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  • Ride Sharing Ch. 03

Ride Sharing Ch. 03

I've seen a lot of things happen in the backseat of the UberBLACK that I drive in between rehearsals and acting gigs. I had a feeling I might again when I saw the the attractive couple on the sidewalk who had hailed a ride to the airport that evening. Their two tall frames tilted toward each other in a way that suggested they were about to fall, hard.

"John?" I asked as he opened the door for her. He nodded.

They looked like professionals, in their fifties, well dressed. She was wearing a silk blouse under a black jacket, and a short skirt that rose up her long legs as she slid across the back seat. He was wearing a stylish blazer, a black t-shirt, and tight jeans. There are two types of black car customers. Folks like this. Or parties. I prefer folks like this. You usually didn't have to clean up after them.

"To the airport?" I asked.

"Yes, please," said John. "We'll drop her off, and then I'd like to get a ride home."

"Sounds good," I said. "I'll get that address from you when we get to the airport."

I pulled away from the curb as they slumped back into the comfortable seats. I had some chill electronic dance music on the radio.

"Music OK?" I asked.

"I love it," she said.

It was a nice night. The lights of the city made a kind of light show in time with the music as we merged on to the highway.

When I glanced at the back seat they were holding hands and looking in each other's eyes. "Thank you," she said. It looked like she was about to cry. Then they leaned into an embrace. I turned back to the road ahead, and when I glanced at the rearview mirror again they were making out.

I turned the music up a little. The pace of the rhythm increased, too, with a deeper beat.

It's amazing how many people think the backseat of my car is like a private room, especially at night. I try to give them their privacy, though nothing separates us really. This isn't a cab, let alone a limo. But it is a nice, big, black SUV. So people might feel like they're special and can slip away from it all back there.

There is a note on the back of my seat clearly advising passengers that I have a camera recording every ride for my own safety. Still, the things I have seen. Some quite sweet, like this, I thought as I glanced again. Her jacket was open and he was fondling her generous, well-shaped tits through her blouse. She had her hand on his thigh. This was soft porn, at best. And no problem as far as I was concerned.

Sometimes I would point out the sign if things seemed about to go too far and create a mess I might have to clean up. If anything looked coercive, I'd politely but firmly point out the sign right away. Not in my car. I can't control what happens when people get wherever they're going. But not in my car. Only once had I felt like I had to call 911 after dropping off a guy who looked like he was taking a broken young woman with him forcefully against her will. I gave the 911 operator the address and split.

I'm not a cop. I'm not into enforcing rules. I don't mind people sniffing a quick line in my back seat. But no smoking. Necking is fine. Touching is OK. A discrete drink is cool. I get that people hail black cars for parties. But sloppy obvious drinking is no good for any of us on the road, especially if we get pulled over. So I'll say something if a party is getting out of hand. Speaking of hands. Fondling is fine. Hand jobs are OK, if they're discrete. I'll even let the occasional blow job go without remark.

But if it looked like things might get out of hand, like the three guys who started with a circle jerk and then were blowing each other one Saturday night, I'll say something. I almost let them go on, too, though I was afraid of the mess three gushers might make all over the back of the car. Then they started fingering each other's asses. That's when I interrupted them.

"Uh, guys," I said. "You might want to read the sign on the back of my seat."

"Oh, we don't mind," one said, cheekily. "We've been filmed before."

But they did stop and button up for the rest of the ride.

Another night a girl took off her seatbelt, bent over, lifted her skirt, and pointed her ass at her boyfriend. That was brazen. More brazen than I can imagine being in the back of someone else's car. And I can be pretty brazen. The guy started rimming her with this tongue and fingering her pussy. She was moaning loudly. I thought about warning them and asking her to buckle up. Then he took out his cock and started stroking it as he continued to fuck her with his other hand and tongue. I have to admit. It was pretty damn hot. When he unbuckled and kneeled down on the seat behind her and pressed his dick against her asshole, though, that was going a little too far, for safety's sake, anyway.

"Uh, guys," I said. "I need you to buckle up until we get you where you're going safely. Hopefully, you can get a room there," I added with a laugh to try to soften the blow.

That put something of a damper on them, though they continued to make out and couldn't keep their hands off each other the rest of the ride.

