Chapter 176 Suck Daddy's Cock In The Truck
The house had finally gone quiet around one in the morning. Dad’s snoring rumbled through the walls like distant thunder, Mom had turned off the hallway light hours ago, and the last of the party stragglers had stumbled to their cars. I waited another twenty minutes just to be sure, heart hammering so loud I swore it would wake the whole street. Then I slipped out of bed in nothing but the same yellow sundress from earlier—no bra, no panties, skin still tingling from where Jake had wiped his fingers on my thigh like I was already his property.
I crept down the stairs barefoot, avoiding the creaky third step, and eased the back door open just enough to slide through. The night air hit me cool and sharp against my overheated skin. My nipples pebbled instantly under the thin cotton. Between my legs I was still soaked—had been since the garage, a slow, constant drip that made every step feel obscene. I could smell myself on the breeze, musky and needy, and it only made me wetter.
His black truck was parked down the street like he promised, lights off, engine silent. I hurried across the lawn, grass damp under my feet, dress fluttering against my thighs. When I reached the passenger side he leaned over and popped the door open before I even touched the handle.
“Get in,” he said, voice low and rough like he hadn’t slept either.
I climbed up, the leather seat cold against my bare ass. The door clicked shut and suddenly it was just us—the cab smelled like him, leather, motor oil, faint cigarette smoke from years ago, and that dark, male scent that made my mouth water. He didn’t turn on the dome light. Just reached over, grabbed my chin, and turned my face to his.
“You came,” he said, thumb brushing my bottom lip.
“Couldn’t stay away,” I whispered. “Been throbbing since you left me in the garage.”
His eyes dropped to my chest where my nipples poked through the dress like they were begging. Then lower, to where I’d already spread my thighs a little, shameless.
“Show me,” he ordered.
I hiked the dress up over my hips, let it bunch at my waist. The cab was dark but the streetlamp outside cast just enough light to show him everything—my bare pussy, lips swollen and glistening, clit peeking out, a thin string of wetness stretching when I shifted.
He groaned, low and pained. “Fuck, baby. Look at that pretty cunt. All slick and ready for Daddy.”
The word hit me like a slap—hot, electric. I whimpered, hips rocking forward on the seat.
He unbuckled his belt slowly, the metallic clink loud in the quiet cab. Zipper down. He pulled himself out—thick, heavy, already hard and leaking at the tip. The head was flushed dark, veins standing out, pre-cum beading at the slit. My mouth watered so much I had to swallow.
“On your knees,” he said. “Between the seats.”
The truck was big enough—barely. I climbed over the console, knees on the passenger floor mat, face level with his lap. The rough carpet bit into my skin but I didn’t care. I looked up at him through my lashes, lips parted.
“Open wide,” he growled.
I did. Tongue flat. He fisted the base and tapped the head against my tongue—once, twice, smearing pre-cum across it. Salty. Warm. Addictive. I moaned, the vibration making him hiss.
“Suck,” he ordered.