Daddy’s smirk pressed hot against my ear, and then I felt it. His fingers hooking into the thin waistband of my panties from behind, tugging them down slowly, deliberately.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I lifted my hips just enough, barely an inch so he could drag the soaked lace down my thighs.
The fabric peeled away from my dripping folds with a soft, wet sound that mercifully disappeared under the thump of the music. He let the panties drop to the floorboard at his feet.
I was completely bare under the blanket now, thighs slick with my own arousal, p***y throbbing and exposed to the cool air for only a second before his big hand slid back between my legs.
I shifted the blanket higher, clutching the edge with white-knuckled fingers to hide exactly where his hand had disappeared. Mom was still singing along, tapping the steering wheel, completely oblivious.
His palm cupped my naked p***y, warm and possessive. That’s when the embarrassment hit me like a wave. I hadn’t shaved in weeks. Just a soft patch of tiny curls that I suddenly wished I’d taken care of.
I grabbed his wrist, leaning my head back to whisper, cheeks burning, “I-I haven’t shaved—”
He tugged gently on those curls, sharp enough to make me whimper, then soothed the sting with his thumb.
“Daddy loves it,” he rasped, voice dark and hungry. “So real. So f*****g beautiful.”
The words melted me. Heat flooded my core harder than before as his fingers parted my slick folds. His middle finger traced a slow, deliberate line from my aching c**t down to my entrance, teasing, poking just the tip inside before sliding back up. My walls fluttered desperately, trying to pull him in.
Then he pushed his one thick finger, sinking into me all the way.
My eyes rolled back. Stars burst behind my lids. I saw nothing but white hot pleasure as my p***y clenched around the intrusion, greedy and tight.
His free hand gripped my inner thigh, holding me spread wide and keeping me open for whatever he wanted.
I couldn’t help it. My hips started rocking, f*****g myself on his finger in tiny, shameless circles.
“Look at you,” he growled against my neck. “Such a desperate little kitty you have. Such a dirty slut for Daddy.”
The dirty words sent fresh slick pouring out of me. He added speed, finger thrusting deeper and his knuckle grinding against my entrance like he wanted to force a second one in already.
Every curl of his finger hit that perfect spot inside me, the one that made my fists clench and my breath come in shallow, desperate pants.
I fought to keep my face neutral, biting the inside of my cheek until it bled, but I was losing. My chest rose and fell too fast. My thighs trembled uncontrollably.
His c**k throbbed hard beneath my ass now, thick and straining against his slacks, begging to replace his finger. He curled again. This time hard and the pressure snapped.
I came silently, violently. Squirting out my juices. My p***y spasmed around his finger, gushing in hot waves. He cupped his palm over me just in time, catching every splash of my release so it soaked only his hand and dripped down onto his pants instead of the blanket or seat.
I sagged against him, boneless, exhausted, mind blissfully blank.
I couldn’t believe it. I’d just let my stepdad finger f**k me to orgasm in the backseat while my mom drove. The same filthy scenes I’d played out alone in my dorm bed were real now. So wet, messy and perfect.
He growled low, satisfied, licking the taste of me from his thumb like a promise of more. Then, suddenly, the car slowed. The brakes squealing softly. Mom’s voice cut through the music, sharp and angry.
“What the f**k is this?”
My eyes snapped open, heart lurching into my throat as I stared through the windshield at whatever had made her slam on the brakes.