Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining

With significant input by "Irish Lass".

(And edited by our friend, "

larryinseattle

")

*****

Parked against the curb, I sat and wondered how in the hell I'd gotten here. Four years of college, two years of post-graduate work in business administration, and then two more years of pounding the streets trying to get a job and all I had to show for it was a shit load of debts and a job driving a cab.

I, distractedly, listened to the hustle and bustle of downtown Chicago as it slid past me; horns honking, people yelling, and the low continuous hum of people talking on their cell phones, all of which seemed to rub against every nerve in my body. Of course, it didn't help that it had been overcast and raining for the last three days and that I'd only been able to pick-up two fares for the whole day. "Barely enough to pay for the fuckin' gas," I grumbled to myself.

Then the back door opened and I felt the cab shift as someone slid in. "Get me out of here!" a smooth, silky voice with a French accent said.

I glanced in the mirror and saw a pair of hazel eyes staring back at me. "Where to, lady?"

"How about your place?" she said.

Surprised and more than a bit upset, I replied, "Listen, lady, if this is some kinda joke I'm not in the mood."

"Just get me out of here," she replied again as she glanced out the side window.

"You in some kinda trouble 'cuz I don't need it."

"No. Nothing like that. I just want to get away from ..." she faltered as she saw a tall, well-muscled man exit the building she'd just come out of, "him."

"Who is he?" I asked as the man approached the door.

"My ex-boyfriend and, as of today, ex-manager."

I didn't like the looks of the guy so I was more than happy to comply with her request. "Hold on," I said over my shoulder and then I waited until just as the guy was reaching for the door handle, thinking he'd won. That's when I hit the gas. The tires slipped a little, spraying the guy with muddy water as we left him standing in the rain yelling and screaming at us.

"Thank you," she sighed, as she settled back in her seat.

"No problem. He looked like kind of a creep anyway."

She sat silently before replying, "I wish I'd noticed that when I first met him."

We'd reached the end of the block and were stopped at a stop light when I turned to look at her. Her hair was jet-black and glistened from the rain. Her eyes sparkled as she saw me looking at her and the corners of her mouth turned up in a little smile. Her coat was open and she was wearing a ruby-red, above-the-knee skirt, with a matching top which left her stomach exposed. A red coil necklace hung around her throat and it looked like she might be wearing a set of matching earrings. The one thing I didn't see was a ring on her left ring finger.

Her looks and voice tugged at a some dim memory until I remembered where I'd seen this woman before. "Aren't you Anissa K ..." but I never finished because I saw her smile disappear.

"I USED to be! That's one of the things my asshole ex-manager and I were fighting about."

"Ahhh," I said as the car behind me honked and I spun around to see that the light had turned green. With nowhere else to go I headed toward Lake Drive figuring that she was probably staying at one of the better hotels located along 'the strip'.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"Hey. No big deal. I'm the one who started it. I'm just not used to having a celebrity in my cab."

"I'm no celebrity! I laid on my back and got fucked like a whore. The difference is I got paid better because someone was filming it."

"Enough of that," I said gruffly, before changing to a more soothing voice. "My father taught me that a woman, no matter what she has to do for a living, is a 'lady' and should ALWAYS be treated like one so enough of that crap about being a whore."

"Wow! You mean I actually found a gentleman?" she teased.

"At your service, ma'am" I replied in my best Southern drawl. "Ya' see, ma'am, chivalry ain't dead, it's just a bit tarnished."

Her laughter filled the cab. "Okay, Terrance, where would you suggest I go if I want to get away from ... ummmm ... everything for awhile?"

"Well, the first thing I'd suggest is that you call me T. Terrance is my father and I was named after him, that's why the name is on my license, but all my friends call me T."

"So, I'm your friend?"

I flipped off the meter and flipped the switch so the "Out of Service" sign on the roof lit up before answering her. "I guess so since the only people I don't charge for a ride are my friends."

Once again she laughed, this time filled with relief.

"In that case, T, take me somewhere where I can relax, unwind, and hopefully no one will recognize me."

"Hmm .. the first two are easy but the last one ... I don't know. You're pretty popular and it's hard to hide a woman as good looking as you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she giggled.

