In my heady, sex-brain state, I couldn't make out the words Daniel and the cab driver exchanged with each other. Nor could I make out the words Daniel...spoke into the phone he somehow had pressed against his ear while his hands stroked my hair and heated skin. I shifted in my seat, and moaned as the leather brushed against my overly sensitised pussy. Daniel opened the door and helped me out of the cab. I turned to see the cab driver wave his goodbye, and realised we hadn't paid him the cab. Don't want to wake the idiot up. I drive slow. We talk. It was nice. She seemed like she needed a conversation with someone who wasn't sucking up to her and who genuinely seemed interested. If only she knew that everytime she spoke and looked forward I just observed the masterpiece at the side of me. The conversation took a slightly darker turn when she proceeded to tell me about the arguments they had both been having that night. Trying to remain a little professional I may have called him a. More

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