The Chauffeur
“Courtney?” I said to the limo driver. “Are you sure you know the right way to Club Frantique?” I drummed my fingers impatiently – perhaps a bit too impatiently – on the armrest of the limo. “I think we were supposed to make a left back there, maybe two blocks ago or so.”
“We were?” Courtney glanced back in my direction, trying to look past me and through the rear windshield of the car … the one made out of dark tinted glass, the one she especially couldn’t see through at night. “Oops. Sorry, Mr. Maybourne … my bad?” She gave me an apologetic smile and a shrug, and then turned her attention back to the road – where it should’ve been in the first place – gazing in confusion at the passing street signs while we rolled through the city.
I didn’t mind. To be honest, over the past couple of weeks, I’d come to expect it. My driver Courtney was a sweet sexy thing, all of eighteen years old, new to the world of driving limousines … and probably cars in general, for that matter. I can’t tell you how many traffic lights we ran by accident when she was behind the wheel, or how many curbs we ran over, or how many other minor disasters happened while she was driving.
Courtney had the face of an angel and a slim, dynamite body that was just begging for sin. Her curly chestnut hair was cut in this short, cute little piecey bob cut, which was mostly hidden under her black leather chauffeur’s cap while she drove. But trust me, it was still damn sexy. Her breasts were kind of on the small side, like ripe, juicy peaches. But they were still perky and firm, and when they softly bounced around under that black driving jacket and white blouse of hers, they looked all sorts of perfectly luscious. Just looking at Courtney was easy on the eyes. She was such a petite knockout, with that pale, delicate, porcelain skin of hers, and with just enough curves in all the right places on her lithe, lean body … so the fact that she wasn’t all that great of a driver?
Not all that big of a deal. Not in my book, anyway.
Lounging back in my seat, I pressed a button, and the window next to me slid wide open. The bright, energetic lights of the city spilled in, as did a blast of the cool night air. It was an absolutely beautiful night, the kind that just made you glad to be alive. We rolled to a stop at a red light, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and savoring the majesty of the moment.
When I opened my eyes … well, it turned out that the night had gotten even more beautiful. I looked to my left and saw that a cherry-red convertible Lamborghini had pulled up next to us. A stunning, statuesque blonde goddess sat behind the wheel of the Lamborghini, dressed to kill in a slinky black cocktail dress. She wore cherry-red lipstick that matched her ride perfectly … and when she turned to check me out, she gave me an admiring stare, looking me slowly up and down. With a smile, she gave me a casual, flirty wink, and then blew me a kiss with those ravishing red lips of hers.
I winked right back at her. Drop-dead gorgeous woman, checking me out … shit, what wouldn’t there be to like about that? After all, the woman was getting herself an eyeful of one hell of a handsome, athletic black gentleman … complete with a fresh fade, high and tight, a devilishly debonair goatee, and a dazzlingly white smile. Oh, and I did I mention the gentleman – yes, that’d be me – was wearing nothing less than a fourteen thousand dollar custom suit – charcoal gray and perfectly tailored, with diamond cufflinks and a matching tie pin? And he was riding in style, in one of the finest stretch limousines that money could buy?
Apparently, though, whatever the ravishing blonde in the Lamborghini saw – well, she was only window shopping, I guess. With a saucy grin, the woman licked her lips suggestively at me … and then, the light turned green, and with a squeal of burning rubber, she shot off into the night, disappearing from sight before I could even blink my eyes.
Ah, well.
Some dreams just weren’t meant to come true. Which was probably a good thing.
Other dreams, though … oh boy, did they come true.
That, I knew for sure.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Courtney exclaimed happily. I thought I heard a gleeful hint of triumph in her voice. “I think I know where I am … yeah! Oh, I am so good! Club Frantique should just be just a few blocks away!”
“Really?” I asked her. “Are you sure?”
I snapped my fingers.
“Well … um, I think so, Mr. Maybourne,” Courtney said, a bit more doubtful. “I mean, I’m pretty sure, anyway … if I can just turn around up here, then make a left back onto Central Avenue … it should be pretty close … right?” She glanced back at me again, biting her lip in sudden uncertainty.
“We’re lost,” I repeated, as I stared hard into those deep, beautiful blue eyes of hers. “Aren’t we, Courtney?” Although I meant that more as a statement, rather than a question.
Then I snapped my fingers. Twice.
A puzzled, dazed expression crossed Courtney’s cute face. She frowned for a moment … then shook her head vigorously as she completely agreed with me. “Oh, absolutely,” she said. “Totally. Completely lost, um … not sure where this Frantique place is. No clue. Sorry.”
