I Asked for a Ride on the Free Highway and Arrived Wrecked

My name is Valeria. I’m twenty-five years old, a light-skinned brunette with straight black hair down to my shoulders, slim, with pronounced hips and small tits with big, dark nipples that get hard at nothing. I like to dress well: heavy black eyeliner, dark lipstick, tight clothes that leave little to the imagination. This is the story of the dirtiest, most honest, and most complete day I’ve ever lived through, and I’m writing it because I need someone else to read it with their hand between their legs, the way I lived it.

It was a Saturday in October, five in the morning. I woke up with my cunt already wet from pure anticipation, not fear. I’d been planning that trip for weeks: from Guadalajara to Aguascalientes on the libre highway, the old one nobody takes because everyone prefers the toll road. I was going to ask for a ride from whoever stopped. And offer my whole body in exchange: my mouth, my cunt, my ass, whatever each one asked me for.

I showered slowly with very hot water, letting the steam fill my lungs. I shaved everything carefully until my cunt was smooth as a doll’s: legs, groin, armpits, every last hair. I rubbed lotion all over my body, massaging it slowly into my hips, my flat stomach, my thighs, slipping my slick fingers between the lips of my cunt for a moment just to feel my clit swell at the thought of what was coming. I put on tiny black lace underwear, a thong that barely covered my slit and a bra that left half my tits out. Over that: a very low-cut white sleeveless T-shirt, no bra underneath at the last minute, and a blue denim short so short my ass cheeks showed underneath every time I took a step. I kept the black stiletto heels in my backpack for later.

I did my makeup in front of the bathroom mirror: heavy black eyeliner, dark red lipstick that lasts for hours and sticks to cocks and glass alike, double-layer mascara. I looked at myself for a long moment and didn’t see a nervous woman. I saw exactly what I wanted to be that day: a whore with a destination, a daughter who was going to get fucked all the way down the libre highway until she reached her daddy’s bed.

At six ten I left home before my mother woke up.

***

The first gas station before the free-highway exit was full of semis warming up their engines in the dawn gloom. I stood on the road shoulder with my backpack in hand and my thumb out. The cold morning air bit my bare legs and made my nipples hard as stones under the white fabric, outlined in silhouette for any driver who passed close enough.

The first one to stop was a white Kenworth with a dry van. The driver was a man in his forties, dark-skinned, big-bodied, with several days’ beard and arms tattooed with virgins and women’s names. He rolled down the window and looked me up and down without bothering to hide it, stopping at my tits and dropping to the crotch of my shorts.

“Where to, pretty thing?”

“I’m going to Aguascalientes,” I said in a soft voice, leaning toward the window so he could get a good look at the neckline, the tits almost spilling out of the fabric. “As far as you can take me.”

“I’m going to Encarnación. Sound good?”

I got in. The cab smelled like black coffee and cheap pine air freshener that had already lost its scent. We pulled out in silence, him with his eyes on the road, me looking at the bulge already showing in his jeans, thick and tilted against his thigh, throbbing with every gear change.

Ten minutes later he put his hand on my thigh. I didn’t remove it. I left it there, hot and heavy, while I opened my legs a little wider so he’d understand he could go as high as he wanted. His callused fingers slipped under my shorts and brushed the fabric of my already soaked thong. He let out a low laugh when he felt how wet I was.

“You’re real hot, mama.”

“All by myself,” I confirmed, biting my lip. “And wanting it bad.”

He turned off the main road onto a narrow dirt track between cornfields. He killed the engine behind a dirt mound where there was nothing but dry fields and a white sky. As soon as he stopped, he yanked me by the neck toward him and kissed me with his mouth open, shoving his tongue all the way in, biting my lips while with his other hand he ripped my shirt upward and left my tits bare. He squeezed them hard, pinched my nipples between thick fingers until I was gasping against his mouth.

“What gorgeous tits, you little fucker.”

He leaned down and put them in his mouth, one and then the other, sucking them hungrily, biting them until I cried out. He pulled my shorts down in one yank along with my thong and left them tangled around my ankles. He forced my legs apart and looked at my cunt, smooth and pink, shining from how wet I already was.

