You know nothing!

"What does that mean?" you ask, your voice thin and strange in the confined space of the car. The leather seat creaks beneath your bare thighs as you shift, the wool throw sliding off one knee.

He doesn't look at you. His eyes stay on the road, the reflected glow of passing streetlights striping across his jaw. "Unbutton me," he says.

The command lands in your chest like a dropped stone. Your fingers are already moving, pulling his trousers open, tugging the waistband of his boxers down. The fabric yields, and his cock springs free.

You stare.

"Tell me what you think of that," he breathes at you.

It's huge. Not just long but thick, the shaft ridged with veins that pulse visibly in the orange light of a passing sodium lamp. The head is broad and flushed dark, already beading at the slit. It curves slightly upward, the weight of it resting against your fingers like something alive.

"Well?" he says.

Your mouth is open. You swallow. "It looks—" Your voice cracks. The pill hums in your blood, and the truth rises up through your throat without resistance. "It looks delicious. It looks so fucking good."

"Haha, you are a greedy slut despite everything!" His mouth twitches. "If it's so delicious show me how good it really is."

You lean across the gear console. Your left thigh presses against the cool leather, your right knee still spread wide, the dress now riding up, almost exposing your pussy. The cold air of the car's vents licks across your lips, still slick and swollen, and you shiver as you lower your head.

The first taste is salt and heat. You press your lips to the head, kissing it softly, letting your tongue trace the ridge where the foreskin pulls back. He inhales sharply through his nose. His hand leaves the steering wheel for a moment—just a moment—and settles on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

What is coming over you?

"Good girl," he breathes, reassuringly. You shiver and whimper at being called his good girl.

"Make it the best blowjob you've ever given," he says. "Make it the best I've ever had."

The pill flares. Your whole body tightens, and you open your mouth and take him in.

The head fills your palate, thick and smooth, and you seal your lips around the shaft, sucking gently as you slide down. He groans—a low, rough sound that vibrates through the seat into your ribs. You pull back, tongue swirling, then dip lower and take him deeper, feeling the ridge of his cock press against the back of your tongue.

The idea of your mouth being impaled on this cab driver's manhood sends a illicit thrill through your new body. How have you ended up in this position? And how is it turning you on so much?

The hotter you get, the wetter your pussy becomes, and the more the stream of air from the heater oddly cools, and arouses, you further.

You pull you lips off his cock with a wet pop and duck lower, your tongue finding his balls. They're heavy, drawn up tight, and you mouth at them one at a time, sucking gently, lapping at the seam while your hand works his shaft in slow, twisting strokes. Your fingers barely wrap round it - and that makes you think it must be the fattest cock you have yet encountered.

As you teasingly entwine your tongue with the folds of his balls, and toy with his frenulum with your thumb, you feel the force of momentum as the car swerves slightly. His grip on your hair tightens.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, that's—"

You take your mouth away from his balls, and tease the head of his cock with your tongue. Now caressing his balls with your left hand, you slide his throbbing erection back into your mouth, deeper this time, relaxing your throat until you feel him hit the back of it. You swallow around him, muscles rippling, and he makes a sound like he's been punched. Your free hand now cups his balls, rolling them, fingers slick with your own spit as you pump the base of his cock in counterpoint to your mouth.

The car lurches. A horn blares somewhere outside. You don't stop.

You worship him. There's no other word for it—you pour everything into the act, into the wet heat of your mouth and the squeeze of your hand and the desperate, hungry sounds you make around his cock. You pull back to tongue the slit, lapping up the precum that wells there, then slide down again until your nose presses against his stomach. His hand fists in your hair, holding you there, and you swallow, swallow, swallow, throat convulsing around him.

"Shit—" He yanks the wheel. The car jolts, tires screeching, and then you feel the vehicle slow, the engine revving down as he pulls to the curb. The gear shifts into park. His other hand comes down to grip your jaw, holding you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hips rolling in short, desperate thrusts.

You take it. You take every thrust, your throat opening for him, your tongue working the underside of his cock with each stroke. It's so thick, so fat, that you wonder what it would be like slamming into the wet, void between your legs. Your pussy clenches around nothing, dripping, aching, and you moan around him—a long, vibrating sound that makes his hips stutter.

"Take it," he whispers hoarsely. "Take it all."

You do, and now you really go for it, throat clenching around the head of his cock, hand thrusting the base, other hand, clenching, releasing, rolling his phat balls.

You try not to gag. You can hardly breathe, as he now uses his hands to bounce your head up and down, your nose sealed against his pubic bone in a sea of musky pubic hair.

Then, his cock pulses. Once, twice, and then he explodes, thick ropes of cum flooding your mouth, hot and bitter and perfect. You swallow, throat working, but it's too much—some leaks from the corner of your lips, running down your chin as you keep sucking, keep swallowing, milking every last drop from him.

He groans, long and low, his hand falling away from your head. You stay there, mouth still wrapped around his softening cock, licking him clean, until you finally pull back with a gasp. Your chin is wet. Your thighs are trembling.

The way you went for it was such a spiritual - and sexual - experience. It was so overwhelming, that you thought that the difficulty you'd had breathing had almost made you see stars. You were light-headed, and it felt a bit like you were seeing flashing lights.

It is only when you heard the siren that you realise that you really were.

Blue flashing lights. Flashing, strobing, filling the rearview mirror. You turn your head, cum still cooling on your chin, and through the rear window you see it—a police car, parked directly behind you, its lights spinning in silent, terrible rotation.

Your heart slams against your ribs. The dress is bunched at your waist. Your legs are spread. Your mouth is wet with his cum.

A shadow crosses the blue lights, and a knock comes at the window.