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pressnewsagencyllc · 6 days

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VW workers in Tennessee vote to join UAW in historic win for Detroit union

Kelcey Smith displays UAW buttons in Chattanooga, Tennessee on April 10, 2024. Kevin Wurm | The Washington Post | Getty Images Volkswagen workers in Chattanooga, Tennessee, have overwhelmingly voted to join the United Auto Workers — marking a major milestone for the union and its first successful organizing drive of an automaker outside of Detroit’s Big Three. Union organizing passed with 73%…

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#AUTOS #Breaking News: Business #business #business news #chattanooga #Detroit #Labor economy #personnel #transportation #volkswagen ag

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taevisionceo · 10 months

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TAEVision 3D Mechanical Design Automotive VOLKSWAGEN VW Passat CC "Aus Liebe zum Automobil" VOLKSWAGEN AG "NIGHT IN BLUE" ▸ TAEVision Engineering on Pinterest ▸ TAEVision Engineering on Google Photos

Data 560 - Jun 24, 2023

#TAEVision #engineering #3d #mechanicaldesign #automotive #Volkswagen AG #Volkswagen #Passat CC #Volkswagen Passat CC #Aus Liebe zum Automobil #NIGHT IN BLUE

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reportwire · 1 year

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Tesla is not the only company reviewing its Europe investment after Biden's IRA

Elon Musk, Tesla CEO, on a stage at the Tesla Gigafactory in Grünheide, Germany. Picture Alliance | Picture Alliance | Getty Images Tesla recently announced a strategy shift away from Europe as it seeks to benefit from unprecedented subsidies in the United States. But it’s not the only company reviewing investment decisions vis-à-vis Europe. Many multinationals are reconsidering plans to deploy…

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#business news #Economy #Enel SpA #Europe News #Germany #joe biden #Linde PLC #Politics #tesla inc #Trade #U.S. Economy #united states #Ursula von der Leyen #Volkswagen AG

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asikomecom · 1 year

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GM, Stellantis rank as worst automakers for fuel efficiency, even amid EV push, EPA says - CNBC

GM, Stellantis rank as worst automakers for fuel efficiency, even amid EV push, EPA says – CNBC

GMC vehicles sit on display at the Sterling McCall Buick GMC dealership on February 02, 2022 in Houston, Texas. Brandon Bell | Getty Images DETROIT – General Motors may be transitioning to an all-electric future, but its recent vehicle fleet ranked among the least efficient and most polluting in the U.S. automotive industry, according to a report released Monday by the U.S…. Read more

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#Autos #Breaking News: Business #Business #business news #climate #Detroit #Environment #Ford Motor Co #General Motors Co #Hyundai Motor Co #Michael Stanley Regan #Pollution #Stellantis NV #Toyota Motor Corp #Transportation #United States #Volkswagen AG

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globalcourant · 2 years

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Why QuantumScape investors are still waiting for new EV batteries

A solid-state battery development lab for QuantumScape. QuantumScape The electric vehicle space has seen a handful of impressive stock market debuts in recent years, but battery start-up QuantumScape’s first few weeks of trading were remarkable even by EV stock standards. QuantumScape, which was founded in 2010, went public via a merger with a special-purpose acquisition company, or SPAC. Its…

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#Autos #batteries #Bayerische Motoren Werke AG #business #business news #climate #Decarbonization Plus Acquisition Corporation III #Ford Motor Co #investors #LatAmGrowth SPAC #QuantumScape #Quantumscape Corp #Technology #Toyota Motor Corp #Transportation #Volkswagen AG #waiting

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clothinglennyco · 2 years

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Why China will likely recover more slowly from the latest Covid shock

As Shanghai tries to reopen businesses, one downtown district over the weekend banned residents from leaving their apartment complexes again for mass virus testing. Pictured here, in another district on May 21, 2022, is a line outside a shopping mall. Xu Kaikia | Visual China Group | Getty Images BEIJING — China’s economy won’t be snapping back quickly from the latest Covid outbreak, many…

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#Asia Economy #business news #China #Economic events #Market Insider #Markets #Stock markets #Volkswagen AG #World economy

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thelegend9798 · 2 years

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After the 'hippie' bus and Beetle, VW makes eyes at America once again