"Are you staying anywhere? I can drop you off."

"Trying to get rid of me so soon?" she sighed.

"NO!"

"I am, or was, staying at the hotel where you picked me up so I don't think that would work out too well," she said before asking, "Where do you go when you get off work?"

"With the way things have been lately I usually just head home."

"Well, then ...?"

When I looked in the mirror I couldn't tell if she was joking so I replied, "My ... ummm ... my place is pretty small and definitely not in any condition for visitors."

"Well then, what do you suggest?"

I quickly ran through the friends I could safety take her to and realized that wasn't going to work; too many questions, too many comments, and in some cases too damn sleazy to trust. Then I thought about some of the less elegant hotels in the area and realized that just didn't feel right either. It was then that an idea popped into my head. One that I'd NEVER have considered if it wasn't for who she was and the situation she was in.

"Are you up for a drive?"

"Where to?" she asked, this time with a bit of concern in her voice, which I didn't blame her for since we'd just met.

"My parent's place."

"Your parents? Isn't it a little too soon for that?"

I laughed. "Nothing like that. They have a place about an hour and a half north of here in Lake Geneva. It's kind of a resort town but since it's the off season there aren't many people around to disturb you."

"What about your parents?"

"They're snowbirds."

"Snow - what?"

"Snowbirds. They live up here in the summer but have a place down in New Mexico where they go during the winter."

"So the place is empty?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

She didn't answer for several minutes as I headed for the freeway. "I guess that should be fine. The only problem is I don't have anything except what I'm wearing and I ... ummmm ... like something to snuggle with when I go to sleep."

"Ahhh," I replied as I tried to figure out what to do next. "I hope you don't think I'm getting too personal but if I remember from your ... previous work ... you're what? 36-24-35?"

"Very good," she teased, "but actually it's 37D."

"Oh. My mistake. Anyway, I think my sister probably has some of her stuff still laying around at the house. We can see if any of that fits."

"And what about the other problem?"

I didn't answer since I realized I was 'walking on thin ice' as the saying goes. I could tell her I'd volunteer and probably have her tell me to pull over so she could get out or I could tell her that I thought my sister still had some of her old stuffed animals to cuddle with and run the same chance so, in the end, I decide to follow my instincts. "I know this may sound stupid but I think there might be some stuffed animals you can cuddle with."

"Hopefully one of them is a big, stuffed teddy bear," she said as her laughter once again filled the cab.

With that decided, I picked up the microphone and called my dispatcher and told him I was done for the night and wouldn't be available for the next several days.

"Whatcha do, hit the jackpot or somethin'?" the dispatcher asked.

"Something like that," I replied as I tuned off the dispatch radio and turned on a local music station.

"You might wanna stretch out and relax. Like I said, it's about an hour and a half drive."

"T?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you curious?"

"About what?"

"About what I'm doing in your cab? What ... or who I'm running away from?"

"Yeah. I'm curious. But I figured you'd tell me if you wanted to. If not, then I'm just helping out a friend."

"I keep forgetting we're friends," she sighed. "I don't have many of those. And the one person I thought I could count on just proved how wrong I was."

I didn't say a word figuring the best thing to do was watch the road and wait for her to continue.

"Phillip ... the man who came after me is ... WAS my manager. For a little while he was also my boyfriend and ... but that didn't work out. Anyway, I've been telling him for months that I was thinking of getting out of 'the business'. It sounds silly now but in the beginning it was exciting. You know, a new person, a new story. But after awhile it all just became the same thing over and over again. In the end, I just burned out."

"I can understand that."

"So tonight I went to see him and tell him I was through. That's when he went crazy. He started screaming and yelling; talking about the money that I could still make and the responsibility I had to my fans ... that kind of thing. I ran to the bathroom to get away from him and that's when I found the real reason he was so upset. There were three lines of coke on the counter. That's why we broke up. Now, please, don't get the idea that I'm innocent of such things. I've done stuff a few times but he got hooked and I mean REALLY hooked. When we broke up he was spending over $1000 a day."

