For the Ride

by la_revacholiere

Summary:

A dull night of chauffeuring takes an unexpected turn when Alcina Dimitrescu turns out to be your next passenger.

Notes:

what can I say except ✨️strapcina✨️

“Shit, shit, shit…”

You're late. Very late, in fact, for your next pickup. The lumbering limousine groans as you put your foot down and swear at the traffic building ahead of you. The last minute call has you sweating under the chauffeur's cap, the steering wheel slick from the moisture of your palms. This is too big a job, too important a person to let down. Above all, you need a hefty tip at the end of the night, else your rent will remain unpaid for yet another week. Your landlord is nearing the end of his patience with you.

The dashboard lights up with an incoming call.

“Where are you? She's been waiting half a bloody hour,” your manager growls, his voice made tinny by the speakerphone.

Fuck you.

“Round the corner,” you spit back, sounding your horn at a learner driver going at a snail's pace. “It's short notice, mate. I'm in a limo, not a bastard plane.”

“Just get there and grovel. Give her a discount, waive the service charge, I don't care.”

He hangs up without another word. You hit the horn again, purely out of frustration this time. With one hand you rip off your cap and snatch up a tissue from the glove box to wipe the sweat from your face. The other drivers have had dealings with this woman before, this Dimitrescu woman, and all came back looking pale and shell-shocked. Your blood had run cold when you got the order to pick her up with barely an hour's notice. You'd been on the other side of the city making a drop-off when the call came in, intending to while away the rest of your night at a bar.

“Wanker…” you mutter at the now-silent phone, but the ranting and raving doesn't serve to improve your mood at all. This is the very last thing you need, a passenger who frightens the other drivers half to death for some reason they won't disclose. Well, you won't be so easily cowed. You've transported your fair share of rich, important people in your time, so why should she be any different? In a subconsciously defiant gesture, you square your shoulders as the front of the hotel comes into view. Whoever she happens to be, whoever she thinks she is, is inconsequential. You'll do your job impeccably and be done with this disaster of a night. It can yet be salvaged into something enjoyable, once this woman is dealt with.

In a smooth manoeuvre you steer the limo up to the pavement, put your hat back in place carefully, and step out into the balmy evening warmth. A quick glance in the dark windows confirms that there's no hint of your previous dishevelment. You're ready.

Or you would be ready, if there were any sign of your passenger. You crane over the passing pedestrians, frowning. Is this the right place? It must be; you double and triple-checked on the way here, but the pavement is conspicuously absent of any well-to-do women waiting for a lift. All there is to do is wait, you conclude, with a pang of indignation. You likely set off several speed cameras rushing over here, trying not to be late, and now you're the one being made to hang around.

Stay alert, keep your posture erect. If this woman does turn up, you can't be caught slouching. With your hands behind your back you continue eyeing the pavement, the front of the hotel. In your mind you reach for clocking-off time, whenever that happens to be. You'll hit the bars and hope that your uniform and charm garner you some free drinks, a bit of fawning from the barmaids. It usually works, and is especially needed this late in the month, when your bank account hovers perilously close to empty.

You've let yourself drift so far from the present that the sound of approaching heels doesn't register until the owner is right in front of you. A small cough jolts you, and your eyes flit up. Smirking down at you is an absurdly beautiful face, all glinting white teeth and sharp angles, crimson lips and a pair of clever grey eyes. Your own face burns red-hot, and all your efforts not to look a mess were, apparently, a waste of time. Sweat begins to collect beneath your hat.

This can only be her, surely.

“Sorry, ma'am,” you stammer, straightening your back and trying to level your breathing. “I was miles away. I do apologise for being so late. Shall we?”

“What's the rush?” she drawls, still grinning wickedly. “I'm just pleased Pierce sent me a pretty one this time.”

God help me.

“Oh! Erm…”

Your lips keep moving, but no words come out. So much for keeping your head. You must look a right twat.

The woman feigns an innocent expression as you gawp like an idiot, but her eyes betray her. She's taking great pleasure in disarming you. “I'm Alcina, by the way. Shall we?”

How you even manage to regain yourself, you couldn't say. A mix of habit and muscle memory allow you to claw back some semblance of composure. You open the door and offer your hand to Alcina, who holds on a moment too long as she stoops to get into the car. As she passes close to you, there's a waft of perfume and gin trailing after her. So, she's been drinking. That goes a little way to explaining her bizarre behaviour. Nevertheless, she's safe in the back seat and you can now do your job quietly, diligently.

