THE DRIVER

He smiled as she surreptitiously inspected him while giving directions. He had been trying to think of an occupation for himself, and had just about settled on gas-jockey, when he remembered the car he was driving. He'd need a job that would explain his extreme wealth and large amounts of free time.

He also needed to name himself- she was bound to ask sooner or later.

"What did you say your name was?"

Or sooner. Think quick.

"Greg," he said, and cleared his throat to buy some time after being ripped out of his reverie. "Greg Dumas, I'm a software developer, sort of."

She chuckled politely, "...sort of?"

"Well, I don't actually do a whole lot of software developing anymore, but I still collect a paycheque," he smiled.

"Must be nice."

"Hey, I've done my time in the trenches."

They pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment block and he pulled down the sun visor where a few business cards where stashed. He passed one to her.

"'Director of Technology?'" she read, "Wow, you must be a computer genius."

Now it was his turn to chuckle politely, "I prefer the term 'geek' if you don't mind."

Laughing more genuinely, she dropped the card into her purse and got out of the car.

Outside the car, Chantal took a breath and decided to go for it. She poked her head through the door and looked at Greg. There was definitely something about him- something that made her want to take chances.

"So, um, are you going to come up?" She smiled, holding her breath.

It was completely out of character for her to be the one asking a guy up to her apartment, especially one she'd just met. More than just un-ladylike, it was also dangerous. Despite the fancy business cards, she felt like he was hiding something. For all she knew, he could be some kind of weird rapist that liked to take his time making a move. That would make it worse, maybe. On the other hand, she thought, maybe he really is a computer geek and hasn't had that much experience with girls. In fact, now that she thought of it, she was sure that the only thing she'd ever noticed since they met was a slight awkwardness on his part. It was as if he were new to the city, or country, or something. Actually, it was cute. And so was he, now that she realized it. Lately she'd been on the border of independence and loneliness, and he was definitely worth checking out. Maybe he had long-term potential. She bit her lip, anticipating his answer.

"Sure," he said without hesitation, killing the engine. She smiled and a wave of relief passed over her.

Her apartment was decorated in the typical mid- twenties, post-B.A. style- completely inoffensive, yet entirely unremarkable.

They sat on her futon, drank camomile and talked. Chantal had reached some sort of conclusion about Greg and seemed very comfortable around him now. She did most of the talking as she told him about her roller coaster ride of an education, ending with her at the same coffee shop job she started in high school. She was now considering a career in aromatherapy, or maybe massage. With her psychology degree, she could also go back to university for a few more years and maybe get a job as a school guidance counsellor, but she was still paying off her student loans as it was.

He listened to her life story, and continued his internal debate on whether to tell her the whole truth or not. It had been his intention when he chased her out of the coffee shop to be completely honest, but when it came down to it, he chickened out. Maybe he would just see where he could go with this, and give himself some time to work up the nerve.

Nodding at the right places to show his attentiveness, he pulled out a small bag of pot and a small brass pipe. He kept one eye on her as he filled the bowl and grabbed a lighter laying on the coffee table next to a scented candle.

He was just about to spark it up when he suddenly remembered his manners.

"Oh, sorry," he interrupted, "do you mind?"

"No, not at all- go ahead," but she seemed a bit apprehensive.

He sparked the lighter and drew the flame down through some bud. She sat silent for a few seconds watching a thin plume of smoke curl up from the pipe.

"You smoke up?" he asked, holding his breath.

She hadn't smoked marijuana since her first year at university. She'd partied a lot that year, had a great time, and met a lot of people. But during the spring exams, she'd realized how much work it took to do well at university. After that year, she'd replaced most of the fun in her life with a sober commitment to her studies.

But she wasn't in university anymore.

And she really wanted him to like her.

"Sure."

He passed the pipe over to her and she smoked some.

They slowly finished off the bowl over more tea and talk. She lit a few of her scented candles as evening came, and the rest of the apartment grew dark, leaving them in a cozy halo of candlelight.

Chantal was feeling giddy now, mostly from the weed, but partly because she was starting to really like Greg. He was polite but relaxed, and clearly intelligent.

She noticed more and more the way his jawbone was accentuated in the ethereal lighting. She noticed he had strong, thick wrists, but his fingers looked soft and trim. She noticed how full and dark his eyelashes were and how the bottom lid drew up slightly when he laughed or smiled.

She noticed all these things and she leaned closer to him.

As they talked, they inched closer and closer together until, sitting cross-legged on the futon, their knees were almost touching.

A lull in the conversation came naturally, and for a moment the couple sat in silence, each looking into the other's eyes.

The silence drew itself out and Chantal began to feel a fluttering in the pit of her stomach as she realized that they'd reached the breaking point.

She was determined not to screw it up, but was unsure of how to proceed. She wondered if he might think she was easy if she made a move, but if he didn't make a move, he might think that she just thinks of him as a 'friend' and nothing more.

Uncertainty tore at her insides. Her pulse began to pick up and adrenaline began to leak into her bloodstream.

The smile on his face faded just a little, as he got just serious enough to lean in towards her.

Chantal still wasn't sure if she should reciprocate just yet, after all, she didn't want to look too eager.

He brought his hand up to her cheek and gently stroked down to her chin. His touch was as soft as her skin and he encouraged her forward. She finally gave in to her desire and allowed him to draw her lips into his.

His lips were warm and soft, and as their mouths opened, her tongue slipped between them to meet his.

She slid her hands around the back of his neck and pulled his face tight against hers. Although her eyes were closed, she could still feel them roll back into her head with pleasure as she drew a breath and caught his scent.

