“Mmmmm….” was her reply as she grasped his cock and started pumping it along with her bobbing and squeezing of his balls.

He announced his orgasm with a growl and she stopped bobbing, but kept stroking his cock as it emptied into her hot, waiting, accepting mouth.

He let go of her hair and leant his head back again, spent and happy. She made a couple more slurping noises and then sat up. Her eyes were dreamy and she had a little bit of her boyfriend’s cum on her chin. She smiled and made no attempt to cover herself.

“I told you I was going to drink his cum,” she smiled as she looked me directly in the eyes. “I’ll bet you need to cum now, too, don’t you Mr Driver?”

I nodded my head.

“How close are we to our address?” she smiled again as she cupped her left breast.

Without turning back in my seat, I pointed to the windscreen. “About a block.”

Her smile turned wicked and she leant forward in her seat, her boyfriend’s spunk on her chin. “Take out your cock, then, Mr Driver,” she cooed.

I did as I was told.

“Now, turn back round in your seat and drive us there,” still cooing.

I thought she was having me on, but, again, I did as I was told. Thinking that was all it was going to be, my cock started to deflate. Man, was I ever happily surprized when I felt her hand grasping my shaft! I damn near jumped out of my seat.

“Have you ever shot your load while driving, Mr Driver?” she purred in my ear. “Ever empty your balls all over the dash or your steering wheel?”

“No,” I managed.

“I’ll give you an extra 50 over the metre if you can hold it until we arrive at our address,” she purred again as she slowly started to stroke my begging cock.

“Alright,” I swallowed hard. It was only a block, I should be able to last that little bit. But, of course, she wasn’t going to make it easy.

“Did you like watching me?” I could feel her breathe on my ear. “Did you like seeing me starkers in your taxi?”

I slowly nodded my head.

“I love being starkers in your taxi, Mr Driver. I just plain love being starkers, anyway! And I loved you watching me suck and swallow my boyfriend’s cock, too.”

My cock jumped in her hand. With less than a quarter of a block, I thought I wasn’t going to make it.

“Ooo, you are hard and ready, aren’t you, Mr Driver?”

She let go of my cock and reached over to grab her clothes. I thought it was over and that she was going to get dressed, seeing how close we were to their address. But she returned to my cock with her halter top in her hand, wrapping the soft blue material around my shaft before gasping me tightly once again.

“I don’t want you to mess your cockpit there, Mr Driver,” she giggled in my ear at the word “cockpit”. Childish, but, none the less, funny. She started pumping my for all she was worth.

I stopped the cab infront of their address. I’d made it. She kept on pumping me.

“You’re going to make me mess your pretty little top,” I warned.

It only took three or four more strokes and I emptied my balls into her halter top as she continued to stroke my spurting cock.

“Yes, Mr Driver, yes!” she hissed in my ear, obviously enjoying giving me such a handjob.

I recovered enough to stop the metre. Her boyfriend’s hand surrounding a wad of cash came over the back of the seat. I reached to grab it. Not bothering to count it, I set it on the dash. She let go of my cock, but left her top wrapped around me.

While she was taking care of me, he tidied himself and put his pants back on. As soon as I had the cash, he’d opened his door and started to disembark from the cab.

“Thanks,” she whispered in my ear and started to follow her boyfriend out the door.

“Wait, Miss, your clothes!” I called after her.

She leant her head back in the door, her lovely hair already wet from the rain. “Keep them, Mr Driver!” she laughed. “I’m going to stay naked for a while!”

She closed the door and skipped off into the rain after her boyfriend. I watched her cute bum as she skipped up the path to join her boyfriend, kissing him on the mouth. I waited for them to enter their door and then pulled away in the taxi.

The cash on the dash was as promised, 50 over the metre. I counted it after I’d pulled back over a couple of blocks away to straighten myself up. I drove a couple more blocks and dumped her clothes, my spunk and all, into a collection bin for used clothes, then drove away, looking for other passengers in the rain.