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| The Cab
Ride |
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| by
Barry Kingsley, Author and
Copyright Holder. Original story publised in 1974. |
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It had
been a slow night so I decided to knock off early. As I pulled out
of the busy downtown core, empty now of theatre-goers and club
kids, I spotted her in the distance. She was standing bathed in
the cool, eerie glow of the streetlight. She was wearing a long
raincoat and her exposed legs in their stilettos made her look
even more cold and forlorn.
I slowed the cab as I approached her to see if she would flag me
down. To this day I am not sure if she did raise her arm to signal
me, but I stopped all the same.
As is my custom when picking up a lone female fare late at night,
I didn't hold her gaze longer than necessary to establish our
business transaction, but her eyes bore into my heart from that
short look. There was some hunger lurking there.
All the same, when the left-hand back door opened and she slid
onto the seat directly behind me, I had not caught more than a
glimpse of her dark hair, and slim figure as she leaned into the
cab. I looked into the rear view mirror to wait for her
destination address. Something about her voice made me glad it
would be a longer than usual trip. She had a soft voice, tinged
with a nameless sadness that made my heart ache. I was intrigued
by this woman. The delicate scent of her perfume rose around me as
we pulled away into the night. I caught her dark, heavily lidded
almost sleepy eye in the mirror, flipped the meter on and started
to drive.
As we drove, I became aware of movement in the back seat as she
adjusted her skirt and coat around her. Every now and then, the
flash of pale skin caught the lamplight, and made me aware of a
gnawing need in my loins. With some difficulty I tried to keep my
concentration on the road ahead. I was glad there were so many
stop lights on this route out of the city. As we pulled to a stop,
I could see that the movements in the back seat were because she
was changing her clothes in the back seat of my cab. The tension
in my loins increased and I could feel the stirrings of my cock
against my pant leg as I thought of those slim legs easing out of
her stilettos.
I heard the slow release of a zipper and then was aware of her
sensuously moving her hips out of her skirt. She eased it over her
thighs, down onto the floor.
She sat in my cab clad only in her blouse, pantyhose and shoes,
her skirt in a crumple beside her. The next stop light gave me the
delicious sight of her rolling the top of her pantyhose down over
her hips, over her thighs and down her calves. I would
occasionally catch her eyes looking at me in the mirror. It was
obvious that we were both getting interested in this striptease.
And a tease it was. She held me rapturously waiting for the next
garment to be removed. Now a slender arm was released from its
silk sheath. Now her head was swallowed by the blouse and her hair
was pulled forward only to fall back heavily against her now-bare
shoulders. I could see in the lamplight the contrast of her creamy
shoulders against the dark interior.
Involuntarily, I reached between my legs and started to stroke my
penis, which arched at the touch. I could not touch this woman,
and perhaps this lead to greater anticipation. I could only catch
sight of her as we pulled to a stop at the streetlights along the
way. I could not feel the silky texture of her breast, which I
could see rounding over her bra as she bent down to retrieve her
shoes from the cab floor. I could not taste her. My head was not
buried between the creamy thighs I could see in the streetlights.
I could smell her arousal as it filled the cab. For it was obvious
to us both that this was a deliberate striptease and one we both
were enjoying.
I could hear the rustle of cloth, accompanied by her breath coming
now more rapidly, as she removed all her clothing and was left
only with her bra and panties. Out of the corner of my eye, I
thought I saw her finger herself. I could certainly smell the
powerful aroma of her body. It filled my nostrils and the interior
of the cab. Her low moans and shallow breathing confirmed that she
was rubbing herself gently, as she settled back into the deep
seats. We continued in this way for some time; my fingers inside
my trousers, her fingers I could only imagine in her pussy,
stroking her wet cunt, until we were quite outside the downtown
core and away from any streetlights.
When her eyes met mine in the mirror, they were glowing with a
fire and intensity I found hard to refuse. No word had been spoken
since she had given me her destination. No sound but our
increasing excitement had filled the car.
I heard her pull some clothes from a bag at her feet, and she
started to dress with the same languid movements. She had shed the
skin of her personality and would now emerge at her home as a
sensibly dressed woman once again.
Now she put on an oversized fleece sweatshirt that slid over her
rounded bosom to her waist. She pulled on a pair of leggings first
rolling them over one foot, then one calf, then onto the other.
She arched her back into the seat and with her hips angled
upwards, pulled the garment up over her hips to her waist. When
next I stole a look into the mirror, she had pulled her hair back
into a low ponytail and was sitting gazing absently out the
window.
I pulled up in front of a low apartment building and swerved along
side the front door.
As she leaned forward to give me the far, I flipped the meter over
so that it was back to zero.
"No", I said, "This one's on me."
She smiled slowly. Her smile was full of awareness of the impact
her transformation in my back seat had left on me. It was a smile
which said "thank you for letting me share that adventure with
you."
And she opened the door and was gone.
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