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I’ve never been one to condone public displays of affection.
PDA is gross. It’s typically between two trashy-ass human beings who have been dating for less than a month and call each other pet names, like “panda” or “cookie” or some shit like that. Then they kiss in front of you and you want to deck the dude for being such a pussy-whipped bitch.
Okay, so with that preface out of the way, let’s just say I didn’t feel entirely comfortable last night getting head from my date in a stranger’s car while he was driving me back to my apartment, but I didn’t feel completely uncomfortable, either. So, here is what happened:
It was pouring down rain last night. I mean, it was like God had opened the floodgates and was trying to drown all the heathens out of the bar. It worked. I was ready to leave our date function and so was my date. She was drunk and so was I, but neither of us were blacked out.
I downloaded Uber and Lyft about a month ago. I like it. You get to have a conversation with a normal person and you never have to worry about cash. Not to mention, you never have to add a tip. They’re good apps if you don’t have them.
We call an Uber to the bar and the dude gets there in three minutes. His name is Paul and he’s, like, a 23-year-old graduate student. My date and I hop in the backseat and I give him my address and he turns on some music. Suddenly, my date is all over me. We start making out in the backseat. I feel bad for Paul, but Paul is driving an Uber at 2 a.m., so I reassure myself that he has seen worse.
I can tell that my date wants to do more than make out, and she wants to do it right fucking now. She reaches down for my dick and slips her hands through my shorts. I slap them away at first, because we are in a fucking Uber, but she’s aggressive. She reaches back for my cock. She will not be denied. I succumb to her request.
Paul is texting and driving at the same time. We hit a ton of red lights, but neither of us seem interested in making conversation, so I feel a little more comfortable whipping my dick out in the backseat. My date unbuttons my shorts and pulls down my zipper. I start coughing to drown out the deafening sound of my zipper going down. It works. Fucking Paul has got his hands at ten and two and his eyes on the road. My date has her eyes on my dick, and she goes straight for it, face first. Boom. It’s happening.
We’re hitting green light after green light now. Paul is looking straight ahead, unaware of his clients defiling his backseat. It looks like she is passed out in my lap, but my date is going hard. A tit slips out of her dress. It gives me a sly grin. “A gift for you if you look back here, Paul,” I think to myself, in lieu of a tip. She doesn’t stop, throwing in a little tongue action mixed with some deep throat. Suddenly, she makes that terribly sexy choking noise. I cough to cover it up. Paul is fucking clueless. It’s too easy.
Out of nowhere, we hit some late-night traffic and the car comes to a complete stop. I’m about a quarter of the way through this blow job. I’ve got one hand gripping the door and the other on top of her head. Paul looks up at the rearview mirror. Our eyes meet. He knows. I shrug. He looks back at the road. Jackpot.
He turns up the music. I feel a little more comfortable spreading my legs. My date is less concerned about being quiet and you can hear the consistency of the blow job sounds. I can see Paul laughing and opening a new text. He is telling his friends about what is going on. Do it, Paul. I don’t care. I have no shame.
We get to my place and I am three quarters of the way to blowing my load, but we have to stop. My date and I get out of the car and Paul says something like, “Thanks for using Uber.” I thank him for the ride and he drives off. Uber asks me to rate my driver. I give him three out of five stars. He drove pretty fucking slow. Drive faster, Paul.
We get inside my apartment and my date sits down on the couch and falls asleep. The action has ceased. I’m kind of pissed, but kind of not. I am a proud, shameless man who got head in an Uber in front of a stranger.
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