Bombay Taxi

It was in the summer of 2011. In the sweltering May heat of Mumbai, we found ourselves in the back of our taxi driving down Marine Drive, the city's most famous promenade. In a country where sex is considered taboo despite having 1.2 billion people, we felt liberated in trying to push the boundaries of sexual relationships. With our mutual friend dozing off on one end of the back seats and me in the middle, I daringly lifted the edge of my girlfriends skirt, revealing her white laced thong. After quickly glancing over to confirm that our friend was still asleep, I nervously parted her thong to one side, exposing her freshly shaved cunt, flushed red with the flow of blood to the area and glistening with wetness in anticipation of what was to follow. I parted her lips with my fingers to expose her bulging clit, gently teasing it with soft, circular movements. Sliding my middle finger deep inside her wet cunt, she bit her lips to contain her moaning. With my finger curled upward pleasuring her g spot, I could feel her muscles tensing up. Knowing that her friend could wake up any second and catch us in our dirty, satisfying exhibitionist act, she tried to contain her moaning. She couldn't. The sense of impending danger only amplified her pleasure as she let out a few loud moans. As she began to cum, her pulsations cause her to writhe in pleasure, I noticed from the corner of my eye the taxi driver's smirk in the rear-view mirror. Surely he witnessed the episode in 4K clarity. At that point, neither of us minded. Her moaning subsided; her heart rate began to normalise. As my friend woke up, none the wiser, I tasted my fingers to enjoy the fruits of my exploits. Needless to say, it was a taxi ride I will not forget any time soon.