I wasn’t their uber driver, but I gave them a ride anyway [MFF]

I flip on my turn signal and pull the car to the curb, yelling at my phone. The damn GPS … my arrow bounces back and forth across three city blocks, and now I think I just made a wrong turn. Fucking technology. Power the phone off, wait a moment, turn it back on, open the maps app, put in my address, find my way out of here…

My concentration shatters — the car’s dome light turns on. Someone is opening my car’s rear door!

What the fuck? I jam down on the lock button. The reaction is automatic and futile, the door is already open, I’m just panicking.

“What are you doing?” I holler.

A girl, not much older than me, spills across my back seat. She’s done up, or she was. At some point earlier this evening she probably looked perfect, hair, makeup, jewelry, the wrap around her shoulders, the tight black dress. Now she looks sweaty and disheveled and a little drunk. We make eye contact in the rear-view mirror. “Oh my god,” she says, “I love it when we get a cute one.”

What the hell? “Who are you?”

“Ooh, let me see,” says another girl, climbing in behind the first, dressed similar. “Maybe tonight won’t be a waste, after all.”

“What are you doing in my car?” I’m shouting, anger and confusion and annoyance and frustration all competing for top spot.

“It’s ok,” says the second girl, “She’s not that drunk or anything.”

“C’mon,” says the first, “Can we go now?”

“Go where?” I’m in a madhouse.

She turns to her friend. “You put in my address, right, Tara?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“What?” I’m still not understanding.

The second girl, Tara, holds up her phone, showing me something. I can’t make it out. “On the Uber,” she says, looking at me like I’m an idiot.

“I’m not your Uber!”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Yes you are, c’mon. Let’s go.”

“What? No. Get out, I’m not your Uber.”

“Cut the shit,” she says, “You pulled up and let us in…” She looks at her phone, “David.”

“How do you know my name?” I holler.

“Uh… because you’re the Uber driver? Duh.”

“I’m not your Uber driver!” I can’t think of any way of saying it more direct.

“Molly.” She leans into her friend. I can’t help but notice her large rack. “Why does he keep saying that?”

The first girl busts up laughing. “Tara, you idiot. Did we just get into some rando’s car?”

“Maybe he’s just fucking with us cuz we’re drunk.”

I’m growing exasperated. “I’m not fucking with anybody!”

The first girl, Molly, makes eye contact with me in the mirror, her grin widening, growing flirty. “Yeah, that’s my problem too.”

Tara’s insistent. “Can we please just get moving? Or else I’ll give you a bad rating.”

“Get moving where?” I’m nearly hysterical.

“Here,” Molly says, “I’ll handle this.” And then she’s stretching her leg out, climbing from the rear seat to the front, all clumsy and fumbling and completely without grace. Her tits are nearly falling out of her dress, her head swings across, I have to lean back to let her past.

“What’re you doing?” Tara exclaims, “You’re supposed to stay in the back seat!”

Molly pauses when our faces are so close we’re nearly touching. “You look like a nice guy, David,” she says, “And I’m a nice girl. We’re both nice girls. Do you think you could drive us home? I’ll make it worth your while.” She drags out this last sentence, lets it linger, grins at me.

I sigh. “Where do you live?”

“Not far,” she says, “Ten minutes, ish. Fifteen.” She bites her lip, her lip gloss sparkling. “Is that OK?” Her hand drops to the crotch of my pants, squeezes.

My breath catches.

“Thought so,” she says, smirking. She flops down into the passenger seat. “Can you help me with my seatbelt?” She sits back, hands at her sides, grinning at me.

“What…” I stall. She’s pulled her dress down, exposed her nipples. Her tits are pert, round, pushed up by the stretched fabric. She’s cute, smiling at me flirtatiously. She’s making my head swim. My dick twitch.

I reach across her and get a face full of boobs. I pull the seatbelt down from her shoulder to her hip, wiggling the strap between her tits.

She giggles, her boobs bounce. “Turn right at the light.”

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I put the car in drive and pull away from the curb.

“Thank fuck,” Tara says from the backseat, relief on her face as she looks out the window. “You shouldn’t fuck around with your fare that way.”

Molly giggles, shoots me another sly grin. “Get on the ramp, here.”

“That’s crossing the bridge,” I protest.

“Obviously,” says Tara.