“Look at this pussy. Dripping all over.”

He shoved two fingers into me at once. I arched in the seat, gripping the dashboard, moaning without trying to hide it. He moved them hard inside, curling them upward, finding the exact spot that made me open my legs wider and lift my hips. He pulled out his fingers shining with my juices and put them in my mouth so I’d suck them. I licked them clean, looking him in the eye.

“Suck it,” he ordered, undoing his belt.

I pulled his cock out of his pants and almost laughed with pleasure. It was thick, dark, with prominent veins and a purple head shining from how hard it was. I took it in my mouth all the way down, feeling it hit the back of my throat. I covered the whole cock with spit, went down to his balls and sucked those too, while he grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck and set the rhythm. I slobbered all over that cock, let the strings of spit run from my chin to my tits.

“That’s it, little whore, yeah. Swallow the whole thing.”

He pulled me by the arms and sat me on top of him. I sank onto his cock in one go, all the way, screaming when I felt it fully inside me. I started riding him in the passenger seat, bouncing with both hands on his shoulders, my tits jumping in front of his face. He grabbed my ass, spread my cheeks with both hands, pushed me up and down, spearing me with hard thrusts that made me yelp.

“Fuck, whore, fuck that cock,” he growled in my ear. “Open that cunt real wide.”

He fucked me first in the passenger seat, one hand on my waist and the other between my thighs rubbing my clit to the rhythm of his thrusts, and then he took me to the sleeper berth of the cab, where he threw me facedown on the narrow mattress, my ass up high, arms stretched forward. He spit on my ass, rubbed his cock between my cheeks, and sank it back into my cunt until he was balls-deep. His big hands clamped on my hips with a kind of certainty I liked, fingers digging into my skin. The impact of his body against mine was dry, deep, exact. The sound of his balls slapping against my clit filled the whole cab.

“Fuck me, daddy, don’t stop,” I begged with my face buried in the mattress. “Harder, break me.”

He gave me everything he had by pure thrusting, until sweat was sliding down both our backs and I was moaning without shame, with one finger in my own ass, asking him to wreck me good. When I came the first time, I squeezed his cock with my whole cunt and he cursed. He bit my shoulder when he finished, buried to the hilt, letting out a hoarse growl against my skin, emptying himself into me in shot after shot. I felt the hot cum filling me, leaking back out when he pulled out. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t careless either. It was precise.

When we got back on the road I wiped my cunt and thighs with a towel hanging behind the seat and gave him a quick kiss on his rough cheek.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Thank you, my queen. You’re delicious.”

He dropped me in Encarnación at eight forty. My legs were shaking in exactly the right way and my thong was leaking cum against my thigh with every step.

***

The second truck stopped almost immediately: a green Torton with slatted sides, loaded with sacks of cement. The driver was stocky, around fifty, with a thick gray mustache, the face of a man who doesn’t sleep well but works hard and without complaining. His plaid shirt had grease stains on the sleeves and a big belly pressing over his belt.

“I can take you to Lagos, if you want.”

Inside the cab the smell was different from the first one: work sweat, diesel, something like old food. Before we even left the parking lot, he already had his hand between my legs, thick fingers searching over the denim.

“Let me see what you’ve got down there, pretty.”

I took his hand, unbuttoned my shorts myself, and guided it under my thong straight to my cunt. I felt his thick fingers start moving with a clumsiness that, over time, turned into something useful. I moved his hand away, pulled my shorts and thong down to my knees, and showed him my cunt still sticky with the first man’s cum. I took his fingers, put them in my mouth so I could salivate them, and then I put them back in my cunt myself, two at a time.

“Yeah, like that, put them in deep,” I murmured, opening my legs as far as the seat would let me.

His fat fingers went in and out of my cunt until I was soaked, until they made me moan softly. I sucked on my own fingers too, put them between his. I unzipped him with my free hand and took out his cock. It was shorter than the first one’s but twice as thick, a broad throbbing cock, dark, with the head already leaking pre-cum. I sucked him a few times while he kept fingering me. I covered his balls in spit.