“Where to, ma'am?” you ask as you start up the engine, its steady rumble a comfort. Back to normality.

“The high street. I have to pick up a gift first,” Alcina says, holding you with her gaze through the rear-view mirror. “I have a date, you see, and it's rude to turn up empty-handed.”

Without another word you set off into the darkening evening. Alcina busies herself by rummaging in the backseat bar, and comes up with a miniature bottle of whiskey. All of this you see in snatched glances through the mirror, struggling to keep your eyes on the road. She's absolutely gorgeous, unbothered and haughty. But apart from a bit of cockiness, which is admittedly quite attractive, she doesn't seem all that bad. What must she have been like for the other drivers to react so strongly? Out of sheer luck, it seems, you've avoided the worst of this woman, and she's perfectly content to sit back and let you do your job.

Soon you're pulling into a street full of designer shops, lavish and utterly out of reach for the likes of you. Alcina pipes up about halfway down the road.

“Here's fine. Won't be a minute,” she announces, before draining the last of the little whiskey bottle and climbing out. Upon leaving, she slams the door carelessly. You grit your teeth and stare straight ahead until she disappears into one of the shops. Breathe, you tell yourself. Whether she's trying to needle you or is simply oblivious, there's no point letting it get to you. Ten minutes pass, then twenty, and still she doesn't emerge. Nearly forty-five minutes later, a harried young woman scurries out of the shop, laden with bags. And close on her heels, Alcina follows.

“Yes, yes, just put them down,” she tells the woman who, with some difficulty, opens the door and deposits the bags inside. Alcina dismisses her and returns to her seat, slams your door again. The urge to snap is overwhelming as you set off again, but you beat it down. You really, really need that tip later, no matter what your boss says.

“That's quite the haul,” you remark, striving for friendliness. “I hope your date likes Versace.”

“Oh, she does,” Alcina laughs lightly. “A little vulgar for me, really, but we can't all have good taste, can we?”

You make a vague noise of agreement, not wishing to state an opinion one way or another. What would you know, anyway? You've never so much as poked your head in a designer shop for fear of getting tackled by security just for being there.

“Do you mind if I make a call?”

“Not at all,” you say immediately, grateful for something that'll keep her quiet for a bit.

Alcina starts up talking into the phone in a soft, seductive voice, exchanging pleasantries full of high-pitched, false laughter. You tune it out and focus on the road ahead, but soon realise she hasn't told you where she's heading next. And she's still wittering about something or other to her date. Not ideal, you think. But it isn't the first time you've had to drive in aimless circles without knowing your destination. Some passengers are too distracted, or oftentimes too drunk, to tell you where they want to go straight away.

“Mm, yes, I've booked a suite,” Alcina says. “Why don't we skip dinner and meet there? You know I'm dying to show you what I've put on… oh, just you wait…”

The low, sultry timbre of her voice, though not directed at you, is starting to have an effect. Your breathing is shallower than it should be, and you can't help stealing glances into the rear-view mirror. Alcina is staring out of the window as she flirts on the phone, her teeth embedded in her lower lip. Then her eyes lift, catch you gazing at her. You look away hurriedly, but the damage is done. She smirks devilishly back at you.

“Mm-hmm. You, too. I'll see you then.”

Faintly you hear a woman's voice through the speaker, a sweet and feminine one, bidding Alcina goodbye.

“God,” she groans, her attention back on you. “She's lovely, but clingy. You know the type.”

“Mm,” you grunt uncomfortably. “Not sure I do, ma'am.”

“Oh, give over. They just go wild for you in that uniform, don't they?” Alcina taunts. “Cling to you at the end of the night, begging you not to go?”

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. “Now that you mention it…”

Oh, no.

She's flirting, and you're playing right into her hands. It's always been a problem, a weakness even. A good-looking woman throws you a hint, and before the consequences become apparent, you’ve already picked it up and run with it. Plus, this one is on her way to a date. Not good form to be flirting, especially not while you're on the clock.

“Well, now…” Alcina says thoughtfully. “Where shall we go, do you think?”

We?

“Wherever you'd like, ma'am,” you answer automatically. Back to professionalism, and eyes off that sinful smirk of hers in the mirror. Focus.