After the ‘hippie’ bus and Beetle, VW makes eyes at America once again

As Volkswagen looks to resurrect the Scout brand in the United States, CEO Herbert Diess has shed light on the decision, saying it represents an opportunity for the German auto giant to “become much more American.” VW announced plans to re-launch the Scout as a fully-electric pick-up and “rugged” SUV last Wednesday, with prototypes due to be revealed in 2023 and production planned to begin in…

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#Alternative and sustainable energy #Business #business news #Cars #Electric power generation #electric vehicles #elon musk #Energy #Environment #Europe #Ford Motor Co.#General Motors Co.#Germany #North America #Renewable Energy #Tesla Inc.#United States #Volkswagen AG

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taevisionceo · 1 year

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📰 TAEVision Engineering 's Posts - Mon, Mar 20, 2023 TAEVision 3D Mechanical Design • Automotive VOLKSWAGEN VW Passat CC • Automotive Machinery Agriculture MercedesBenz GClass (incl RClass) IRON Project • Tools Repair RemovalInjectors SsangYong XDi270 • Fashion Music NY NYC WannaBeFamous Cube1 01 - Data 532 Automotive VOLKSWAGEN VW Passat CC "Aus Liebe zum Automobil" VOLKSWAGEN AG ▸ TAEVision Engineering's Post on Tumblr 02 - Data 294 Automotive Machinery Agriculture Farm Farms Farming MercedesBenz GClass GWagon OffRoad (included RClass) IRON Project 13 Shöckl Suffolk County NY ▸ TAEVision Engineering's Post on Tumblr 03 - Data 239 Tools GarageTools Repair RepairTools RemovalTools RemovalInjectors injectors SsangYong XDi270 Ref. 1280000 - 1280001... ▸ TAEVision Engineering's Post on Tumblr 04 - Data 372 3D Design Applications Fashion Music NY NYC THE NEXT BIG THING WannaBeFamous Cube1 - Music in New York ▸ TAEVision Engineering's Post on Tumblr

📰 I just updated my Pressfolio: TAEVision Mechanics's Online Portfolio - Global Data - Mar 20, 2023 ▸ TAEVision Mechanics's Online Portfolio (last update)

Global Data - Mar 20, 2023

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reportwire · 2 years

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Volkswagen's Porsche IPO prices at top of its range

Volkswagen’s Porsche IPO prices at top of its range

Volkswagen AG said late Wednesday that it priced Porsche AG’s initial public offering at the top of its range, setting the sports-car maker’s IPO on a course to be among the largest ever in Europe. VW VOW, +1.77% priced the IPO at EUR82.50 a share, or about $80, valuing Porsche P911, at more than $70 billion. In a nod to Porsche’s iconic 911 two-door car, first introduced in the mid-1960s, 911…

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i--needed--that · 2 years

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This scene always makes me smile. It's adorable! But this fun, little movie was really all about promoting international understanding. As a result, it won both the "UN Award" (at the BAFTA Film Awards)...and the Golden Globe Award for the "Best Film Promoting International Understanding". In addition to entertaining us, Gene's dances were usually telling a story...and he's created the same dynamic, here. Just beneath the surface plot of this film (two parents searching for their runaway children), lies a much deeper journey for his character. Although he begins as a man with little understanding of the French culture in which he lives and works; and a well-meaning father, with little understanding of his young son...Gene's character really does develop nicely (on both counts) along the way. It's lovely, and very sweet. A special thanks to the amazing @mostlydaydreaming, who provided a link for this hard-to-find film (I'll post it below). What would we do without her? 🥰 Barbara Laage & Gene Kelly, in "The Happy Road" (1957). 🤍

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edsonjnovaes · 11 months

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PROCESSO KOMENDA

Erwin Komenda viveu no topo do panteão do mundo criativo de Ferdinand Porsche, com todas as suas inúmeras permutações. Como engenheiro e metalúrgico, Komenda se aprofundou na criação de vários automóveis extremamente importantes do século 20, e seu legado de design permanece formidável quase 60 anos após sua morte. Alexander Gromow – AUTOentusiastas. 15/05/2023 Acervo família Komenda Nascido…

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drowsy-siren · 3 months

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Hmmmm.... do you think orcas would hunt sirens?

Of course not! Sirens are the apex predator of the sea 😌😌😌

Orcas are more like, the monster trucks of underwater travel yknow?