He turned off at the first dirt road he found, between agave fields lined up like soldiers. He killed the engine and said:

“Turn around. On your knees, ass up.”

I did it without thinking. I knelt on the seat facing the backrest, my ass toward him, my face pressed against the leather. He finished pulling down my shorts with one tug and took a moment to look at me before touching me, like someone appreciating something before consuming it. He gripped my hips with both huge hands, spread my cheeks wide with his thumbs, leaving my ass and cunt open for him to see. He spit on me twice, the hot globs sliding down my slit. He rubbed the fat head against my entrance until my body was begging for him, and then he came in with one deep thrust that made me scream.

“Ah, you son of a bitch, yours is so thick!”

“Take it, bitch, take your trucker’s cock.”

The thickness was the first thing I felt: wider than the first one, slower too, as if he knew that was how he got in best. He lasted twenty minutes without changing position, pushing with an almost mechanical regularity that ended up being his thing. Every thrust bounced me against the backrest. Every time he went in all the way I let out a cry. He stretched my cunt in a way that hurt the first few times and then turned into pure glory. I pushed back to find his rhythm every time he sped up, the wet sound of his hips against my ass filling the cab, the sloshing of my cunt so soaked you could hear it from meters away. He put one thick finger in my ass while he fucked me and I twisted, moaning, coming all over his cock, squeezing him with everything I had.

“That’s it, little whore, soak my cock good.”

When he finished he grunted something unintelligible, slammed into me to the hilt, and came inside with a series of long spasms. He stayed still a moment with his hands still clamped on my hips, panting against the back of my neck. When he pulled out, I felt his load dripping down my thighs to my knees.

We stopped at a roadside taco stand. He bought me three asada tacos with everything. I ate standing up beside the Torton with the cum-soaked thong stuck to my cunt, him with his arm over my shoulders, introducing me to the taqueros as if I were his lifelong girlfriend. The taqueros smiled, knowing perfectly well what I was. I felt strangely good about that.

He dropped me in Lagos de Moreno at ten thirty.

***

The third ride was different because there were two of them.

A white double-trailer truck, loaded with sealed boxes. Two men drove it: a skinny guy around thirty-five, nervous and always half-open-mouthed, and a quieter forty-year-old who seemed to think hard before saying anything. They both looked at me the same way when I stopped the truck on the shoulder: with the same hungry face.

“Where to, pretty?” the skinny one asked.

“Aguascalientes. As far as you can take me.”

“We’re going straight through,” the quiet one said. “Get in. But you’re sitting in the middle.”

I sat between them in the cab, with one man’s thigh against the other’s. Before we reached the next curve, one hand was already on each thigh, one going up the hem of my shorts, the other slipping under the fabric to touch my cunt again, sticky from before. The skinny one put his fingers in his mouth, sucked them noisily, and laughed.

“This bitch is already served, man. She’s got somebody else’s cum all up in her ass.”

“Then let’s put more in her,” said the quiet one. “There’s a motel ten kilometers ahead.”

I didn’t take long to say yes. I took my shorts off right there in the cab and let myself be groped on the tits and cunt all the way to the motel. The skinny one pulled his cock out and put it in my hand. The quiet one grabbed my hair and put it in my mouth over the gearshift. I got to the motel with my face full of saliva and my nipples red from all the pinching.

The room smelled like bleach and other people’s previous nights. There was a mirror on the ceiling and sheets that had seen too much. They locked the door and looked at me both at once from opposite sides of the bed, measuring me like I was a cut of meat on the counter.

“Take everything off. Keep the heels on.”

I did it slowly so they could watch. I took off my shorts, my thong, pulled off my T-shirt. I stood naked in the middle of the room with the heels on, my legs a little apart, letting them see my smooth cunt and hard nipples. They undressed too, almost at the same time. The skinny one had a long, thin cock, curved upward. The quiet one, surprisingly, had a thick, huge cock that made me clench my thighs when I saw it.

The skinny one came to me first, threw me on the bed, spread my legs, and put his mouth between my thighs. He sucked my cunt with real hunger, his tongue working my clit in circles, fingers going into me at the same time. He made me arch my back and drool on his fingers. The quiet one climbed over me, held me by the tits, pinched my nipples, and opened my mouth with his thick cock until I swallowed it. He shoved it down my throat, until I was almost choking, and held it there for a second before easing up so I could breathe.

