Uber

From her seventh floor beach view hotel balcony, Lynn watched the stream of cars on Shoreline Boulevard. “I can’t understand why anyone would be up and commuting at this hour,” Lynn said to herself.

Lynn was up, because she hadn’t quite adjusted to the time zone and the appointment with her elderly mother’s caregiver, was scheduled for 1 pm. Lynn was still wearing the thin linen shorts and white tank top, chosen for the red-eye flight from Florida.

She remembered removing her bra and watching TV, as she looked back into the room, where she noticed the empty mini bottles on the nightstand. The left over buzz made her feel horny, restless and impulsive enough to throw caution aside and summon the courage to join the growing mass on the street below.

The Uber driver met her curbside. His late model white subcompact appealed to Lynn as she stepped into the back seat. “Take me south on Shoreline. I’ll let you know when we are getting close. I’t a 40 minute drive at least,” she said.

To say Lynn acted on impulse is a bit disingenuous. She’d developed this particular fantasy over several months and it appealed to her desire for exposure.

She felt the acceleration as they pulled onto the main road and looked out at the ocean, still black and waiting for dawn. The street-lights appeared to stretch on for miles, and created a strobe effect of dark and light at quarter-mile intervals so that if the driver happened to look into the rear view mirror, Lynn would illuminate briefly and then fall back into darkness.

She used the darkness to her advantage, as she quietly and carefully unzipped her shorts, revealing a thin strip of pubic hair. She felt her nipples erect against the thin fabric of her tank top, which caught the occasional puff of sea air from the driver’s open window.

“He can see my face and watch my expression. From my shorts down, I’m invisible,” Lynn thought to herself, as she let her fingers comb through her pubic hair. With each pass, she let middle finger search for the wetness she knew would flow, if she could just relax completely.

She observed the driver seemed preoccupied with his own business, as he looked out at the horizon ahead and then down as he scrolled across the screen of his phone.

With one hand controlling her nipples and another taking moist passes around and over her clitoris, Lynn felt in control of the moment. She could let her arousal ebb and flow, which she monitored, using the darkness to accelerate her sensation, and the glow from the street light as a signal to slow down.

After 10 minutes of on and off, it became increasing more difficult to stop the urge to climax which Lynn reacted with the slightest moan, and shudder.

The release brought a smile to her lips, which appeared to go unnoticed to the driver.

Lynn squirmed out of her shorts, lifted her knees up and spread her legs. She opened her purse and removed the blue glass dildo. The feel of cold glass between her pussy lips changed with each slow insertion.

She used the tip or head of the dildo at first, allowing her vagina to clamp down on the first bulb, feeling each slippery stretch and contraction. She took the second bulb, then the third and finally felt the glass bottom out, deep within her.

With each thrust, she felt the urge to cum under the measured light and darkness.

She came again. She bit down onto to her lip in a failed attempt to hold back. “I’ve never had an orgasm like this before,” she thought to herself. “Oh my God.” She arched her back in the crashing waves.

The driver’s eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. “About halfway there,” she said.

“OK,” he replied. “I have another customer about a mile ahead. Would you mind sharing your ride? He’s agreed to pick up your entire fare.”

“Of course not.”

She heard the sound of the car’s tires on crushed gravel as the driver turn toward the ocean and stopped at a gate. He entered a code. At the end of the driveway she could just make out the shadow of what looked like a very large two story home and by the sound of the waves, appeared to be face out over a cliff with the ocean below.

A casually dressed man was standing in the columned entry, framed with stately porch lights and planted urns. I

Lynn moved to the driver’s side of the back seat to make room for the new passenger.

He spoke through the open window and said: “Thanks a million, George. I owe you. I’ve been called in to help out at the last minute, and I’d rather not leave my car parked outside the hangar.”

“Glad to be of service, Mr. Coats.”

“And thank you my dear. Would you mind if I join you in the back seat? “he asked.

“Not at all, It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Coats. I’m Lynn Stevens; just visiting your side of the continent on a family matter and taking a rare opportunity to explore the south coast,” she said.

“Nice to meet you Lynn, call me Mike.”

Mike slid into the back seat and Lynn sensed his warmth and obvious vitality… tan, groomed, fit and quite frankly gorgeous.

“One more complimentary adjective, and I’d bet he’s gay,” Lynn said to herself.

Mike rested his left arm on the back of the seat, and Lynn instinctively moved her head in his direction, a gesture of immediate magnetic attraction. They were two souls, within a serendipitous encounter, connecting at the break of dawn.