THE DRIVER
by Valen (valen_thyan@hotmail.com)



- 4 -

"Dear Chantal,

"I bet you didn't expect me to write to you!  I'm 
sorry about the way we left things, and I just want 
you to know how much I care for you.  I know that 
a relationship just wouldn't work between us, but I 
think we could have a beautiful friendship.  Please 
don't let that friendship fade before it even has a 
chance to get started.

"I'm excited to hear about what's new with you.  
Have you given any more thought to university, and 
becoming a guidance counsellor?  I bet that would 
be an interesting career, full of possibilities.

"Anyways, I don't want to scare you off by making 
my first letter really long, so I'll end it here.  
Remember that I'll always be here for you Chantal.

"Your Friend."



She folded the letter and stuffed it back in the 
envelope.  He had actually written.  More than ever 
before she lamented having let him get away.

Though they'd only spent one night together, she 
felt as if she'd known him all her life, and knew she 
loved him.  Perhaps he just had that effect on 
people.  She was certain that she'd gotten much to 
wrapped up in the idea of having someone around, 
and that she would now have to get past this and 
move on with her life.

Indulging her self-pity for one more second, she 
leaned against the wall of mailboxes in the lobby of 
her apartment block.  She closed her eyes and tried 
to bring her mind out of the past and back into the 
present time.  Time... for work; she was going to be 
late for work!

Snapping back to reality, she sped out the door and 
just barely caught the bus.



Chantal's day at work was much the same as usual.  
She was supposed to close this evening, along with 
the cook, Dave.  Chantal's one-word description of 
Dave would be 'greasy.'  He was somehow able to 
irritate people by his mere presence, without even 
opening his mouth.  On the whole, however, he was 
a nice guy- always looking for the next party.

Chantal had barely the time to count her float when 
he came out of the kitchen to hit on her.

"What's the matter Chantal?  You look like you 
could use a little loving," he dripped, putting his 
hands on her hips and moving in close behind her.

"Screw off Dave, don't you have something to fry or 
something?" she laughed, pushing him away.

"The only thing I got cooking is your desire for me, 
baby, and it's just about done."

"How do you come up with these horrible lines?"

"I read Maxim.  Looks pretty slow out here."

"Yeah, well let's hope it stays that way."

"Right, so that way the shop doesn't make any 
money and we lose our jobs, good thinking."

"You're a real drag sometimes, Dave."

"Yeah whatever," he called heading back into the 
kitchen.

Chantal chuckled a bit as he left, feeling much more 
herself after the rousing bout of Dave-bashing.

Despite the economic consequences, to Chantal's 
delight, business was slow all night.  A cute couple 
in their late teens came in just after the small dinner 
rush and stayed for many hours abusing their free 
refill privileges.  A young man came in by himself 
and sat, reading some kind of science textbook for a 
few hours.  Other than that, the shop was empty.


As closing time drew closer, with both her 
customers freshly refilled, Chantal ducked in the 
kitchen to kill time with Dave.  He was on the 
phone when she walked through the door.

"Yeah... okay... how many? Nice..."

Chantal surveyed the kitchen, waiting for Dave to 
hang up.  It was just about eleven o'clock and hr had 
already cleaned everything up for the night.

"Ok, I'll see you there... yeah... later."

"Big plans?" she asked.

"Just meeting my buddies down at Motto's, you 
wanna come?"

Motto's was a nightclub across the river from the 
coffee shop.  It had been years since Chantal used to 
hang out there with her friends.  Her friends had 
grown out of the bar scene, settling down with their 
mates, and left her trying to convince herself that 
she'd also grown out of it.

Dave often asked her if she wanted to come to this 
bar or that, promising he would buy her drinks and 
take advantage of her.  It was all in good fun, and 
normally she would have refused in the meanest 
way possible- just to get a rise- but tonight she was 
feeling lonely.  It would be just the thing for her to 
go out and party for a night; she could get her mind 
off of Greg.

"Okay," she said, looking away.

"Look, it's one thing to deny me your pleasures, but 
don't tease me with it, all right?"

"No, I'm serious, let's go.  Just to the bar though, 
you're not getting any from me," she laughed.

"Hey, just hearing about it would be good enough 
for me."

"Pig," she snorted and turned to clean up for the 
evening.


Bent over behind the counter filling the dishwasher 
with detergent, Chantal heard Dave call out from 
the front of the shop.

"You want me to turn this off?"

She stood up, closing the dishwasher.

"Turn what off?"

He was standing by the neon "Open" sign.

"Oh that, yeah.  Thanks."

"No problem."

They left the shop together, turning off the lights on 
their way out.  Chantal locked the door as Dave 
started his twelve-year-old sedan.

He shovelled some papers off the seat to make room 
as she climbed in.  She noticed that the interior of 
the car wasn't much better than the exterior.  The 
glove compartment clasp was busted and replaced 
with a piece of greyed shoelace.

Dave began driving to Motto's while Chantal pulled 
down the sun visor, looking for a mirror to check 
her appearance.

