The Chauffeur

The night air is warm. As summer gives way to autumn a cool breeze rushes down the street, sending a chill up your arm. You press against him as your body shivers and is plagued with goose bumps. The evening has been perfect so far. Candle light intimate dinner. Soft mellow piano. A shared bottle of the finest champagne. You're not sure if it's the mixture of the champagne and oysters or if it was the entire evening of stolen sexually charged glances, but you're heady with arousal.

A short black Mercedes limousine pulls up. Looking him in the eye with perplexed excitement, he smiles back at you kissing you on the lips. Looking back at the car, the driver has already opened the back passenger door. Wearing the traditional black suit and black tie. You notice a younger man with short clean cut blond hair. You hear the driver speaking to him briefly about directions. But the driver's eyes hardly leave you. Looking you up and down, you blush. Flattered at this young man's admiration, it's a look you've become used to. You politely smile as you lean down and slide into the back seat.

The car ride gives no relief to your arousal. Ever bump encourages your body to shift, pressing your panties against your lips sending waves of want through your body. You look at him. He is staring back at you with a lustful hunger in his eyes. Facing toward the driver, you realize there is a window separating you. You notice it is tinted, but only slightly. In the rearview mirror you can see the drivers blue eyes. You wave your arms to test the drivers' perception. His eyes do not leave the road. As if understanding your motive, he leans over and begins to kiss your neck. The correct button has been pushed. You need him. You begin kissing him deeply as your hand finds his penis stretching the fabric of his pants to their limit. You unzip and as he breaks free from his confines you lick your lips. Wrapping your hand around the shaft, you can feel his heartbeat. You look back at the driver, who doesn't seem to notice the show, he's about to miss. You take pride in your oral abilities, and like for them to be enjoyed.

Leaning down you lick the head of his penis. The soft skin pulses against your tongue. You wrap your mouth around him and you can feel him shudder under your control. You press the tip of his dick against your cheek as you use your stroke his dick with your mouth. He gives you the tell-tale sign that he is about to lose control inside your mouth. Lifting your head as you swallow the last few drops, it's your turn to be enjoyed.

Almost reading your mind, he gets down on his knees in front of you. Placing his head between your legs, tasting you through your panties. You look toward the driver, his eyes starting right back into yours. Your immediate reaction is to stop the proceedings, but it is over shadowed by a very strong urge to be watched. You begin to trace your lips with your finger and with your other hand press his head deep into you. You gyrate your hips, gently grinding your panty covered clit against his tongue. The driver's gaze never falters.

You feel it coming, the release you've been craving. Squeezing your thighs around his head as your buck into his mouth more, you allow yourself to unleash into your already soaking panties. You struggle to keep your eyes open, transfixed on the driver. Showing him your ecstasy. As he tries to taste your sweet cum, you push his head away. "Leave it". He smiles back at you and moves to sit next to you. The driver's eyes back to their duty. Impressed by his ability to watch and drive at the same time, you think "he must be rewarded for his professionalism". The car pulls up to a beautiful old building; you realize is your destination. A hotel of luxury and class. A perfect place to spend a weekend away.

Exiting the car, he says he will tip the driver. You protest, and express your wanting to do so. He smiles back at you and says he will meet you at the front counter. You shuffle over to the tinted window that has separated you from your voyeur. As the window rolls down, soft muted trumpet shares its melodic magic. "What are you listening to?" you ask. "Miles Davis." He says politely with a smile. You thank him for the ride and wish him a good night. You extend your hand to shake his out of respect for his courtesy. His hand grasps your, soft and strong. You leave an item in his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. Standing on the curb, watching the car pull away, you smile. "I'll need to buy a new pair of panties".