Dolphins are like Volkswagen sedans. Fast, sleek, and friendly to your average driver

Whales are like public buses. Little bit slower, but more seating room, and most reefs subsidize their work to establish reliable routes

Sharks are like bicycles. Reliable, been around for ages. Truly an all-batymetry vehicle

And like the landed folks and their bikes, we have a saying down here "it's just like driving a shark!"

#I'm so eepy and this was funny to me #please submit other animals as vehicles #sirenposting #transgender #shitposting

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frenchcurious · 2 months

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Volkswagen Beetle 1950. - source Debra Lynn via Golden Age Of Travel 1830-1955.

#volkswagen

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theblue6ook · 2 months

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Shit Interview

Summary: Y/N bombs her interview at Wayne Enterprises and has no idea what she’s going to do now. [B (23) & Y/N (21)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Well hello there. If you liked this story, it’s a part of my “Out of My League” series. There will be more to come ;)

“Get the FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!” Y/N pushes past the rows of people cluttering the sidewalks, smooshed together much like the buildings surrounding them. Each person moving at their own time and own pace… as you can see that is just not quick enough.

Her legs burned as she power-walked down 5th Avenue, moving with as much power as she could muster in her borrowed heels and wrinkled pencil skirt. The checkered blazer she was previously wearing is now bunched up in her left arm as she dodges pedestrians, businessmen, and the occasional soccer mom. Her watch is peeking at her from underneath the bunched blazer and she swears at the time: 11:32 a.m. Of course, out of all the days my car could have died, it was today.

She sighed, this was not how her morning was supposed to go. Y/N had a schedule planned down to the last minute until her beat-up Volkswagen Bus decided to play dead. Everything was planned, she thought, everything was ready.

9 a.m.: wake up and scrounge for breakfast

10 a.m.: borrow some old work clothes from Carrie’s closet to look presentable

10:30 a.m.: leave the apartment in my trashcan on wheels

10:55 a.m.: arrive 25 minutes early and go over notes

11:20 a.m.: get this interview going and pray for a job

11:50 a.m.: grab some flowers and head to the hospital with (hopefully) good news

Everything was perfect. So where did it all go wrong? Well, she was ready to leave at 10:30 a.m. and when she got in her beat-up bus… click, click, click. Dead battery with no time to replace it and no one to jump it. Could this get any worse?

[Oh it definitely can!]

Y/N looks up from her watch and sees Wayne Enterprises coming into view. Once she gets close enough she throws herself up the concrete steps and swings through the revolving door, checking her watch. It’s only 11:35 a.m., she would still have 15 minutes left of her interview. Not great that I’m late, but not hopeless, she thinks. She approaches the front desk and silently hopes this receptionist will take pity on her.

Throwing her blazer on and pulling at her pencil skirt, she sheepishly says, “Hello. I have an interview with Mr.Collins, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The receptionist, a small woman about her age smiles and looks back at her computer, “M’kay. Let me see what I have here.” She types out Y/N’s name and scrolls through and stops when she clicks her tongue. “Oh honey, your appointment started twenty minutes ago.”

“Actually it was fifteen,” Y/N admits, “and I also called to let you know I was having issues with my car.”

“We ask each of our interviewees to arrive five minutes early… Mr.Collins will consider it twenty minutes late,” she gestured with her pen. “I’m sorry, but late attendees are not allowed to interview, it’s policy.”

“I called though-”

“Honestly, it does not matter-”

“I just walked all the way here from the west side,” Y/N began to grow frustrated.

The receptionist sighed and gave a sympathetic look, “There are other opportunities at Wayne Enterprises. I feel for you. I want to let you up, but I can’t. Why don’t you check out some of the other opportunities here on the website? There are thousands of jobs here, you’re bound to find something.”

She steps back from the desk, heels dragging with her. She wants to say something. She can feel it on the tip of her tongue, I have looked at the website. I have submitted applications. Why would I be here in the first place if I hadn’t? She refrains, feeling frustrated and embarrassed, pulling herself past the desk and out the door. Carrie is going to ask how the interview went, she groans, squeezing the back of her hands against her eyes. Clutching at her tote she decides to trudge towards Dorthie’s Flower Shop anyways.

There on the corner of Nottingham and Meadow sits Dorthie’s Flower Shop. Y/N sighs, here is my fortress of solitude. The same store she busted her ass in, more than a few times. The same store she put her blood, sweat, and tears into for four years. The same people she sobbed to when her dad kicked her out. Nothing changes here, except for the flowers.

