Welcome to the Love and Limousines Chain Story. Each author will be telling their own little tale of what happens in the backseat of the limousine. Each author will be using a different letter of the alphabet for the driver's name. Only time will tell what the driver's names will be.
I hope you will enjoy the individual tales and let us know what you think of the hot stories.
SexSweetheart
****************
It was a typical day at Love Limo's; the chauffeurs were in the break room waiting for their assignments. They sat around chatting, reading, playing cards {such as, hearts, poker, solitaire}, and enjoying a cup of coffee, tea, soda or whatever. There were always plenty of things to munch on as well.
The more experienced drivers had a habit of exchanging their stories about some of the strange things that had happened in the back seats of their limos. The stories were the usual, told over and over again by drivers.
It was Ernest's turn to tell his story about the adventure in the backseat. The old guy scooted his chair up to the table with an annoying screech. Most of the other drivers in the room settled in for what they thought would be some boring little story. What else could they expect from this grey bearded, chubby, no not chubby, big, fat man who wheezed when he talked?
The room was silent, except for Ernest's breathing. He took his bottle of cherry flavored diet cola, turned the twist cap, took a long drink and then burped. "Oh, oh, excuse me," he said with a smile. He then ran his hand over his sweaty brow, pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, wiped his hand off and then carefully folded the handkerchief and put it back into his pocket. Already two or three of the other drivers had wandered off and there was a bit of a buzz in the room as a few comments passed through the group, "Is this guy going to live long enough to tell his story?" "Hell, am I going to live long enough for him to tell it?"
Ernest made an odd face, leaned to one side and then the other, scooted his chair again and then leaned to the right. "If he farts I'm gone folks," someone moaned. Just then Ernest cleared his throat with a disgusting hack, grabbed the table edge and began his story:
*
Hot. You wanted hot, I've got hot. Some of you know me, I've been here a while and I'm neither blind, nor stupid. I know how it goes. You guys get the new Mercedes or the hot stretch Lincoln and I get the '95 Towne Car complete with squeaking brakes, a cassette stereo and a broken moon roof.
Yeah, you can go count your fancy clients and their big tips, I get people, all kinds of people... real people, interesting people. And yeah, on this trip I got all this along with a broken air conditioning system.
Fortunately I got to the airport early and parked the car in the shade of the parking garage. The limo area was in a well ventilated part of the garage so when I climbed out of the car it felt like a cool breeze rolled over me. I slipped on my jacket, hoping it would hide the sweat stains under my arms and across my chest, and walked into the terminal.
My sweat had caused the writing on my sign to run, so I had to borrow a piece of cardboard from one of the rental counters and rewrite the passenger's name: Kobolowicz. It took three pieces of cardboard to get the name right. Anyway, I was able to wait in the frigid terminal air for about an hour, when finally I saw that the flight had arrived and I stood up with the rest of the drivers holding signs.
I had waited there while most of the other drivers hooked up with their clients and wandered off when an older gentleman approached with two women and a skycap, pulling a badly overloaded luggage cart. One of the women appeared to be the man's wife, an attractive lady perhaps in her early fifties. Her hair was nicely colored, with only perhaps a faint hint of gray at the scalp. Though not thin, she had a nice figure, certainly with some interesting curves.
"Just one driver, but we ordered two cars," the woman said in an intriguing, low toned voice. "We were supposed to have two cars," her husky voice seeming to tell me,
"Take my breasts and squeeze them."
"I... I don't know Ma'am," I replied, wondering which twit back there in the break room was about to cost me this fare.
Looking at her husband she said, "I'll take care of this," and grabbing her cell phone out of her purse, she walked off, her hips swaying enticingly.
I looked back to the gentleman who said apologetically, "Please excuse my wife, she gets worked up at times. What do you think?" he asked, looking at the trunk and then back to his pile of luggage, "Can we fit the luggage in your trunk okay?"
Looking over the pile of luggage I said pensively, "Well, if all three of you sit in the backseat and I put some of the luggage on the front seat beside me we should do okay." I wasn't about to split this tip with anyone else, I'd make the luggage fit.
Nodding, he then looked at the other woman and said, "Mindy, you don't mind riding with my wife and me, do you?"
"Oh, no sir," she replied, "it will be fine."
I could tell the young lady was cold, her nipples created two large creases in her blouse, emphasizing her otherwise unimpressive breasts. Looking back up at her face I noticed her beautiful blue eyes, which seemed to shine exuberantly from her youthful face. Her nose was a little large and though she lacked the classic beauty of the gentleman's wife, she seemed to glow with excitement at everything around her.