I let out a weary sigh. “Oh, that’s very disappointing,” I said to Courtney. “I guess we won’t make it in time. Again. I guess we’ve got no choice but to take the car back to the garage. That, and I suppose I’ve got to go over some city maps with you again. Maybe one of these nights, you’ll pay attention and we won’t get lost …”
“Again with the maps?” Courtney asked. I couldn’t tell from her tone whether she was disappointed or excited, or maybe a bit of both. It didn’t really matter. I snapped my fingers, and Courtney turned her full attention back to the streets of the city, suddenly driving with great care and precision.
I lounged back in my seat, smiling as we rolled on by the bright neon sign for Club Frantique, heading instead for the outskirts of the city, Courtney wheeling expertly through the snarls of traffic. She could drive like a pro when she put her mind to it … or, to be more precise, when I put her mind to it. But that usually wasn’t much fun. Much more entertaining to watch her struggle a little behind the wheel. Okay, it was a little more dangerous that way too … but hey, what can I say? I liked living a little dangerously.
We left the busy downtown streets of the city, heading instead down by the docks, down where things were much quieter. I checked my Rolex. Damn. Just a bit past eleven … later than I’d expected, and a bit later than I wanted. Some of the stuff I’d had in mind for the evening’s festivities would have to wait for another time. I knew I’d have to cut to the chase and get to the meat of things, so to speak. A snap of the fingers, after all, only went so far.
Courtney drove the limo down a dead end street. All the buildings were closed, save for a garage at the end of the block with its lights still on. As we made our way to the end of the block, Courtney flashed the highbeams of the limo twice right at the garage … and one of its doors slowly creaked open. Courtney beeped the horn twice, and as the door finished opening, she smoothly drove us right on inside.
Though it was late, there were nearly a dozen guys or so stilling milling about inside the garage. Some of them were still wearing their grease-stained work overalls, while others had changed into more casual clothes … none of them looked like they were working, though. Some were watching a ball game on a crappy old television, others were playing cards, and a few were munching on burgers from the fast food place a few blocks away. All of them, though, completely stopped what they were doing when the limo rolled to a stop in one of the garage bays, putting away the cards and food as they saw us arrive. And when I got out of the limo, a few of them began to clap and cheer, their applause echoing throughout the otherwise quiet garage.
“Thought you were never gonna get here,” an older guy called to me with a laugh. He stubbed out a cigarette in an empty soda can, and wisps of smoke twirled up to the ceiling. “Starting to think we should’ve gone to a strip club instead!”
“Oh, c’mon,” I replied. “You know good things come to those who wait, right?”
“Ain’t that the truth,” one of his buddies said with a sly grin. “Especially this!” The two laughed, exchanging high-fives with each other and some of their other buddies.
I didn’t pay too much attention to the cheers and laughter, though. Instead, I watched as Courtney stepped out of the limo. From the waist up, she was dressed like a proper, respectable chauffeur – black jacket, white cotton shirt, black leather driving gloves and a thin black tie, and a nice black driving cap to top it all off. From the waist down, though … she wore just a pair of black thigh-high stockings and shiny black stiletto heels. No pants, no panties. The pale, creamy flesh of her thighs and bare bottom looked absolutely stunning in contrast to the stockings … and, to my surprise, I noticed she’d done a little maintenance work on her nether regions since last I’d seen her. Instead of her usual thatch of short, curly hair between those slim thighs of hers, the flesh surrounding Courtney’s tender pussy was complete smooth and bare, save for a neatly-trimmed landing strip of pubic hair that traveled up her mons … and then disappeared up under her white shirttails.
I grinned in admiration. Even I hadn’t expected that. It was nice to know even I could still be pleasantly surprised, every so often.
Taking Courtney by the hand, I led her out in front of the limo. With her standing between me and the car, I slowly took off my trousers, stepping out of them with great care. You don’t just casually yank a pair of custom made pants worth a couple of grand down around your ankles, after all. Same went for my shirt, my vest, and my jacket – I took my time removing them, even going so far as to lightly fold them and place them up on the roof of the limo.
Courtney watched wide-eyed – as she usually did – as I undressed in front of her. I wasn’t quite sure why … okay, part of it was admiration, which was pretty damn flattering, but I think it was also because she mostly couldn’t believe I’d strip naked in front of a bunch of other guys. And I guess that part of it never ceased to surprise me. I mean, why wouldn’t I do that? I certainly had nothing to be ashamed about. I went to the gym every day, I was in phenomenal shape … and let’s just say that when it came to my equipment, I packed a lot of heat. Women – and men – who’d heard all those stereotypes about how all black guys were well-hung … well, I didn’t disappoint them. At all.
