Sex In Disturbia – Phil

By | January 25, 2008

AlexSuzeSo to begin with I’d like to introduce you to Philip Keogh, taxi driver, father of two and model railway enthusiast. Phil enjoys his job despite the unsociable hours, occasional drunk throwing up in his cab and being robbed at knifepoint, twice.


Saturday was much like any other Saturday night for Phil. It was around 2:15am, the clubs were turning out, spewing their human dregs onto the streets. He sat in his cab, still digesting a bacon sandwich and watching the young people he despised.

It wasn’t that they were particularly bad, definitely not evil. He’d seen evil and that was something way beyond what these children could possibly understand. They were just wasters. He didn’t disapprove of their drinking, or their promiscuity or their drug taking; well so long as it was only a bit of weed and never in his cab. It wasn’t the foul language, or their apparent obliviousness to how stupid they made themselves look as they shouted at each other in the street, voices slurred, staggering home …

… it was the lack of direction that got to him. Hedonism was one thing, but they couldn’t carry on for ever without a thought for their futures. Most of those he conveyed home lived with their parents houses, even those in their early thirties. Yes, getting your own place was expensive, but they seemed more interested in spending their wages on the beer, the bling and bonking in Ibiza than leaving the nest.

They were crap tippers too, and he had lost track of the number of times he’d had a car full of them bail-out and run into the darkness without paying.

A pair of girls shivering in their skimpy tops and short skirts bent down at the wind.

“Where to ladies?” he asked, peering at their breasts.

“Cavendish Avenue.”

“No problem.”

The cab trundled off, diesel engine clattering discordantly.

Phil listened to the girls chattering.

“He was you know, he’s chelles ex. You know, the one who wanted to piss on her.”

“Dirty bastard, I’d have told him to fuck off too. I thought I knew him. Thanks for stopping me from going home with him.”

“Y’re all right. That’s what friends are for. I nearly wet myself when you told his mates what he’d been up to with chelle.”

“You’re as bad as him.”

Phil watched as one girl patted the other on her bare knee and let her hand rest there. His heart rate quickened.

“Bloody men.” Said one of the girls flatly. There was no bitterness in her voice, it was just an affirmation of a long held belief and in part a statement of sisterly solidarity with her friend.

They hugged each other. Phil considered telling them to put their seatbelts on, then decided against it.

They kissed, gently on the lips. Phil’s groin stirred, his heart thumping now. The anticipation was torture. He’d thought they would just provide him with a good letch. This was good for a couple of wanks at least.

The girls arms encircled each other, hands stroking each other’s hair, neck back. Phil shuffled in his seat trying to create space for his swelling member.

One girl reached down, parting her friend’s legs. Phil strained to see the action in the rear view mirror without crashing the car. Her friend’s legs parted, but it was outside Phil’s field of view. He cursed silently and let his mind imagine slim fingers sliding up a soft inner thigh until it reach a moist crotch. No underwear, just a neatly trimmed bush. Labia pouting and moist, the probing fingers sliding between them becoming wet, glistening. He imagined how it would be to smell those finger tips, lick them and taste the nectar they had gathered.

The nectar from those pouting red lips, red … red … red … RED!

“Oh Fuck!” The anti-lock brakes thumped the ball of Phil’s foot as he brought the cab to a halt two meters past the stop line at the lights.

“Watch where you’re fucking going mate!” cried one of the girls.

“Sorry. Sorry” He blurted out.

“It’s the next left the other girl instructed.”

A couple of minutes later he had taken their money and was on his way back towards town for his next fare. He watched them recede in his mirror, they held hands and melted into the shadows of the porch.


It was almost light when Phil slid his key into the lock. His legs were heavy expressing his fatigue from the longest shift of the week. Before sliding into bed he slipped the 8mm tape from his cab’s “security” camera into the drawer in his study and locked it.

He drifted off to sleep looking forward to a reviewing the footage tomorrow. When his wife was taking her mother shopping. She’d be out of the house for hours. Mother in laws were useful for something after all.