The car pulled up in front of the pub at exactly 8:30pm as arranged. It was time to go. "Are you still ok with this", I asked. "Yes" you reply, "Come on it'll be fun". We finish our drinks looking lovingly at each other, grab our coats and head for the door. As we approached the car, the driver got out, doffed a cap, gave a slight bow and opened the door for my wife. "Good evening Sir and Madam, may I say how lovely Mrs Madingley is looking this evening?" My wife smiled and I'm sure she also gave a slight wink to our driver as she lifted her left foot from the ground and into the car. The heel of her black patent shoe squashed into the carpet of the Jaguar as she lowered herself into the car and onto the cream leather seat. As she did so, the hem of her short black dress lifted just enough to give the driver, and I, a quick glimpse of her lace stocking top. She was indeed looking particularly good this evening. A short black sleeveless dress encasing her voluptuous body. The bodice struggling to contain the bulge of her breasts which were thrust together and upwards creating a most inviting cleavage which, incidentally, had not gone unnoticed by the cute little barmaid who had served us in the pub earlier on. I rather wondered if my wife had shared my interest in her cheeky looks. The car door closing brought me back to the present and I took one more admiring glance at my wife as the driver invited me the other side of the car, opening the door for me too. As I joined my wife in the rear I saw the two glasses and a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket. The door closed behind me and I again looked longingly at my wife who gave me a little smile and flicked her head slightly; just enough to throw her blonde hair away from her face slightly and onto her shoulder and giving me a better view of her smooth neck and the delights that lay below it. The driver's got into the car too and fired up the engine. "And where are we off to this evening, Mr Madingly, Sir?" "Head north on the A1, please driver" I replied, "we are off for a little shopping trip". "Certainly Sir, it will be my pleasure, the driver said. "Champagne first though, Sir" "If you will, thank you" The champagne cork was effortlessly removed and two glasses neatly poured. It was then I noticed that the driver, like my wife, also had red polished nails. Who was I to care? It was, after all, a free taxi; the driver could dress and look however they liked. We 'chinked' glasses, smiled at each other again and simultaneously sipped our glasses as the car pulled gently away from the pub car park and off onto the main road. By the time we joined the A1 both of our glasses were drained and stowed safely. My wife had leaned slightly towards me, giving me an even more tantalising view of her bulging breasts. Her hem too had ridden higher and now the lace-tops of her stockings were clearly visible. And, it seemed, visible not just to me. I gave a little smile to myself as I saw the driver adjust the centre mirror slighty, doubtless making sure the view in the rear seat was optimal from that perspective too. "Oh damn", she exclaimed. "I knew that I should have expressed myself before we left, just look". She pointed at the centre of each breast, highlighting the wet patches on each side of her dress. "Oh well", she sighed, and reached down to her bag. The necessary kit was quickly assembled, the top of her dress pulled down and her left nipple enclosed by the pump. Was it the noise of the pump itself or my wife's little sigh of relief that attracted the attention of the driver? I don't know, but I did see the centre mirror being adjusted once more. I also think that my wife was not quite so discreet when it came to the other breast. The dress was pulled down further than it needed to be and surely there was no need for the first breast to have remained bare and exposed to the driver's glances now that she was onto the second, was there? Anyhow, the job was soon done, the bottle and kit sealed and stowed. "Were you just exposing your tits to the driver"?, I asked her quietly. "I think it must be the Champagne, I am feeling quite horny", my wife whispered in my ear. "Do you think the driver would mind if I gave myself a little rub?", she giggled. "I don't know, let's ask", I say. "Ssshhhh, don't you dare, I'll be....", she started. But before she had the chance to finish her sentence, I leaned forward slightly and said, in a somewhat unnecessarily loud voice, "My wife wants to play with herself in the back of your car, but is worried you may be offended or embarrassed. You won't be, will you?", I said, boldly. "Mrs Madingly should feel free do to as she pleases, Sir" came the immediate reply. "There, you see", I said and my wife shook her head at me slightly, clearly a little embarrassed but I could see the lust in her eyes. Her right hand rested for a moment on her thigh before the fingers started moving upwards, firstly to and across the delicate lace and then above to the creamy white thigh that lay above and onward, towards the increasingly hot and moist pussy that was being cupped by her sexy black lace thong. "I should perhaps warn Madam that the windows in this particular vehicle are not tinted" said the driver as the fingers of her right hand gently moved under the gusset of her panties. "I think she is past caring", I laughed. Her left hand reached for the front of her dress and again her left breast was exposed to the air. She moved slightly further towards me, then sat forwards, upright for a moment. The centre armrest was pushed back into its upright position and my wife leaned back again, my arm went around her shoulder as she snuggled into my chest. Her right leg lifted and over onto my side, up onto the seat beside my leg. Her dress was now as near as useless as far as it's purpose of hiding her charms was concerned. Her legs were near enough wide open with her now damp gusset pointing towards the driver. My hand sought out the roundness of her exposed breast and my fingers gently squeezed the engorged nipple which excreted a milky drip onto my finger. "He can see us too", I said. My wife turned her head and looked up. Her eyes met those of the lorry driver whose cab was now alongside our car and with the aid of the street lighting he had a clear view of my wife laying across me on the back seat, breast exposed, dress around her waist and one hand busily scrabbling inside the gusset of her knickers...... maybe more to follow, we'll see ;-)