“Your turn now,” I murmured to Courtney. She let out a little squeal of surprise as I picked her up by her slender waist. Carrying her to the front of the limo, I plopped her down onto it, so those curvy asscheeks of hers rested right on the edge of the hood. “Let’s get you undressed.”
“I … I don’t know,” Courtney said nervously. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder at the group of guys who were watching us … okay, at that point, they were really watching her. Some of them lounged lazily on the boxes and chairs just a couple of steps away from the limo, and from us. A few of them grinned wickedly and waved at her. One guy, a skinny, scruffy older dude dressed in grease-stained overalls, even blew her a kiss and laughed. She quickly turned back to me, a slight hint of panic in her eyes. “I don’t think … I mean, are they going to be watching us?”
Again, I snapped my fingers twice. Snap, snap.
“Are they going to be watching us?” Courtney repeated excitedly. A naughty grin spread across her eager face. Frantically, her small fingers started fumbling with the buttons of her blouse, as she impatiently started to rip off all her clothes. “Wow … ohmigod, fuck yes. That’s so hot …”
“Yes, indeed it is,” I agreed, as I helped Courtney remove her jacket. I tossed it carelessly off to the side of the limo, next to a large, grimy air compressor and a pile of tires. Courtney’s shirt followed the jacket shortly, as did her driving gloves. She wore a white lace open cup bra beneath the shirt, which pushed up and proudly displayed those perky breasts of hers … I reached behind her, though, and undid the clasp, letting it fall to the ground. Sexy as her bra was, it was easier playing with her tits without it. She still wore her driver’s cap, though – and her skinny black tie, which still hung playfully loose around that pale, slender neck of hers.
“You can take the cap off. Leave the tie on, though,” I said quietly to Courtney. “Trust me. It’s so much hotter that way.” Courtney nodded. With an excited giggle, she took off her cap, carelessly tossing it up in the air. It landed on the roof of the limo with a dull thud. She giggled louder, getting even more aroused … and as she did so, I grabbed her by the tie, pulling her face up towards mine so I could kiss her. Hungrily, she kissed me right back, sliding her tongue eagerly into my mouth. As we tasted each other, I slipped one hand down between her legs, my fingers lightly tracing along her slit. Already, she was nice and sinfully wet.
“You don’t know how bad I want this,” Courtney murmured, as she finally broke off our kiss. She lay back on the hood of the limo, spreading her slender legs apart and lifting them high in the air, pointing the toes of her high heels at the ceiling of the garage. Her pussy glistened with desire. “I can’t wait for you to fuck me.”
“Like I told the guys over there,” I replied, “Good things come to those who wait.” With a slight smirk, I glanced over at the guys sitting near us, all of them watching our every move with rapt attention. “Why don’t you play with yourself a little first? Put on a little show for them.” My rock-hard cock was impatiently standing at attention and ready to fuck, but as much as I wanted Courtney and the tasty honeypot between those legs of hers, I liked the idea of her playing with herself first even more.
Apparently, Courtney liked the idea, too. A lot. “Okay,” she said dreamily. I took a step back from between Courtney’s slim, spread-open legs, holding one of her ankles up high, giving our eager spectators a spectacular view of her delectable cunt. With one excited, trembling hand, she reached up and grabbed her other ankle … and she slid her other hand between her legs, parting the lips of her nether regions with her fingers. Her small tits bounced joyfully up and down as she lewdly revealed her damp, pink hole to the guys … and then began shamelessly finger-fucking herself, dipping her middle finger into her hot depths with slow, earnest strokes.
“Yeah, girl … that looks all sorts of scrumptious,” I said admiringly to Courtney, as she brazenly played with herself. If we had more time, I wouldn’t have minded going down on her, lapping at those juicy folds and tasting some of that fabulous nectar of hers. We didn’t, though, so I contented myself instead with listening to the gloriously filthy sounds of her squishing fingers as she pleasured her sloppy cunt, and the soft, breathy whimpers and sighs she made while her fingers worked their magic. The horny little bitch began rubbing at her clit with her thumb while three fingers dove ever deeper into her pussy, and in no time her pussy, her ass, and her thighs … they were are absolutely drenched with her desire as she squirmed and writhed on the hood of the limo.