“Shame you're driving…” she muses. “I wouldn’t mind taking you out for a drink.”

“Aren't you on your way to a date?” you blurt out, before you can stop yourself.

Alcina doesn't answer immediately. It sounds as though she's drumming her fingernails on something, deep in contemplation.

“I don't know, am I?” she asks innocently.

For fuck's sake.

You're still driving without destination, and there's a rising alarm in the pit of your stomach, something telling you this is wrong. Should you heed it, or pick up the gauntlet she's thrown down? Quite suddenly you feel a twinge of guilt for even thinking that way. There's another woman somewhere in this city, waiting for Alcina, and here you are wondering if you ought to park the car and throw yourself at her.

The pause stretches painfully until Alcina breaks the silence. “Such a pity, I've had to cancel…” She purses her lips. Her phone screen lights up her face as she types, then goes dark. “She'll get over it.”

“Ma'am…” you begin warningly, feeling your eyes widen. The air is so thick that you could chew on it, and those eyes in the mirror are dark with untold possibilities.

“Be a good driver and find somewhere quiet to park this car,” she orders in a low, dangerous voice. The catching of your breath in your throat is audible. Your hands quiver, white-knuckled as you grip the steering wheel. Your mouth moves ahead of your brain, the response already on your lips.

“Yes, ma'am,” you whisper hoarsely.

Alcina's eyes flash smugly and she settles back down into her seat, as casual as if this were just an ordinary trip. Too late to back out now, you keep driving; and even if there were a way out of this now, you know deep down you wouldn't take it. The spot you have in mind is one you've used before, a little lay-by a short way out of the city where you're sure to be undisturbed. God, what are you thinking? What have you gotten yourself into?

Your shock still hasn't worn off. This woman has abandoned what would have likely been a very pleasant evening, all on the back of some mild flirting, stolen glances through the mirror. And for what? For a quickie with a lowly driver she's just met? Not only is she unbearably cocky, but completely impossible to work out. To cancel a date so nonchalantly and be so unruffled about it; you can't be so special as to warrant such actions. Maybe there's some kind of power trip at play here. Maybe your uniform and subordinate position sparked her interest somehow. Whatever it is, you're not about to complain or resist. There's a savage thrill about the idea of sullying one of your boss’ beloved vehicles with a quick fuck, even as you're vaguely frightened by this woman and her ways.

“Nearly there,” you murmur, half to yourself as you steer onto the motorway. Alcina makes an interrogative noise in response, then, softly, “Ah…”

The spot is secluded, and lit beautifully by the setting sun. From here you can see the hills that cup the city between them, their slopes bathed in orange light. Alcina hums appreciatively at the sight, then falls silent as you kill the engine. What now? She makes no move, and nor do you. The tension is deadly, hanging in the air like a threat, a challenge. Misgivings begin to creep in. Is this such a good idea after all? Yes, you've had the odd fumble in the back of the limousine before. But never like this, never with someone like Alcina.

“Are you going to come back here, or do I have to come and get you myself?”

“No, ma'am.”

Out of the driver's seat you climb, and gulp down a few welcome lungfuls of fresh air. Steady now. This is fine, this is totally fine. You're increasingly alive to the state of your body; a thumping in your chest and between your legs, a sheen of sweat on your forehead and palms. In a daze, you take the few short strides to the back door, and open it to find those sharp grey eyes trained on you, and the mess of shopping bags shoved unceremoniously to one side.

Alcina sits cross-legged, illuminated from below by the blue interior lights, half of her face cast in shadow. For the first time you see her fully, immaculate in a pair of pinstriped trousers and dark blouse. Not one shining black curl out of place. Once you've shut this door, that's it. No going back. Her gaze emits a challenge, one you could so easily refuse, climb back into the front and pretend this never happened.

But you're nothing if not disastrously impulsive, and proud to boot. No, you won't back down. You set your jaw and step into the spacious back of the vehicle, then set yourself down in the seat opposite Alcina. She smirks faintly as her eyes rove over you, and wordlessly crooks a finger, beckoning.

You stay put. “Why don't you come over here, then?” For all that you've done as you're told thus far, you have to make some sort of stand. You're not about to roll over and let her dictate this.

One of her arched eyebrows shoots up, and her smile grows. “And here I thought you'd be good. Well, never mind… I can always un-cancel my date-”

“Wait.” You squeeze your eyes shut, grimacing. “Fine. Fine. Where do you want me… ma'am?”

