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“Traffic sure is long.” Yeah, you'd be the first to realise that, especially because your dad's dick is pulsing inside of you like a fucking radar that's got a little dot blipping in and out.
Weird analogy, but it's the same sort of thing, right?
“Uh-huh.” It's a pathetic form of a response, well and truly, but words aren't really coming to you, and if they were, you'd probably be able to understand someone who's drugged up and near death more coherent.
Chris chuckles, and it does nothing short of making you whine and wince. The pleasure and the intensity are two strong forces that are definitely working against each other.
“Dad-” Your fist clenches as it lays on your thigh, as if you're ready to swivel and punch the car door window, which wouldn't be a smart decision anyway. “I can't-”
“It's been less than five minutes,” A pause, and a wet smack to your wide open pussy leaves a jolt and a squeal from you and a small groan from him. “You can hold on, can't you?”
Part of you wants to say no, but that's disobedience, and your dad definitely won't give you what you want then. So, you nod, and open your lips to really seal the deal. “Yes dad.”
A moment of tense silence, before a pat on your inner thigh, which makes you flinch. “Perfect.” Confidence leaks in his tone, and all you do is grumble slightly.
The traffic stretches on for miles, you're sure of it. The car hasn't moved in so long, you'd call it hours, dad would call it minutes.
Fact is, the cat has moved barely an inch for the past ten minutes (much like how you are on Chris’ dick, but you're not here to be crass).
Your cunt clenched around his cock ruthlessly and spontaneously, and it made your dad groan once again, albeit much louder and accompanied with a tight grip to your waist. “Stay. Still.”
“I haven't moved.” In a matter of fact tone is what you deliver that sentence in, and you didn't realise you were in a bratty mood. Maybe it's the traffic, maybe it's the car journey, or maybe it's just the fact that you want your dad to fuck you and he won't.
A harsh smack on your inner thigh makes you yelp, a red mark blossoming from how hard of a blow it was already. Damn him for his strength.
“Behave, or you're not getting fucked.” That shuts you up real good, like a treat really. Makes you feel embarrassed because he knows all too well how to make you pipe down in seconds.
After all, this is your dad.
Car horns honk around your ears, and your eyes sweep the litter of cars everywhere, just anything to take off your mind that you had your dad in you.
Well, obviously, you're fifty percent of him. Or less, you haven't stopped to go and compare genetics with him in years. But anyway, you've got your cock in him is what you're trying to get at.
“Dad.” You slump against him, and that almost causes you to suck in a deep breath as he slips out of you a little, but you're able to keep it in well enough.
“Hm?” His hands rub your inner thighs, as if he were soothing them (which, to be fair, he did slap your thigh very hard). “Whaddya want princess?”
“You.” It's breathless, your head lolling so your forehead is resting against the crook of his neck. It's much more contact, the soupy part of your brain resonating with it so badly that it threatens to take over you.
A sigh, and you can tell he wants to tease you. “You already have me yadayada.” But much to your own surprise, his hands rest on your hips and usher you to sit up.
You do just that, and he guides a gentle roll of your hips, which makes you gasp. Your hand reaches for the door handle to force your knuckles white.
It's a slow roll, but soon it turns more hastened, pleasure chasing what you've been so desperately craving for the past ten, maybe fifteen minutes.
A lifetime to you, but barely anytime at all for some.
“Fucking hell-” Seems he was more desperate that he realised, as now he's practically manhandling you up and down his dick at a pace you almost can't keep up with.
You're certain the car is rocking up and down, but everyone's stuck in traffic, got to entertain yourself somehow.
The thought of people watching you almost spurs you on, your eyes already wandering around as best as they can to see if anyone's watching, and if they're enjoying it.
Your hands wander to your breasts, pinching your nippes to give you that extra drop of pleasure as you bounce on his cock. “Dad- daddy- shit-”
Slick starts to drench out of you, as if you'd already come, but it seems your dad's cock was the plug for all of it to not slip out, and you're usually pretty tight around him.
You fuck like rabbits it seems, but you're never loose for him.
“Keep playin’ with those nipples baby.” You do as you're told, even when he sounds so weak and desperate. You'll be good.
His cock kisses your cervix perfectly, and you're already clenching around him for that impending break of the release bubbling away in you.
“Already close?” It's mocking, and you whine at that because it's not you mean to be sensitive, he just fucks you so well that you're already reaching that bliss. “You're fuckin’ easy.”
“No- no ‘m not.” It's a weak protest at best, but it's the best that you can do during the current situation of losing yourself to whatever pleasure you're feeling.
“Bet you'd just let anyone use you.” A quick denial is what he receives, shaking your head hurriedly as he spouts thrill riddled shit into your ear.
“No- daddy- only you-” You almost mean it, and the only reason you say almost is because Chris can lift you up like you're filled with stuffing, not bones and organs, and if he can do that, what can his friends do or co-workers do?
Seems like your dad can read your mind, but he no longer presses on the matter because he squeezes you tighter. “Just let me use you whenever I want, baby- that's all that matters.”
“Daddy- dad- daddy- g'nna cum-” With that, you gasp and clench around him so tight you might as well be suffocating his cock until it stops breathing, or, well, stops the blood flow as you cum, your wetness pooling around everywhere.
Groans and grunts fill the car as he uses you like a cocksleeve, and those noises are then joined by poorly hidden mewls behind bitten lips.
You're over sensitive for sure, but Chris seems like he's far from being done with the way he's using you, but he's blessing you with that delight you love so much from him.
At least the traffic still hasn't moved.
“Still so fuckin’ good-” It's cruel on the ears from it's harsh sound, but he finally approaches his peak as the rhythm you once had is now lost to hurry on getting off.
“Cum in me- please cum in me dad-” The plea falls off your lips easily. Even though he always cums on you, you'd think it would be less messy if he just came in you, no?
“Really shouldn't, sweetheart.” It's said with gritted teeth, but it seems he made his mind up quickly enough as he spills into you, sighing loudly out of relaxation.
Catching your breaths, the car steams up a little with condensation, before it dissipates fairly quickly.
Before you even have a chance to clamber off him, a knock at the window disrupts the two of you, and you haven't even the shame to hide your body as your dad rolls the window down slightly.
It revealed a clearer picture of a young man, who was obviously staring at your tits, though looked away just before it became increasingly obvious. “Excuse me- do you mind moving your car? The traffics gone down and er-”
The man looked at the pair of you, gesturing to your state of undress, and the sex probably.
Chris starts up the car because the traffic has indeed dispersed to a very clear road, but you can't help but feel confident. So, you lean your head out of the car slightly so you can get a little closer to the man.
“Sorry about that, my dad's a little slow sometimes.”