“My, my,” I murmured, as I watched Courtney having fun with herself, “that feels good, huh, angel?” I’d started stroking my cock as I looked down at my dirty sexpot driver. Fun as watching her was, even I knew that I couldn’t resist much longer.
“Mmm-hmm,” Courtney whispered. She pulled her sticky fingers out of her cunt for a moment, and held her hand up high in the air, so all the guys in the garage could see it … and then she stuck her hand in her mouth, noisily sucking on it. She giggled as some of the guys cheered loudly in approval. “Feels fucking great, actually.”
“Good to know,” I said with a laugh. I reached over and fondled one of Courtney’s perfect, creamy tits with my hand, pinching the nipple hard between my fingers. Courtney let out a soft moan, her hips wiggling about happily on the limo hood as her fingers returned to her pussy. “A naughty girl like you should always feel good.”
“Tell you what feels even better, though,” Courtney breathed raggedly, “and … mmm … makes me feel even naughtier, too … that big thick chocolate rod of yours, deep inside me …” She lifted her head slightly, licking her lips lewdly as she shamelessly stared right at my cock … and then up into my eyes. “Please, put it in me …”
“Well,” I replied matter-of-factly, “I suppose we can arrange that.”
Still holding her ankle high in the air, I gave one of her lean, stocking-clad calves a slowing, loving lick. I grabbed her other ankle, and stepped directly between her parted legs. I put her feet up so they rested on my shoulders, and then I put my hard dick right on top of her slick cunt.
Courtney pulled her sopping fingers out of her steaming snatch again, and with a lewd grin, she started jerking on my cock instead. I grinned back at her as I pulled her closer to me, and especially as she guided my cock to the entrance of her sex. I let out a loud, long groan of sinful pleasure as I parted the wet, slippery folds of Courtney’s slit with the tip of my manhood … and then, I sank myself deep inside her. Nothing felt better than sinking my cock into some tight, white pussy. Especially Courtney’s tight, white pussy. The walls of her velvety cunt wrapped snugly around my length … every time I plunged in and out of her, the feeling was just utterly exquisite.
“Look at that bitch go!” I heard a voice cackle admiringly behind me. “Goddamn, that little slut loves the dark meat!” There was some laughter, and the sounds of hands slapping together in high-fives, and some slightly envious but good-natured mutterings – lucky son of a bitch, I’d love to fuck her, shit like that – but I didn’t pay any particular attention to it. Courtney, though … she paid attention to every single word and laugh … and sweet mercy, did that randy minx get off on it. Every time a whisper like nasty whore or what a cock-loving cum dumpster made its way to her ears, the depraved grin on her pretty face only grew wider … and her hips ground even harder against mine, as she frantically tried working even more of my thrusting cock inside that marvelously tight pussy of hers.
“So,” I panted, as I fucked Courtney slow and deep, “feel as good as you thought?” I smacked her asscheeks hard with the palm of my hand, loving it as she let out a filthy moan of delight. Smiling, I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand – the bright lights hanging from the ceiling above made the garage a hot place indeed. As I kept reaming her tight cunt, I ran my fingers across the contours of her smooth, flat abs, and she shivered in ecstasy. “Because I got to tell you, I don’t think I’ve fucked a pussy finer than yours …”
“Ohhh … so good,” Courtney growled hungrily. “Harder, though. Harder … harder!!!” She sat up on the hood of the limo, grabbing my hips as she sat up on the hood, pressing her breasts urgently against my chest, wailing in wanton joy. “I’m so close, baby … fuck me like the dirty whore that I am …”
With a bestial grunt, I roughly grabbed Courtney by her slender waist, spinning and flipping her around on the limo hood, planting her down on it so her high heels were firmly planted on the concrete floor of the garage … and her yummy little titties were squashed against the hood. Shoving her legs further apart with a sweep of my foot, I rammed myself into her doggystyle, spreading her pale asscheeks further apart with my hands. There was just something sinfully good about watching my dark, thick dick plundering that amazing tight cunt of hers, my shaft glistening wetly with her juices as I drove myself deeper and deeper inside her. I didn’t hold back any longer, and I just happily rammed myself into her snatch with wild abandon, fucking her with an animal lust … and she enthusiastically fucked me back the same way, grinding her ass back lustfully against my hips, her arms sprawled out across the hood of the limo. I could see Courtney’s beaming reflection in the tinted windshield of the limo, the blissfully depraved grin spread across her cute, sexy face as I fucked her rotten.
