He took his fingers out of me like he was doing me a favor.
He wasn’t.
The wet sound was obscene even under the tires. My cunt clenched on the empty and a thick string of slick followed his hand onto his jeans. I was shaking on his lap, dress around my waist, p***y bare and used and still dripping on the hard line of his c**k.
Knox wiped his fingers on the inside of my thigh, slow, like he wanted the smear to stay.
Then I heard his zipper.
Dad was talking about the last gas station before the lake. Mom had her head tipped against the window. The GPS said forty minutes. Knox’s mouth touched my ear.
“Stay looking forward,” he whispered. “You make a face, they know.”
I looked at the back of Dad’s head.
Knox pulled himself out. Thick. Hot. Already wet at the tip from my mess soaking th