Molly turns in her seat, her tit smushed against the leather. “Tara, show him your tits.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

But Tara’s already pulling down on the hem of her dress. Her tits leap out. Two large breasts spilling from her frame, bouncing free as I stop for a red light. Her pierced nipples splay outwards as she eyes me in the mirror.

“She’s a hot bitch, isn’t she?” Molly says, pawing at her friend’s tits. Tara seems used to it, not reacting as the other girl tweaks the barbell piercings.

I am mesmerized. I want to suck on them. The light turns green and I pull onto the ramp, the one heading towards the bridge.

Tara stares at me, back arched, tits pushed out as we cross the bay. The lights flick past us, waves of brightness and shadow passing through the car. Tara is gorgeous, so sexy in her confidence. The lane-keep beeps, pulls the wheel in my hands, centers the car on the bridge. We’re lucky the roads are quiet, I’m so distracted.

I turn my head, look at Molly. “What next?”

“I’ve got some ideas,” she says, pulling my hand, setting it between her legs. She moans as she pushes my fingers into her heat, her pussy grinding against me through her panties. I slip my fingers around the fabric, slide up into her. She groans and smiles.

“I meant driving.”

Molly laughs. “Take the connector to the expressway.” She moans. “Yes, like that, harder. Head south.”

I turn and push.

“Oh, fuck…” she whispers.

I pull my hand back, suck my fingers clean.

Molly giggles. “Hot.” She’s fingering herself. “Second exit. First left.”

I pull her hand to my crotch. Her fingers wrap around the tent my cock makes. She fumbles with my fly, pulls my erection out.

“Go down for about a mile or two,” she says, fist pumping my shaft. Her index finger and thumb stretch around my girth, almost form a circle, squeezing me tight.

Tara rolls her eyes. “You’re such a slut, Molly.”

“You’re just jealous that I finally found some fat dick tonight.” She smiles at me. “He’s really fucking hard, too.”

“You jerking him?”

“Yeah,” says Molly, “I’m gonna suck him off in a minute.” She eyes me. “If he wants.”

I nod, eyes wide.

“Right at the light, left at the stop sign. Tara’ll tell you which house.” And then Molly leans across the seat, lips glistening, the naughtiest smirk on her face.

It’s an awkward position, her head on my lap, beneath my arms. But my cock is in her mouth, and she’s sucking, and it feels amazing.

Tara watches, rolling her eyes. “Fourth house. The green one, white door.”

I pull up, put the car in park, and lean my seat back. Molly’s head is bobbing up and down, up and down, her lips stretched around my shaft, my dick bouncing against the back of her mouth. I fold my hands behind my head and moan. Her hair flops over, gets in the way, she pulls it back.

Tara leans over, her tits in my face. She slides a finger into my mouth. I suck on it.

“Ok, I’ll admit,” she says, “This is pretty fucking hot.”

“Let me suck on your tits,” I say. They’re so fucking big.

She grins and leans in closer, and I hold out my tongue for her nipple. As I lick, the barbell piercing clicks against my teeth. She tastes delicious.

I am panting and really getting into it. Molly jerks my spit-slicked cock while she sucks on my sac, sucking one ball and then other into her mouth. She grabs and squeezes them, mouth returning to my shaft. I whimper.

Tara watches. “You want to finish now, don’t you?”

“Y-yes…” I manage.

“Fuck her face.” She wraps her hand around her friend’s hair, bunching it together behind her head in fist. She uses that fist to drive Molly’s mouth onto my shaft, faster and faster. Smacking and sucking and gagging sounds fill the car. I gasp. “You’re close, I can tell.”

I moan in agreement.

“Cum, Uber boy,” Tara instructs, “She’s your little slut now, fill her throat with your sperm.” She shoves Molly down and holds her there.

And I cum. My body goes rigid, I groan, and my dick erupts in Molly’s mouth.

Tara laughs, pumping Molly’s head until I finally go limp.

“Fuck,” Molly says, swallowing, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, “How long has it been since you’ve cum? That was a giant fucking load.”

I grunt.

Tara laughs again. “C’mon, Molly, let’s go.” She pulls her dress back up, sliding her tits into place before opening the door. “I can’t believe you blew the Uber driver.”

“Oh you’re one to speak” Molly says, climbing out after her friend, “You don’t remember two weeks ago?”

“No? What’d I do?” I hear Tara say as the doors close, and then they’re gone.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/sphhto/i_wasnt_their_uber_driver_but_i_gave_them_a_ride