Her hair looked fine, but she dug around in her 
purse trying to find some lipstick, and maybe some 
powder.  She had to look good, if she were to pick 
up any guys to sleep with.

There was a little muscle contraction somewhere in 
her lower abdomen as she had that thought.  She 
wondered where it came from.  It wasn't like her to 
think like such a slut.

Her eyes flicked back into the vanity mirror and in 
the corner she caught Greg, sitting in the back seat 
winking at her.  She twisted around to check, but he 
wasn't there.

"I seriously need a drink," she announced.

"Amen to that, sister," said Dave, smiling.


It was approaching midnight as Chantal followed 
Dave past the queue at the main doors.  Being a 
regular at Motto's had its advantages.  A bouncer at 
a side door let them in, free of charge, nodding to 
Dave with recognition.  Chantal tried to ignore the 
bouncer's appraising glance at her body and 
followed Dave into the pounding club.  He led her 
on a quick circuit through the bar, eventually 
finding his friends' table.

Although Chantal had never officially met any of 
Dave's friends, there were a few that she'd seen at 
the café before.  Dave pointed at each of his friends 
in turn, giving her more names than she could hope 
to remember and she smiled dutifully at each of 
them.  As she'd expected, she was the only girl at 
the table.  While annoying at first, she quickly 
decided that she preferred having all the attention to 
herself.

There was no way that Chantal had the fake allure 
of the bar sluts twisting on the dance floor, but she 
had the figure to keep the guys at the table from 
wandering too far- and she knew it.  She'd hardly 
been sitting for a minute when a beer was set before 
her.  The donor, a sandy haired guy with somewhat 
of a baby face, made room for himself at her side.  
She had a vague suspicion that they had been 
introduced once, at the coffee shop, but she couldn't 
remember his name at all.

"Thanks," she tried to yell above the cacophony.

She saw his lips move, saying something, but 
whatever he said was drowned out by the endless 
beat.  Not wanting to appear rude, she gave him a 
sweet smile and a nod before taking a sip of her 
beer.

He took another sip from his own beer and set it on 
the table, glancing briefly over at the dance floor.  
Standing up, he held out his hand to her.

She was puzzled at first, but quickly understanding 
grew.  She was reluctant to leave her drink so soon, 
but the temptation to dance was to much to resist.  
She took his hand and they made their way to the 
dance floor.


As the techno throbbed and their collection of 
empties grew, Time seemed to move in strange new 
ways.  Chantal found herself being seduced by the 
lights around the dance floor, losing herself in the 
music.  From the outside, she was indiscernible 
from the rest of the twenty-somethings bobbing 
around the floor, but on the inside she felt free.  It 
was as though she could move in any way at all and 
the music would meet her there, carrying her 
through each track.

She discovered that the name of her dance-partner 
was Kev.  He hung around her most of the night but 
she didn't mind.  She even flirted with him a bit, 
dancing in close to his body before moving off to 
flirt with some other guy.

Sadly, the night ended as it always does, just a half 
hour earlier than it should have.  The lights had 
turned on and Chantal was scanning the crowd for 
signs of Dave.  It had been a while since she'd last 
seen him and she was beginning to worry that he 
might have already left the place without her.

The crowd thinned and she still couldn't find Dave.  
She tried to find Dave's friends, but she couldn't tell 
whether she recognized some people because they 
were Dave's friends, or because they'd been dancing 
near her all night.

Chantal had just about resigned herself to calling a 
cab when one of Dave's friends found her.

"Kev!"

"Hey Chantal, you look lost."

"I'm so glad to see you, I can't find Dave anywhere.  
Have you seen him?"

"I think he left about twenty minutes ago with some 
chick."

"Damn, he was my ride."

"Well, uh, I could drive you."

She was trying to remember if he'd been drinking 
much when a wicked plan crept up on her like the 
hiccups.

"You certainly could," she said more to herself, 
"Where are you parked?"


It seemed that Kev wasn't about to blow his big 
chance to score.  As they drove across the bridge, 
his hand drifted over to her knee.  She looked over 
at him.  His eyes were still on the road, but he wore 
a playful smile.

His hand grew bolder as they drove to her 
apartment.  Dancing at Motto's had gotten Chantal 
more than a little worked up, but with the evening 
ending so quickly, she felt unfulfilled.  It was 
amazing how easy it could be to substitute one kind 
of energy for another, she was thinking, as she 
began to warm up to Kev's hand.

He parked on her street and wasted no time leaning 
across the front seat to kiss her passionately.  She 
returned the kiss and was pleasantly surprised that 
his mouth wasn't particularly offensive, even after 
the beer.  After a bit their kiss broke and he got out 
of the car to come around to her side.

Chantal opened the door and stepped out into Kev's 
arms.  He pushed another kiss at her and ground his 
pelvis against hers.  Their difference in height 
caused her to wince as his bony hips dug into her 
soft belly.  He pulled his face away from her and 
she led the way up to her apartment wondering if 
she hadn't made a big mistake.