“Look at her swallowing it, this little bitch.”

First one put it in my cunt until I was almost touching the edge of the mattress with my forehead: the skinny one, whose length was just perfect to get me all the way to the back on every thrust, pounding my cervix and making me scream. Then the other one flipped me over, put me on all fours and filled my mouth with his giant cock while the skinny one fucked me from behind, thrusting without patience, and I swallowed air between moans muffled by the quiet one’s cock. They filled me from both sides at once, nonstop, for minutes. They swapped: skinny one to my mouth, quiet one to my cunt, and I felt my cunt stretch twice as wide when the fat one went in, that tube of flesh that seemed never to end.

“You want it in the ass, whore?”

“Yes, both,” I gasped. “Put both of them in at once.”

They laid me on top of the quiet one, faceup on the bed, I sat on him with that thick cock going all the way into my cunt, moaning when he filled me completely. The skinny one climbed in back, spit on my ass, slicked his cock with saliva, and started pushing until he got inside. I felt both of them opening me at the same time, both cocks inside me separated only by a thin wall of flesh. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just moaned and moaned while both of them pushed in alternation, filling me on one side and the other. I came screaming, squeezing them both, cunt and ass clamping in spasms. The skinny one came first, filling my ass with hot cum. The quiet one a minute later, with a roar, emptying his cock into my cunt in a torrent I felt dripping out when I got off him.

For almost an hour they rotated positions, taking turns without me having to say a thing, moving me between the two of them with a coordination that didn’t seem improvised. They fucked me standing against the mirror, in the bathroom sink, sitting in a chair with the quiet one underneath and the skinny one putting it in my mouth. The skinny one was loud and fast; the quiet one, surprisingly, was longer and more intense. They finished both over my face and tits again, emptying themselves onto my skin while I opened my mouth and tongue to receive them. At some point I realized I wasn’t pretending anything anymore: I was completely inside the moment, with no distance, no calculation. I came two more times. The last time I cried a little and didn’t really know why, but I didn’t care.

They took me out of the motel at noon. They dropped me at the entrance to Aguascalientes and kept going without looking back.

***

It was almost one in the afternoon. The Aguascalientes sun was beating down without mercy. I sat on the curb of a gas station and drank cold water from a bottle the cashier sold me without asking a single question, even though my legs stained with dried cum, the hickeys on my neck, and my smudged mascara told the whole story. I looked at myself in my phone mirror. My eyes were shining in a way I took a second to recognize: satisfaction of a whore well used.

The fourth ride came in a blue stake-bed truck loaded with fruit crates. The driver was young for a trucker: around thirty, fair-skinned blond, eyebrow piercing, skull tattoo on his right forearm. He looked at me with a smile that said he already knew exactly what he was looking at.

“How long have you been on the road?” he asked when I climbed in.

“All day,” I answered without embellishment. “And I’ve still got more left.”

He nodded, respecting the answer, and put his hand straight on my cunt without asking. He found me soaked and laughed.

“They’re giving it to you hard, huh?”

“I want more.”

He turned off the main road after Pabellón de Arteaga, onto a dirt track between bare hills where there was nobody else but the wind. He stopped the engine, rested his elbow on the window, and told me he had a fantasy he had never been able to fulfill with anyone. He told it slowly, watching me to see how I’d react.

It was something specific involving the cab’s gearshift: he wanted to see me ride the leather shift lever first, open myself on it while he sucked my tits, and then fuck him with the lever still inside me. I asked if he was sure. He said yes, that all his life he’d looked at it and imagined my cunt swallowing it. I asked if he had lube. Without saying anything he pulled a bottle out of the glove compartment and gave it to me.

We did it. It took almost half an hour. I stripped naked and smeared the lube over my cunt and all over the black leather shift lever. I climbed on top, legs spread, and lowered myself slowly until the round knob of the lever slipped between the lips of my cunt. I went down further. I felt it working its way inside, filling me with a different kind of thickness than a cock, harder, more relentless. He watched me with wide eyes, one hand in mine guiding me, the other squeezing a tit.

