A Taxi Cab Ride to Remember

When I was younger I would look forward to the serendipity section of "real" letters to skin magazines, those unbelievable stories that, upon reflection, may or may not have actually occurred in real life.

I mean I'd never thought I'd get a blow job on a train, but well, it happened...just like I had once read in a magazine. I'd never screwed my sister, but then, who would want to?

Reading those stories back then was so very exciting. Now we have Literotica, where people spin yarns of all kinds, many of which undoubtedly are based in part on real live life occurrences while others, well, are the results of active, wishful imaginations.

My buddy Steve, for instance, and I were sharing some brews when he just had to tell me how he'd banged a woman at work he'd been flirting with for years. He did her in a storage closet. No reason it wasn't true!

Those mind blowing, out of the ordinary experiences are way too few and are way too far apart for this guy. Most of mine centered on the unfaithfulness of my fucking whore of an ex-wife, which by itself proved there are a lot of those serendipity experiences out there because she played a starring role. Not bad, except for the fact she was having them with a score of other guys, not yours truly.

Still I have had a fair share of hot experiences. The best are mere happenstance. Unplanned moments in time that you have to tell someone about - but by the same token, you can't tell your better half, your significant other, your wife or partner. They might be innocent, or sometimes pre-meditated adultery.

I had dated a sweet, innocent girl in high school, Chloe, for months of my senior year. She was a pretty young sweetheart of a girl. We went to dances, dinners, movies and hung out together, not as a couple because we weren't steady or anything, but we were close. She did date a couple other guys, but we had something special.

Over the months we'd kiss, hell we'd made out and let our hands wander all over each other's clothed bodies. So much wandering that I'd had several wet dates rubbing against her or with her.

I'd asked, begged, cajoled and tried every trick in the book to have her jerk me off, blow me and even offered to lick her pussy. "No way, Rob, no way." It wasn't to be. No matter how I asked her in the car at Crum Creek Park among the parked cars other lovers, no actual insertion sex was going to happen.

Yet playing with those boobies covered by thick and soft sweaters wasn't exactly a chore, and fake fucking her on the floor of her parent's basement was pretty hot as well. We shared a lot of youth together as 18-year-olds before going out separate ways to colleges on different coasts. Oh we kept in touch, but from afar wasn't the same. We each dated others and after a bit the being in touch got farther and farther apart.

She got married right after college to a future lawyer, working herself as an accounting manager before kids came into the picture. Her husband ultimately because a prominent lawyer, and around the holiday season I'd occasionally see them at her parent's stately brick house.

Our ways had parted, each had our own lives, but every once in a while I'd think of her just wondering what she was up to, how she was doing.

I'd do the same for other girls I had dated, guys I'd known to for that matter, just wondering.

It was surprising when the "friend" request came in from one of those business card sharing sites.

Chloe Simpson wants to link up with you online, a friend.

Clicking though, I saw her photo, smiling in a business setting, and of course I clicked yes.

That led to being able to see her business background and her mine, and over time we exchanged hellos and how are you doing notes.

Nothing untoward, just old friends reminiscing and talking about our families, our worlds and the things we were now doing with our lives. She gave me a shoulder to cry on when Nancy Jean was doing her Blowjob Queen imitation, sucking off guys behind my back that I'd ultimately found out about. Chloe advised me to kick her ass out, but gracefully, which ultimately I did. I'd counseled Chloe ongoing part-time so she could spend more time with her kids, especially since her hubby was a prominent lawyer and they didn't need her salary.

We saw each other a couple times over holidays when they flew in - first class - from the coast, and actually had dinner once when her hubby was speaking in Wilmington at a conference. It was worth the hour drive, as she was just like I remembered, only more mature and, well, pretty.

Statuesque I'd say. She worked out a couple times a week and did yoga as well.

That night she smiled and kissed me on the cheek when the night ended, and I watched longingly as she strode into the lobby of her hotel and presumably into the arms of her husband. Still, it was great seeing her, discussing the good old days, jobs, kids, politics and the economy.

