I wasn’t sure of what I had taken that night. Actually I knew some of what I had taken that night to be more accurate. I was high – High as a kite they say. I was tipsy as well. The combination of the drugs and alcohol made me unsteady on my feet. I have always had ‘balance issues’, they were just exasperated by the toxins in my body. I was swaying as I walked down the street with my red and gold high heeled shoes swinging in my left hand. The soles of my feet were black from traipsing around central London. They were cold as well. As was the rest of my body, that’s what I get though for wearing a black dress and walking around barefoot in the middle of winter in England.

I decided I needed to find a taxi, not only because it was cold but also because I didn’t know where I was. This is how most of my Friday and Saturday nights ended; barefoot on some unknown street in London. Occasionally, I’d find myself in an unknown city, but those times were rare. I began to feel woozy and light headed. I wish I could remember what I had taken. I knew I had smoked a few joints and done a couple lines of coke, but that normally didn’t make me feel this bad. I remembered starting off with my friends in a pub off of Tottenham court road. After being kicked out at closing time we had moved on to a club near Piccadilly Circus. That must have gotten boring though, because I remembered being in Leicester Square. I was nowhere familiar, which meant that I had deviated from the west end at some point. I looked at the street signs telling me that I was in the borough of Brent, an unknown area at that time for me.

I needed to focus. Focusing wasn’t a strong point of mine, even when sober. I was beginning to come down from my high. I was starting to feel exhausted and needed to get home. My eyes were heavy and things began to blur, but there was no mistaking the orange light of a taxi coming up the street. I held out my hand to flag it down, but it just kept going. Didn’t even slow down to acknowledge my presence. This didn’t surprise me. Not many taxi drivers wanted to pick up a drunken teenager at that time of night.

I continued to walk down the street searching for another cab. I walked past a group of men who were obviously as wasted as I was. They made some comments about my legs and how nice they were. I just gave them the finger and continued trying to avoid stepping on glass.
Finally I saw another taxi at the end of the street. I decided to run down the street in an attempt to catch it. Just as I got close, it started driving in the opposite direction. I thought it was going to carry on, but the driver must have seen me and he soon stopped again, waiting for me to approach him. I reached the taxi panting, glad to have finally found a way to keep my toes from freezing off. That was probably a bit dramatic, but I was freezing by that point. The taxi driver rolled down his window.

“‘Ello love, where’re you going?” He gave off a creepy vibe, but I didn’t have much of an option, if I wanted to get home.

I gave him my address and climbed into the back. The driver was middle-aged, maybe slightly older. I would have guessed he was approaching his sixties. He was overweight, balding and smelled of stale cigarettes. He tried to make some small chit chat which I didn’t want to answer, but at least it would keep me awake.

He started talking about his wife and three children. His youngest had recently gotten three cats which kept him up all night. I stared out the window and tried to drown out his mundane stories with not much luck. I still couldn’t tell where we were, but I was sure we were getting somewhat close to my house.

“Where’re you from love?” he asked me. “You don’t sound like you’re from around ‘ere.”

I hated that question, it was a common one. Not surprising though, I was born in America and even though I had lived in London since I was five, I had never lost my accent. “I am originally from the states, but have lived here a long time.” I explained.

“Tell you what, I’ll just charge you fifteen. Give you a bit of a discount. You seem like a nice girl.”

“Fuck!” His discount caused me to notice that I didn’t have my purse or any money with me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had it with me. I definitely left my house with it, but hadn’t had it when I had left my friends. I had had my shoes in one hand, and nothing in the other. No purse meant no phone.

“That’s not the language a lady should be using. I always tell little Sophie that. She’s not that young now, but she will always me by little girl.”

“I don’t have any money with me.” He pulled over on the side of the street and I expected him to kick me out of the cab. Instead, he had something else in mind.

“Well we could arrange something else. You see, as much as I love my woman, we aren’t so physical anymore.”

I knew where he was going with this. I hesitated. He wasn’t my ideal partner, but I didn’t know what would happen since I couldn’t pay my cab fare. I think he took my hesitation as consent. He opened his door and then closed it before climbing into the back of the cab with me.

“I don’t know about this...”

“Look love, we can either settle this now or I can take you home and since I know where you’ll live then I can come and collect tomorrow, but I will have to charge a little interest, say fifty quid?”

I couldn’t afford to pay him tomorrow. It was one fuck, how bad could it be? I allowed him to come towards me. He placed my hands on his crotch. I hesitated before doing anything else. I wasn’t actually sure if I wanted to go through with this, but on the other hand I didn’t really have an option of being picky. With a drug habit like mine, I was rarely left with excess pocket money, especially since I was sixteen and didn’t have a job. I wasn’t even sure if I would have been able to pay the cab fare if I had my purse with me.

“I think I will increase the interest another tenner, so what’s your choice?”

My hand moved from his crotch to his belt. I unbuckled it and removed it from the loops on his jeans. I then pulled down his jeans and his y-fronts. I then pulled my hand up to my chest and just stared at his cock. I froze, I became shy and I didn’t know what to do next.