“Holy shit, fuck, you’re taking it all.”

“Watch me,” I gasped. “Watch me fuck your truck’s gearshift.”

I started moving up and down, fucking myself on the gearshift, while he sucked my nipples and bit them, one hand buried between my ass cheeks, rubbing my ass. I came like that, on top of his gearshift, with his tongue on my right nipple, screaming against the cab ceiling.

Then I got down, without fully pulling the knob out of the gearshift, and climbed on top of him, on top of his already stone-hard cock that he’d pulled out of his pants. He put it in my cunt still opened by the lever, and I started moving up and down, slow at first, then harder, hitting against the gearshift and against his pelvis. Every drop down sank two cocks into me at the same time, his alive and hot, the leather one hard and immobile, and I moaned like crazy, unable to close my mouth, saliva dripping down my chin. The air filled with panting, plastic knocks, my voice breaking each time he shoved deeper, grabbing my ass, lifting and lowering me to his rhythm.

“That’s it, baby, ride them both.”

I screamed in a way that surprised even me, an animal sound that came from deep inside, uncontrollable, when I came a second time. He made sounds too that probably nobody had ever heard from him before, and he came inside me while I was still clenching on top. When he finished he helped me down with a care I hadn’t expected and that felt honest to me. The gearshift was smeared with my juices and his cum. He cleaned it with a rag, smiling.

He dropped me near downtown at three thirty with a bottle of water and a look that stayed stuck on my back as I walked away toward the gas station.

***

The fifth ride brought three at once.

A yellow Torton that picked me up on the west exit with three men inside: the driver, called Cuate, and two helpers squeezed into the back seat of the cab. Cuate talked on the CB radio while we were still leaving the gas station, with the calm voice of someone announcing the weather.

“This is Cuate, guys. Picking up a passenger on the west exit. A hot little chick, big tits, wants cock. We’re taking her north. Who’s around that area?”

Several answers came at once, mixed voices, laughter, beeps, greetings, someone asking if they could borrow her, another offering gas in exchange.

We stopped on a road between cornfields, far from the main highway. They opened the back box: inside were new sofas wrapped in clear plastic. I stretched out on the biggest one after taking all my clothes off. The plastic crinkled and stuck to my back from the sweat of the whole day I had on me. The three of them stripped around me: Cuate with a dark curved cock, the two helpers one with a medium thick one, the other with a long thin one that bent over his thigh.

The three of them had me for almost an hour. One would put his face between my legs and suck my cunt hungrily, tongue working my clit while he put two fingers inside me, while another would put it in from behind with hard thrusts that made me arch over the plastic, my ass bouncing against his pelvis. The third would hold my hands over my head or pry my mouth open to fill it with fingers or the tip of his cock, spitting on my face so I’d lick him clean. And then they’d switch, with no fixed order, taking turns without me having to ask for anything, talking to each other with looks and half-sentences like men who have worked together for years.

“Give the mouth to him.”

“I’m gonna stick it in her ass, hold her cheeks.”

“She’s nice and tight, the bitch.”

They grabbed my hair, forced me open, shoved two cocks in my mouth at the same time, licking both heads like a double popsicle. They grabbed my ankles and lifted my legs up to my shoulders to penetrate deeper. Cuate sat on one of the sofas and made me ride him while the other two took turns stuffing their cocks in my mouth, and then one of the helpers climbed in back and put it in my ass, all three cocks working me at once. I moaned with a voice already hoarse from using it so much that day, crying and laughing at the same time, taking cock from every side.

At some point Cuate turned on the CB radio, grabbed the mic, and brought it to my mouth while the other two kept fucking me. My moans, my filthy talk, my pleas for more cock were broadcast over the frequency for whoever wanted to hear them.

“Let everybody hear her, let all the guys hear her,” Cuate said, laughing, smoking a cigarette while he made his cock bounce inside me. “Tell them how you like it.”

“Harder, put it in harder,” I moaned into the mic. “Fill me up. Fuck me all three of you.”

