Seanday Reloaded: The Pickup Line

It was 3am on Saturday, and I was checking in with my favourite cab service.

“London Cabs, how can I help,“ a voice chirped.

I recognised the voice. “Hi Tony, it’s Chris,” I grinned.

“Oh hi mate, you up for a deal? We’ve got a couple of good candidates tonight--from the same nightclub,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, send over the pictures of what you’ve got.”

“Actually Chris, one of the guys have just picked up a guy and I think he’s right up your street.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we picked up the club’s DJ—Cameron Davies?”

“Fuck you’re kidding, he’s loaded,” I gasped.

There’s a chuckle from the other end of the phone. “So I can send his cab over to pick you up then?”

“Hell YES!”

I pulled on some sweats, and made my way to the pickup point. It wasn’t long before before a black cab rolled up and stopped. The drivers window slid open, “Chris?” the driver asked.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I replied as the door locks popped open. I climbed into the back of the cab and almost immediately tented my sweats. There was Cameron Davies, a twenty-three year old millionaire that had the worlds nightclubs begging for sessions, and tonight he could be mine.



The partition window inside the cab dropped. “You’re a lucky guy, Cameron usually has his own driver to pick him up but he told me he’d broken down,” snorted the driver.

I gently rubbed the back of my hand against his stubble. “He’s out right?” I asked.

“Yeah, took a face full of knockout. He’ll be out for a couple of hours.”

I pushed his head up and it dropped back to the headrest; I admired his handsome face, strong angular jaw line and black meticulously styled hair. “Perfect,” I mumbled under my breath.

“I’ll leave you to your business, give me a shout if you need anything,” the driver replied as the partition window closed again. With a jolt I felt the cab pull away, there was another clunk as the doors locked. With a grin on my face I flicked a switch on the armrest and all the windows blacked out—my privacy guaranteed.

Gingerly I started to peel away the layers of clothes he was wearing, the designer burgundy knitwear; the tight black v-neck shirt, still slightly damp from the nightclub. I placed a palm on his tight plate like pecs feeling the gently rise and fall with every breath he took—I shivered with excitement,

I tugged off his shoes and socks, and took a guilty sniff. Damn the musky damp odour sparked excitement in my head as I looked over my new toy. With a snap, his belt came away and I was eagerly unzipped at his trousers. I stopped and took a deep breath and slowly pulled them down revealing a coating of dark hair that his legs, I wondered if he shaved his pecs as I pulled his underwear—I rolled my eyes, it was a beautiful sight—thick and long nestling in a carefully trimmed bush.

With a gulp I quickly shucked by own clothes throwing them into the corner of the cab, gently I lowered myself onto Cameron’s lap, I felt his dick stiffen and bob as my own rested on his shaft. Carefully I aligned my legs over his, and laid back; this time I felt the light stubble on his pecs against my back. I checked left and right as I placed my arms and hands over this muscular biceps, the blond hairs on my arms contrasting against the dark ones on his.

Slowly I started to synchronise my breathing with his; deep, heavy breaths more than I’m normally used too and it was only a minute or so before I was getting light headed. I took a couple more breaths and my head slipped backwards into darkness.

Darkness… Then I jolted awake with a groan and felt my abs tighten as a plume of cream shot across the cab, I groaned again and looked down at the thick tool that was now mine bob as another stream hit the back of the drivers partition window. Shivers went down my spine and I grabbed hold of the seats arms. I glanced to the left, a thick bicep flexed and tensed to my whim, I reached down with my right and jerked off--milking what remained.

Something inside me twisted, folded and slipped below the surface of Cameron’s mind and for the first time I was Cameron—I knew everything. I felt my new face; the pickle of the stubble, the stickiness of the gelled hair. I sat up, and smiled as I slowly got dressed; taking in all the smells, tightness and textures of my new clothes.

Finished I tapped on the partition window, which slide down. “Take me home please,” I asked in a new voice.

“Certainly Mr. Davies,” the driver replied with a smile.

I flicked the switch on the armrest, and I could see from the windows again; to see my new world. I smiled again when I caught the reflection of my new face in the window, again I touched the stubble, only this time it was my own as we pulled up to a large house. I paid the driver, and gave him a very generous tip.

As I left the cab with my gear, Cameron’s own driver ran over and took the case apologising for not being able to pick me up; he was even larger than my new identity; this would be fun I thought to myself.