As she unlocked her door, Chantal could feel Kev's 
breath on the back of her neck.  She felt greasy, like 
she could use a shower.  Going straight from work 
to dancing, it was a wonder anyone could stand to 
be near her right now, with the way she must smell.  
Still, he planted a few small kisses on her neck that 
her shudder slightly.  They had tickled in a way that 
made her want to pull away quickly.

Once inside, Kev found her bedroom without any 
trouble, pulling her along with him by the hips.  He 
began kissing her, working his tongue between her 
teeth as he pushed her down to her back on the bed.  
After some more slightly painful grinding, he 
started working his mouth down her neck, opening 
her shirt as he went.  He slipped her bra off her 
breasts to fasten his lips around each nipple in turn.

Chantal tried to ignore the under wire of her bra 
cutting into her collarbone and just enjoy the 
slightly pleasant feeling of his tongue circling her 
areolas.  As his mouth worked on her chest, his 
hands worked on her pants, opening them and 
laboriously tugging them to her ankles.  He took a 
break to remove his own shirt and pants and, hoping 
he was now done with her breasts, pulled her bra 
back into place.

Kev resumed his licking and kissing just above her 
bellybutton and wrapped his hands around the backs 
of her thighs.  Slowly, he sank down until naught 
but a thin layer of cotton separated his nose from 
her clit.  He grabbed the waistband of her panties 
and drew them down with less trouble than her 
pants.

Ridiculous as it was, now that her cunt was 
exposed, she suddenly felt naked.  His tongue swept 
the length of her slit, just barely penetrating her lips.  
The sensation was not at all unpleasant, but she just 
couldn't get into it.  She stared up at her darkened 
ceiling and wondered how long this was going to 
take.  Oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm, he 
continued licking her, his lips rubbing too hard on 
her clit.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped to 
put on a condom.  Already her pussy lips were 
beginning to feel numb.  Without much fanfare, he 
climbed on top of her and slid the head of his cock 
up and down her cunt a few times, getting it wet 
with his own saliva.  Chantal wished she'd been 
able to contribute more of her own lubrication, but 
things just weren't happening for her down there.

Kev pushed his cock into her and began thrusting 
slowing.  After the initial wince of pain before the 
saliva was spread around, she actually began to 
enjoy it.  He was a nice size, and if nothing else, the 
warmth of his engorged cock helped get her cunt in 
the mood.  She held onto his shoulders as his body 
rocked hers and the memories of her encounter with 
Greg in this same bed assaulted her.

If only it had been Greg that was riding her now, 
with his tight abdomen, clean cock and sexy jaw 
line.  Her clit began to react as she continued her 
fantasy, imagining it was someone she cared about 
that was about to cum in her cunt.  A sort of mini-
orgasm gripped her briefly and she let out a quiet 
whimper.

It seemed the noise she made set Kev off, and just 
as she was coming down from her modest peak, he 
was picking up the pace.  Their bellies made ugly, 
wet smacking sounds as they collided and he began 
grunting in time with his thrusts.  As her fantasy 
slipped away, she felt a new sensation of dull pain 
in her thighs where his hips kept punching her.

She assumed he was done when he finally stopped 
pushing into her, and just lay atop her breathing 
heavily, meanwhile his weight was making it hard 
for her to breathe at all.  She hoped to any gods 
there might be that he wouldn't want to stay the 
night.  Eventually, he caught his breath and knelt 
up, pulling out of her.

"That was great," he said genuinely, stroking her 
hair.  She felt bad that he didn't even realize how 
much of a good time she hadn't had.  She couldn't 
bring herself to smile, but instead squeezed his hand 
gently.

"Look, I have to work early tomorrow, so I'd better 
go.  But maybe I can call you sometime?"

"Sure," she answered, hoping he'd forget.

She covered herself with a blanket as he dressed 
himself.  He finished up and leaned over, kissing 
her one last time.

"Good night, Chantal."

"'Night."


At last he was gone, and she could start the 
forgetting process; she felt like a slut for what she'd 
done.	To get her mind off the subject, she started 
mentally planning what she'd wear for the next few 
days.  

She had decided on her black velvet pants and 
rolled over to get more comfortable, but found a 
nasty surprise.  She pulled the cold, slimy condom 
out from underneath her and dropped it off the side 
of the bed, turning quickly to her pillow and 
choking back tears.


----------------------------------------------------------
comments, questions, adulation: valen_thyan@hotmail.com
other stories can be found at: /~valen
----------------------------------------------------------

A note to my readers:

'The Driver' was intended to provide the setting for a serial,
focusing on Chantal's development socially, philosophically and
sexually with the support of her mysterious friend.

However, unless I'm flooded by demands to continue the series
immediately, I'll be putting off the next episode for a while
to allow myself to focus on improving my writing skills through
some unrelated short stories.

I would like to thank everyone that has sent my email commenting
on my work, and I encourage anyone that has read any of it
to drop me a line to say hello, and visit my website at:

/~valen/

Hearing from readers is what keeps me writing, so I hope to hear
from you!  Thanks for reading!

Valen
valen_thyan@hotmail.com
/~valen/