She went to the airport to surprise him, and share his ride home. He had been gone for a week on business, their longest separation. It was plenty of time for her fertile, sexual imagination to work on her. During the nights she'd become reacquainted with all her toys, the ones she used a lot, and the ones she'd forgotten.
He had taken a cab to the airport after checking his car into the garage. But, that wasn't what she told her girlfriend. When she asked her girlfriend to drop her off at the airport, she'd said his car was at the airport, and they'd ride home in it. But, what she really wanted was to share a cab ride back.
The cabstand outside the baggage collections point was quite typical. There was a line of cabs from different companies. She had come early so she could pick the one she wanted. Five or six cars down, she saw it.
The cabstand manager had seen her walk down the line of cabs, and took notice of her again when she approached him. She was quite petite, yet very slender, with a long, graceful neck, accentuated by the way she wore her hair. Her body was also slender save for her really ripe bosom, and round, womanly bottom.
She was wearing a dress that was made out of a silken material, with diagonal black and pink stripes. It went from her shoulders to just below her knees. The top was finished in a black, faux-fur edge, and hung on her beautifully from a neckline that went almost off her shoulders to plunge in front and back. The dress had seven large black buttons closing the front, and a wide, black belt that gathered tightly at her waist.
"I'd like to hire that cab, there (she pointed), number 5 down."
"Lady, you get the next one in line. All right? Is that all right?"
"Well, you see, I really want that one there." She held out a twenty-dollar bill.
He looked at the cab, dirty windows, older model, some bang-ups and dents, the driver a large man slouching as though asleep, indifferent. This was a one-man show, and not a very good one. He looked at her again.
"Lady, are you sure?" He didn't believe her.
Her striking blue eyes were laughing at him and his discomfort. "Well you see (she said it quietly like she was telling a joke), I think he's from the same neighborhood that I am."
The cabstand manager didn't believe her, but by then he didn't care. He gave her the cab she wanted because he decided he really liked her. Men really liked her. It was a power she had.
When he pulled up, the cab driver hustled out to open the back door for her.
"Have you got any luggage, lady?"
"No, but we're picking up someone else. I want you to circle the airport and come back here to arrivals. His plane is coming in about 20 minutes."
As he pulled away, he adjusted the mirror slightly in order to be able to check her out as he drove. She's a little blonde, dressed very nice, and classy looking. Her hair is brushed up and away from her neck and ears, and rolled into a soft knot on top of her head, making her taller. Little wisps had escaped to soften the back of her neck and ears, and forehead. She was looking at him, checking him out too.
He's a very tall black man. His hair is done in totally unflattering, tiny pigtails, spaced irregularly over his entire scalp. His nose has been broken at least 3 times. One such attack has left him with a squint that makes one eye look smaller than the other. His unapologetic grin revealed an excess of gold. He's well over 6 feet tall.
Before he pulled away, she handed him $100, and a slip of paper.
"Here's what I want. My husband's been gone for a week and a half, and we are going to have a lot of very personal things to discuss. We often talk about very personal things while we're out driving, but since he's been gone, we'll probably have more to talk about than usual. I want you to take your time getting us to this address. Do a nice job driving us around and don't let anyone interrupt us."
"Little lady, it'll just be us. Do you and your husband do this kind of thing very often? Or, is this a special occasion?"
"First time," she said, "something in the way of one of his fantasies."
She was feeling hot rushes, and she wanted to stretch, but she held it. She patted her skirt below her belt, and rubbed her thighs together feeling the egg she'd inserted into her pussy, a wireless vibrator with about a 6-inch, flexible wire antennae that hung between her legs. She took the remote control out of her purse and began to experiment. When she turned it on very low, it still buzzed her so good she froze and caught her breath. She looked up but couldn't tell if he saw her. (He did).
Once she got it going, she was able to turn it up and begin to learn her range. By the time they got back to the terminal, she was enjoying constant sensation, but she was still able to walk and to converse.
"Wait here," she said.
He hustled to get around and open her door. Helping her out of the car and noticing the dazed look in her eyes he got her pointed in the right direction. She was beginning to like him.
As she walked down the wide hallway to his gate, she realized that the juice from her moistening pussy was beginning to creep down the little flexible antennae that dangled between her thighs. She almost swooned.
---
I was really surprised she came to meet me, and then I wasn't. She was that kind of girl. Then she gave me another surprise. Her kiss was a long one, wet and lingering, and she held me really close.
"Can you feel it," she asked?
"What? Feel what?"
She pulled me down the hall and into a narrow side corridor, and pulled me in for another close kiss. This time, she pulled my hand between us so I could feel between her legs the subtle vibration emanating from her Mons Veneris. She grinned at my expression. I looked down the corridor to see if it presented any possibilities. But she took my hand and quickly moved me back into the hallway, and out to the cabstand.
Outside, she maneuvered me over to a cab that she already had waiting. This had to be one-man cab company. No cab company could put together a fleet of cars that looked just like this. This was an old, beat-up sled of a Chevy that probably had a V-8 that could go 150 miles an hour.
We slid into the back seat, a big, wide, lounge of a seat. The bucket seats in front were divided by a wide console that was flat on top, and rode just above the level of our seat. The driver was leering at us to see whom she was bringing back. He was like his car, with a beat-up face and a body that looked like it could go like hell.