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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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What the Cab Driver Saw
by Abdulbenthere (address withheld)
***
Lingerie-clad wives get their drunken husbands from the
taxi to the house. (MF, exh, voy, alcohol, humor)
***
My name's Joe. I've been driving a cab in this town for
over twenty years. I've had my share of memorable
fares: College girls changing clothes in my cab,
couples screwing, whores giving blowjobs, you know, the
stuff you see on cable TV. But last week's trip to
Livia Street was one for the record books.
Willy, the bouncer at a downtown bar called Poppa
O'Brien's called me about 2 A.M. to tell me "the Boys"
were ready to call it a night. I knew right away
exactly who he was talking about.
Dave, Hank and Bill are three local business men, real
go-getters who are closing in on their first millions
as they approach their thirtieth birthdays. They're
married to their careers first and second to their
college sweethearts that look like trophy wives are
supposed to look. A year and a half ago all three
couples bought houses on Livia Street, the local yuppie
neighborhood and became famous for entertaining. I'd
never get an invite to their parties, but I did plenty
of business hauling the who's whos home. The wives let
their husbands have a "boy's night out" every month and
I frequently got them home safely. They were always
good for a nice tip.
I pulled up at Poppa O'Brien's Saloon and Willy opened
the cab door for the boys. They were more wasted than I
had ever seen them. Hank was out cold, with his arms
around Dave & Bill who could barley stand up
themselves. Willy poured them into the back seat, made
sure no fingers were in the door and slammed it shut.
"303 Livia Shtreet!" roared Bill.
"Nah, nah," said Dave. "The wives are all at my place.
305 driver..."
"Yer plashe? Water they doin' at yer plashe?" drooled
Bill.
"Din't Angie tole you? They were gonna break open a
bottle of merlot, watch chick flick videoshs, do each
others toe nails and talk about us!"
"Oh yeah, I remember, they w' havin' a slumber party!.
Driver, 305!"
"Yes, sir," I said.
"Hey, Dave, how we gonna get Hank in?" Bill slobbered.
I don't think I can carry him all the way to the door."
"I'll go in and get my wheelbarrow..." moaned Dave.
I thought "This should be worth seeing."
A few minutes and two choruses of their college fight
song later we pulled up in front of 305 Livia. Dave
stumbled up the walk to the well lit porch and stopped
to fumble with his keys. As he tried to put the key
into the keyhole the door opened from inside and I got
a look at DiAnne, Dave's wife. "Holy Shit in a brick
outhouse" doesn't quite describe her: The see-through
white nightie gave me a good look at her 38DD's but
only for a second.
"Honey, are you alri... Oh my god!" she gasped as he
fell past her, close enough for his breath to repulse
her. They disappeared into the house and the sounds
were enough for me to imagine what happened next.
"EEEEK!"
"No, no! Don't worry. He's too drunk to notice us."
"Dave! What are you doing? Not on the rug, damn it!"
Dave staggered out the front door pushing a
wheelbarrow, Halfway down the walk he tripped and went
face first into the monkey grass edging. Dianne ran out
and dropped to her knees next to him, obviously so
worried that she didn't notice me, Damn, that see
through nightie looked good on her! I didn't get a
really good look, though, because two more beauties ran
past her to their fallen soldiers in my back seat.
Sue had her light brown hair tied back in a French
braid. Her pink silk nightgown hung just far enough
past her behind to make me wonder if she was wearing
panties under it. I didn't get much of a look at her
body as she climbed into the back seat yelling, "Hank!
Hank, talk to me!" She put her hands on his cheeks and
turned his face close to hers to see if he was
breathing.
Instead of being disgusted by the whiskey on his breath
she just wrapped her arms around him and whimpered,
"Thank god you're OK!" This was all lost on Bill, who
broke into another chorus of the college fight song.
We were rescued from Bill's singing by Angie who had
run around my cab to the driver's side. Obviously, we
had interrupted some secret female grooming ritual
because her short hair was wet with some kind of jell
that dripped onto her bare shoulders and trickled down
to her black tube top that barely covered her itty
bitty breasts.
The only other piece of clothing on her was a pair of
Valentine's Day panties that were at least a size too
small, even on her toned and trim body. Bill saw her
and stopped singing to proclaim his undying love and
ask her to be the mother of his children. Angie humored
him: "Oh yes, Bill, please come to my bed and mount me
like a stallion!" I couldn't hold the laugh back
anymore and snorted loudly. Even Sue burst out
laughing, still wrapped around her guy.
Well, in a few seconds the girls figured out that Dave
could wait on the grass while Dianne brought the
wheelbarrow over to the cab and helped Sue pull Hank
into it. The two of them pushed the barrow toward Sue's
house and disappeared into it. Angie helped Bill out on
to the street side and pulled his arm over her
shoulders. He made an attempt to fondle her breasts
with his other hand but missed and touched her
washboard abdominal muscles.
"Damn, girl, you'r' in great shape," he drawled as she
lead him toward their house, her ass making the hearts
on her panties seem to jump up and down.
Dave had recovered from his fall enough to start
yelling, "DiAnne! DiAnne!" I hadn't seen DiAnne come
back but she appeared next to him. After all the
commotion I finally got a good look at her and what she
was, or should I say was not wearing. Her shoulder
length black curls framed an angelic face and drew
attention down to her white shoulders and the spagetti
straps of her whisp of clothing. The nightie floated
over her tits and stopped high enough to show her
pierced navel ruby. The matching panties were equally
see through and even under the street light's monocrome
glow I could see her dark pubes as she approached her
man and squatted down.
"I love you DiAnne" Dave slobbered from the ground as
he tried to roll toward her.
"I know Baby, but right now I need your wallet to pay
the driver." She rolled him far enough to reach his hip
pocket and pulled his wallet out
"Don't be gone long shweetheart," Dave growled as she
walked toward my window. As she turned toward me at the
front bumper she pulled her hair back out of her face
and her eyes told me she recognized me from one of
their parties.
"Oh, I'm glad it's you, Mister, uh..."
"Joe," I finished her sentence for her. "I was here
after some of your parties to take your guests home."
"Yeah, that's why I know you won't spread this all over
town." She pulled two fifty dollar bills out of Dave's
wallet and offered it to me.
"Don't worry, ma'am, I know better than to blab," I
said taking the cash. "I hope he survives the hangover
in the morning. They'll really have to pay the piper!"
"Oh, they'll have to pay more than the piper for this,"
she snarled, then flashed an evil smile at me. I could
tell she had something planned for Dave by the sharks
circling in her eyes.
"Good night Joe." She walked on past my window and
around the back of the cab and up the walk. I got a
great view of her backside as she bent down to offer
Dave a hand up. But poor Dave couldn't get up so she
stepped past him and looked back at him. He crawled on
his hands and knees to follow her into the house.
As she closed the door I radioed the dispatcher that I
was available again.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 54