I had been with plenty of men in the past, but nothing like this. I was feeling slightly reluctant to go through with this.
The driver could tell that my hands needed some encouragement. He moved my right hand to his balls, so that it was cupping them. He then moved my left hand towards his cock. I knew what he wanted me to do. I began to stroke his cock with my hand and I felt it grow hard against my palm. We were both kneeling on the floor of the taxi. I continued to stroke his cock as he moaned. He soon wrapped my hair around his hand tightly and pulled my head towards his pelvis. As a reaction I pulled against his grip, but it only caused my head to hurt more.

His cock continued to swell in my mouth, it was much bigger than it originally looked, but it was nothing more than average. I moved his cock in and out of my mouth as I moved my hand up and down his shaft while cupping his balls in my other hand. My hands and mouth soon found a constant rhythm. His moans were in sync with these rhythms as well.

His hand released my hair allowing me to choose the speed of movement and the depth at which his cock penetrated my mouth. I stopped thinking about everything outside the taxi and just began to enjoy the taste of this stranger in my mouth. When his hand reached my hair again, I fought back a little on purpose. I wanted to feel that pain again as he fucked my mouth.

“Mmm, you’re a feisty little whore, aren’t you?” I just moaned in return.

His breathing got faster and his moans got louder. He then began to thrust his hips so that more of his dick was in my mouth. A few of the thrusts caused me to choke a little, but the thrusts slowed down as I felt his warm salty cum against the roof of my mouth.

I thought that was all he expected of me, but it turns out that I was wrong. He reached under my dress and pulled my red thong down and off my legs. His hand caressed my thigh and soon found my pussy. He could feel how wet it was as he moved his finger up and down the slit. I was ashamed. I shouldn’t have been enjoying this encounter, yet I did.

He put two fingers into my pussy and leaned forward as to kiss me, but I moved my head out of the way. I didn’t want him to kiss my lips. It was too intimate. I didn’t want that experience to be like that. I just wanted him to fuck me. He didn’t try to kiss my mouth again, so instead he kissed my neck. I moaned as he inserted another finger into my pussy. His kisses went down my shoulder then moved in between my legs. I felt his tongue against my clit and he fucked me his fingers. His tongue traced the outline of my pussy as he stopped moving his fingers. I felt his tongue move into my pussy. It was soft and felt so nice.

I felt a finger enter my ass; it caused me to jump a little, because I wasn’t expecting it. I had never felt anything in my ass before. His finger was small, but it was still uncomfortable. I tried to relax more and as I did I was able to feel the pleasure of his tongue and fingers inside me. I moaned loudly, I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted his cock deep inside me. He didn’t do that though. Instead, he pulled his mouth away from pussy, but left his finger in my ass.

“Turn around.” He instructed me.

I did as he instructed. He positioned me so that I was leaning over the seats in the back of the cab and my ass was in the air.  I expected him to feel his cock enter my pussy, but when he pressed it against my ass, it surprised me.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“I am going to fuck your ass, slut.”

I wasn’t ready for anyone to do that, I was worried of it hurting. His finger was enough, I couldn’t imagine anything larger in my small hole. I turned around quickly, so I could protest.

“I didn’t think you were going to do that!”

“Turn around slut, unless you want to pay for this journey.” He barked at me. He moved my entire body so I returned to the position he wanted me in.

“Woah. Why can’t you just fuck my pussy, like I thought you were going to?” I asked turning my head so I could see him.”

“Because you’re a slut. I don’t want to be where so many men have been before. I can tell your a whore, you don’t deserve to be fucked like that.”

His words were harsh. I didn’t want it, but knew I had no option; I wouldn’t be able to afford any monetary value he demanded from me. I remained in the bent over position waiting tensely for what he was going to do next. I could hear him spit on his cock, lubricating it for me as much as he could. I then felt him press it up against me. I closed my eyes, waiting for what was to come.
In one swift motion, he thrust his entire cock into my ass. The pain was more than I expected, it tore through me. It was almost searing. A tear escaped from my eye as I tried not to cry from the pain. After that, he paused, still inside me. I wanted it out, the feeling was horrible. I expressed this to him and he just stayed as he was.

“You are my slut now. I will do as I like and you will take it.”

He slowly began pumping my ass. Each time the pain lessened, but I still cried out. He put his hand over my mouth with one hand, muffling my cries.

“Shut up bitch!”

My ass began to accommodate his cock better, and it became a more pleasurable feeling. With his free hand, he slapped my ass, causing me to jerk forward as much as possible against the seat of the taxi cab. He grabbed my breasts through my dress. I wasn’t wearing a bra and he was able to grip my small breasts with his hand; pulling on them as hard as he could.

I reached down and began rubbing my own clit. The pleasure of it balanced out the pain I felt every time he rammed his cock into me. I then put three fingers into my sopping cunt and began fucking myself; my rhythm matching his. I could feel his thick cock in my ass with my fingers. I began to moan quietly.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.” He said grunting louder.

As his thrusts became more rapid, I felt him grab my hair. Each time he pumped me, he would pull on my hair causing my ass to stick out more. I began to cry out louder in a mixture of pleasure and pain. After a few thrusts I felt him cum inside me, his cum dripping out of me.

I felt depleted. Without saying anything, he put on his clothes and stepped onto the pavement leaving me in the back of the cab, collapsed over the seat. He started the engine and began driving me home.