The garage had grown nearly quiet, save for the sounds of our wetly slapping flesh and Courtney’s decadent little grunts and squeals as we savagely fucked. Suddenly, Courtney let out a wild, uninhibited scream, and I could feel her body start to buck and shake beneath me … and the wet walls of her fantastic pussy clench my pistoning cock even more tightly. I felt her begin to gush her sweet, sweet juices all over my cock as she started to orgasm.
“YES!!! OH, FUCK, YES!!!” Courtney cried out as her body shook in ecstasy. I could see grateful tears of joy running down her pale, pretty cheeks in her reflection in the windshield. “Holy shit … so good, so good, so good … YES!!!” Her lean, lithe body bucked harder as she came again.
Well, the wonderfully wicked sensation of Courtney cumming hard all over my pistoning shaft was just too much for me to take. Shit, it’d probably be too much for any man. Much as I was enjoying every single second of fucking Courtney’s succulent snatch, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. With a long, loud groan, I grabbed her hips tightly. I thrust my cock deep and hard into Courtney’s delicious pussy … and I unloaded a torrent of hot, thick cum inside her, relentlessly flooding her tight, pink hole with spurt after spurt of my semen. Courtney mewled with wanton glee as I pumped her cunt full of jizz, and then she began to writhe against the hood of the limo, cumming again hard herself, her naughty juices and mine beginning to pool together on the front of the car.
As I pulled myself out of Courtney and stepped away from my sweaty little sex kitten, she looked over her shoulder at the guys who’d been intently watching us. Giving them a quick, naughty smirk, she slapped her ass with the palm of her hand, and then gave that ass a mighty sexy shake. Courtney opened her stance as she still lay across the hood of the limo, spreading her ankles wider apart, giving the guys an even better view of that luscious, dynamite rump of hers … and of her freshly-fucked pussy, which dripped messily with my cum.
Our enthusiastic audience erupted with wild, raucous applause. A standing ovation. Bravo.
I gave the guys watching us a knowing, appreciative nod and a quick thumbs-up … and then, I helped Courtney stand up, pulling her sweaty, panting body off the hood of the limo. A blissful, dreamy grin was plastered on that gorgeous face of hers, and her petite, sex-ravaged body still trembled a little with utter delight. I picked up the pieces of her dirty driver’s uniform – making sure to pull the keys to the limo out of her jacket first – and shoved them into her shaking hands. After that, I carefully tucked my own neatly folded clothes under one arm … and then I led Courtney to the back end of the limo, and popped the trunk open.
Two suitcases, a gym bag and a garment bag sat in the trunk. I carefully put my clothes in one of the suitcases, which was empty, and then put Courtney’s uniform in the gym bag, which was also empty. I unzipped the garment bag, and gently removed a white satin bra, and a long sleeved, pink-sequined club dress with a ridiculously short hemline.
“Put your real clothes back on,” I said softly to Courtney. I tenderly ran my finger down the side of her cheek … and then I snapped my fingers. Obediently, Courtney did as I instructed. Meanwhile, I opened the last suitcase and took out my own driver’s uniform. As I finished getting dressed, I plucked the cap that Courtney had tossed off the roof of the limo, and readjusted its headband, pulling it onto my own head when I’d gotten the fit just right.
I looked over at Courtney. She stood at the side of the limo, looking absolutely radiant in her slinky, shiny pink dress … and slightly confused as well. Her deep blue eyes appeared dull and blank. Courtney gave me a vacant, polite smile, as if noticing me for the first time. A slightly baffled expression crossed her face as she started to look wonderingly around the garage.
“Where are …”
“I know,” I said to Courtney. I opened the passenger door of the limo for her, and gestured towards it. “It’s confusing. But take a seat. I’ll explain.”
Snap, snap.
Courtney dutifully got inside the car, and sat down. I leaned slightly through the open doorway, and began explaining things to her. Explanations were always easy.
“So, Courtney,” I said, “Your father asked that I take you to your friend Becky’s house for a little get-together – after all, that’s where you told him you were going. Instead, I took you to Club Frantique, just like you asked me to the moment we left the house. When we got to the club, I slipped the doorman a little extra cash, so he didn’t check your ID, and you didn’t have to wait on line. Once you got inside, you had the most amazing evening … dancing, partying and having just a fabulous time. You remember that, right?”
Snap, snap.
Courtney nodded obediently. “Of course,” she said sleepily. “Best time ever. Duh.”