Suppressed laughter weighs down Alcina's next words. “Come and sit beside me. And take off that jacket while you're at it.”

Scowling, you undo the three buttons holding the blazer closed and shrug it off, closely followed by your hat. You're beyond grateful you haven't perspired right through your white shirt already. The knot of your tie is tight at your throat, the thud of your pulse rapid beneath it.

“Take down that pretty hair of yours,” murmurs Alcina, and you could swear her breathing has quickened as she watches. You slide off the flimsy hair tie and your hair tumbles down over your shoulders. The more you give in to her, the higher your anticipation swells; those long, fine hands of hers are waiting to get hold of you. Without further prompting, you drop into the seat next to her, still a good distance away, and wait. It's torture.

“I had a surprise for my date,” Alcina whispers. “But I think it's much better spent on you.”

You stare, transfixed, as she uncrosses her legs. One of her hands moves slowly down the front of her blouse, over the waistband of her trousers. Then her slender fingers grasp at something beneath her left trouser leg, something bulging beneath the crisp fabric. Involuntarily, you take in a sharp breath. No fucking way. The long shape snakes down her thigh, and she rubs a thumb over it tauntingly.

“Do you want it?”

You nod mutely. All of your nerves are alive, tingling. Your fingers find your tie and loosen it, allowing you to breathe more freely, and next are the top few buttons of your shirt. Alcina is busy unclasping her trousers at a languid pace, and you begin to see dark leather straps tight around her hips. You're wet already; you can feel it between your legs, uncomfortable and demanding.

The toy slips free of the confines of Alcina's trousers, and springs up lewdly between her hips. It’s obscenely pink, a neon shade that seems to emit its own ridiculous light. And then she starts stroking it, and none of this is ridiculous anymore. You're panting, saliva pooling in your mouth.

“Come here.”

You slide over the seat until you're nose to nose with her, your eyes constantly flitting down to the way she's stroking herself. Her other hand finds your jaw and she pulls your attention away with a kiss, the whiskey still sharp on her lips and tongue. She doesn't let it last long before pushing you away impatiently, breathing harshly through her nose. A mere flick of her eyes down to your rumpled clothing is enough of an order. You make short work of your shirt and trousers, your leather laced shoes clattering as you kick them away.

“All of it,” Alcina huffs, displeased by the fact you haven't stripped fully. You obey, but she makes no move to undress herself, just keeps running her hands over the pink cock between her legs. She sits back expectantly.

“Erm… I've no lube,” you blurt out stupidly, intimidated by the length and thickness.

At this, Alcina grins wickedly again, the points of her canines glinting. “Nor do I.” She reaches over to thumb your lower lip. “But that won't be a problem, will it?”

Another challenge, one you're only too happy to take up. Keeping your eyes on hers, you slide off your seat and onto the floor between her open legs.

“Good,” she breathes. “So good. Now, open.”

She threads a hand into your hair and guides you, open-mouthed, to take the toy between your lips. Your jaw is stretched, aching already, the taste of silicone unpleasant. You manage about half before it hits the back of your throat, then begin to draw back. But Alcina has other ideas. Her hand spread over the back of your skull, she keeps you in place and thrusts her hips upwards. You gag; she groans softly.

“That’s it… aren't you doing well?”

All you can do is hum in response as she fucks your mouth, her breathing growing more ragged, your spit coating the silicone. Pushed to your limits, you give a tug on her trouser leg, and she finally lets you go. You come up gasping, your lips swollen.

“Is that… wet enough?” you choke out, thumbing a streak of spit from your chin.

“Fuck,” she mutters, just a little bit discomposed. “Yes…”

Taking advantage of this momentary lapse, you pull on her trousers until they pool at her ankles, then climb astride her lap. She leans back, her eyes glazed over with lust. With no further preamble, you position yourself and start to ease down onto her length. Your head is swimming, your thoughts reduced to only what you can feel; Alcina's hands finding the flesh of your hips, drawing herself further into you, her cock seated deep inside.

“God,” you whimper as your cunt throbs around it, and an agonising pleasure blossoms in the pit of your stomach. “Your poor date…”

Alcina breathes a humourless laugh beneath you.

“I'll make it up to her. You, on the other hand…” She starts to roll her hips, and it's fucking incredible. “You can shut up and ride me.”

