I've been a cab driver for the best part of ten years now and believe me you certainly get to see some life, even for an overweight 50 year like me.
Usually it's some skimpily dressed drunken chick leaving a nightclub that ends up naked on the back seat or takes my cock in her mouth as I drive her home. Then of course you always get your regulars, little yuppy scrubbers that think it's fun to fuck the cabby. I love to get them naked as I drive along; one hand on the wheel while the other fingers a nice wet cunt. Then I park up somewhere quiet and fuck them face down over the hood.
But it's not just the youngsters. Only a few nights ago, I picked up this middle aged couple from a restaurant. She was mid to late forties, nice looking and dressed in a knee length skirt with slits up the sides and a low neck blouse showing an awful lot of cleavage. They were both pretty pissed and as I opened the door to let them in I got a good view of her long legs clad in black stockings. As she slid across the seat, the skirt rode even higher showing her suspenders and skimpy panties. She just smiled at me as her husband climbed in beside her but made no effort to cover up.
During the journey all I could hear was the rustle of clothes and her giggling as he touched her up. It was a shame I had to break them up to ask for directions. "Oh yeah, next left mate, Ladbrook lane. It's the last house on the left." I turned into an unmade road and avoiding the potholes drove to the end as instructed and stopped in front of a house. When I turned to face them I got a nice surprise. The woman was lying back in the middle of the seat with her legs spread wide exposing a neatly trimmed pussy and stocking clad thighs. Her blouse was also open showing two very large succulent looking tits with very hard erect nipples. She was looking straight at me while lazily rubbing her clit. "Angie thought you might like a tip," the man said grabbing a handful of tit. Now no cabbie would ever refuse a tip so I followed them into the house and spent the next hour filling her holes while hubby took photo's.
But you know, just when you think you've seen it all something strange happens.
For three years I'd been taking a guy called Gordon to and from a special needs college. Gordon was thirty years old and lived with his Mother in a big old dilapidated house on the outskirts of town. He told me that his Dad left home shortly after he was born leaving him alone with 'Mother' as he liked to call her.
He was a nice guy but a few bricks short of load if you know what I mean.
Over the months, I built up a good relationship with him until eventually he started confiding in me about his relationship with his Mother. It started after a casual comment about girls when to my astonishment he said he was still a virgin. "Mother forbids me to have anything to do with girls, she says men are bad and only want one thing." The poor sod wasn't even allowed to watch television. In fact, his only distraction was college, all male of course, and once a month when he had to take Mother to her favourite restaurant.
From what I could tell his mother absolutely dominated him and the poor guy was a hotspot of seething resentment. I know I shouldn't have done it, but someone had to help so I started to lend him some adult story and picture books, he was amazed at the hard core pictures and would talk non-stop about sex during our ride to and from college.
His Mother was in her late forties. She had a good full figure and was still reasonably attractive but boy was she a man hating miserable old bitch. Whenever I took them to the restaurant it was always the same. "You there, wait here for us, do you hear me?" She treated me with utter contempt, like I was her personal servant or something. And then there was the way she dressed, always the same, black from head to foot. I asked Gordon about it and he said all her clothes were black. He told me about what he called 'restaurant night'.
"Mother lays in the bath while I get her clothes all neatly laid out on the bed ready for her." He explained. "She likes me to get them ready. I know where all the different bits are kept," he said almost proudly. "First I get her black silk stockings and suspenders, they're in the bottom drawer, then her matching black panties and bra, they're in the middle drawer, then her favourite dress, that's not in a drawer, that's hanging in the closet. Then I have to get her shoes, the ones with the spiky heels."
"Surely you don't have to dress her," I asked. "No silly, I have to wait outside as she gets dressed herself." He looked very sullen. "Gordon, is there something wrong?"
"Mother makes me comb her hair while she sits at the dressing table."
"Don't you like combing her hair?"
"Yes, but I keep looking at her boobies and it makes my thing hard, Mother gets very cross with me when my thing gets hard." It was like talking to a little boy. "But how can you see her boobies if she's dressed?" I asked him. "Oh, she doesn't put her dress on until just before we go out, she says she doesn't want to get it all creased."
"So you mean she sits there in her stockings and things while you comb her hair?"