Our friendship continued and we'd regularly e-mail and we made a habit of talking at least once a month. Texting was out - no reason to get our spouses reason to suspect anything, because there was nothing happening between us but friendship!

In a lot of ways we were like old friends chatting, mostly about work, friends and our relationships. Chloe was very helpful with my problem of Nancy Jean, and when she hit me that Charles, her husband, was, possibly having an affair with his executive assistant I tried to be supportive.

Her situation was different than mine had been. I caught Nancy Jean in the act. She merely suspected Charles was straying, but there were late nights and excuses for not making love when he arrived home - even when she dressed inappropriately appropriate for the occasion. In her case, he was the huge main breadwinner and she was on a pre-nuptial agreement that was crucify her, not him, if they split up for any reason.

They continued on, living life, humping on Saturday nights, and traveling royally to this vacation place or that. Always looking good, always being perfect.

The rumor and innuendo phase ended when she was doing the laundry and accidentally found lipstick streaks on his boxers. How he could have been so stupid one can only surmise, but she knew lipstick and she knew his boxers and putting two and two together didn't take CSI. The man was cheating, getting his whistle blown, by someone who wore crimson maestro on their lips.

She looked the other way or was merely resigned at the fact of his transgressions, made the best of it, and I helped her navigate those shark filled waters to remain sane.

It wasn't that she and I weren't inappropriate at times, as we'd disclose intimate details about our relationships when there were intimate details to disclose. She'd talk about how Charles loved going down on her and then banging fast and furious without regard to her orgasm. I'd laugh and complain when my current lover did this or that, or even give her the details of my naughty behavior with Nancy Jean who regularly called on me to help ends meet. That was fine with me, as long as the end of my cock met her mouth!

Chloe was very interested in Nancy Jean from an almost serendipity story angle. I'd tell a tale, embellish when I could, and smiled to myself when I believed Chloe was actually Jilling off to my stories. She particularly liked those centering on Nancy Jean coming to my office to plead for an increase in my monthly stipend to supplement her teacher's pay.

Those naughty calls were exciting for me as well, as I knew I was an incorrigible jerk "making" Nancy Jean suck me off in the office with my secretary right outside the door. But also so very exciting because Chloe got off on the differing ways I'd humiliate my serial cheating ex-wife.

Chloe and I'd trade naughty stories, and every once in a while we'd talk on the phone about those high school days, doing, well, phone sex about rubbing each other off on the basement of her parent's house.

Thinking about it always brought a smile to my face from the fond memories.

All of which brings us to the present, as a couple months back Chloe emailed to say she'd be in Philadelphia with Charles as he would be speaking at a another hoity conference. One thing led to another and we agreed that we'd meet for dinner on the night he'd be sequestered with co-workers and competitors in the conference cocktail party and dinner.

Believe me, I had no false expectations about the night. Dinner and a walk or something, and I was not even remotely thinking "anything" naughty would happen. Just two old friends getting together and having a nice night out.

She met me at the restaurant Moshulu, a legendary Scottish sailing vessel, the world's oldest and largest square rigged sailing vessel still afloat. A fixture on the Delaware River just off Philadelphia's Society Hill, I felt it would be an away from prying eyes location for a fun dinner. It was that and more. Her husband was across town at his convention so the coast was clear. She just said she was visiting some high school friends for dinner while he listened to droning on speakers.

Sitting at a table next to a window overlooking the river I glanced twice at the woman who stepped into the dining room and stopped, looking around. The first look was, well, wow, what a pretty woman. The second one ignited my brain into realizing the woman in the striking black dress was Chloe.

We hugged and sat, enjoying wine and the view of the river in a half moon booth. It was noisy in the restaurant so I slid my ass over toward her and we sat side-by-side where we didn't have to speak loudly to hear each other.

