I suppose I’ve always had a wild streak. I thought I had outgrown it my mid-twenties, but I guess not. I settled down, got a job, got a husband. In fact, I had become quite un-wild and wild thoughts had stopped entering my mind altogether. As a co-ed I had plenty of men, if not a great variety, and even one woman. She was a lesbian and a friend and had pointed up, quite reasonably, how could I know I didn’t like it if I never tried it? But it was weird, and I was way too into dick by then. So finally I fell in love. My husband is a good man, but more reliable than exciting. I have always gotten what I asked for in bed, but we’ve fallen into the matrimonial routine; comfortable, but predictable. Recently, though, my wild side came back with a vengeance, much to my delight.
I suppose it started in the spring. We live in the suburbs now, and trips to parties in the city require a cab. We don’t go to many and they are usually dinner-things, but a few drinks and the hassle of parking . . . well you get the picture. So we got this cab driver we both liked and he gave me his card. He was courteous, professional, and earned his tip, so I kept the card. His name is Derek. Now the next party we went to was a little wilder than the norm. My husband got a great account for his firm and there was a celebration at a partner’s house in the city. The booze flowed freely and many drinks were pushed at my husband. I avoided the shots for most of the night, but finally got pretty buzzed myself. Bill was going to be a problem, though. We had carpooled in, but we were going to need a cab home. This is where Derek really enters the story.
Derek arrived after a long delay. The delay allowed my husband to consume two more shots and I knew they would probably be the end of him. A friend helped herd Bill out to the cab – Bill wasn’t very steady now – and Derek held the door for him. Derek is an easy 6’1”, 23 year old black man. He’s lean and well muscled and as I caught sight of him this time, I thought he was really a fine man. It had gotten warm now, and he wore a tight white tank top under a leather jacket. I checked him out thoroughly as he helped pile Bill into the car.
I’m a very thin early 30-something with short brown hair and A-breasts. I like to imagine that the compensation for my tiny titties is my thin figure and tight ass. This night I was wearing a short black dress, tight at the hips, loose at the tits. That’s the curse of small breasts, but at least I never need a bra. Eilene, the hostess and a good friend, spoke up quite unexpectedly beside me, “Pick up your jaw, Amy.” She was grinning from ear to ear. Glancing back at Derek, she added in a low voice, “But I see what you like. That boy is f-i-n-e.”
I thought to myself, yes he is! Derek got back in the car. It was the booze that made me so bold, but I leaned over into the passenger window to flirt with him. The talk was small, did he remember where we lived? My dress fits loose up top and drapes open at this angle, but he only looked me in the eye. A little cleavage, a little smile, but I don’t think I was trying to be anything but flirty. He has these soft brown eyes though, and I was finding him more and more attractive.
I got in the back with Bill and we left on the long drive home. At first Bill was alert and pawed me. Feeling sexy, I was willing to go along with it as far as modesty allowed. We kissed and Bill let his hand drift up my thigh even to the hem of my dress. Sometimes he would reach up to my tit, but I had to put his hand back down; not here, not yet. Still, I was getting turned on. So I let Bill kiss my neck and glanced up at the mirror. Bill was not watching us. Part of me said good, but part said why not? How can I get his attention? I guess my wild side was waking up. I edged Bill’s hand up my thigh. Encouraged, he stroked and stroked and eventually reached my panties. For this dress, only the thinnest of g-strings would do and these were thin enough to see through on a damp day. The feel of Bill’s fingers on my labia decided me – I needed a fuck or a finger when we got home. Glancing up again, this time I did catch Derek looking, or maybe he was just using his rearview mirror? But maybe the angle had been changed? He looked quickly away.
Bill’s finger slipped around the hem of my panties, catching me by surprise. I pulled his hand up. I wasn’t going to let him finger me in the car. I didn’t pull my skirt down, though. The thought that Derek could get a glimpse up my skirt was turning me on. Bill was fading though. By the time we got home he was all but asleep and I was resigned to just masturbating and catching up with Bill tomorrow.
We stopped in the driveway and Derek stepped up to help me get pull Bill out. We each took an arm and pulled him to his feet between us. I wasn’t holding my side up well, so Derek reached around to help. His strong hand on my back sent a warm shiver down my spine. He was obviously strong enough that I could easily have let him carry Bill alone, but the contact was exciting. We got Bill up to the house, inside, and onto the spare bed. For reasons I don’t need to go into, its just better not to sleep next to a drunk. Derek stood back while I pulled the shoes and pants off Bill. I was on all fours on the bed, but there is a mirror and I could see that he didn’t exactly look away while my ass was up in the air. I smiled; after all, I would have looked at his ass too.
I should have paid him right then and there, but instead I asked him if he wanted a drink. He replied that he still had to drive home but water would be good. I turned on the stereo, told him to have a seat, and basically did everything but get him that drink. When I did come back from the kitchen, he had taken off his jacket. I sat next to him as he took a long pull on his water. We talked while he finished it, then he stood. Jumping up, I told him I would refill his glass. I heard him laugh softly as I ran back to the kitchen. When I returned, he was still standing. He took the glass and set it down. Then he moved close and put his hands on my waist. I was a little surprised, but put my hands on his shoulders as he started to sway to the music. His body was hard and I found myself enjoying the feel of it up against mine. In no time we were really slow dancing and I was liking it. It crossed my mind what Bill would think if he saw this, but I knew he was passed out cold.