"Wow," I sighed. "I know that stuff is easy to get hooked on but a thousand bucks a day? Hell, I'd have to starve and start robbing banks to afford that."

"Exactly ... and I was the bank."

"So he ...?"

"Yes," she said in almost a whisper before continuing. "Almost every penny that he had control of is gone. A lifetime of ... ummm ... 'acting'. Gone up his nose."

The cab fell silent after that as I turned on to the freeway. The highway flew by to be replaced by the darkness of the state and county roads taking us further and further from her problem. After about an hour, the combination of a long day, the crumby weather, the soothing music, and the heater from the cab had me feeling drowsy. I began to think about pulling over and taking a nap for awhile but when I glanced in the rear view mirror to ask if that was okay with her. What I saw took me by surprise and I instinctively turned to look and make sure I wasn't seeing things. "What the fuck?" I mumbled.

My passenger was stretched out on the rear seat; one hand inside her blouse caressing her tit while the other was under her skirt.

Unfortunately, when I turned around I'd also pulled the steering wheel and the tires soon hit the gravel siding. She heard it too and opened her eyes. For the briefest of seconds, time seemed to stand still as we stared at each other.

Her eyes were dilated and I could see how they sparkled even in the limited light from the dashboard. Her cheeks were reddened and there was a delicate sheen of moisture on her upper lip. Her lips were pursed with the tip of her tongue sticking out between them and her nostrils were flared. And to top it off, I could smell the heady aroma of her perfume mixed with the delicate scent of her arousal floating through the divider window between her and me.

Then the moment was gone. I turned my head toward the road and got us back on the highway, all thoughts of a nap evaporating as the adrenaline surged through me. "I ... I ...," I stuttered.

"Pull over," she said softly.

"What? We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Pull over ... please."

I pulled to the side of the road and we sat there, neither of us saying a word, until she finally whispered, "I'm sorry."

"What for? I'm the one that ..."

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said, stopping the conversation.

"I guess so."

"Can I come up in front and sit with you? I know that cabbies don't usually allow that but it feels funny talking through this glass and screen."

"Yeah, sure," I replied as I got out and came around the cab.

"There's no need for that," she said as I opened the door and she slid out, her body lightly brushing against mine. "After all, I'm sure you don't open the doors for your friends."

I laughed as I replied. "If any of my friends looked as good as you, I'd open every door they ever came to."

"There you go with the flattery again. Are you sure you're not from the south?"

"Actually, I was born in Texas," I answered as I closed her door and stepped backwards to open the front passenger's door.

"I can tell. You have a bit of the Southern Gentleman in you."

In the mean time I struggled to open the door.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she looked over my shoulder.

"It won't open," I grunted.

"Did you unlock it?" she asked, coyly.

The answer hit me like a lightning bolt. "Duhhhhh."

She laughed, long and hard as I scrambled back around the cab and then stretched across the seat to unlock her door.

She quickly opened it and slid in. "Now," she giggled, "Isn't this better?"

"Smooth move, ex-lax," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said as I got in and then pulled the cab back on the road.

Neither of us said a word as we sped down the road but the scent of her perfume and the vision of what I'd seen earlier was definitely having an effect as I felt my cock hardening.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered, realizing almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth how stressed they sounded.

"Ahhhh," she nodded. "Then how about if I ask, are WE okay?"

"We?"

"Yeah, you know; you, me, are we still friends after ...?"

"Yeah," I said softly, realizing she was bringing up 'the elephant' between us. "I really need to apologize. I was getting tired and just wanted to ask if it was okay to pull over and ..."

"And ...," she hesitated before continuing nonchalantly, "you saw me playing with myself."

"Yeah," I answered, feeling my cheeks turning red again.

"It's nothing to be upset or embarrassed about. It's something I do when I'm really stressed, that's all. Usually, it's in a bedroom or someplace private but after what happened with Phillip and the way I felt so safe sitting in the back, it just kind of happened so, if anyone should be sorry it's me."

"Tell ya what. We'll call it even. How about that?"

"That sounds good to me," she sighed, the cab once again falling silent except for the country-western music coming from the radio.

"Will it be much longer? I'm getting very tired," she asked after about 5 minutes, her French accent becoming more evident.

