Cabbie, Part 3

by Joanne

I stood, still holding the framed photograph of Jennifer’s mother. I was shocked. The image was so like me. I would have had trouble denying her as my sister, but she wasn’t. She was no relation at all, unless perhaps, if you went back to the Saxons or Roman times. We must have the same gene pool that much was certain.

Jennifer was smiling, “Sit down,” she said. I sat down still holding the picture, “It must have been like seeing a ghost, seeing me in the cab like that,” I said. She took the picture from my hand and exchanged it for another one. “It would have been like a ghost except my mother is not dead.” I looked at the new picture. It showed Jennifer with a younger half Chinese girl and a well built, strong looking, mixed race, man of about twenty five.

“That is my brother and sister,” she said. “My mother is in prison. As you can see, she has had a variety of lovers.” “Prison!” I repeated stupidly. She laughed a wonderfully innocent laugh that belied her experience and her profession. “My mother got greedy,” she said. “She taught us all she knew and we were doing very well, but she just got greedy.”

She took the picture off me and handed me a drink. I sniffed at it, it was whisky. She had poured herself one too. She had done that while I was staring stupidly and the photograph. “You are young for that,” I said. She laughed her lovely laugh again. “You are priceless,” she said. “I always have booze around, it calms the putters.” “Am I a putter?” I asked. “Why can you afford me?” she said with a rye smile.

She could see my curiosity. She sat back in the chair and relaxed holding the drink in both hands and resting it on her chest. The house coat had fallen open showing her naked body almost to the waist. She told me her history. Her mother had got pregnant by a black boy at her school. When the child was born her parents insisted that she put the baby up for adoption. Her mother would have none of it and ran away taking Jonathan with her. She soon realised that she had her fortune between her legs, and used it to survive.

“Life was hard for many years, earning money the only way she knew how. Bringing up Jonathan, then there was me and then Lucy, my sister. Times had got better recently when I could take some trade and then Lucy could do her share. We always looked young for our age. I am sixteen but can get away with thirteen. Lucy is thirteen but doesn’t look a day over ten. Jonathan is big enough and ugly enough to look after us. If my mother hadn’t got the idea of blackmailing we would still be together, a complete family and you could have met her.” Dawn had long since cast its light over the city. From up here, in the penthouse, the crowds hurrying off to work looked like little worker ants running along, all in line astern. She saw me looking and getting to her feet she waved me to follow. She opened the French windows. She dropped the house coat to the floor and walked out onto the balcony naked. The sun striking her body was the most wonderful sight I had seen. “No one ever looks up,” she said spreading her arms and turning around as if to show the world all her glory. “Join me,” she said. As I approached, “No,” she said, “I mean naked.”

I am fifty, the last time I was even close to naked in public was years ago. I shook my head. She wasn't taking no for an answer. She turned slowly around allowing the sun to draw its pictures of light and shadow over her lovely body. Her pert, round breast, their nipples reacting to the morning breeze playing across them. The triangle of bushy dark pubic hair that I had cuddled and tasted what seem hours ago. “Naked or nothing,” she teased.

My lust eventually overcame my shame and I slowly stripped off down to my bra and panties. My stomach hung loose and the cellulite emphasized the fat of my thighs. “All the way,” she said, running her tempting fingers over her pussy and licking them. I dropped my bra allowing my tits to sag and my huge nipples stared at the ground like sad eyes. I peeled off my very wet panties, the mass of grey hair, damp with my juices glistened in the morning light..

She smiled and held out her hands invitingly, “Fuck me,” she said. She lay on the lounger and spread her legs. I straggled her face and leaned forward. I kissed her pussy just as she kissed mine. The distant noise of traffic played in my ears and the morning air played on my skin as she took me up to heaven where I screamed my orgasm at the top of my voice to a deaf world. “You have no idea how much I have missed my mum,” she said.

It was very late when I got back to the yard. The boss was so nice I felt sick. When I handed him his bag of money I swear he had a hard on. He marched off to his office to count his money, shouting at the old guy that cleaned and fuelled the cabs. I drove home in my little car and counted the money in my bum bag on the kitchen table before going off to bed, to dream of wonderful things.

For the next week I went to work as usual. I ferried the girls. I voyeurised and I lusted after them, I fondled them and I even fucked one or two of them. All the time, at every moment, Jennifer was on my mind. I was in love with a girl that I could never afford.

I was on the rank. I had delivered the night workers home to their families. My night had slowed right down. There was only the stragglers left. These are usually men and usually very drunk. No trade for me. My doors stayed locked against them. My phone rang. It was Jennifer. She sent me to the back door of a famous hotel and she told me to wait.

I waited with the cab locked down. Finally the back door of the hotel opened and the light within lit up the back ally. A black man came out and looked both ways. He gave me the thumbs up sign. I recognised him from the photograph. It was Jonathan, Jennifer's brother. Moments later he reappeared with a little girl. She had a long coat wrapped around her shoulders. I flicked the central lock switch and she climbed into the back of the cab. The light came on with the door and I saw clearly the face of a little Chinese girl. A small voice said, “My god you are like my mummy, I didn't believe Jennifer.”

“Take me home to the tower,” she said, “Jennifer has told me how you like to be paid.” An electric tingle ran through my stomach and out of my pussy wetting my skirt and running onto the drivers seat. I was not wearing panties. I had taken to carrying a supply of clean panties in the glove box, but this night, I had run out. Jennifer's balcony act had soiled the last of them.

The journey to the tower was a mini version of an early journey. Mini only in size not in intensity. Here, there were beautiful, almond shaped, dark, mysterious, oriental eyes, burning into my rear view mirror. I knew that I was crying, tears wetting my face, I knew my face was shiny and red. I thought I would die of lust. I thought I would explode. The long coat had fallen and lay around her. She looked like a geisha on cushions, a sexual gift for her lord and master. The dress, Oh the dress, was of deep, rich red silk. It was skin tight choking her neck leaving her shoulders and arms naked. It was tight fitting around her almost flat chest. It hugged her torso and hips. It was slit from the left hip to the hem. Sat as she was, her lovely, smooth left leg was naked.

I don,t remember the drive to the tower, only the expectant silence as the engine stopped. I opened the back door. She lay back with her arms outstretched towards me. Her legs spread wide. The slit of her skirt fell open exposing her naked and totally smooth pussy. “Mummy,” she pleaded. The feeling that ran all through me defies description. I was lost to the animal within.

When it was over. When the cabbie was paid in full. She rose up and gathered up her dress, the only thing she had been wearing beneath the coat. She put the coat around her shoulders and with exceptional dignity walked up to and into the front door of the tower. I hurriedly pulled on my clothes and followed her, but unlike the earlier occasion, this time the door did not give to my touch. I was securely locked out. I was the servant, paid and dismissed.