I was a bit tipsy when he told me to undress. "In front of him?" I asked. Actually my question was formally incorrect, I was not in front of our chauffeur, he had his back turned to us as he drove the limousine.
"Yes," the man by my side replied. "Don't mind him, he's seen me fucking other girls before. He's discrete... and keeps the car on the road." he jested.
"So that was it," my mind raced, as I felt all the world depended on how fast could I deliver my decision to the man who was clearly undressing me with his eyes.
We had met in a bar, flirted, danced, had some drinks, and among all that was said I can't even remember how I was led to the key line "I never did it in a limo". The dice were cast, next thing I remember were the eyes of the chauffer through the rearview mirror, inspecting me, adjusting the mirror, like someone ready for a long expected show. Only the popcorn was missing.
Just put yourself in my position! What are the odds of the man chatting you up on a Friday night, in a bar, really owning a limousine? No wonder he insisted on that when we chatted about sex in different places. I told him that the idea of being driven through the town, fucking along the streets was a big turn on to me. I just had never found the right opportunity... or a car with enough room.
And then the limo line popped up. I fell for it. And there I was, feeling the fine leather, and looking at the mini-bar he opened as he expected for my answer.
A gin and tonic was handed to me. He looked me in the eyes, and breathed deeply, savoring his whiskey. I found him sexy. His way of using his hands had caught my attention from the beginning. They were skilled, classy. "Like those of a surgeon," I thought, even if I never met one. Watching his hands moving made me wish I was the glass he was holding, and my body was used in that skillful way, an object of his pleasure, on the way to his mouth.
Who was I kidding? I was not exactly the kind of girl who blushes before the hint of sex. The bar we had just left behind was the same where one week before I had given a blowjob to a stranger, with several people watching. Of course his hand on my thigh, the few drinks I had had, and the amazed eyes looking at me through the mirror were a turn on enough for me. Nothing would prevent me from making my fantasy come true.
I accepted the drink he handed me, looked him in his eyes, defiantly, as I took a sip. I looked down, caressed his hand, held it, and slid it upper through my thigh, until I felt his fingers touching my panties.
"Only if you help me." Was my assertive answer.
He smiled, and used his hands on each side of my ass, hiking up my mini-skirt, in order to reach my panties. I raised my body from the seat, and felt his hands pulling my panties down my legs. That smooth rubbing sent shivers down my spine. I felt free, a slight chill reached my pussy, and I lifted my legs as he kept on pulling the panties slowly, never stopping looking at them. The same way I never stopped looking at him while I calmly sipped my drink. It was like watching a beautiful ballet, just that my body was the main show.
My panties fell on the floor, and he looked again at me. I knew he wanted more. I looked to the car windows. From outside no one could know if I had panties or not, but by removing my top it would be hard to hide my nudity. I wasn't even wearing a bra.
"So?" He asked.
I didn't say a word. I put my glass down and lifted my arms above my head. With that gesture I was offering myself to be undressed, and with that same gesture I was saying "I'm helpless, yours to use". The bulge in his pants meant he got the message. He leaned to me and kissed me on my lips. At the same time I felt his hands on my stomach, caressing me, getting hold of my top. Finally, breaking our long wet kiss, he pulled my top up with a strong and firm gesture.
