Exhibitionist True Stories: Taxi Driver

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Exhibitionist True Stories: Taxi Driver[A new, potential erotic friend asked what my experiences in exhibitionism were. I realized my experiences could fill a book. So I begin with the first!]I was around 19 or 20 still living with my parents in suburban South Jersey.I worked at a mall, and because I didn’t drive, I relied mostly on rides from my mall co-employees (I don’t call them co-workers because we all worked at different stores in mall. And now I’m having a flashback to the cheese fries and Chik Fil A sandwiches and yummy, thick waffle fries – the popular meal choice of my esteemed colleagues and myself!).Every once in a while I took the bus, or rather, several buses, to my job or jobs, at the mall. The bus way also took over 2 hours, for a journey that would take about 10 or 15 minutes in a car.So, I went with friends and chipped in for gas.On a couple of occasions, I called a cab.This time, when I called for a ride, I knew I would give the driver a treat, especially if he turned out to be an older black man, which, to me, was the demographic most bayraklı escort physically attracted to me.The cab arrived, and I was ready. Underneath my work clothes (casual blouse and skirt), I had put on a pretty black lace bra, and no panties. I had read all of Nancy Friday’s books about women’s sexual fantasies, had imagined a few of my own, and was really randy, wet, and ready to act them out.It was a mild, overcast autumn day – my favorite weather. I heard the honk, looked out of my bedroom window, grabbed my purse, and went downstairs and out the door. I saw the driver was an older black man and my already wet pussy tingled even more. The fact that my skirt was short and that I was completely bare underneath, and was out and about that way, already was hot enough for me to cum on the spot. But I wanted to save, savor, and share this arousal. I had a plan to do something special, it would be my first time doing anything like this, after many months of thinking and fantasizing about it.I walked down the driveway and opened the door, stepping in escort bayraklı carefully, to avoid premature flashing.I told him where I wanted to go, and as he drove, I sensed I wasn’t the only one putting out a sexual vibe. After the smallest bit of mutual small talk I began to open my blouse and I said, “Do you like my bra?” The taxi driver turned around to now see what I was referring to and showing him… I only let him appreciate the design of the lace bra for a few seconds before lifting my breasts out of the cups for him to enjoy the true beauty of the display.Then I leaned back and spread my legs.Watching his eyes move to take in a good view of my naked, slightly hairy cunt was almost enough to make me cum again. (This whole experience had me edging before I knew what edging was.)I don’t recall how it happened or how we got there, but sometime after I showed the taxi driver my pussy, he ended up driving us to a wooded area near my requested destination.He got into the back and I sucked his cock. It was soft and covered with lint, but at least bayraklı escort bayan it was clean smelling and neutral tasting. He did not cum, and I did not hold him in my mouth long enough, nor tease him orally to even get to precum. Now it was my turn, and the whole reason I was there in the first place.I leaned back in the back seat and I spread my legs. Cab driver leaned in and lay on my thighs. I was surprised by how nice it felt to have a warm body there. This was my first time receiving oral. When he placed his warm, wet mouth on my pussy, it felt exquisite. It was so amazingly good to feel that I could only take a few seconds of it before I felt myself starting to cum. I stopped, though, because I didn’t want to cum with him. For some reason, perhaps because until then I had only ever orgasmed on my own, and because I had no emotional connection to, or even respect for, this persun, I chose not to. It felt like I would be giving him my power. So I came dangerously close, but I did not come at all. I was fine with that. The whole experience, from fathoming to dressing to presentation to completion, was more than enough to write home about.I had him drive me to my place of business, and for the next couple of days he came to see me, hoping for a repeat performance I never gave him.—the end—

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