“You spent most of the cash that your Daddy gave you – the cash you’re about to give to me – on some bottles of Cristal,” I said to Courtney. “You bought the champagne for a bunch of really nice people that you met at the club. You had a great time with them – absolutely amazing, just so much fun – but you forgot to get most of their numbers, you got too drunk to remember their names … and your stupid phone of yours lost all the texts and numbers that you did get.”
Snap, snap.
Courtney nodded obediently. “Of course,” she said happily. Absently, she reached into her pricey designer handbag and took out an obscene amount of cash. She handed the cash over to me, swaying slightly as she put the bills in my hand. I slipped the money in my pocket. It was more than I usually made in two or three weeks of steady driving.
“And that champagne you bought, Courtney? Well, you ordered it at the bar, from the bartender … who happened to be a hot guy. Really hot.” I couldn’t help but smirk while I said that. “You chatted with him for a little bit, and you were feeling kind of horny, so you let him take you to the men’s room and fuck you in a toilet stall. You were pretty drunk, so you don’t remember much about it, apart from the sex was fantastic … and you might’ve even let him raw dog you without a condom. You don’t think you’d be that careless, of course, but you’re not entirely sure about that.”
Snap, snap.
“Mmm,” Courtney said. Her gorgeous sapphire eyes looked kind of sleepy, and a wide, contented smile crossed her pretty face. She put a wobbly finger to her lips. “I think … I think I might be a little drunk,” she said, in a hushed, confidential tone. Giggling, she wobbled around on her expensive high heels, leaning slightly on the side of the limo. She hadn’t had a drop to drink all night … but she suddenly looked like she was slightly tipsy. The power of the mind was truly a marvel to behold.
“I know,” I said to Courtney. “Trust me, it’ll be all right.” Gently, I helped her into the back seat of the limo. She sat there for a long moment, sitting bolt-upright, like a robot, resting her clasped hands formally on top of her knees. She absently dropped her handbag onto the floor.
Snap, snap, snap.
Courtney jumped in her seat, as though startled. She looked wildly around the limo, a frazzled look on her face. “What … the fuck … what’s this shit?” Courtney snapped. She glared angrily at me. “Where the fuck are we, Darrell? Of all the stupid–”
“Relax, Miss Ravanche,” I said pleasantly. “We stopped for gas, that’s all. Just wanted to check up on you – looked like you fell asleep back there.”
“Well, I didn’t,” Courtney replied sullenly. She folded her thin arms over that pretty little chest of hers. “And, um, I knew we stopped for gas. Didn’t have to tell me that. So obvious …” She glanced uncertainly out of the passenger door, then nodded. “Can we fucking go already?”
“Sure can, Miss Ravanche,” I said to her. “Not a problem.”
I climbed behind the wheel of the limo and headed out of the garage, giving some of the guys still remaining a friendly wave and a smile as we left. A few of them were climbing in their cars and pickup trucks, finally heading home after the little show they’d been given. I heard an admiring honk of a horn as I drove the limo back up the street and back towards the city, and I beeped back in acknowledgment. The guys at the garage were a great bunch … and they always appreciated a good show.
I smiled as I turned up Central, heading past Club Frantique again. Some nights were very, very good, and this had been one of them. Some were even like a dream.
I glanced back over my shoulder. Speaking of dreams …
“Ow, my head,” I heard Courtney mutter thickly to herself. “Fucking champagne …” She rolled around a bit unsteadily in the backseat of the limo, leaning unsteadily forward as she reached for her expensive handbag. She looked up at me, and with her small, delicate hand – the same small, delicate hand that had been pleasuring her pussy and stroking my cock only minutes before – she pounded on the back of my seat.
“Darrell, listen,” Courtney said in a loud, slightly slurred voice, “I’m hungry, ssho … so you have to drive me somewhere for food. Not one of those shithole places you like to eat at, though. Shome … someplace nice. So go. Now.”
“No can do, Miss Ravanche,” I replied. I tapped the digital clock on the limo dashboard, right under the GPS. “Almost midnight. Your father gave strict orders to have you home by then. And I intend to do my best to follow them.”
“You’re listening to Daddy?” Courtney said. She began to laugh, and sat back in her seat, sprawling out lazily across its leather-covered cushions. “Daddy’s an idiot, in case you hadn’t noticed. Give me a fucking break. Besides, he’s not here … and I am. And I’m hungry. So go take me to shome … fuck! Someplace with food. Good food, though. Now.” She opened her handbag, rummaging around for something, looking exasperated as she couldn’t find it. “Fuck. Out of cash … how’d that happen? Anyway, you’ll have to pay for me, too.”
