Emile Bosch - Beverly Hills vixens

"It certainly didn't hamper your performance with me," Debbie said.

Finally, the spurting cock began to slow down, and Debbie used this time to give his cock a good tongue-cleaning.

"Now," said Debbie, "I know why we're called the Wildcats."

And so while Debbie had been having quite an active sex life in college, she still yearned for her chauffeur, but he never seem to pay her much attention – until her graduation.

"Are you going to get me something for my graduation," she asked James on their last trip together to the college.

"Of course," he said. "Have you gotten it yet?"

"Well, no, not yet," admitted James. "I was hoping your mother might tell me what you needed."

"I'll tell you what I need," said Debbie. "Oh, okay," said James.

"I need… to see your dick."

"Madam?"

"I want to see your dick," said Debbie. "Now that I'm about to graduate, I want to see what a naked man looks like."

"You've never…"

"Of course not."

Of course James knew Debbie was pulling his dick, her, leg. He had beard stories from his fellow chauffeurs who drove various male members to the college. The young men often told their chauffeurs about their nights of wine and pussy. And more often the two names most frequently mentioned were a famous French wine and Debbie Dimitri, or, as the guys often called her, Debbie Delirious.

"Well," said James, "if that's all you want."

"That's all," said Debbie. "I promise."

"Let me think about it," said James.

Actually, for some time; James had been thinking about it. Every morning he'd see Debbie enter his car in some state of undress, pullig on her dress, combing her hair – she ways slept until the last moment, usually because she had spent most of the night with some boy – and once she even came out in a sheer nightgown and dressed in the back of the limousine while he drove her to college.

On the night of her graduation, Debbie went to a large ball for all the rich kids who had played through four years of college and were now about to embark upon a career in their father's business.

James, of course, drove Debbie to the affair. He waited in the limousine throughout the night, fully expecting to be sent home alone when Debbie picked up one of the young college studs. That was why he was so surprised when she came out of the ballroom alone.

"Home, James," she said.

She climbed into the front seat of the limousine beside him.

As he took off down the street, Debbie scooted closer to him on the seat. She lay her hand right on his crotch.

"Better fasten your seat belt," she said to him, "you're going to give me my graduation present."

"Not now," James protested.

"Oh, yes," said Debbie. "Now."

She unzipped James pants, stuck in her hand and brought it back out with a large flopping dick in her hand. It was large and growing larger right before her eyes. When it surpassed the mark of all other dicks she had seen, she screamed with delight.

"Oh, James, James! You've been driving me around all these years with that in your pocket."

"The better to service you with," said James.

"And how," said Debbie just before she opened her mouth and stuffed in his dick.

"Oohh," she cried. She never thought she'd ever have the chance to suck James' dick. It almost made going to college worthwhile. James had always seemed so reserve to her, but she knew no man could resist her charms for long.

James kept one hand on the steering wheel and another on the back of Debbie's head, pressing her down against his cock.

"Yeah, that's it," he began to growl. "Suck on it, you little tart."

"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Debbie. "Talk dirty to me. Please."

"Get it nice and big and hard," said James. "Because then I'm going to fuck that pussy of yours summa cum laude."

"Ah, yes, James, please. Fuck me."

"When I fuck you, I'm going to make it a fuck you'll never remember."

"I know you will, I know you will," murmured Debbie, licking his long shaft.

"And so, here it goes."

Until then, James had been driving through the side streets of Beverly Hills. He then, had turned down Wilshire Boulevard and drove through Westwood, the college town of UCLA. He took the Wilshire ramp onto the San Diego Freeway.

"Now," he said, "we fuck."

Debbie looked up from James' dick and saw that they were on the freeway. James was going faster and faster, but the limousine was so heavy, the speed was scarcely noticeable.

Debbie rolled down her window and hot air blew in. James inserted a cassette into the tape deck. The music was very hard. He turned up the volume.

"How fast can this limo go?" shouted Debbie above the blowing wind.

"Fast," said James.

"How fast?"

"More than that," said James, pointing to the end of the speedometer.

"Ever, been that fast?"

"Yeah." James stepped on the gas and knocked the college graduate against the back of the limo seat. The engine was finely tuned and strong.

"You've always liked being a chauffeur, haven't you?" said Debbie.

"I like cars."

Debbie bit James on the ear. "How fast are we going?"

"Seventy."

"I love going fast."

She unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. Her lips pulled at the hair on his chest. Her hand massaged his long dong. The speedometer read eighty-five. The rear view mirror was empty.

Debbie untied the top of her graduation dress. Her big boobs plopped out, with their big red nipples pointed right at James. He reached over and squeezed one.

"Oh, James."

Debbie crawled across James' lap, straddling him. He leaned forward and sucked on her tits while keeping his eyes on the road. His left hand moved from the steering wheel and fondled her breasts. Debbie hiked up her dress around her waist, ripped her blue panties apart and pulled them through her legs.

She moaned and fell forward on his chest as his dick crammed up her tightly pussy. The speedometer read ninety-five. His hand wandered from her breasts, down her back and kneaded her firm, moist buttocks. She rode his dick up and down, her breasts quivering with each movement.

There were a few cars in the distance, but the limousine took head on them and overtook them one by one, swooping past each one, leaving it behind in the blank darkness.

Debbie ripped open the rest of James' shirt. Buttons shot against the windshield. She pushed her tits into his mouth and he sucked with vigor.

"Oh, James, suck my tits, suck 'em."

James sucked and sucked, keeping his eyes over her shoulder to watch the freeway.

The speedometer hit a hundred. She bit his shoulder. Saliva dribbled down his back. Debbie's hair whipped about him in all directions.

Panting and whining, she cried out, tightening her body around him and shaking furiously.

"Oh, James, fuck! Fuck me."

She arched her back until her head bounced against the steering wheel. She closed her eyes. Her mouth hung open, hungry, as it were, for more dick. Coming down hard on his thighs, riding his prick like a cowgirl, she jammed his foot against the accelerator.

The speedometer bounced past a hundred and five. The limousine whistled and shook down the freeway. The music on the cassette player grew louder. The speakers rattled and fuzzed.

James drove his dick deeper up Debbie's twat. She bit his neck, his lips, licked his face, his eyes, inside his ears. He lifted his hips and raised her in the air. She pushed her pussy down against him.

James maneuvered past a covey of cars. The freeway was clear now, all theirs, extending in a straight line beneath the freeway lamps all the way to the hills.

"Oh, God, God," she wept. "I'm going to split."

Her body shook and quaked. James body stiffened and pounded against her, harder and harder, jerking back and forth in a convulsive fit, until, at a hundred and ten miles per hour, he shot his wad into Debbie's pussy.