Hitch a sexy ride to the club
Taxi ride with a sexy, kinky twist
A short piece I have written as part of a smut festival of erotica. My prompt this week was the word ‘hitch’. I hope you enjoy…
A short drive to the club. The lamplights flickered their teasing striped shadows and illumination through the rain spattered windows, dappling the flashes of flesh exposed from her daringly provocative and revealing dress. Light seized every facet of the sparkling costume jewellery adorning the creamy expanse of flesh of her cleavage, well presented in the plunge front outfit.
She could feel the heat from his body through his smart dress pants he’d worn especially for the evening out. Sat as close as they were in the back of the cab, it was a wonder she wasn’t actually on his lap. It had been tempting. She knew that second vodka at home had been a risk to her self control. She never was very restrained around him. Something about him made her want to be reckless, made her fearless, rebellious, a hissing spitting wildcat wanting to rut in the alleys.
He put his hand on her nylon clad legs and agonisingly slowly hitched up the black flamenco style scrap of material that was the pass as the skirt of the dress, only serving to highlight her tiny waist and the flare of her hips leading to toned, muscled thighs. She clenched the one he had under his warm hand right now. The clenching seemed to continue right to her apex and the small button of clustered nerves located there. She bit her lip and kept eyes ahead. What is he doing? What will he do next? Tingles of wetness beginning. Thoughts forming. Breaths hot, rapid, shallow…
He laughed softly. Knowing what this was doing to her. His fingers spread around her stocking covered leg where he had rested his palm, gripping firmly so he was holding her there, feeling almost searing in sensations to her, held just above the knee, close to where her desire was centred, but nowhere near close enough.
The early evening was now evident in her reaction. Why was he always so much more in control? Why did she always revert to being such an uncontrolled mess around him? Damn that man. Love that man. Want to…
His fingers moved again. Hitching up her skirt ruffles even more. Exposing the wide band of lace at the top of the stockings, the ribbon decorated clip that fastened them to her satin belt beneath her outfit. He briefly moved his index finger over the ribboned clip and she gasped softly… if he undid it now there would be no hiding it, she would soon be unravelled completely, as physically as she was mentally, emotionally.
Another soft laugh.
‘Not yet, slut. Calm yourself. We are almost there…’
And suddenly, they were. Pulling up at their destination, she scrabbled for the taxi fare and thrust it at the oblivious driver.
They moved to exit the vehicle, but not before one last cruel torment from him.
‘Behave well for me tonight and I will be sure to reward you well. You know what that means, slut…’
Her entire body convulsed in an orgasmic shudder as he contented himself with a swift movement of all his fingers over the growing circle of wetness at her V, pressing his fingers hard against her through the lace G-string panel and giving her an insight in just those few seconds to the bliss that would come later. She prayed would come later.
It was going to be a difficult, teasing evening, but oh. So worth it.