“Much as I would love to, Miss Ravanche,” I said politely, “I made a promise to your father. Home by midnight, and we’re already cutting that mighty close. So, I’m sorry, ma’am … no.”
“Oh, c’mon, Darrell, don’t be an asshole,” Courtney snapped impatiently. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of that dazzling, gorgeous smile of hers in the rearview … the flirty and oh-so-unbelievably-fucking-fake smile I’d seen one too many times before. “Do it for me … pleeeeeeease?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” I said again. “No can do.”
Courtney sighed loudly. “Really?” she said, “really? God, you suck. I … wow. You’re such an asshole, Darrell … no wonder you drive fucking cars for a living. Unbelievable …” She kicked the back of one of the seats, then kicked it again harder … and with an even louder sigh, she took her cell phone out of her handbag.
I didn’t say anything. I knew better than to argue with Courtney. I just turned on the blinker, changed lanes, and headed for the next exit. Our next stop was just ten minutes away, maybe less. I thought I could make it there by midnight … or get close to it, at any rate.
“Becky? It’s Courtney,” I heard my passenger saying loudly in the back. Glancing in the rearview, I could see her cellphone pressed to her ear, as it was so very often. “What? … yeah, I guess I do sound pissed off … the limo driver’s being such a douche, that’s why … I know, right? … anyway, wanted to tell you what happened at Frantique tonight … mmm-hmm, and I met the most amazing bartender …”
Courtney let out a wicked giggle … and then shot a vicious look at the front of the limo, right into my rearview mirror. “Mind your own fucking business,” she muttered, and she hit the button that rolled up the dark tinted screen between the driver’s seat and the passenger’s compartment. “Such a nosy fucking prick … anyway, here’s what happened … so awesome …” I heard Courtney say, before the screen shut firmly in place.
I didn’t mind. Somehow I thought I knew exactly what Courtney would tell her friend Becky about the hot bartender. Right down to the last tiny detail.
The drive back to Courtney’s home went pretty smoothly. We reached the gates to the house at just a smidge past midnight. Unfortunately, the drive up the private roads past the guardhouse to the main mansion was another five minutes, easy. As I drove past the endless rows of finely-trimmed hedges leading to the house, I sighed … and shrugged my shoulders in resignation. Someday, I knew I’d remember that the damn driveway to the house was really, really long …
I pulled up in front of the mansion. A large, sweeping marble staircase led up to its main doors. I got out of the limo, and opened the passenger door in the back. “Have a good night, ma’am,” I said courteously to Courtney, as I took her hand and helped her out of the back of the limo. “I’ll see you Monday morning, when I pick you up for school, then?”
“Drop dead,” Courtney snapped, giving me a baleful look as she yanked her arm coldly away from me. Wobbling on her high heels, she started up the grand stairway that led to the main door of the mansion … and nearly toppled over as she stumbled clumsily on the marble steps. Cursing, she stormed off instead to one of the side entrances, flinging the door open and lurching inside the lower levels of the sprawling, opulent house.
I watched silently as Courtney disappeared from my sight. There was a time when my blood would’ve been absolutely boiling, having to listen to a spoiled, selfish brat like her. In my life, I’d dealt with a lot of people like her. There was a time I would’ve been angry, and bitter, and feeling utterly helpless … not anymore, though.
Amazing how things could change with a simple snap of the fingers.
As I closed the passenger door and prepared to head home, I heard a low, gravelly voice begin to speak to me. “You’re late,” said the voice. An older gentleman stepped out of the shadows by the mansion door, and he walked briskly down the marble steps towards me. Looking quite dapper and dressed to the nines in an expensive suit, he looked every inch of the multi-millionaire that he was. His name was Percival Ravanche, of the famous Ravanche family – as famous as the Rockefellers and the Kennedys, and maybe even richer. Percival was the current CEO of Ravanche International, not to mention my boss … and not to mention Courtney’s father.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ravanche,” I said respectfully as Mr. Ravanche approached me. I clasped my hands behind me as I spoke to him. I knew the drill. “The traffic –”
“– is nothing but a sad, pathetic excuse, Darrell,” Mr. Ravanche replied icily. “You know that. I pay you to drive, and with that payment comes the expectation that you can deal with something as trivial as traffic.” He pursed his lips in complete disdain. “Ten minutes late is not something I find acceptable. Not at all … and you know that. I expect perfection. And as I did not get what I expected, I’ll be docking payment for your services completely this evening.”
“I understand, sir,” I said. I lowered my eyes a bit as I pretended to be just slightly embarrassed … and as I did so, I lightly patted the wad of cash in the pocket of my work trousers. I’d expected as much. “It won’t happen again.”