She grows slower as she walks across Meadow Street. By the time she approaches the green barred door her feet feel heavy and drag. Could it be the blistering pain from commuting in cheap heels? No. It’s the fact that John… sweet, old John Garret sits inside alone and waiting. John Garret is one of the kindest… most intrusive person Y/N has ever met. The man and his late wife Dorthie practically raised her. She didn’t want to unload her day on him, not after everything he’s done for her. He would only worry, Y/N’s doing enough of that herself.

Stepping back from the doors, she decides to skip the flowers. It’s not like I really needed them anyway, she thinks. As she starts walking past, Y/N makes the mistake of glancing in the window… and there is John glancing up right at her. He grins brightly at her and shrugs his hand.

Come in, she sees him mouthing.

I really shouldn’t, she mouths back. Then he gives her that look. If she doesn’t go in he’s definitely coming outside, she bites her lip. Holding up one finger she mouths, maybe just for a minute. She nervously trips up the concrete step to get to the green doorway. That is not a good sign, she thinks. She pulls the door open with sweaty hands and hears a familiar ding!

“Well hi there, sweetie,” John messes with his phone for a moment before setting it on the counter, giving her his full attention. “Aren’t you all dressed up?”

She leans against the “Build Your Own Bouquet” table and picks at the old green paint chips that stuck to her hand, that door really needs to be repainted. “Job interview.”

“Doesn’t sound like it went too well?”

“Just stressful,” she forced a smile. “I came to get some flowers for Carrie.”

John raised his eyebrow but didn’t feel like playing chicken with Y/N. “How’s the poor girl’s treatment going?”

“Umm,” she muttered picking at her pencil skirt. Another topic I don’t have the energy to discuss. “It’s been hard, but she seems like she’s doing better,”

That was a big fib. Y/N almost felt bad for it, but it hasn’t been that long since John lost Dorthie and truthfully she doesn’t think he can take another hit. A year ago they all lost dear Dorthie Garrett. Five months ago they found out Carrie had colon cancer. Four months ago she started treatments. It has been an emotional bitch and all they can do is hope. In Y/N’s experience, hope just isn’t enough, but she’s trying… for Carrie.

John walked past the counter and put his hands on her shoulders, “Y/N, this is good news. Carrie is a tough girl. She will power through. She has to.” She sighed, stepping back from him and running her hands through her hair.

“Y/N, you can talk to me. I won’t break if something is going on. I just want to make sure you girls are okay.”

Turning away from him, she aimlessly wandered down a row of flowers. She toyed with the stray petals littering the shelving. “What kind of flowers says I just blew my latest job interview, but please, for the love of God, don’t die on me?”

“Y/N!”

“John, I am at my wits end!” She whipped around to look at him, “Carrie can’t work right now, not that I would let her if she tried, and I can’t find a job for shit.”

“Y/N. You know you always have a place here.” He stated it softly, but his eyes were firm.

Her eyes were starting to burn with frustration, “I would never put you in that position-”

“Oh my- you’ve been this stubborn since you were a little girl,” he rolled his eyes, “I know you’re reluctant to help, but I have never been reluctant to help you.”

“John-” her voice died in her throat as soon as she heard that familiar door chime. She almost took the opportunity to turn away and walk out but stopped when she noticed John had smiled. He smiled big.

“Y/N, meet the man singlehandedly keeping my business going,” He walked past her and shook the gentleman's hand. “Mr. Alfred Pennyworth.”

#batboys x reader #batmom #batman #batfam #bruce wayne x reader #slow burn #eventual romance

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 11 months

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Baby hotline

You’ve been talking to a man who calls himself big daddy for over a month now, he calls every night to talk to you. Some conversations are wholesome whereas some lead to sin. When he calls you tonight you wonder which it shall be.

Big daddy! Elvis x call girl! reader smut.

Word count: 3k.

Warnings: Descriptive talk of sex. Mutual masturbation, fingering and jerking off. Explicit detail, graphic imagery. Hint of stalking. Innocence and corruption kink. Daddy kink. Talk of prostitution. Smoking and language. Talk of unprotected sex and cream pies. Age gap of 20 years. Heavy sexual themes. Mature.

A/n: Based around 1975, Elvis is a lonely pervert looking for young 🐱.