The only word that could come close to describing his scent was 'man.' It wasn't perspiration, or cologne- at least, not entirely- but something more. It was that scent that sealed her fate for the night. Her nipples stood out and felt as though they were going to burst. Her breasts were aching to be stroked, and her entire crotch was on fire.

Lust gripped her relentlessly and she began taking control of him. She forced herself to pull herself away long enough to push him down on the futon and straddle his hips.

Her hands worked furiously at his shirt buttons as she unconsciously ground her pussy against the growing bulge of his cock.

With his shirt finally undone, she pulled off her sweater in one smooth motion and before he had a chance to help, her bra fell to the floor.

She bent back down over him and kissed his beautiful mouth. She pressed her tits against his smooth chest and felt his hands sliding down her back to cup her ass.

They lay on the futon for a while, tongue dancing and pelvises grinding until one of his hands slid back up a bit and forced a short way down the back of her pants.

Holding his hand, she leaned back and swung her leg around him, twisting in to a wavering stance. He propped himself up on an elbow and looked at her, expectantly.

She paused for a second, taking in the image of him lying there on her futon. With his black dress shirt open, framing his erect nipples and tight belly with its tiny handful of curly, dark hairs making a trail into his pants- with his lips a deep red from her attention, and that look on his face, the image said, 'fuck me.'

And she could think of nothing she'd rather do.

She felt her pc muscles spasm and she was overcome with a new urgency. She quickly blew out the candles on the coffee table (safety first!) and pulled him up.

Chantal led him into her room, stopping just past the door to suck on his lip just a bit more before throwing him onto her bed.

She wasn't sure why she was acting so unusually aggressive. For the moment she dismissed it to the drugs relaxing her inhibitions and the fact that it had been quite a while since she last had some good, clean sex.

She once again straddled his hips and kissed him briefly before moving on to his neck. She breathed in deep that sexy smell and her mouth began working down his chest.

She sucked at his nipples and licked down the middle of his abdomen. As the trail of hair drew near, her hands slid down to his hot crotch. She could feel his erection and gave it a quick squeeze before pulling open his jeans.

Although she had never really enjoyed giving head before, she felt it would be different this time. Nobody was pushing her head down or making her feel like something was expected of her. All she could think about was how sexy Greg was and how hot it made her to think of his cock. She wanted so badly to feel it, to smell it and to taste it.

He arched his back a little to raise his ass and she pulled both his jeans and underwear off at the same time. She saw his cock in its full glory, probably six inches long, and thick with passion. She could almost see the veins bulging with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Her hand circled the base and pulled it away from his body. She lowered her mouth to the swollen head and licked off some precum. It had a sort of neutral taste, so she stroked his cock one more time before sucking as much of it into her mouth as she could.

Her tongue played all over his cock, and she paused in her sucking long enough to nuzzle his balls, hanging low and heavy with lust.

She couldn't spend very much time sucking and licking his cock before she felt like she about to cum just thinking about having it in her cunt.

Quickly, she got up and pulled off her pants and panties as the same time, just as she had done with him. As she straddled him again, now feeling his cock against her bare pussy lips, some rational part of her mind congratulated itself on the decision to remain on the pill despite an extended dry spell.

She was as far from dry now as she could be, rubbing her cunt back and forth along his cock. It felt amazing as the ridge of his head passed over her clit, causing her stomach muscles to tighten each pass.

At last she could take it no more- she had to feel his cock inside her. She reached down and once more wrapped her fingers around his shaft. She rubbed the head once more over her clit and shuddered, pointing his cock into her hole.

She slowly sat back and his cock slid deep into her slippery cunt. She imagined she could feel every single centimetre going in as it stretched her insides.

With all her weight resting back on her crotch, she paused for a second and ran her hands up her lover's chest and kissed him full on the lips once more. He responded in kind and began moving his hips back and forth ever so slightly.

With their lips locked, she picked up the rhythm- and then the pace as they raced toward climax.

It didn't take more than a few minutes before Chantal was bouncing on his cock, moaning softly in time with his thrusts. She felt that familiar crest approaching, and it looked higher than ever before.

Just as she met her climax, she pressed her tits against his chest once more with her mouth next to his ear.

"I'm cumming," she cried softly just as she fell over the edge.

The world exploded. Her sight blacked out and her breath held fast. Her heart was thumping so hard it felt as though it would beat its way through her chest.

Somewhere, she vaguely felt his cock jerking and filling her with his seed, but it only helped draw out her trip.

After a while she began to hear someone trying to catch their breath. It took a few seconds to realize it was herself.

Chantal lifted her head up and looked into the smiling face of Greg. Even now he looked so sweet, brushing the hair plastered to her face back behind her ears.

"Hi," she said, and smiled idiotically.

"Ow," he replied, laughing gently and looking at his shoulder.

Chantal lifted her hands off his bare shoulders to reveal dark red marks where her fingertips had been.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she began, embarrassed.

"No, no, don't worry about it, I'm good," he laughed, "it's not that bad at all."

The concerned look she gave him then almost made him choke with happiness. She was just too nice.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes," he said soothingly.

Convinced, she lay back down on him and relaxed in the mellow afterglow, slowing drifting toward sleep.

He felt a little strange about this girl. It was almost as if he were actually starting to have real feelings for her. It was just a little unsettling. He didn't see how they could ever have a proper relationship anyway. He'd have to tell her everything sooner or later. The only other option was to just leave, but that seemed like such a cheap way out.

Earlier in the evening she'd mentioned that she didn't have to work the next day, and they had already arranged to spend the day together. He decided he'd tell her tomorrow.

He glanced out the window to watch the sun soar quickly into the sky and she slowly began to stir.