What the Taxi Driver Saw in the Rearview Mirror That Night

Tomás had spent years cultivating a very particular kind of relationship: no labels, no long-term promises. He dated several girls at once, they all knew about the others, and that arrangement had saved him from more than one drama. Among them was Camila, a short brunette with enormous eyes and an easy laugh, whom he’d been seeing for more than a year, and with whom he shared a very specific fetish: being watched.

It wasn’t pure exhibitionism. It was the strange, specific pleasure of knowing that someone, from far away, was looking without permission. And on that, the two of them agreed like they agreed on very few other things.

That night Camila had arranged to stop by Tomás’s place after work. The idea was simple: a movie, two glasses of wine, and, at some point in the early hours, they’d end up the only way they usually ended up: on all fours, with him fucking her until she had no voice left. But Tomás liked to raise the stakes. He always gave her a challenge.

—Tonight you’re coming without underwear —he had texted her that morning—. Dress or skirt, whatever you prefer. If someone sees something, all the better for him.

Camila reread the message in the office bathroom mirror. She smiled. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her for something like that, but it still gave her that delicious lurch in the stomach. She felt her cunt moisten right there, leaning against the sink, just imagining the scene.

When she got home, she chose a short black dress that ended a hand’s breadth above her knees, with a V-neck that left the upper part of her breasts on display. Over it she put on a long coat that covered exactly the same as the dress, not a centimeter more. She applied her makeup carefully: discreet red lipstick, defined eyes. She scented herself behind the ears, on the wrists and, almost without thinking, also between her thighs, sliding a finger over the lips of her shaved cunt, already feeling wet before she left.

She called her usual cab. Don Aníbal, a man of about fifty-something, a neighbor from the same district, who worked only nights. She’d known him for a couple of years: he took her when she got off work late, when she was coming back from a party or when, like this time, she was heading to Tomás’s place. Her family knew him by sight, he was trustworthy. That’s why she called him.

The car arrived on time. Camila came down to the door, wrapped up to the neck, and got in the back, as always.

—Good evening, Camilita —said Don Aníbal through the mirror—. The usual?

—The usual —she replied, crossing her legs very carefully—. Thanks.

The taxi pulled away. The conversation started itself: the weather, work, Don Aníbal’s niece who was about to get married. Camila answered on autopilot, paying attention to the lights passing by the window, until she felt her phone vibrate inside her bag. She had left it beside her on the seat. It was Tomás.

She leaned over to reach it. A tiny, careless movement, the kind any woman makes a thousand times a day without thinking. But the dress was short and she was wearing no underwear, and as she stretched, her legs opened by just a couple of centimeters. Enough.

She noticed it in the mirror. Don Aníbal had moved the rearview mirror. Not much. Just a tiny adjustment with two fingers, like someone shifting something unimportant. But now it was pointed lower. Not at her face.

—Hello —she answered, pretending not to have noticed anything.

—Are you already in the cab? —Tomás asked from the other end.

—Yes, I’m on my way.

—Has he seen your cunt yet?

Camila bit her lip. She looked at the mirror again, almost sidelong. Don Aníbal’s eyes were fixed on the road. Too fixed, like someone trying very hard to look as if he isn’t looking at what he is looking at.

—I don’t think so —she said at first, but then the mirror shifted again, a millimeter lower—. Wait. Yes. Yes, he has now.

On the other end there was a short, dense silence. When Tomás spoke again, his voice sounded a shade deeper.

—Spread your legs. Let him see everything. Get the old man’s cock hard. And when you get here I’m going to fuck you while thinking about that.

Camila let out a soft laugh. She felt her cunt tighten just from hearing him. She didn’t answer.

—See you in a bit —she murmured, and hung up.

***

The taxi’s silence became something else. Don Aníbal cleared his throat, looking for a topic.

—So tell me, Camilita, is it cold outside? The taxi window always deceives you.

—Quite a bit —she replied.

And while she spoke, as if she needed to get comfortable, she uncrossed her legs and shifted in the seat. This time it was deliberate. Slow. Her knees separated much more than any careless movement could justify, and the hem of the dress rode up another couple of centimeters with the motion. Camila rested her head against the seat back and looked out the window, as if this were the most comfortable position in the world. Under the dress, her cunt was left completely exposed, the lips already swollen and parted, glistening.

The mirror moved again. Don Aníbal adjusted it with his fingers, pretended to check the traffic behind him, but his gaze returned immediately to the space between her legs. And there he found it: no underwear, the skin completely shaved, pale, lit at intervals by the streetlights passing over the car. The swollen clit peeking out between the lips like a small pink pearl, the cunt opening and closing just slightly with her breathing.