The silk curtains were tied in the middle as you pushed them aside. The large window in the hotel room overlooks the dark alleyway of Hollywood Boulevard. A few lights were scattered throughout the building across from where you stood. Traffic was slow and the people were scarce. Cars are parked by the sidewalks. Most are Volkswagens. The block you stayed on was occupied by protestors who preached free love and peace. It was a warm inviting community that brought you here, all those months ago. However, there was a dark brooding car that made you anxious. It was out of place in the rainbow pallet. A shiny 1973 Stutz Blackhawk. It loomed over all the other vehicles, like a dark storm cloud on a clear night. The car was parked on the other side of the road, closest to your window without being directly below. It was strange but maybe they were just visiting for a session with one of the girls.

The residents of the hotel you lived at including you were either prostitutes or call girls. You being the latter. It was a movement to lift women's sexuality. You decided what's the harm in selling the most organic thing, sex. You get paid for doing it as well and won't have to see the person who's paying. A man who was your most reliable client paid the highest. You didn't know his real name or what he looked like. Only what he told you throughout the months you've known him. You knew that he liked being called big daddy, and he loved routine. He told you he had blue eyes and dark black hair, and that he was a very wealthy man. However, with all that charm came a cost. Some of the calls he made were personal, talking to you like a child. Telling you that he was a lonely man, that women didn't love him like they used to since he gained some weight. He was older, more mature. He talked to you like a guardian. He wanted to protect you, a stranger. A call girl he's never met at that.

Unabashedly you liked him more than you should. He paid fairer than most of the men you talked to, and he always kept his word to spoil you. Big daddy also had a routine of calling you, every other night at midnight. Tonight however is nearing that hour and you haven't heard a word from him. It was strange since he was a creature of habit. Has he lost interest? Surely not, sometimes he called just to talk to you. He didn't care that every minute was ten dollars he just wanted to know how his little darling was doing.

You sighed, sitting on the window banister. Propping the window open you hear Hollywood's busy atmosphere. People yelling and conversing, and the traffic. The cool night air hitting your bare thighs made you shiver. Your baggy sleep shirt isn't adapting to California’s climate.

Hitting the bottom of the pack of reds, you open the brim. Plucking one of the last cigarettes out of the box. Placing it between your lips you take the lighter you keep stuffed in the box out. Cupping your hand around the flame you light the smoke. Puffing the flame to keep it steady. You tuck the lighter back and set aside the box on the side of the sill.

If you focus hard enough you swear you could see the stars behind Hollywood's fog. You inhale the smoke and breathe it out of your nose. You feel a pit in your stomach grow as the minutes pass as he doesn't call. The embers fall onto the window pane and you throw the rest of it out, puffing a long train of smoke and pushing it out into the night.

There's rhythmic rapping on the other side of your door. The sudden noise makes you jump, your skin tingling with fear. Who could be asking for your presence at such a late stage of the night? Hesitantly you stand and walk over to your door. Wrapping your fingers around the knob, bracing yourself for what’s to come when you open. When you open it, nothing is there. You stick your head out and look at both sides. Empty. You take a step out, and your toes hit something solid. Looking down you find a box. The box is about not big, not small either. More of a rectangle than anything. One of those boxes you find at a woman’s boutique. It doesn’t have a brand but it’s a hot pink color. There’s a white bow on top, and a small card tucked under it. Did someone else’s mail get delivered to you? You crouch down and take the card out from the sash. In barely cursive writing, it reads.

To my sweet darling,

May you bless these garments, with your lovely body.

Sincerely,

Your daddy.

Briefly your cheeks heat up, and the rest of your body follows. Your hands are sweating when you pick the box up. A smile erupts across your face. He cares. However, it strikes you with fear about how much he does. For example, how did he find where you lived? Did he trace the line? Surely not, you were just overthinking. You set the box down on your bed. You tucked the card under the lamp on your side table. The only light that is shown in your room. It illuminated the pink rotary phone on standby.

You slipped the baggy shirt over your chest, the cold air of the night made your skin prickle. Your nipples pebble from the icy grasp. Your little white panties were the only thing you had on. Untying the sash you opened the box. Your eyes turned glassy, your pussy clenching around nothing. Your brain is running wild with assumptions. A dusty pink bra with a little white bow in between the cups and matching lace panties. Your ears started to ring. You took the fabric into your hands, examining your gift further. It was silk. The stitching was embroidery, not factory-made. Did he get this tailored to you? You snorted a laugh at the idiocy. But upon further inspection, picking up your chosen underwear for the night. You found a pink sticky note with the number three written on it. Three thousand dollars in one hundred bills wrapped with a pink rubber band stuffed into the crotch. You huffed a loud noise in the form of a gasp. You should've known he’d do something like this. Taking the wad out you placed it by his note.