I heard my own name, the nickname they’d given the passenger in the yellow Torton, repeated by anonymous voices from Michoacán, from Jalisco, from everywhere. Obscene comments, offers, men jerking off in their cabs while listening to me. The three of them finished almost at the same time, emptying themselves over my face, my tits, my back, my cunt, over the clear plastic that was already smeared all over.

I didn’t care. More than not caring, I liked that the whole highway knew that on that Saturday in October the passenger in the yellow Torton was mine and whoever wanted her.

They dropped me off at a gas station east of the city at five forty. My body was marked in specific shapes, hickeys on my neck, my tits, my thighs, nipples red, cunt swollen, clothes beyond saving, makeup completely wiped away. I smelled like the whole day at once, like cum, sweat, raw sex.

***

The last ride of the route was the calmest.

An older man, about sixty, clean pressed shirt, carefully trimmed gray mustache, the smell of real soap, not air freshener. He rolled down the window and looked at me with a mix of desire and something like tenderness that threw me off after so many hours of encounters with no ambiguity.

“Get in, girl. You look tired.”

The cab was clean. The radio was off. No pine tree hanging from the rearview mirror. I sat in the passenger seat and for a moment let myself simply be, without thinking about what came next.

He asked where I was going. I told him to family’s house, north of the city.

“Close family?” he asked, with no visible double meaning in his voice.

“Very close,” I answered, and said nothing else.

He was the one who suggested turning into a dark alley between two closed warehouses. He did it with a calm that had nothing urgent in it. He asked if I was okay with that. I said yes. He looked me in the eyes for a moment before touching me, as if he wanted me to really confirm it.

“I want you to fuck me the way you know how,” I told him.

That was exactly what I wanted.

It was slow, it was gentle, it was completely different from everything before. He unbuttoned my dress patiently, kissed my neck slowly, ran his hands over my tits without squeezing, caressing them as if they were the most delicate thing he’d touched in years. He lowered his head and sucked my nipples softly, licking them with his tongue while one hand slipped under my shorts and stroked my cunt without urgency, finding me still wet, swollen from the whole day. He put one finger inside me, slowly, all the way, and moved it gently, without wanting to tear anything, just feel me.

“You’re beautiful, girl. Full of life.”

He took off my ruined shorts and thong. He unbuckled his belt and showed me a normal cock, an older man’s cock, neither big nor small, but hard as the ones at midday. He sucked me into it asking sweetly, without gripping my neck, letting me do it at my own pace. I licked him clean, patiently, giving him back a little of the care.

He laid me back on the reclined seat and settled between my legs. He put it in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, giving me time to feel it, looking at my face the whole time. When he was all the way inside, he stayed still for a second, breathing against my neck.

“You’re so lovely.”

He started moving slow. Really slow. In and out, almost coming out and then sinking all the way back in, both of us breathing together, no rush. He kissed my mouth slowly, with a soft tongue, while he fucked me at that rhythm of someone who knows what it’s worth to take the time. I wrapped my arms around his head against my shoulder, dragged my nails down his back. After a whole day of urgent cocks, this was almost another thing.

When I came, he held my waist with quiet firmness and kept moving with the same calm until he came too, softly, without a shout, just a long sigh in my neck as he emptied himself inside me slowly.

Afterward he stroked my hair with the palm of one old, sure hand. He didn’t say anything else. The silence of someone who has just received something he didn’t expect to find.

He dropped me off four blocks from my father’s house at seven twenty at night.

***

I showered for a long time in the guest bathroom. The hot water took everything away: the sweat, the dirt, the diesel, the dust from the free highway, the dried cum between my thighs. I scrubbed my hair twice, rubbed lotion over every inch of my body until I smelled like myself again, not like a highway. I put my fingers in my cunt under the stream to get out whatever was left inside, leaving it clean and ready for the only thing that mattered. I put on the black strappy dress I had brought in my backpack, with nothing underneath, feeling my freshly washed, freshly shaved cunt rub against the fabric with every step. I put my makeup back on in the small bathroom mirror: dark lipstick, quick eyeliner.

At eight thirty I sent my father a message:

I’m here already. I’m waiting for you.

