Fiction: Taxicab Confessional Continued

I must have looked at him with some fear mixed into my lust because he smiled and kissed my check tenderly. His lips moved back my cheek to my ear so he could whisper: Are you ready?

Did I mention he was strong?

Suddenly he grabbed me and dragged me into his lap with my back to his chest. One hand reached around and pinched my nipple, drawing it out. The other hand slid around and pulled my skirt up in the front (very easy to do as it was one of those floaty full things hitting just above the knee). I was about as exposed as I could get; my cunt bared and visible with the scent of my arousal heavy in the cab, and my breast hanging out as his personal plaything. All those red lights were really ending up in the cab drivers favor; with every one he was getting more and more bold with his watchful eye. In my position up on his lap my upper half was also visible to other people in other taxis and cars and I heard the occasional honk or holler. Half of me was embarrassed, my face burning in shame. The other half highly aroused and that half was a dead giveaway.

He suddenly told the driver to pull over and let us out. As the driver put the cab in park he turned around in his seat and stared at my body full on, mere inches away, with this horribly wonderful lecherous smirk. He let me slide off while he paid and I quickly fixed my shirt and bra, readjusting myself to be covered. I could see we were in a neighborhood full of brownstone style apartments and houses. The rain had let up and as we exited the cab I could feel only the sensuous humidity in the air.

He led me to the steps of the closest building. Staring at me with equal parts lust and power he stepped close and in 2 seconds flat had my shirt over my head and off before I had time to protest much less stop him. It might have been evening where I had the cover of darkness but this was no sleepy neighborhood. He backed up until he was sitting on the third step and pulled me onto his lap, straddling him. He reached underneath and I thought he would pull out his cock and fuck me right there – would I have cared? No, not at that point.

But as usual he was full of surprises. With the hand underneath me he began stroking my sopping wet cunt so lightly that I bucked on his hand, pressing into him, needing more. As he finally sunk two fingers into me, using his free hand he flipped the back of my skirt up and tucked it into my waistband, affording anyone walking by a full view of my ass and the hand under me. I no longer cared. Let the world watch. His thumb grazed my clit and I cried out. His thumb ground into my clit and I moaned with pent up frustration.

I pressed my pussy against his hand as hard as I could for the only care in my mind was the imminent orgasm approaching. As suddenly as he started, he stopped. He pulled his hand away. I begged him – please no, don’t stop, I need it. He reached around my back with both hands and quickly flicked my bra open; he yanked it in the middle of the cups up front to pull it off my body. As he took one nipple in his mouth he slowly leaned back, taking me with him. In this position my cunt was wide open and bared for all to see who walked by; and there were certainly people. The pain of his teeth on my nipple was so exquisite but I cried for release.

Go ahead then, he whispered. Use your own hand. Get yourself off for me, for these people. They’re all watching you.

My hand shot to my clit like lightning. While my fingers rubbed my clit furiously, and occasionally sank deep in me, my wrist was rubbing against his hard cock through his dress pants. As he kneaded my breasts, kissed and bit and sucked them, I orgasmed furiously on his lap, on the steps, in front of unknown strangers. I collapsed on his chest from exhaustion and he untucked my skirt and handed me my shirt to put on. The bra – he kept that in his hand, as a trophy as he led me to his apartment.