Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
After Dean convinces you to skip class, your left with no ride home. But no one rides for free, and he would love some road head.
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Dean slowed to a crawl. Five miles an hour, maybe less, the engine dropping down to almost nothing, just a low idle, the way the car sounded when he was letting it coast. Around the bend you could already see the construction crew, four or five men in vests and hard hats standing around a saw rig and a pile of torn asphalt. Close. Close enough to touch the car if they leaned.
He reached over and undid his jeans.
"Dean." Your voice came out smaller than you wanted.
He had already reached across the center console and gotten a fist into your hair at the back of your skull, that grip, the one that didn't negotiate, and he pushed you down over him. You took him in and he was already hard and he didn't give you a second to find a rhythm before he started working you by the fist in your hair, your skull in his palm, pulling you down until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him and your eyes went wet immediately, the involuntary kind, the kind that had nothing to do with feeling anything except the particular humiliation of your body betraying you.