Camila felt it. She felt the gaze the way you feel someone’s breath very close to the nape of your neck. And like every time someone looked at her like that, without permission but also without her objecting, her body responded before her mind did. A faint heat between her thighs. A little moisture at first, then more. A trickle of fluid began to run down the crease of her ass, soaking the seat beneath her.

Every time they passed under a streetlight, the beam lit up her naked sex for half a second. And every time, the wetness shone a little brighter. Don Aníbal saw it. Camila knew he saw it. And she didn’t close her legs. On the contrary: she lowered one hand to her thigh, as if absentmindedly, and with the tip of her index finger she brushed one of her cunt lips. Just a touch. Then she brought her hand up to the dress and wiped it slowly, knowing he was watching her in the mirror with his mouth slightly open.

—Would you mind if I opened the window a bit? —she murmured—. I’m getting hot.

—No, no… not at all —Don Aníbal replied, his voice thick.

Camila brought her fingers to the neckline and tugged the fabric downward, as if looking for air. The dress gave way completely and one breast spilled out, the dark, hard nipple pointing at the mirror. She acted as if she didn’t notice. She adjusted it slowly, pinching the nipple between two fingers as she tucked it back in, a gesture that lasted longer than necessary.

The car kept on through the avenue, traffic light after traffic light. Don Aníbal spoke less and less. He cleared his throat more. At some point he took one hand off the wheel; Camila caught a glimpse in the reflection of how he adjusted the hard bulge beneath his trousers, pressing it with his palm, unable to hide it. His cock showed pale against the fabric, thick, bent to one side. That was enough for her, along with the heavy silence that had settled in the car.

Let him look all he wants, she thought, opening her legs a little wider. Let him grab it. Let him remember my cunt when he gets home and jerk off thinking about me.

***

Three blocks to go. Don Aníbal said it in a low voice, almost with regret:

—We’re almost there.

—What a shame —she replied, without really thinking.

The silence that followed was different. It was a silence that recognized what was happening without daring to name it.

The taxi stopped in front of Tomás’s building. Camila took her bag, pulled out a bill, and leaned forward, between the two front seats, to hand it over. Her coat opened. The neckline of the dress fell away with the lean and, instead of the third of her breasts that was normally visible, Don Aníbal had a full view of both breasts: small, firm, with dark nipples hard from the cold and from everything else.

Camila stayed like that longer than necessary. She held out the bill and waited for the change without moving, looking him in the eyes. Don Aníbal counted the coins with fingers that trembled only slightly, but they trembled. He gave them back. His fingers brushed hers a second longer than they should have. She lowered her eyes for a moment and saw the dark stain in the old man’s trousers, where the tip of his cock had gotten wet from trying to hold back.

—Thank you —Camila said, in a low voice unlike her earlier one.

—You’re welcome, Camilita.

She straightened slowly. Before opening the door, she settled herself in the seat, and as she did so she spread her legs all the way, with no pretense left, looking straight at the mirror. This time Don Aníbal didn’t bother to hide it. He turned in his seat, half his body toward the back, and fixed his gaze on her open cunt. The taxi’s interior light, which had come on when she placed her hand on the handle, let everything be seen with a clarity that left no room for doubt: the parted lips, glistening, the peeking clit, the pink hole of the soaked cunt, a tiny drop slowly slipping toward her ass.

Camila ran two fingers along her slit, slowly, from top to bottom, gathering the fluid. She brought them to her mouth and sucked them while looking at him. Don Aníbal let out a rough sound from his throat, as if he’d choked.

Camila got out of the car. She closed the door unhurriedly. Then she walked to the passenger-side window, bent down, and tapped the glass with her knuckles. Don Aníbal rolled the window down.

—Good night —she said, and her neckline opened again with the lean, showing her full tits once more, hanging forward, the hard nipples a hand’s breadth from his face.

—Good… good night —he stammered, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring straight at her breasts. One hand was in his lap, gripping his cock through his pants.

Camila smiled, straightened up, and walked toward the building entrance swaying her ass more than necessary. Behind her, the taxi took a long while to pull away.

***

Tomás was waiting by the door, leaning against the frame, with a smile that said he’d been there for a while. He watched her approach, saw the blush on her cheeks, saw that she had opened her coat enough for him to notice her nipples outlined through the fabric of the dress.

—How he left you —he murmured when she reached him.

Camila didn’t answer with words. She slid a hand around his neck, kissed him on the mouth with an intensity that was almost violence, shoving her tongue deep into his mouth, and while she kissed him she slid her other hand down between his legs. She found him hard beneath his pants, his cock swollen and throbbing against her palm. She squeezed him through the fabric, measuring him, and smiled against his lips.

