High School Chauffeur Pt. 02

It's funny how you can go to school with someone, "never" see them, and then after a shared moment you seemingly see them everywhere. The next couple of weeks at school I felt like I ran into Taylor all the time: in the halls, in the office, in the parking lot, etc. I had absolutely no idea how to react around her...we had spent less than an hour together, and yet had shared something that was magical. She'd stopped hanging out with Josh-he didn't seem to care, and appeared to have no idea anything weird had happened-and so Taylor was just this strange interruption to my normal life that happened every so often. I think I was afraid that if I spoke to her, the spell would break and I would wake up from the dream...or worse, she'd laugh and say she was just messing with me, turning it into a nightmare. Therefore, our interactions since I gave her a ride home had been limited to a quick nod, a faint smile, or a half-assed wave. Apparently, it hadn't gone unnoticed.

On my way out to the car one Thursday, I felt something heavy crash into my backpack and clatter to the ground. I glanced down and saw a Dr Pepper bottle skitter and roll away, and thought "what the hell?" Looking for my...attacker?...I scanned the aisles until I saw Taylor crouched behind a neighboring Mustang, her eyes gleaming and that intoxicating smile dancing on the corners of her mouth.

"Hey dipshit...why are you ignoring me?" she yelled, slinking out from behind the car. The girl knew how to dress, that's for sure: denim shorts cut off at just the right length to accentuate her ass and legs, and a pale, yellow ribbed tank top that showed the outline of her bra to make her bust stand out and look incredible.

"I'm not ignoring you...I have no idea what to do around you," I replied, looking down at the pavement. "What exactly is the next step after..."

"After I got completely naked in your car 30 minutes after meeting you?" she finished my thought, although much more brazenly than I would have put it. Tact, it seems, is unnecessary with Taylor.

"Yes. That." I sighed.

She laughed. "Simple. You start talking to me, we spend time together, and we see what happens. It doesn't have to be rocket science. For example, I've got a theater formal coming up. Be my date. Pick me up, we'll have dinner, hang out, dance, and then see what happens."

That sounded...wonderful, actually. I hadn't been to any dances, for lack of courage to ask anyone. Now this beautiful creature was asking me to go with her to one? Definitely a dream. "I'm in. Tell me when and where."

"Next week, Friday night, pick me up at 7. I assume you can remember where I live...or do you not remember what the front of my house looks like?" she teased. I remembered...some of it. Mainly I remembered her glorious ass as she flashed me running up the drive. Fuzzy details would have to be enough. "Yeah, I got it," I muttered, getting into my car.

Our interactions at school got better...full smiles, verbal greetings, full-hearted waves. Still weird. Still out of my depth, but I had NO idea the extent to which that was true. Friday rolled around and I threw on the suit I owned, picked up some flowers, and made my way to Taylor's house. (Only took me three tries to get the right house.) She answered the door in a stunning strapless black mini-dress and three inch heels and jumped into my arms to give me a peck on the cheek, crushing the flowers and disheveling my appearance and hair. (I'm almost a foot taller than Taylor, so to get up to my head required some climbing.) Therefore, when her dad came around the corner, I was holding the trampled remains of a grocery store bouquet, my hair looked like I'd been asleep, and my suit jacket was half off of one shoulder. I also had lipstick on my cheek. Needless to say, I was met with a disapproving scowl. "Hi, I'm Jacob. Nice to meet you Mr. -"

Taylor cut in, "We leave. Now. Bye daddy!" and she yanked my arm towards the car. Her father watched me drive down the driveway, locking eyes with me in the rearview mirror, as I tried to steady my breathing and regain control. How did she have this effect on me?

Dinner, blessedly, was uneventful. We actually had a fair amount in common, knew many of the same people, and had somehow just never crossed paths. Arriving at the dance I actually felt...confident? Is that what that feels like? We found a table and set our stuff down, and then she broke me out of my revelry and smug confidence with two simple words: "Let's dance."

I am NOT coordinated. I'm a decently good athlete, but in a brute force kind of way; football and playing post in basketball are great, baseball and golf not so much. Dancing just isn't a talent I possess, and these are all theater people-they're artsy, many of them have taken dance classes, and they're all musically talented. This was not going to be good. Sure enough, after a few failed attempts to dance, we settled on a routine: I'd essentially pull the crap from "Hitch" during the fast songs, and we'd hold each other and sway during the slow songs. This wasn't a bad deal for me, but I could tell Taylor was a bit bummed she couldn't cut loose. Towards the end, I offered her the chance to dance with some other people and I'd just hang out at the table, but she got that mischievous look in her eye and said "Nope. I've got a better idea. Stand there."

