Brittany runs her hands down the curves letting her finger slowly trace the tight stitching. She grips harder and twists her hands slowly. She closes her eyes, loving the sound her hand cause. Leather. She opens her eyes, lets go of the wheel and lets her hands run over the passengers seat. She's sitting in a brand new Mercedes Benz and loving every minute of it. Her old car was nice but it had some years on it and even more miles. The leather of the drivers seat was worn, and the springs had little to no support. This car has the new car smell and it's shiny. She looks around the car trying to figure out why there are so many buttons and what does each one do.
Brittany had arrived a few minutes early, and sat in the car waiting. She looked over to the front door. The doorman stood rocking slightly on his feet, he looked bored and half asleep. She looked at her watch, twenty after eight. She still had a few minutes to spare. Brittany decides to try out the speakers of the car. Plugging her iPod in, she hits shuffle and turns the volume up a bit. There are too many songs on her iPod, she can't remember when or how she got most of them. She keeps hitting next, looking out for any sign of some one walking out of the building.
After a few moments she hears trumpets at the beginning of a song and thinks that it is a perfect song to test the bass. She turns the volume up when the bass kicks in. It sounds amazing. She taps her finger against the wheel to the song and mouths to the words. Her foot starts tapping the acceleration pedal lightly while swaying her hips. Before she knows it she singing aloud.
I drive these brothers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these ices.
She wiggles her finders, pursing her lips
Dolce & Gabbana,
Fendi and that Donna
Karan, they be sharin'
All their money got me wearin' fly
Brother I ain't askin,
They say they love my ass 'n,
She tries to shake her butt, and can't help but think that the seat is more spacious than the one in her old car
Seven Jeans, True Religion's,
I say no, but they keep givin'
So I keep on takin'
And no I ain't taken
We can keep on datin'
I keep on demonstrating
She puts her hands on each side of her boobs and pushes them closer together.
My love, my love, my love, my love
You love my lady lumps,
My hump, my hump, my hump,
My humps they got you,
At this point Brittany forgets where she is, devoting herself entirely to the song.
She's got me spending.
Spendin' all your money on me and spending time on me.
She's got m-
There is a tap on the window, snapping her back to reality. Her hand jolts to the nob and turns off the radio. She looks over to the passenger window to find the doorman. Eyes wide and his too-big-for-his-face lips parted. He quickly tilts his head to his left. Brittany jumps out of the car before she can think. She runs behind the car. When she comes to the other side of the car, she freezes.
There stands a woman. Cream-colored three-inch high heels, amazingly caramel toned legs, black pencil skirt, matching cream-colored blouse under a black blazer. It's something businesswomen wear everyday, but for some reason it looks amazing right now. The outfit looks amazing on the woman. No, the woman looks amazing in the outfit. Wait, isn't that the same thing? The woman stands there, briefcase in hand and cell phone in other.
"You going to open the door or should I start walking?" she says without looking at Brittany.
Brittany's body reacts before her brain can process what had just happened, walking behind the other woman and opening the back car door, allowing the woman to get in. Before getting in the driver seat, she peaks over the car and sees the doorman trying to hold his laughter looking at her.