"About another half hour."

"Mmmmm, wake me when we get there," she muttered as she bundled up the jacket I'd had on the passenger's seat into a pillow and almost instantly drifted off to sleep. And so the rest of the trip went. Several times I heard her moan or whisper, 'No", but figured it was best to just let her sleep.

We arrived at my parent's house just after midnight and as I'd expected, it was totally dark. Exiting the cab quietly, I opened the front door and turned off the alarm before returning. She looked almost angelic as she slept but it was then that I realized I'd found out what I couldn't call her but not what I could.

"I'll have to take care of that in the morning,"

I thought to myself as I carefully opened the door.

At 5-foot, 4-inches, she barely weighed enough to make me take a deep breath before gently lifting her in my arms and carrying her inside.

"Now what?"

I thought. My parent's and sister's bedrooms were upstairs while mine was a small room on the first floor, near the back of the house. It had become somewhat of a family joke because the previous owner's chauffeur had lived there.

"Up we go," I muttered.

"You don't have to carry me," she said softly.

Surprised that she was awake, I almost stumbled on the first step of the stairs. "I'm ...," I stuttered. "Here I go apologizing again. I thought you were asleep and after everything you'd gone through today ... well, I just thought it was probably better not to wake you up."

"I was right. You are a gentleman," she said, as she shifted in my arms and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I lowered her to the ground and turned away so she wouldn't see how I was blushing or the lump that was forming in the front of my pants again. "So?" I asked as I swept my hand around the foyer. "Pretty fancy, huh?"

"It's very nice. Your family must be 'well off' I think is the politically correct phrase."

"Nah," I laughed. "We're not that fancy. We just say we're rich."

"Oh," she replied not quite sure what else to say.

"We weren't always this way. My dad was an electrical engineer and my mom was a teacher's assistant. Then my dad got hurt at work. Nothing major but he ended up seeing a couple of eye specialists to get it taken care of. They asked him for some help with an idea they had. Six long years later, the machine was revealed and it's now used by almost every surgical eye center in the country."

"Impressive."

"Yeah. He just says he was lucky but now he and my mom get to live their dream. They live here during the summer, in New Mexico during the winter, and spend the rest of their time in a RV traveling across the country. But enough of that. Let me show you where you can stay."

"Actually, I'm kind of hungry. Do you think there might be anything here to eat?"

"Hmmmm. I'm not sure but mom usually leaves some canned goods around in case of emergencies." And sure enough, when I checked the cabinets there was some tea, some canned soup, a few spices and, pushed to the back of the cabinet, some bread that was stale enough to break a tooth on. "Not much," I shrugged.

Her face lit up like a young girl's as she saw what was there. "Since you've been so nice how about if I make dinner?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied not really sure what she was going to make.

"Out you go then," she said in a jokingly, commanding voice. "The kitchen is officially off-limits until I'm done."

"Okay. I'll be upstairs checking to see what my sister may have left that you can wear. It's the second door on the right when you get to the top of the stairs."

"Oh ... so there's someplace I can go in the middle of the stairs?" she asked with an impish grin on her face.

"What have I gotten myself into?" I groaned, as I turned to leave. "Oh, before I forget. Since you don't wanna be called, you know, thaaaaat name, what should I call you?"

She stood and silently considered her options before replying. "Some of the people I used to work with called me Nessa but my family and friends call me Anne so I guess you should call me Anne too."

"Okay then," I said as I turned to leave. "If you need anything just call. I won't be too far away."

"What? Don't trust me?"

"Nah. Nothing like that. I'm just curious to see what miracle you're gonna pull off for dinner considering what we have here."

"You'll see. Now, out you go," she finished with a wave of her hand.

Taking the not-so-subtle hint, I left the kitchen and headed for my sister's room where I began to go through her drawers looking for something that Anne could change into. Unfortunately, the only things I found were from my sister's 'ripped-fashion' era. There were rips in the knees, the upper legs, the butt and in one pair, which instantly made me wonder if she'd ever worn them around my parents, a perfectly placed rip between the legs. In the end, Ann saved me from having to make a choice.