I know all the standard clichΓ©s about cab drivers, what they see and what they get up to. Most of the rumours are put about by the cabbies themselves, I think. Believe me, most of them are total bullshit! We work long hours and much prefer to get paid the fare than to sample the offered delights of some drunken woman who would prefer to open her legs rather than her purse. But I've been in this job for over twenty years and occasionally something out of the ordinary does happen.
I usually work the graveyard shift - 8pm to 8am. It has it's advantages and it's drawbacks: the traffic is usually much lighter at that time and the tips are better, but it does mean that I get home just as my wife is going to work herself so that means very little sex for us. We've been married a long time and been passing each other in the hall for most of that. I know that I've strayed a few times and I'd be an idiot if I thought Emma hadn't done the same. I know she keeps a few toys around the bedroom to help keep her satisfied, but I also know that they are no substitute for the real thing. The thought of her with another man used to bother me when I was younger, but as the time has gone on, I've tended to think about it less and less. On the odd occasion when the thoughts do enter my head I can't help but smile and hope she's having a good time!
Last Friday night was one of those times. Emma had told me that she was going out "with the girls" later in the evening. I had noticed a new dress hanging in the closet the previous day; a nice little black number with thin straps over the shoulders and a short hem. I'd looked at it: the hem was a little too short for just going out with her girlfriends, I thought. I guessed there was more to it!
Driving around in the cab that night, I couldn't keep the thoughts from my head. They buzzed around my brain; who was she with? What was she doing? Was she in some cheap motel with a strange man? It became more and more difficult to keep my attention on the road. I kept seeing women in short, black dresses and every time I passed one I'd look to see if it was Emma. It never was, but I kept looking anyway. My attention was so distracted I nearly missed the tall, well dressed man as he raised his hand from the side of the road in the time honoured fashion. Nearly missed him, but not quite. My foot hitting the brake was almost a reflex action and I swerved sharply, pulling to the kerb in front of him.
"You got time to drive around for awhile, pal?"
I sighed as I saw his skimpily dressed female companion. Another hooker and her customer, I thought. I usually try to steer clear of this type of fare, but so far the evening had been very quiet - solid work for an hour or so would pay pretty well.
"Sure, buddy, I'm all yours!" I replied
"That's what she keeps saying!" the man joked as he ushered the woman into the back seat.
I pulled out into the road and began to head for the financial district of the city. It would be quiet there at this hour and I though it might provide my passengers with a little privacy. I kept glancing back in my mirror. My earlier thoughts of Emma had made me quite horny and I shifted in my seat to try and get my growing erection into a more comfortable position. I looked at the woman. She was obviously a little drunk but not completely pissed. She was nice looking: maybe late twenties, early thirties with shoulder length blonde hair. I almost laughed out loud when I noticed she wore a very similar black dress to the one I knew Emma to be wearing now. She had kicked off her shoes and her long, stockinged legs were tucked underneath her. The strange thing was that, apart from the guy stroking her leg, neither of them seemed all that eager to get down to business. I have taxied many hookers and their customers over the years and it's my experience that the lady likes to get the business started as soon as she can. When the man in the back seat spoke, it startled me for a moment. I realised that I'd been staring.
"Sorry, pal. Didn't mean to stare, but your...er...friend is wearing a dress just like my wife's."
"Do you like it?" replied the blonde. It was the first time she'd spoken.
"Sure. Beats the hell out of looking at old women in sweat pants!" I replied.
The guy and the blonde both laughed.
"Would you like to see what she's got underneath?"
There it was. I knew it was coming. "Hey! No thanks pal," I said quickly. "This is my living, y'know? Just pay the fare and I'll be happy and keep outa your way! I got no desire to watch a hooker take her dress off!"
"She's no hooker, man," came the reply, "This little slut's my wife and she's as horny as hell. Don't worry, your fare's safe, but I doubt she wants you to stay out of the way!
I was beginning to get curious - and a little harder - but decided to play it cool. "I just do the driving, pal." I said into the mirror, "You folks do whatever it is that turns you on!"
"What turns me on is you looking at me in the mirror!" said the blonde, "I'm feeling soooo sexy!"
As if to prove her point, I watched in the mirror as the lady slowly opened her legs. The hem of the dress' skirt was tight and fitted snugly around her hips. The action of her opening her legs caused it to ride up bit by bit until a pair of tiny, white bikini panties became visible. I gulped noisily and tried to tear my eyes away from the mirror and back to the road but it was impossible. All I could manage was a few quick glances into the light oncoming traffic before returning my gaze to the mirror.
"Mmmmm, I think he likes me, John." the blonde whispered to her husband. "See? He can't take his eyes off my panties!"
"That's great, honey," the husband replied, "just what you wanted.....why not show him a little more, huh?"
Without waiting for his wife to either agree or disagree, the tall, well dressed man put his hands up his wife's dress and began to tug those little panties down her legs. She giggled and wriggled her ass on the seat, lifting her hips to allow the brief garment to be eased over the swell of her buttocks and down her stockinged thighs. Once she was free of them, the husband tossed them over onto the front passenger seat. I couldn't resist it. My cock was as hard as I could ever remember it as I reached out my hand and touched her underwear. They were silky and sexy, and as my fingers found and explored the gusset, they felt very damp. A musky, womanly fragrance filled the cab.
Once again, I watched as the woman spread her legs. Now free of her panties, I could see the folds of her hairless pussy open like a spring flower. The moisture on her labia glistened in the gloomy interior. It was tough to tear my eyes away from such an erotic sight, but as I looked up at her pretty face I could see she was smiling at me.
The husband was now busying himself with the thin straps of her dress - sliding them down over her slender, tanned shoulders - he saw me looking and also smiled.
"Wanna see her tits?" he asked simply.