Chauffeur Adventures

My name is Andrew, and I am a chauffeur to some of the biggest names in Hollywood. Tonight I was stood beside my limo outside a large Hollywood theatre, waiting for my passenger to leave the music awards.

After a couple of minutes, I watched the tall blonde emerge from the theatre, wearing a figure-hugging white dress with black stripes.

"Hello, Miss Swift," I said as I opened the door for her to climb in.

"Hello, Andrew," she replied as she ducked into the car. It was rare for a celebrity to address me by name, but Taylor Swift was one of my friendliest passengers. "God, these awards are stressful. How far away is my hotel?"

"About twenty minutes, Miss Swift," I replied as I started the engine and pulled away.

"Could you put up the partition, please?" she asked. This seemed like a strange request, as I'd driven for Taylor Swift a few times now, but she'd never asked this before. Regardless, I did as she wished and rolled up the partition.

For some reason or another, when my limousine had been built, the partition window had been put in the wrong way, meaning that it was only opaque for anybody looking from the back. From the driver's compartment, it was just a transparent window.

I glanced in my rear view mirror as I pulled up to a set of traffic lights, and I realised that the blonde starlet had pulled the hem of her dress up to her hips, giving me a direct view of her white lacy underwear. I tried to stay professional and keep my eyes on the road, but I couldn't resist another quick glance.

I watched in amazement as she slipped her thumbs in either side of the thong and pulled it down her long legs before throwing it on the floor beside her. Without missing a beat, she slid her hand down her body to her now-naked crotch and bit her lip as she began to rub her sex.

I tried to ignore the sight as I felt an erection coming on, but it was far too tempting to look. I watched her slip a finger, and then another, inside of herself while she writhed around on the backseat. I could see her fingers were moist as she pressed her head against the headrest, clearly in another world.

She stopped for a moment, and I thought the show was over until she reached into her bag and pulled out a hairbrush. It was fortunate we were stuck in traffic, as I would have probably crashed as she raised the handle of the hairbrush to her bright red lips and began to suck on it. She lowered it down to her dripping sex and slid it inside of herself, gasping quietly as she did.

Within seconds, she was pumping it in and out of herself, squirming on the seat with each thrust of the soaked handle. She continued like this for a few minutes, using her other hand to gently rub her clitoris as she closed her eyes and continued fucking herself, harder and harder, until she was finally close to her climax.

As she approached her orgasm, she began to fuck herself more furiously, throwing her head back and biting her lip until she finally came, her body buckling under the force as a gentle stream of fluid flowed onto the carpet in front of her.

She sat up and looked around, her cheeks red with embarrassment at the fact she'd just squirted in a limousine. She settled back into her seat when she was sure, wrongly, that nobody had seen the performance.

"We're here, Miss Swift," I said as I pulled up outside her hotel. I watched her jump in the rear view mirror as though she'd forgotten there was somebody else in the car. Hurriedly, she put the hairbrush in her bag as I opened the door for her to step out.

"Thank you," she smiled, before giving me a grateful kiss on the cheek.

No, thank YOU, Miss Swift, I thought, as I noticed the country singer's thong still on the floor of my car.