I heard a loud moan from the backseat. I glanced in the rearview mirror. It looked like John the rider had his hands between his lady friend's legs now.

I slowly turned the music up a little more. The beat had a real thump now. And when I glanced back her pelvis was tilting back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

I thought about telling them about the camera. A professional couple might appreciate the warning, I thought. But they were so into each other. And she seemed to really be enjoying it.

Really.

I felt myself getting wet. I slid my hand down the front of my pants and rubbed my pussy through the fabric. I played with myself slowly as I stole another glance at them.

Her hips were bucking pretty wildly now as his arm moved like a piston between her legs. She was getting a real good finger fucking. He was kneading one of her luscious breasts with his other hand. And their faces were locked in a passionate kiss.

I felt my clitoris harden and my pussy get wetter. I wedged my hand inside the front of my pants and diddled my clitoris softly. I played with myself a lot when I was driving. Sometimes to keep myself awake. Sometimes to actually get off. Often just for something to do. But not usually when I had passengers.

But I was really wet now. I slid my middle finger into my pussy and tilted my body toward the wheel to get a little better angle. My thumb stroked my clit. It probably wasn't a good idea to come while driving paying passengers. And I'd never done it before, despite seeing some of the things happening in my backseat that definitely turned me on. But for some reason, nothing had ever turned me on quite like this. I could have easily come right then, but I just edged a little and then backed off and relaxed as the rustling and moaning continued in the backseat, with my hand still in my pants, playing gently with my pussy.

As we approached the airport, I heard her moan loudly over the music and thrash around in the backseat. I glanced up to see her thighs tightly gripping his arm as an orgasm ripped through her body, and they fell into a deep embrace.

I almost came then, too, but took my hand out of my pants. We were approaching the terminal.

By the time we got to the curb, she had pulled herself together and straightened out her blouse and skirt. They looked professional again. They still looked like they might fall into each other at any moment. But she leaned over and game him a casual hug.

"Thank you," I heard her say, again, just like at the beginning of the ride. And then she was out of the car, with her bag over her shoulder, striding into the airport. We both watched her long gorgeous legs until she went through the terminal door.

"Wow," I thought, "she sure knows what she wants and how to get it."

"Home now?" I asked.

"Yep," John sighed and gave me the address as he slumped back into his seat.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. It was only fifteen minutes to his house. He was quiet. The music was chill. It was a lovely night.

When we got to his house, I jumped out to open the door, as he fumbled for his things.

I handed him my card when he stood up. "Let me know if you ever need a private driver," I said.

I had found some easy, chill, steady gigs with good customers this way. And he looked like a nice, interesting guy.

"Sorry about that," he said, looking embarrassed. Was he blushing? "I wasn't expecting that."

He was tall and well built, just my type really, when I fantasized about a type, and when I glanced down, he followed my gaze. His hard-on was still straining his tight black jeans. A wet stain spread around the tip.

"No worries," I said. "I see a lot of stuff happen in the back seats of this car. And, actually, that was just about the nicest ever. Women appreciate a man with a nice touch. Especially when she comes first."

He smiled awkwardly and turned to walk toward his front door.

"Good night," I said. "Just let me know if you ever need a ride."

"I will," he said cheerily, as he looked back at me. Maybe even longingly, I hoped. Maybe he would actually call.

I hopped back in the driver's seat and turned up the music as I pulled away. This would be my last ride for the night, I decided. I headed home.

By the time I merged on to the freeway, I had two fingers deep in my pussy. I switched lanes to make sure I had good separation from other cars and set the cruise control. I circled my hardening clitoris with my thumb. I thought about his long fingers inside of me, his hand on my tits, that hard-on in his jeans. I thought about taking it out of his jeans, stroking it, having it fill my mouth. Right there in the backseat of my own car, with her there, too.

I thought about her luscious breasts, so different from my small, tight tits. I imagined burying my face between those breasts and then sucking and nibbling on one of her big hard nipples as I pinched the other. And his cock entered my pussy from behind. I thought about my hand between her legs, my fingers running between her wet lips, finding her hard clitoris, how her pussy would taste, sweet like mine, and plunging one, two, three fingers into her, while my tongue flicked across her clit, her hips rocked on the car seat, and my hips rocked back against his pelvis, his hard cock deep inside me.

And then I fell, hard, in between the two of them, as they collapsed onto me.

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