I’m supposed to be driving you home after babysitting. My parents are back, the house is covered, and I’m just repaying the favour. That’s all. But you keep calling me sir. You keep looking at me. You keep sitting there beside me like you aren’t waiting for me to stop being responsible and do something about it. So I pull over. In the back seat, I tell you exactly what I’ve noticed. The lingering. The excuses. The way you look at me around the house when you think I’m not paying attention. You wanted your boss. Your older man. Your sir. So I give you what you’ve been trying to get from me. I eat you out in the back of my car, make you cum once, then keep going until you’re overstimulated and messy enough to cum again before I even fuck you. Then I pull you onto my lap. It’s cramped, rough, too close, and exactly what you wanted. I slouch down so your head doesn’t hit the roof, put your hands on my shoulders, grab your hips, and move you against me. You ride me in the back seat while I tell you you’re my pretty little fuck toy, my good girl, my good worker. And maybe, if I make you cum hard enough, I can get something even worse than sir to slip out of your pretty mouth. Afterwards, I clean you up, straighten you out, and tell you to keep this between us. Good girl.