It turned me on, I'll admit. I wanted to say 'Wow, thanks.' But of course, not being a dirty little slut at the time, I said 'I'm sure it isn't'.
Then over the next year or so as I continued to properly mature, I started going out and drinking, and experienced that feeling of being smashed, lying on the floor at your friend's house with five guys leaning over you pinching your nipples and trying to roll you over to slap your ass, begging you for drunk sex and going in for jerky hook-ups. It was the feeling of being desired, of having attention, of feeling wanted. Most of all, though, I felt like one smoking hot piece of meat, and that was an incredible feeling.
Following that was at school, throwing on different kinds of clothes in the morning - tight black leggings that hugged my perky ass which would make the boys' mouths drop on sight. Short-shorts that nearly exposed my crotch when I bent over began to knead their way into my wardrobe. White, half see-through tops that exposed the outline of my push-up bra, and a whole new loop of friends who did the same thing started to take place of my child-hood ones, who labelled me a 'slut who doesn't care about her friends', which was true. I'm not going to deny it. Well, I did care about my friends, but my sexual needs were seriously taking over.
So basically, that was the year I turned into a slut.
It was destined for me - it couldn't have worked out any other way. So now, at 20, I think over what I just did in a cab last week in my half-drunken state after my 20th birthday, horny as fuck and craving sexual attention after a night out being drunk. I was with my two best friends all night, clubbing to celebrate, and they decided to drunk-drive home, and, my uncle having died from doing that, I wasn't stupid enough to join them, so took a cab instead.
I was wearing a tight, black, tit-and-ass hugging short dress that showed off my amazing long legs and figure. My skin was perfect that night, my face was glowing in the moonlight as I struggled along the pavement in my 6-inch heels.
'TAXI!' I called out to the busy street, and nobody in particular. A cab happened to be coming my way though, and picked up from my semi-drunken gestures that they would be the answer to my prayers that night. Just in terms of getting home, not in a sexual way... yet.
I didn't have a thing for cabbies. They were usually old or didn't speak English, and kept their head firmly fixed on the road while they drove as slowly as possible to rack up a decent fix for the night without pissing off the passenger too much.
When I jumped in the cab and slurred out my address, I realised that the cabbie was actually really hot. Like, really, amazingly hot. He had sexy dark eyes fringed with thick lashes, and behind the blue taxi shirt was obviously a large, toned chest. He smiled at me as I entered the cab. What was this? Since when were cabbies like this?
After I'd said my address, I could feel myself just staring at him, but I couldn't really look away. Although in a few seconds, regaining my slutty confidence, I started to act more hard-to-get, because believe me, I wanted to be gotten by him that night.
'Sure,' he said. He really did have the sexy, low, perfect voice that all the famous male movie stars have. I was confused as to why this man wasn't a model and rather a taxi driver. Still, I kept looking out the window, pretending I was over the way he looked. After we'd passed about the first block, though, I noticed the way he looked over at the way my tits perked out of my dress. I felt myself being turned on as his glances got more and more frequent. The sensible, non-drunken part of me said 'Keep your eyes on the road or we'll both die', but my preferred half said 'Ask me to take it off'.
The latter side, call it the 'devil' for now, took over. I moved my hand up to my breast, and massaged it a little, pretending to be moving my bra to a more comfortable position, but then getting turned on by it. I let out a quiet moan and closed my eyes, biting down on my lip. I looked over into the front seat to check on what was happening, and saw the cock of the taxi driver standing well and truly to attention. It made my heart pick up speed and my cunt open up from a little wetness.
'Hey babe, can you keep doing that?' He said in a husky, low tone.
One part of me said, 'Excuse-me?', but the more prominent part at the time said, 'Yes, indeed I can'. Once again, the latter made me move both my hands up to my hard tits, and let out a pleasured sigh. I wasn't very worried about what was happening on the road anymore. Then, I realised we had stopped. I was about to protest and ask what was happening, but then I realised how excited this made me.
Funnily enough, the boot of this taxi was one of those large, high rise ones. I felt a plan forming in my mind, but felt somehow like it was all coming along too easily - maybe even someone else's plan. I dismissed that thought as I saw the cabbie's eyes delving into my cleavage and all I wanted now was a fuck.
'I'm going to step outside for some air, join me if you want', he said, before clicking open the door and then shutting it behind him. It was obviously an invitation, so I took it up.
My vision was only slightly blurred as I got out of the car. It was a beautiful night, and we were next to some small houses and there was a park on the other side of the street. New York is a good-looking city, what can I say.
He was leaning against the back of the cab, arms folded. He actually looked like should a picture be taken at that exact moment, any publisher would pay thousands to put it in their magazine.