He answered in two minutes. He was coming from the warehouse, he’d be home soon.

I sat on the dark living-room sofa, my legs a little apart, the dress ridden up to my thigh. Outside, the neighbor’s dogs, the noise of the street, the warm Aguascalientes air on an October night. Inside, only silence, my own breathing speeding up slowly, and the hot throb between my legs asking for the last thing.

***

He walked in at nine ten. He smelled of wet earth and work, a metallic note on his fingers. He stopped in the doorway when he saw me sitting in the dark in the black dress and heels still on, my legs half open.

I didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

He came over slowly, took my face in both hands, and looked at me for a second too long before moving. In that second I thought of all the men that day, all the cab interiors, all the dirt roads, all the different bodies that had passed through mine since morning. And I understood that all of it had been to arrive at this moment: the only one that truly mattered.

He kissed me with an intensity unlike any stranger’s. I parted my lips and shoved my tongue all the way in, biting his lips, sucking them. His hands slid down my neck, squeezed my tits over the dress, pulled it off in one yank and left my nipples bare, the big dark nipples he knew better than anyone.

“How I missed you, you son of a bitch.”

He sucked my nipples hungrily, biting them, licking them until I gasped his name. He slipped a hand under my dress, found my naked, hot cunt, and let out a growl when he felt how wet I was.

“You bathed for me, little whore.”

“For you, daddy. All for you.”

He carried me to the sofa and put me on all fours in one motion, my knees sinking into the cushions, my face against the backrest, my ass lifted high. He hiked my dress up to my waist, leaving my cunt and ass exposed. He saw my body marked by the whole day, the fading but still visible hickeys, the finger marks on my hips, smelled the scent of lotion mixed with the trace of everything I’d done since I left home that morning. He didn’t say a word about it. He just unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his thick cock, the only cock all day that knew every corner of the cunt it was about to enter.

He spit on my ass, rubbed the head of his cock between my cheeks, slid down to my cunt and went in in one go, his thick, familiar cock finding the easy path because I’d spent the whole day preparing for this, even if he didn’t know it.

“Oh, daddy,” I moaned, gripping the backrest. “Fuck me.”

He fucked me with the brutality only he can afford with me: one hand in my hair tugging back, arching my neck, the other spanking my ass with dry slaps until it burned red, his pelvic thrusts crashing into my ass with a sound that filled the empty living room. He told me things in my ear that only we say when no one else can hear us, things only a father can say to his daughter.

“My girl. My little whore. You like your daddy’s cock?”

“Yes, daddy, don’t stop, put it deeper.”

“Yeah? Who fucks you better?”

“You, daddy, you, you’re the only one.”

He fucked me on all fours against the sofa backrest, turned me over and fucked me faceup with my legs on his shoulders, driving it all the way in while sucking my nipples. He sat me on top of him and made me ride him, watching my tits bounce in his face while he squeezed my ass cheeks until his fingers left marks. I came twice, screaming against his chest. He held out, fucked me from every angle, knowing exactly how to make me beg. I pushed backward with what little energy I had left, clenching every time he sank all the way in.

“My girl,” he told me in my ear when he was about to finish. “My little whore. You know how much I love you.”

“Inside, daddy, come inside,” I begged, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Fill me.”

He came inside with a long roar, buried to the hilt, filling me one last time that day with his hot cum, the only one that truly mattered. I felt him filling me, felt him stay still for a moment as he emptied himself completely, and then he collapsed over me, breathing against my neck.

Afterward he carried me in his arms to his room, his cock still dripping between my thighs, laid me down on the mattress and lay beside me. He held me tight against his chest, his big hand running over my back. He smelled like earth, like work, like him.

I fell asleep in less than two minutes, with his cum running out of my cunt and down my thighs, staining the sheets.

***

That was the longest day of my life: thirteen hours, many men, an entire highway listening to my moans over the CB radio, and in the end my daddy’s cock buried all the way inside me. I don’t regret a single stop. Not the first, not the last. Each one was exactly what it had to be.

This is my confession. I’m writing it with my fingers inside my cunt, from the same bed where I slept that night, with his smell still on the pillow.