Free Stephanie's Revenge by Susanna Hughes

the cat-suit.
    It was only
when she saw the driver's eyes in the rear-view mirror, watching
her, that she became conscious of what she was doing. She realised
too, that she had been making little whimpering noises, as her
fingers worked on her sex. She didn't stop. Under her fingers she
could feel her labia were swollen and hot, her clitoris hard and
throbbing. The cat-suit was wet between her legs.
    The glass
partition in the Silver Wraith, between passenger and driver, was
half raised already. Stephanie pressed the small black button to
wind it up the rest of the way. It slid closed with a satisfying
clunk.
    Her other hand
had not stopped working between her legs. Her need was urgent now.
There was no way she could get at herself without taking the
cat-suit off completely. With her free hand, she clawed at her
breasts, finding her nipples and pinching them hard. She moaned.
The sound of her own voice surprised her. It sounded deep, so
excited, so like the many times she had moaned with exquisite
pleasure at the hands of a woman or a man or both.
    She shucked
herself out of the fur and put it on the seat beside her. Then she
pulled the long zip of the cat-suit that ran from her neck to the
small of her back. For a second, she hesitated. She could see the
driver's eyes beneath the peak of his cap. They stared intensely in
the rear-view mirror. The back of the car was dark, but passing
street lights illuminated the back seat like a spotlight switched
on and off in rapid succession.
    She decided
she didn't care. Her need was too urgent. If they hadn't been
winding their way through suburban streets, she might well have got
the driver to stop and fuck her. She pulled the cat-suit off her
shoulders, levered her backside up off the seat by arching her
back, and pulled it down to her knees. Quickly, she unzipped the
boots, and pulled them and the cat-suit off her legs. She was
naked. The clinging material would have shown the line of even the
smallest G-string, so she had worn no underwear.
    Her nakedness
doubled her excitement. She writhed around on the leather seat
enjoying the freedom. With enormous relief, her hand found her
uncovered labia. She put one foot up on the seat beside her and let
her fingers delve into her cunt. She moaned again as she pushed
them home, deep into the silky black cavern of her cunt. It was
soaking wet, running with her juices.
    Her other hand
kneaded her breast almost viciously, wanting to milk it of
sensation. She could see the driver's eyes. They were stationary at
a traffic light, and the light from a street lamp spilled into the
back of the car. She knew he could see her fingers pushing
rhythmically between her thick labia, in the middle of her black
public hair spread out over her belly like a rug. She wanted him to
see. She arched herself off the seat, pointing her cunt at his eyes
in the mirror.
    The traffic
lights changed. She felt the car move forward, then slow and stop.
The driver had parked in a side street, directly under a street
lamp. He turned the car engine off but did not look round. Looking
round was not allowed, he knew. He had to make do with the
mirror.
    People were
walking on the pavements, voices calling to each other, talking in
rapid Italian. The driver adjusted the rear-view mirror, angling it
down. A man and a woman peered in through the blackened windows,
trying to see who was inside. They could see nothing but their own
reflection, and moved on.
    Stephanie was
beyond the point of no return. Her body ached for its release,
every nerve taut and ready. She stopped using her fingers in
imitation of a cock, and moved them up to hold the flesh of her
labia open, stretched open so that her clitoris, the little pink
bud of her clitoris, was completely exposed. Then, taking her hand
from her breast, she snaked it down until the tip of one finger
rested on the centre of her passions. For a moment she teased
herself, making no movement. Then she tapped the clitoris with