"Harold, are you sure you made it clear to Christine that we needed two cars? I mean we hired Mindy as a personal assistant for your mother, she's not a maid. She should ride in her own car. She is a professional, though she seems a bit young to be a personal assistant if you ask me," she said pertly.
"Yes Kath, two cars, one for us and one for Mindy. She came highly recommended and remember she's also going to be mom's nurse. There weren't many people interested in doing both for us."
"Well, I tell you one thing, poor Christine is losing it, I mean she has messed up every trip we have taken this year," she said, sounding very exasperated.
"I know, I know, but for as long as she has worked with Dad and me, I just can't get rid of her. The office would just not be the same without her," he replied, sounding a bit sad.
"Yes, yes I understand, you are such a pushover. But what do we do now?" the wife said, tossing her chin up, ready to persevere.
"Kath, everything is fine. The driver says that the luggage will fit in the trunk and front seat of the car. Mindy can ride with us in the back, she doesn't mind."
"She'll ride with us?" the woman asked incredulously.
"She's not very big, and there's plenty of room in the back seat, she can sit between us. This is not a problem, we'll be fine," he said, almost smiling as his wife nodded. He looked to me and repeated, "We'll be fine." He then smiled, though I'm not sure whether it was because he had finally quieted his wife down or because he'd seated next to the attractive young assistant.
I grabbed one of the suitcases about to fall off the skycap's cart and said as cheerfully as I could, "Okay, everybody, please follow me."
It was a short walk out to the car and it only took about ten minutes or so to get the luggage worked into the trunk, with three pieces wedged into the front seat beside me. Not wanting to lose the fare, I kept quiet about the air conditioning until I got away from the airport.
After a few miles, the wife said, "It's very hot in here, can you turn up the air conditioning."
"Well ah... Ma'am the air doesn't seem to be working, you might want to roll down the windows," I said, acting surprised.
"No air conditioning? How do you expect...," her voice wavered as if she was near tears.
"Kath, it's just a short drive home," the man interrupted, "we'll open the windows, take off our jackets and continue our ride home."
"Our jackets, are we to simply undress here?" his wife whined dejectedly.
"I'll have the driver put the screen up so he can't see us, okay?" he said, trying to keep his wife as comfortable as possible.
"At least do that Harold," she replied, removing her jacket and tossing down to her feet.
"Driver? Could you..." I had already hit the switch to close the screen between us. I did notice that as soon as the screen closed, the back windows opened. With a slight adjustment of the side mirror, I found that I had a perfect view of the man's wife. She had removed her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse so I could see all the way down to her white laced bra. Her face and chest were covered with droplets of sweat and I watched as a droplet ran down from under her chin to the valley between her breasts. Her face had flushed some and she was slowly fanning herself with some magazine.
For much of the drive I couldn't hear much from the back seat with the wind blowing through the open windows, so I simply continued driving while watching the older woman in my side view mirror. As it got hotter, she seemed to be slipping out of more and more of her clothes. By then she had removed her blouse and both her bra straps had slipped off her shoulders. With each bounce of the car, those fine and very sweaty breasts were flopping up and down and up and down.
As we were getting closer to our destination I began to hear bits and pieces of the conversation in the back seat as the voices got louder. I slowed down the car down a bit so I could hear them better.
"Why don't you just go ahead and take off her bra, you're staring so hard," I heard the wife say. She continued, "I can't believe you just did that Harold." I twisted in my seat trying to see what happened. What the hell did he do?
"Well you told me to," he replied loudly. Damned if he didn't remove Mindy's bra, just as his wife had taunted him to do. Wishing there was some way to see through the screen behind me, I glanced over at the other side mirror but I couldn't see anything. All I could do was watch the look of shock on the older woman's face slowly loosen up, as if she were somehow intrigued, maybe turned on watching her husband remove Mindy's bra.
"And if I told you to just grab her breasts...," she stopped with a gasp. "And then pinch her nipples?" This time she seemed less surprised. "Pinch them harder, yeah, like that."
Glancing in the mirror, I could see the lady had slipped her bra beneath her breasts and was sliding her palms over her nipples as she gave instructions to her husband. "Now Harold, are you going to suck that poor girl's nipples, why she's younger than your daughter," she said with a high pitched voice, mockingly scolding him. Yeah, she wanted him to do more.
"I'm twenty," I heard the young woman say with a sigh.
"She's twenty Harold, now take off her panties," she said, reaching her hand down the front of her own body.