—We’re going in —she said softly—. I’ll tell you everything. In detail. While you fuck me all the way to the back.

Tomás opened the door without letting her go. Inside, before closing it, Camila leaned out for one second toward the street. Don Aníbal’s taxi was still parked in the same spot. The interior lights were off. The driver’s silhouette sat motionless at the wheel, except for the repeated, frantic movement of his right arm over his lap.

She smiled. Closed the door.

Tomás didn’t let her make it to the sofa. He grabbed her by the hair as soon as the door shut, shoved her against the hallway wall, and yanked her dress up to her waist. He shoved two fingers into her cunt at once, all the way to the knuckles, and Camila moaned loudly against his mouth as she felt him open her up.

—You’re soaked, you little whore —he told her in her ear, moving his fingers inside her hard, pulling them out and pushing them back in with a wet sound that could be heard all down the hall—. Dripping. Did the old man do all this to you?

—All of it —she panted—. He was watching my cunt in the mirror. The whole ride. He got his cock hard. I saw the stain on his pants.

Tomás growled and bit her neck. He pulled his soaked fingers out of her cunt and put them in her mouth. Camila sucked them clean, tasting herself, looking him in the eyes as she licked each one in turn.

—On your knees —he ordered.

Camila let herself fall to the floor without taking her eyes off him. She undid his belt with both hands, yanked down his pants and boxers, and Tomás’s cock jumped into her face, hard, swollen, with a drop of pre-cum at the tip. Camila stuck out her tongue and gathered it up slowly. Then she took it all into her mouth, all the way in, feeling it hit the back of her throat.

—Like that, like that, suck it all —Tomás panted, grabbing her hair with both hands and starting to fuck her mouth at the rhythm he wanted.

Camila let him use her. Her eyes filled with tears from the gagging, saliva ran down her chin to her tits, but she didn’t stop. She grabbed his balls with one hand and squeezed them slowly while she kept sucking. With her other hand she moved down to her cunt and started rubbing her clit, moaning around the cock in her mouth.

—Enough, I’m about to come —he said, yanking it out suddenly—. I want to fuck you first.

He pulled her up by the hair, turned her against the wall, and opened her legs with his knee. He grabbed her hips and drove his cock into her cunt in one thrust, all the way. Camila screamed, arching her back, bracing her hands against the wall so she wouldn’t fall.

—Yes, like that, fuck me hard —she begged—. As if you were him. As if the cab driver had gotten in with me.

Tomás grabbed her hair with one hand and her hip with the other, and started fucking her with everything he had, driving into her with hard thrusts that made her ass slam against his pelvis with a wet, rhythmic sound. Every time he buried himself to the hilt, Camila let out a rough moan.

—Tell me —he panted without stopping—. Tell me what you showed him.

—Everything… I showed him everything —she moaned between thrusts—. I opened my legs all the way… showed him my cunt wide open… showed him my tits when I bent over… he was gripping his cock on the wheel… ah, like that, harder… he was holding it and looking at me…

Tomás growled and pulled her away from the wall. He shoved her onto the living room sofa, put her on all fours over the cushions, and shoved his cock into her from behind again, grabbing her hips with both hands. He slapped her hard on the ass, leaving a red mark on her white cheek.

—Whore —he told her—. Teasing little whore. You got the old man hard and now you come to cash in on me.

—Yes… I’m your whore… your little whore… fuck me more… —Camila panted with her face against the cushions, ass high in the air, letting herself be fucked at an ever more brutal pace.

Tomás wet his thumb in the fluid dripping from her cunt and pressed it against her ass, pushing slowly until it went all the way in. Camila screamed and pushed herself against him.

—You’re going to make me come like this —she moaned—, with your cock in my cunt and your finger in my ass, you’re going to make me come…

Tomás sped up. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, and hammered into her with all his strength, thrust after thrust, without stopping. Camila began to tremble all over, her cunt tightening around his cock like a fist, and she came screaming into the cushions, spasms shaking her hips and soaking her thighs and his pants.

—Inside… come inside… —she begged, still trembling.

Tomás growled, gripped her hips hard, and came in gushes inside her cunt, driving himself to the hilt with each spurt of semen, filling her up. They stayed like that for a few seconds, panting, him on top of her, his cock still buried and throbbing inside.

When Tomás finally pulled out, a thick stream of cum began to run down Camila’s thighs, slowly dripping onto the sofa. She rolled onto her back, legs open, and ran two fingers through her soaked cunt. She put them in her mouth and sucked them slowly, looking at him.

—Next time —she murmured, still out of breath—, next time I’ll call the same cab. And I’ll let him come up.

Tomás smiled, sank down beside her, and bit one of her nipples. Neither of them said anything else. No need.