Unclasping the delicate strap you place the bra on. It shouldn't be a shock that it fits you perfectly, but it also raised the question. How did he know? You hooked your fingers under the waistband of the white panties you had on and slipped them off. You shake your head at the damp spot in the middle. God. Did just thinking about him do this to you? He could be the ugliest man alive for all you knew. His voice though. That heavy southern drawl, that makes him sound drunk sometimes with how slow he talks. You roll your eyes and groan. There it is again, you psycho-analyzing your client. It's just business. Where is the line between client and lover? You didn't know and you're afraid that you're too far gone to understand the concept.

You slid on the soft pink ones and pulled them up your legs and they hung snugly around your hips. Bizarrely you felt a wild hit of lust. Like those smelling salts they've been selling around your street lately. A boost of confidence hits your psyche. You knew you looked pretty just from how the lingerie felt. He somehow knew what looked best on you. He knows what's best for you. You ran your palms flat over your curves, stroking yourself. Suddenly, you understood what men saw. That unbridled sexual libido.

The phone rang. Your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you ran over to the pink plastic. Kicking the box off of your bed in the midst of it all. When you first pick it up and hold it to your ear you don't hear anything. Other than the hushed sound of breathing.

“Hello?”

You whisper into the bottom. You lay flat on your stomach, anticipating who is on the other line.

“Hello, darlin’. Been missin’ you.”

Your heart hammers against your chest. You smile widely. His voice is deeper than it usually is, softer as well. He's composed.

“Really?”

Listening to his breathing fogs your thinking and makes your stomach tighten.

“Of course, honey, been thinking about you since our last call.”

You snort a little at how silly his answer was. You trail your fingers over the curly cord.

“You’re so funny daddy, our last call was yesterday. You couldn't have thought about me that much.”

Instead of the line going quiet and listening to his breathing he immediately replies.

“Trust me, yittle girl, I have.”

You start to burn. He’s thought about you so much to the point where it’s not even a question. He adjusts himself and you hear leather squelch. Is he calling you in his car? You can’t think about it for long.

“Do you like my present?”

You scoff.

“Like it? I love it, daddy! Thank you so much!”

“I was a little worried it wouldn’t fit. Had to make a guess using what you’ve told me.”

You wonder if he keeps tabs on you, a notepad dedicated to details about you. You feel flattered by the sentiment.

“Are you wearing it?”

You can hear his swallow, a thick audible sound coming from his throat. Hearing him lick his lips too. You smile.

“Mhm, it’s very pretty. Expensive too, and I noticed the cash. You didn’t have to, our call was only a couple hundred last night.”

You felt a little apologetic for the amount of money he gave you. You honestly valued the conversations you have with him, you felt saddened to know that he probably thought you only talked to him since you got paid in the end. You hear him scoff on the other side.

“Baby, I'll tell you one thing. You don't know nothin’ ‘bout me if you think I can't spoil my yittle girl.”

You smile.

“Point taken.”

It’s quiet again. His deep breathing follows, it’s strangely comforting hearing him breathing. It’s as if you were cuddled up next to him. You’d lay on his chest, rubbing your hand on his bare chest. Feeling his heart beat faster as you trail your hand lower under the waistband of his velvet track pants. You wondered what color they’d be. You know undoubtedly he wouldn’t have trouble getting hard. A pretty little thing like you was the only dose of medicine he’d ever need. You rub your thighs together trying to appease the urge to touch yourself. Fantasizing what his hands would feel like on your body. How big he was.

“Need to stop smokin’ honey.”

You blink dumbly. Your heart is running fast. How’d he know? Was he watching? No. You refuse.

“W-what?”

Your words are rushed.

“A lotta girls in the valley are startin’ to smoke those cowboy killers. They’re called that for a reason. Pretty young girls can’t take that kinda smoke. Makes your poor daddy sad seein’ them ruin’n their lives because of a fad.”

“How d’you know I smoke?”

“Like I said, lotta pretty youngins are startin’ up the nasty habit.”