The taunt has exactly the intended effect. You plant your hands on her shoulders and lift yourself, then ease down slowly, letting her see her cock slide back in. A moan builds in your throat as you repeat the motion, and Alcina's painted fingernails sink into your hips. She bucks up into you, gently at first, then with increasing force. You grind your hips down to meet her, gasping and trembling. Alcina's lips part; her eyes are fixed on you, seeming almost mesmerised by the sight of you writhing on top of her.

“You're fucking gorgeous,” you manage through your laboured breaths. “God, that's good…”

“Let me,” she says, and shifts her grip so that she can drive up into you freely, her pace unrelenting. You reach up to grasp the interior handle, holding yourself aloft to let her do the work. With each snap of her hips the pressure inside you builds until you're moaning without restraint. Alcina pants quietly, her face taut with exertion and arousal. You're close, so very close, and the next thing you do isn't a choice, but a wild impulse.

You wrap your free hand around Alcina's throat, applying pressure, and this seems to send her into some kind of frenzy. Something between a growl and a moan leaves her, then she's fucking you into oblivion. Your eyes roll back into your head.

“Fuck - oh, God - that's it, please…”

Incoherent, you come so hard that your vision fails, and your senses are reduced to the sublime feeling of Alcina's cock, the sound of her breathing and whispered encouragements. She slows to a stop as you wind your way back down to earth, gasping intermittently. Your thighs shake with the labour of keeping you in position. Not without difficulty you ease yourself from Alcina's lap and all but collapse in the seat beside her.

“Oh, dear,” she says, amused. “Made a mess of you, have I?”

“Shut up…” you mumble, then realise your mistake. “Shit. Sorry. Forgot who you were for a sec.”

Alcina snorts and tucks the cock back into her trousers, no mind given to what's smeared all over it. “Behave. I've just fucked you, don’t bother with the prim and proper act now.”

“Fair point,” you smile weakly. “Just… bear with me, I'll get dressed and drive, but I need a minute.”

She considers this as she straightens her clothing, looking no more dishevelled than if she'd been on a stroll in the park. Conversely, you're a mess, mildly embarrassed at what she's reduced you to.

“How hard is it to drive a limo?” she asks casually. “Different from a car?”

You open one eye and squint at her. “Hard for me to say, I'm used to it. Don't tell me you're thinking… no, don't you bloody dare-”

Before you can do anything she's getting out of the car, then dropping into the front seat with an infuriating grin on her face. You swear under your breath and hurry to retrieve your scattered clothing, much too late. She's steering the vehicle out of the lay-by with surprising skill, and you hear the telltale click of the interior locks, stopping you from stopping her.

“Fuck's sake,” you mutter. “Having fun, are we?”

“Tons,” Alcina laughs. “This is child's play. I could do this all day.”

She's mental, you conclude. But she seems safe enough on the motorway, suitably cautious on the mercifully quiet road. At least, you don't feel in imminent danger of dying in a blaze of flames and wreckage.

“Where we going, driver?” you ask warily.

Alcina hums. “Well, I've still got that suite booked…”

You perk up as you knot your tie back into place, intrigued. “Oh, yeah?”

“And I'd so hate to have all that space, all that champagne to myself,” she muses. “I'd counted on having company tonight, you see.”

Your mind returns to that poor date of hers, left high and dry in favour of a fuck in the back of your vehicle. Was it shitty of you? Probably, but it's done now. But taking the woman's place at Alcina’s suite feels like taking things a bit too far.

“I dunno,” you mumble with a hint of shame. “Feels a bit, I dunno. Wrong.”

“Listen, that date of mine…” Alcina says. “She's just as bad as me. She'll have found someone else to spend the night with, no doubt. There'll be no hard feelings, I can assure you of that. Your choice.”

Whether it's true or not, all you can do is take her at her word. Besides, it would be a shame to end the night here.

“Well then, cabbie,” you grin sheepishly. “Take me there, then.”

Her eyes catch yours in the mirror, the shadow of a wink. You sit back and let her drive, knowing the night is still young and wondering what else this cocky, maddening woman has in store. It seems you've just found a new perk of the job.

Notes:

I've been having a lil break (life threw me some Curveballs™️) and thought this bit of silly, dirty fun would be a good way to ease back into things! I couldn't stop thinking about Alcina packing That Thang just casually and this is the result

Hope you had fun cause I sure did! Thanks so much for reading <3