Daphne Vs. Daddy

He woke me up gently this morning.

“Babe, lets go,” he said to me. I began to drift awake, feeling his cock pressed against my ass. I smiled to myself and scooched back a bit, wiggling and wriggling my ass to let his python burrow into my ass.

But he wasn’t having any of it.

“We can’t be late, we gotta hurry, babe,” he said as he pushed me awake.

That opened my eyes.

But when I asked him where we were going, the only answer I got back was the same one I’ve been hearing all day.

“Somewhere dangerous,” he said.

I swear, unless we’re going to Syria or Iraq, I don’t understand the secrecy going on.

But Diesel is more tight lipped than I’ve ever seen him.

I could just look out the windows, right?

Wrong. The windows on the limo are custom tinted and adjustable, and Diesel has tinted them to the point where I can barely make out anything outside.

All I can do is try to place myself with the movements of the car.

But this is New York City. The streets are filled with potholes and we never go more than 30 miles per hour.

I can’t tell anything, and I’m not like some sort of secret agent that’s trained in this.

I’m just a girl. Who used to be looking for love. But who found it.

The car comes to a stop.

“Want to see where we are?” Diesel asks me.

I nod my head, sufficiently chastened by this stern man. I can see now the hardness in him and how he carried himself in his MC. Sure, he loves me, but when he’s firm, he’s firm.

“And you’ll stop bothering me about going somewhere dangerous after this?” he asks me.

I nod again. I’ve learned my lesson.

“Great,” Diesel says, opening the door to the limo.

I get to the exit and step out.

The air smells…different.

I see a long line of cars snaking towards a giant stadium.

And it dawns on me.

“That’s…Nailers Stadium,” I say to Diesel who nods his head.

“Someplace dangerous…you brought me to…New Jersey?” I ask, starting to put pieces and places together.

“East Rutherford, New Jersey,” Diesel says, pulling out two foam fingers. “Nailers Stadium.”

“This is dangerous?!” I ask him a bit shrilly. “New Jersey?”

He shrugs. “They don’t have Yellow Cabs here,” he says. “And I don’t think you’ll see too many Equinox gyms either, city girl.”