept-up the furious pace, and in her mind, she blamed his wife, for allowing the massive build-up of 'come' in the cabbies balls. She thought,

"The fucking lazy Bitch...! By the negligence of her marital sexual duty, the fucking Bitch is going to drown me with her husband's semen. The Bitch is killing me!"

Tonya lost control of her urethra first, and started pissing over the cabbie's face like a race-horse. Then, she lost control of her exhausted sphincter muscle.

Tonya barely had enough consciousness left to realize that her turtle-head was coming, and it was coming fast. It was hot, and steamy, and huge, and pungent.

Tonya managed to rotate her bung-hole, until it hovered directly over the cabbies mouth. Once located there, she let her log slip from her, into the empty chamber of the cabbie's head.

Tonya's pungent hole-log slithered into the driver's mouth, filling it to the brim. As it hit the back of his throat, she carried on laying, and raised her bottie up until it finally stuck out of his lips a good ten inches.

The fumes steamed up the taxi-driver's nose, and acted like smelling salts, partly rousing him, and breaking the vicious circle of his incessant ejaculation into Tonya's turgid belly. His rod immediately fell flaccid. Just as Tonya was about to black-out, she felt the stiffness of his stem lessen: She rolled off to the side, pulling the limp cock out of her head with the momentum of the fall; landing -- gasping - flat on her back over the front of the taxi floor, her hand still up the cabbie's ring. She pulled it out with a sloppy pop! He grunted. Tonya rolled around on the floor, projectile vomit shooting high up into the dim light in white, sticky, plumes of ejecta: The air-born semen-lava, reaching the height of its eruptive throw, out of the Mt. Vesuvius Tonya's mouth, reversing its trajectory; the pyroclastic flow splashing back down into her gasping face, soaking her hair and clothes with steaming hot sperm.