Mr. Ravanche snorted in derision. “I’ve heard that before from you,” he said to me. “It seems to me that every time you drive for my daughter Courtney, though – and for me – you’re always disappointing me.” He gave me a haughty, condescending look. “Small wonder you’re just a limo driver. No ambition, I’d imagine. No desire to strive for excellence, like me. I suppose that’s what you get from working nothing but pathetic, dead end jobs your whole life.”
“I suppose so, sir,” I said amiably.
“That’s it? ‘I suppose so’ … how sad,” Mr. Ravanche laughed. It was a cold, ugly sound. “Well, Darrell, with an attitude like that, I’ve got half a mind to fire–”
Snap.
“–to give you just one last chance,” finished Mr. Ravanche, the same way he usually did. “I’ll be generous. One chance. Just don’t screw things up again. Understand?”
I nodded. I understood, more than he’d possibly ever know. I’d heard him say the same thing many, many times before. Besides, Mr. Ravanche was absolutely right. I’d learned a lot, working the pathetic odd jobs that Mr. Ravanche liked to sneer so much at. Learned a lot how to be polite, bide my time, and deal with all sorts of people as a waiter, and as a janitor, and yes, as a limo driver.
However, I learned even more from my brief stint working as a stagehand for a magic show. Old Italian fella, called himself the Great Vardino, though I knew him just as Tony. Great guy. Wasn’t much of a magician – he was guaranteed to screw up at least one trick a show, and sometimes he’d get stage fright and stutter up a storm in front of the audience – but he was damn good at one thing. Amazing, actually.
And Tony taught me how to snap my fingers the right way, and to be damn good at that one thing, too.
“After all, Courtney’s headed off to college in the fall.” A hint of a proud, smug smile crept to Mr. Ravanche’ lips. “Northern State. She didn’t quite have the grades for it – goddamn good-for-nothing teachers at that private school of hers, it’s their fault – but a couple of bucks donated to Northern State’s science labs, and the alumni association, and …” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Well, looks like Courtney’s going to be a cheerleader for the Big Red Machine.”
I nodded. “That’s very good to hear, sir,” I said politely … even as I silently wondered if that would still happen if Courtney’s flat, sexy tummy start to swell a little before then. I wasn’t deliberately trying to knock up Courtney, but given how many times lately I’d fucked that delectably tight pussy of hers without using any sort of protection, I supposed that was probably going to be inevitable. I found myself wondering how proud Daddy Percy would react to that particular tidbit of joyous news whenever that day finally arrived.
“By the way,” Mr. Ravanche asked me, “did that fucking no-account dry cleaner ever find my suit?”
“No, sir, I don’t believe he did,” I replied.
“Fourteen thousand dollar custom made suit, hand-stitched with the finest Tasmanian wool, from one of the best tailors in Paris, and they lost it,” Mr. Ravanche fumed. “Lost it. Can you believe that?”
“I don’t understand how things like that can happen, sir,” I said blandly. “It’s a damn shame.”
“No kidding,” Mr. Ravanche muttered darkly. He waved his hand dismissively at me. “Go.”
“Very well, sir,” I said. I took a few steps back towards the driver’s seat. “Good night, sir.”
“Oh, one more thing, Darrell,” Mr. Ravanche added, before I could climb back into the driver’s seat and drive away, “a very good friend of mine – we’ve known each other for years, ever since we went to prep school together – is in need of a driver for his two twin daughters. They’re about Courtney’s age. Not nearly as polite, gracious or as well-mannered as Courtney, of course, but no matter. He asked me for a recommendation, and …” He paused for a moment, looking incredibly lost, a puzzled expression crossing his usually calm, confident face.
“And?” I asked.
“… and I recommended you to him. Highly, in fact.” Mr. Ravanche seemed a little surprised by the words coming out of his mouth … then shook his head, took a deep breath, and continued. “Anyway, I can give you his number if you’re interested. But take care, Darrell – your work for him would be a reflection upon me, so I’d need you to take this very seriously. Do you think you can handle this?”
“Absolutely, sir,” I replied. I watched as Mr. Ravanche reached into his jacket pocket for a business card, and I held out my hand to take it. “Please tell your friend I’ll be giving his daughters exactly the same attention that I give to your own daughter Courtney.”
“Good,” said Mr. Ravanche.
“Very good,” I replied, as I tucked the card away into my jacket.
And, indeed … it turned out to be very, very, very good.