The food was good, the company better, and the night flew by quickly. We talked about today, but focused heavily on the past where we'd trade stories about the people we grew up with and what they were doing now. About people we'd dated, and there was of course some innuendo about the two of us doing naughty things in the car or basement floor. She even joked that she should have "given it up" for me back in the day, and I explained that then I'd have been her "butt boy" forever.

We laughed.

I smiled when I noticed a guy at a table across from us kept looking at our table. He's start at Chloe's legs, which I surmised were encased by black pantyhose.

After dinner we walked the outside of the ship, enjoying the night, and we hugged. She kissed my cheek and we walked arm and arm from the vessel.

There was no wait for a taxi and I told the cabbie where we were heading, but to take a circuitous route along the riverside, Market Street, and the parkway to the Art Museum before heading to her hotel.

The cabbie, a grizzly looking guy wearing a Phillies cap, wasn't the type to give a street-by-street description of the City. Rather he'd answer questions as we went, but truthfully there were not many. We held each other close in the back seat, two old friends, until that spell was somewhat broken when Chloe's hand moved from my thigh to my crotch.

At first I was going to say something, but thinking better I just sat there as she began stroking my dick thought by pants along the ride along Delaware Avenue. She looked at me and smiled, and I bent over and kissed her cheek.

Moving back she kept stroking as the cabbie discretely watched the action in his rear view.

When Chloe leaned over and whispered, "Take it out," I thought I'd cum in my pants. Maneuvering around, unzipping and slipping my dick out of my underwear, Chloe gave a little gasp as it sprang to attention. "He likes me," was her whispered statement. "It's so nice."

Nuzzling against my neck, Chloe stroked my dick as I wiggled to her touch. It was incredible. Her hand moved with a bit of practiced precision and elicited all kinds of sensations, all of which made me want to blast. We were stopped at a red light a block from City Hall when I said I was getting close, and she backed off.

The spell was nearly broken when her smart phone started ringing the theme from the LA Law television series, saying it was her husband. She apologized as I noted the cabbie looked astonished that the girl jerking me off was going to take a call from her husband. I just kept thinking it was a dumb fucking phone not a smart time given the timing of the call and the breaking of the spell.

"Hello Charles. Yes, great dinner, just leaving the restaurant...in the lobby? Okay, but it will be 20 minutes or so. Yes, I love you too. Hope the dinner was good. Mine was great...bye."

Chloe clicked her phone to ensure the line was disconnected, smart girl. Thinking the mood was broken and the hotel was next stop, I was resigned to a highlight reel of her actions over the last few minutes that I could replay when I whacked off.

"How far are we from the hotel?" she asked.

"About seven minutes," replied the cabbie. "We can still circle the Art Museum and be there in 15, no problem."

Chloe looked at me, reaching over and stroking me once again. "Let's do that, and, uh, keep your eyes on the road!"

"Yes mam," said the cabbie, winking at me when she wasn't looking. It was as if she and he knew something I didn't. But I soon found out.

Stroking my cock back to full erection, we slowly drive up the Ben Franklin Parkway toward the Rocky Statue at the Art Museum. I mentioned to her that her ministrations felt great, but she slowed, looked at me, and said emphatically, "You haven't felt anything yet."

While that registered, she slipped even closer, lowered her head, and began licking my mushroom. Round and round she went with her tongue, wetly licking my dick while stroking from the base upward. It was an incredible feeling, but not as incredible as when those lovely lips encircled my cock and slowly made their way down the shaft and then back up.

I groaned without knowing it at first, and then looked forward where the cabbie was adjusting his mirror for a better look. Soon we had circled the museum and the cabbie pulled to a stop, not at a light but across from the Art Museum steps.

Chloe was working my cock, up and down all the while stroking as I moved in cadence with her movements. The girl could suck cock, and I was receiving the benefit of her practiced charm. She alternated quick hand strokes with slow mouth magic, then reversed the sensation. On her knees in the back seat now for better traction, I reached over and played with her ass while enjoying the mouth music.

