Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 7418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
But that was the thrill, the excitement of what we were doing.
It was dangerous and reckless. And it felt so fucking good.
It was one in the morning, and the diner’s neon buzzing light looked sickly pink through the rain-streaked windows. The graveyard shift was dead except for two truckers nursing burnt coffee and a man—probably drunk—asleep in the corner booth.
I’d obeyed the note he’d left. No panties under my little black uniform dress. The bell above the door dinged, and I looked up. My heart raced, blood rushing hot as I watched the big man walk in and slide into the booth in the back corner like he owned the place.
He was handsome in a rough, rugged way. He wore a dark hoodie pulled low, stubble shadowing a powerful jaw. His focus was trained on me, expression flat and hungry. There was something about him that felt off… but so achingly familiar.
He ordered coffee. Black. Didn’t touch the cup once. Just watched me, unblinking, while I refilled salt shakers with shaking hands.
I made my rounds for refills, and when I reached his booth, he leaned forward just enough for his voice—low, muffled, and meant only for me—to reach my ears.
“I hope you listened to me, babygirl.”
I froze, head snapping toward him. My clit throbbed, swollen and desperate. Because now that I really stared into those eyes… I knew him. I had to stay in character for the fantasy.
My father, Oliver, stared back at me.
He was maskless tonight, but the game was the same. Stranger danger. Forbidden predator. Daddy and daughter’s dirty little secret.
“Finish your tables,” he murmured, leaning back and finally lifting the mug to his lips for a slow sip, eyes never leaving mine.
When I finally brought his check, he caught my wrist in one, huge hand and yanked me down until my breasts nearly spilled from the low neckline of my dress, my mouth an inch from his.
“Kitchen storage room. Now.”
The words vibrated through me like a tuning fork struck against bone.
I helped a table with trembling fingers before slipping through the swinging door into the back. The storage room was dark, cramped, and smelling of grease and lemon cleaner. He was already waiting, back against the metal shelving, arms crossed, cock straining against his jeans like a promise.
The second I locked the door, he spun and pressed me face-first against the cold, stainless-steel prep table, dress flipped up, ass bare. He didn’t speak as he freed himself, spit on his length, rubbed my pussy to make sure I was soaked, and slammed home in one, vicious thrust.
My moan was cut off by his palm clamping over my mouth, the faint scent of his cologne and cigar smoke flooding my senses. Customers laughed in the diner ten feet away while my daddy fucked me raw, hips snapping so hard the table rattled and metal pans clattered overhead.
I came, biting down on his hand, pussy clenching around him, thighs shaking violently. He followed seconds later, grinding deep, flooding me until I felt it seep around his cock and drip down my legs in thick, warm pulses.
He pulled out, tucked himself away, and left me there… dress still pushed up, his cum sliding slowly and obscenely down my thighs, and feeling like I was a whore he’d just used.
I fucking loved it.
I had to go back out and serve pie to table four with his jizz coating my skin and a smile that probably looked deranged.
Closing time came, and I thought maybe Daddy would give me a reprieve.
I was wrong.
The parking lot was empty, lights flickering overhead. I’d barely made it twenty feet when his hand covered my mouth again and I was bent over the hood of a nearby car, cheek pressed to metal. Anyone could see us, but that’s what made it so fun.
My dress skirt was yanked up over my back. Daddy’s knees split my legs open and then reached over me to shove a thick dildo into my mouth.
I heard metal clanging and then the first crack of his belt across my bare ass tore a muffled cry from my throat. He didn’t stop spanking me until my skin burned, welts rising hot and angry and tears streaming down my cheeks.
Only then did he drop to his knees behind me, spread my cheeks wide, and lick a long, filthy stripe from my clit to my dripping pussy. I came just from that, sobbing and slobbering around the dildo, hips jerking helplessly.
After my orgasm waned, Daddy stood, unzipped his jeans, turned me around and pushed me to my knees. With a smooth motion, he popped the soaked phallus out of my mouth, throwing it into the bushes, then fed his cock down my throat right there under the buzzing parking lot lights.
He fucked my face until drool poured down my chin and onto my cleavage. When he came, Daddy held my head flush to his groin and pulsed straight down my gullet, forcing me to swallow every hot spurt while I choked for air, staring at me like he was enjoying my degradation.