Chapter 12: Car & Driveway Risk

Mom rubbed her temples at the kitchen table, the half-finished coffee gone cold beside her. “This headache is killing me,” she sighed, voice tight. “Emma, honey, could you and Dad run to the store? Just the basics—milk, eggs, that bread I like. I’ll never make it through the day otherwise.”

I glanced at Dad across the room. He was already reaching for his keys, the compass tattoo on his forearm flexing as he stood. Our eyes met for one electric second—his dark with that quiet hunger I’d come to crave, mine already fluttering low in my belly. The freeuse rule thrummed under my skin like a second heartbeat. No asking. Anytime. Anywhere.

“I’ll grab my purse,” I said, voice steady even as heat pooled between my legs. I’d slipped into the short sundress after the shower this morning—thin yellow cotton that barely skimmed mid-thigh, no bra, no panties. The new uniform for days like this. The fabric whispered against my bare pussy with every step, still faintly sticky from yesterday’s loads and the partial anal stretch he’d started training me for last night. My thighs rubbed together as I followed him out to the truck, heart already racing.

The old red pickup smelled like worn leather, faint motor oil, and him. I climbed into the passenger seat, sundress riding up just enough that the cool bench seat kissed my bare ass. Mom waved from the doorway, silhouette small and trusting behind the kitchen curtain. The second we turned the corner and the house disappeared, Dad’s hand left the wheel for half a second—just long enough to unzip.

His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, already half-hard from the look we’d shared. Veins stood out along the shaft, the flushed head glistening with that first bead of precum. The scent of him—musky, warm, mixed with yesterday’s dried cum still clinging to his skin—filled the cab.