Shutting your mouth you think for a few seconds, contemplating his answer. He’s most likely around your demographic all the time for his profession. He’s just in one of his overprotective moods. He’s been getting into those moods more often lately. A hint of jealousy grows a pit in your stomach. If he’s always around young women then why does he talk to you? There’s nothing special about a call girl. Or so you think.

“Daddy, do you ever think about me outside of our little talks?”

“I'm ‘fraid you got a listen’in problem. Told you before darlin’, I think ‘bout you every damn minute.”

He starts huffing, breathing quicker.

“Starts gettin’ bad when I'm on the job and I start thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

You push your hand on the mattress, laying flat on your back. Adjusting the phone to your other hand so the cord isn't in your way. Smiling mischievously to yourself. Running your nails along your stomach.

“What do you think about me when you're working?”

“Oh, Lord honey, all kinds of things. Your daddy gets so very lonesome without his yittle sweet thing. He starts thinkin’ ‘bout how it feels to have her legs wrapped around his hips. How her tiny sooties wouldn't be able to touch. If he put all his weight on her if he’d feel his cock in her stomach every time he fucks up into her.”

You can't speak, running his filthy words through your mind. How your feet wouldn't be able to touch just from how wide his hips are. The confidence he has in his size is a complete contrast to the insecurity he normally voices. You don't know what the change was in his ego but you love it. So much to the point where you cup your hand over your pussy. The warmth from your labia makes your arousal build. You can feel the dampness of your essence seeping through his lacy panties. Your clit is already swollen and throbbing from the friction of the elastic band.

“How-,”

You bite back a whimper, clutching the phone closer to your ear to hear his rapid breaths.

“How big are you?”

He chuckles under his breath, how innocent you are. He's talked to you about what he wants to do to you. You're not shy or bashful when you warm up to him. The fact of the matter was you were as much of a freak as he was, maybe even more. All you were was just a little minx.

“You know those glass co-la bottles that used to sell wild back in 55?”

“It's like that honey.”

You dip your fingers under the band of the panties, you tease the outer lips of your slit. Your folds are soaked in your juices. Hearing him talk in that dirty southern drawl makes your hips buck. The poor man can't even say cola right because of his accent. It causes your breath to hitch. You spread open the lips of your snatch and drag the wetness from your core to your clit. Up and down.

“Goddamn, I don’ even think my pinky could fit in your little cunt. I betcha you couldn't even take in your daddy's knuckle.”

He cleared his throat, the pause made you push two fingers into your fluttering hole. Automatically your back arches. You can only imagine his features pushing into you, how his cock would stretch you out. The burn of him pulling out only to plunge back in.

“How am I makin’ you feel?”

He pulls you closer to the edge, you can hear the wet squelch of your fingers fucking into your channel. Your palm flattens and rubs on your clit. Your body feels electric and pulsing with every thrust.

“Listen real close, daddy.”

You bite down hard on your lip to stifle a whine. Taking the phone from your face you place it between your thighs. Right above the hand, you're fingering yourself with. He groans loud and heavily into the speaker.

“Uh huh, mhm.”

The tension in your stomach snaps, and you can feel the rush flow from your abdomen and down into your hand. Your legs straighten out and you let go of the phone, soaking the plastic your bed and his panties. Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts as your breath becomes ragged. When you come back down to earth, the only thing you can imagine is his face stuffed into your neck telling you how good you did. You lift up and take the phone back up, wiping it off with your duvet.

“How’d that sound?”

“Lord have mercy on me.”

You smile at how astonished he sounds.

“That darlin’ sounded as good as the lord's gospel.”

“I swear to god daddy's gon’ fill you up, make you his forever. Allow you to be blessed by raising his kid. He’ll never be alone again having you as his little mama.”

This was new. His mantra about wanting to play house with you. Maybe it was because you had a crush on him or that your mind was still foggy but that didn't sound bad at all. Actually, it sounded like a dream.

“Did you cum daddy?”

He laughs into the phone, one of his warm authentic ones. The one that makes your stomach flutter.

“Honey, I finished when you told me you were wearin’ the little thing I gotcha.”

You blush, smiling wide. Maybe it's because of him telling you that he wants a future with you. Or the delusion that you'll have a life with him, but you can't help but ask him.

“When can I meet you?”

He sighs on the line, a deeply disappointing one. That crushes your soul a little. Your feelings get twisted slightly before he answers.

“Tonight.”

The line goes dead after his reply.