The cabbie had given up all of his ignoring façade and was now turned around and watching the girl work my bulging cock. His eyes were riveted on the action as I slowly lifted her black dress and displayed her dark panties perfectly set off with four garter straps holding up black stockings and not pantyhose. The gap between stocking tops and panties reflected ever so white in the moonlight, and that view got me hotter.

Holding a hand on Chloe's head to guide her, I was in heaven. She worked feverously on my dick, bringing forth wonderful sensations. She was a great cocksucker and I merely watched as she savored my well worked cock. Soon I pointed to the cabbie's hand, lifted mine, and he replaced with his moving her head for me.

Unbelievable! If she knew, she didn't say anything, as she merely kept sucking my cock.

Suffice it to say, this kind of action doesn't last long, and soon I whispered that I was going to cum so she could move off my cock as I blasted.

My words just slowed her sucking and she firmly tightened her lips around my dick. The explosion that followed was full of a series of spurts that came from deep within me, more than I can remember cumming in ages. My dick jerked as she played with it, sending sensations throughout.

All the while she stayed affixed to my cock like glue held us together.

When I came out of my orgasmic state I motioned from the cabbie to get us going, hoping Chloe didn't have a clue to my ungentlemanly actions of having a stranger hold her head with my cock in her mouth. Seemingly oblivious she cleaned my cock as we made our way over the bridge toward 30th Street Station and the exclusive hotel.

My cock was spic and span cleaned when Chloe arose and sat back in the seat, adjusting her dress, garters and stockings that had been somewhat unaligned in the backseat action.

There had been no words between us since the act as we both seemed to luxuriate in the after sex sensations. As we approached the hotel the phone rang again. Chloe said she'd be there in five minutes and hung up, kissing me on the cheek and saying it had been a wonderful night. She thanked the cabbie as well for driving safely and taking good care of us.

"I forgot to wear my seat belt," she admitted, and both of us laughed.

We were the fourth cab in line at the front of the hotel and Chloe insisted on jumping out, saying Charles might get the wrong idea if she saw her and a guy in the cab. She strode across the way to the front door, never looking back but walking with a bit of a sway that was oh so very hot. The cabbie inched his way forward, as there wasn't a way around the other cars.

"Oh my God," said the cabbie.

"What?"

"She is kissing him; she's kissing her husband after sucking your cock!"

Looking over, she sure was. One leg lifted in the perfect movie pose, his hand held her ass while he was trading spit and cum with his wife. My cum.

I mean, she couldn't have swallowed it all, right?

We drove back toward the PATCO line where I'd be whisked back to New Jersey, the cabbie and I talking about the ride with him trying to get more information on the mystery wife who had sucked my dick. He couldn't believe it was the first time it had happened - I said she'd never blown me before - he smiled and said she must have done it in a car before because she was so, well, practiced.

Whatever, it was such as serendipity situation I just had to write about it.

Oh, and the cab driver got a $40 tip in addition to his free porn show.

EPILOGUE - Chloe called me upon her return to the west coast. We spoke for a while before she admitted that Charles was overly amorous that night when they went to their room.

"I don't know what got into him, but I was so hot after kissing him with some of your stuff still in my mouth I'd have humped a camel!"

She related that they'd met some of his friends for a half hour or so, his hands roaming her stocking covered legs, before heading upstairs.

Upon entering the room he bent her over the writing desk, lifted up her dress and slipped down her panties quickly, slipping his dick in and fucking her fast and furiously until he shot a load faster than he had in months.

"It was great! I kept thinking it was you...in the backseat of the cab...and the cabbie was watching."

I said for her to hold that thought, that it was a "date" and we'd have to do it.

She said she didn't know if she could follow through that far - full sex - but that she "wanted my cock in her mouth again in any event. I love your big dick."

Smiling, I contemplated the future, glad I'd gotten that cabbie's number. He was a keeper as well. A driver who could watch and not crash must be worth a good tip.