Copyright 2001 Emma Kaufmann
"Look love," said the driver as I shivered in the back. "I ain't got all night. If you don't want this cab there's plenty that does."
He'd had the meter on for five minutes which had already clocked up six pounds and thirteen pence. Quite a price for sitting in a freezing cab waiting for a fuck that looked like it wasn't going to materialize. When I'd been upstairs in the sweltering heat of the Christmas party and Agnes had started staring at me I'd been confused. You don't expect your crush to reciprocate your feelings and I'd had the biggest thing about her, ever since I'd seen her ass undulating down the hall in a tight skirt on her first day at Drummonds Publishing. That had been six weeks ago, and since then we'd not spoken about anything outside of work. I thought I'd got the wrong end of the stick at first but after half an hour of loaded conversation she'd leaned toward me and said, "Let's get out of here."
I'd nodded dumbly and she'd whispered, "Go and hail a cab and I'll be down in a second."
"She'll be here soon," I said to the cab driver. A couple lurched out of the door, Nigel wearing a lopsided paper hat, Denise in a crown of green and red tinsel that dangled over one eye. They staggered up.
"Can we share the cab?" said Nigel.
"No, I'm waiting for Agnes."
"Ooh, wouldn't hold my breath, she seemed quite cozy with some bloke," said Denise and shrieked, "Stop grabbing my ass," before boxing Nigel and pulling him away.
I folded my arms tightly across my chest. The red digits on the meter said six pounds forty seven. It's Christmas Eve and I've been tossed over for some bloke, I thought, feeling indignant. Story of my life, I thought, when the door to the building opened again and Agnes came toward me. My joy was short lived however when I saw that the man was following her.
"You don't mind, do you, if we drop Mike off?"
"Sure," I said. He opened the door and cold air blew up my skirt. As he clambered in he stared at my bare knees and I felt tingly as I batted down my skirt. He gave me a crooked smile as he brushed past me.
"Don't think I've seen you before," I said as Agnes climbed in behind him and playfully slapped his backside. My stomach lurched as the sexual atmosphere inside the cab thickened.
"I didn't even know you worked at Drummonds," she said to Mike.
"Legal affairs," he said, as he sat next to me.
"How do you know each other?"
She said vaguely, "We were pretty close at Oxford."
Agnes squashed in between us, reached over and took my hand. "You're frozen," she said. I was about to say, like you care, when she took my hand and slid it down the front of her bra. I almost came in my pants.
"Hey, I'm cold too," Mike said, zoning in on the other breast, but she batted his hand away like a fly that was irritating her. I leaned over and kissed her neck, bit it gently while I moved my hand around so that I pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
She leaned back, let out a low moan and began to go limp. This time, when Mike shoved his hand up her dress she just lay back and opened her legs a little. I could see the driver's eyes in the mirror looking back at me. I leaned down and lifted the heavy breast until one nipple popped over the edge of the black lace cup. Flicking my tongue against the nipple I felt the motion of the cab, heard her whisper 'yes, yes,' as Mike moved his hand under her skirt.
As the cab driver shouted that we'd arrived I reluctantly sat up and, shivering with excitement leant my cheek against the cold glass. I'd almost forgotten that twenty minutes ago I'd wanted to be alone with Agnes. After tasting those big luscious tits I was so turned on I didn't care if Mike was along for the ride. Okay, I admit it, Mike was going to make the ride a lot more interesting.
But as soon as we got out and started fumbling about for money the spell was broken. And once we were inside Mike's apartment we'd gone back to being three strangers. The effects of the alcohol I'd consumed had faded and for a moment I started to wonder if I'd just imagined the scene in the car.
Mike poured us all large tequilas. "No salt or lemons I'm afraid, never mind eh? Down the hatch," he said, sitting down next to me on the sofa while Agnes stood in front of the fireplace and put her hands up to warm herself from the gas fire. She wore a tight fifties style black dress, that flared out at the waist, and pointed stilettos with daggers for heels. As she bent down to straighten the seams of her stockings I longed to drag my tongue along that seam to see where it took me.
She patted her hair, and turned to Mike. They talked about old friends of theirs, Sally and Bob and whatever happened to Jill? It was boring as hell, but I figured I had nothing better to do, and since neither of them seemed in any particular hurry to be rid of me I decided I would just stay put and see what transpired.