She then proceeded to "dance with me," which could accurately be described as she used me as a pole and pole danced. Her body, which I had been pressed up against repeatedly during the slow dances, was now rubbing and grinding against me. Her legs, which I had admired in her dress, snaked around my legs, gliding sensuously up and down. Her breasts pressed into my chest and back. And her ass...how we didn't get kicked out, I have no clue. I had a raging hard on, had lost the ability to speak, and was in danger of toppling over from a strange combination of excitement and a complete lack of blood in my big head. The little one was being greedy.

When the song ended, my vision finally snapped back into place, and I noticed everyone staring at us and either cheering or applauding. Taylor was frenzied with lust, and grabbed my shirt to pull me in for our first real kiss (we were doing this dating thing completely backwards). Our tongues danced, and she broke free to whisper "Take me home. I have a party favor for you." She didn't have to ask twice, as I walked (painfully) to get our things and followed her swaying ass out to my car.

The drive home was uneventful. She thanked me for a nice night, asked if I had fun, filled me in on some drama with her theater friends (side note: theater students are, by far, the randiest and kinkiest group of students on any campus), and we made pleasant small talk. Upon arriving to her house, the circumstances could not have been any different from the last time I dropped her off. I felt...normal? Disappointed?

I got out of the car, went over to open her door, and took her hand, helping her swing those lovely legs out of the car. Upon closing the door, I was ambushed; I turned around and Taylor was all over me, just like when I got to her house earlier only without the flowers, or apparently, the reserve. She slammed her lips onto mine, probing with her tongue, as her hands roamed my torso to unbutton my shirt. After one of the sloppiest, most passionate kisses of my life, she pulled back and said "Time for the party favor."

When I was younger, you used to get these party favor bags at birthday parties. They'd be filled with stickers, cheap candy, and even cheaper toys. One of the weirdest was when you'd get a Chinese finger trap, those things there you'd get each hand stuck and no matter how hard you pulled, you couldn't break free without destroying the thing. I hadn't really thought of one in probably a decade until Taylor took my left pointer finger and started sucking on it, slowly. She paused and said "Want to guess which end is wetter?"

I used my right hand to guide up her thighs to find a surprise waiting for me. Under that strapless black mini dress, Taylor wasn't wearing any panties. All night, as she was grinding on me and dancing on me, she was flashing her classmates. No wonder they applauded at the end! I quickly found a very wet, very warm, and very smooth slit that I teased back and forth, as slowly as she was sucking on my finger. She finally bit down, and that was my cue-I entered her with two fingers, and had both hands in the wet, warm openings of this gorgeous high school senior. It was like a Chinese finger trap, only I was going to cum in my pants if we didn't do something soon.

After getting her revved up, she showed me the other part of her surprise-she pulled her dress down to show she wasn't wearing a bra. Why would she, with tits like that? So in front of her house (where, just a few hours earlier her father had apparently correctly labeled me as a troublemaker), she had her heels, her dress around her waist like a belt, and was completely naked otherwise.

I ran my hands over her breasts, pausing to pinch and twist her hard nipples. Her moans signaled I was on the right path, so I kept fingering her pussy and lowered my mouth to her right nipple, biting it gently as I twisted the left. She shuddered and gasped, the orgasm rolling through her like thunder.

After regaining her composure, she pushed me against my car and frantically went after my belt. I had the presence of mind to say "Wait...parents..." and she told me to shut the fuck up. I didn't say much more the rest of the night, because I'm not an idiot. As my cock finally sprung free, she engulfed it in her perfect little mouth, bobbing up and down ferociously. With her free hand, she began to replace what she had lost when my hands were too far away from her pussy, rubbing and pumping herself, the sounds of wetness matched by the slurping on my cock.

It didn't take long. As I said, I wasn't popular with the ladies, so no matter how much stamina I thought I had built up, I was no match for this experience. My knees eventually buckled and I cried out, which in turn caused her to cry out, muffled as it was, and we came together.

I slumped to the ground, resting against my car with my pants around my ankles, my jacket god-knows-where, and my shirt mostly unbuttoned save my neck and a mangled tie. Taylor joined me, still wearing the heels, still wearing the dress/belt, with bits of pavement embedded in her knees. We were exhausted, covered in sweat and each others' juices, but very content. We sat there, my arm around her, rolling her nipple back and forth and giving her gentle kisses on the head, completely in bliss. It had been a hell of a night, and I thought, the beginning of something wonderful.

Then the fucking porch light came on.
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High School Chauffeur Pt. 02

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