Is He Serious?

It took everything I had in me to stop, to take a moment, to consider my options. And I had to think about myself, about what I truly wanted.

About who I was in the core of me.

"You're serious?" I ask him, eyes narrowing, "Debt paid?"

Slowly he closes his fist around the thickness of his cock and starts to stroke it. Long and deliberate strokes up and down the length of him, squeezing just enough at the head of him that it makes his cock visibly twitch.

"Darling," he half-laughs, "That's pennies. And it's frosh week. You could have got away with flashing me and I would have accepted it as payment done and owed. You didn't have to go so far as touch and you know it.

"Anything past the sight of those fucking pristine tits of yours was something unexpected. I fucking owe you for it, frankly, so I'll grant you the gift of being able to suck my cock."

"How fucking generous of you," I roll my eyes.

"It is," he sneers, "Because you want it and you know you do. You want to taste it. You want to suck it. You want to feel me fill you up, feel me test your limits."

"Do I now?" I ask him, "You're so certain of it?"

He nods, still stroking his cock, "I am."

And I want to be strong, to prove him wrong. I want to yank my shirt on, blow him a cheek kiss, and slip out of the car with my backpack in hand and my debt fully paid.

But I'm not strong enough to just do that.

"How?" I ask him weakly instead.

"What's that darling?" he drawls at me, "Didn't quite catch what you were saying there."

"How?" I repeat, a little louder.

He knows what I'm asking. I know that he knows.

But from the way his smile blossoms, all wicked intent, and the way his hand slows even more on his cock, stroking it in a way that makes it so that my heart starts to beat faster at the exact opposite pace of him, I know that he isn't going to give in to me quite yet. He wants to make me work for this.

He wants to punish me.

"How what?" he asks, faux innocence in his voice.

"How do you know?" I try, **** but only getting a shake of the head from him I make it explicit, "How do you know that I can't help myself?"

With those words it's clear what's going to happen next. I have my rules and I'll keep to them, but I'm not leaving anytime soon.

My debt is paid. What happens next is just for me.

"You shake when I touch you, and not in the way that you would if you were truly scared, disgusted, by the thought of touching me. Darling I know I'm not a handsome man, but I've had enough **** girls in my cab to know the ones that secretly want to be bad.

"I've got your number. You want to suck my cock but you don't want to admit that you do. You want to fuck it too, curiosity is making that more and more evident. But you'll keep your legs closed this ride."

"This ride?" I ask, scared and nervous that I know what he's saying.

"This ride," he nods, "Because when we're done here, when you've been a good girl and swallowed every last drop of cum I've got for you I'm going to give you my card and then everytime you need a ride, I'm going to be your first call. And I'll make time for you, because each time you're in my cab you'll go a little further. Each time you'll be a little braver. Each time..."

He smiles like he knows he's right and he is, "It's like a ****, darling. And each time you'll need a stronger hit to satisfy."

Join my Patreon for only $3 a month and get early access to new chapters and nearly a years worth of exclusive content. https://www.patreon.com/SophiePert