As the rustic old service station grew closer, she saw a soda machine out front. Like an oasis in the desert or a magnet to the metal of her car. She ...ulled into the Indian Reservation Station, directly in front of the soda machine. Lynn turned the car key off and the motor quit. She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and with her other hand released the door handle. The car door swung open and she rolled out of the low riding Saab. Her blouse was soaking wet across her back. Lynn shut. Her head was down and resting on her right cheek. Her mouth was open and her eyes half closed. Drool ran from her open mouth much like it was running from her recently fucked and gaping cunt. Still holding her by the hips, my tempo increased. I was literally slamming into her depths and she was a mess: back covered in a perspiration-induced sheen, eye makeup running, mouth open and drooling and best of all, my cock slamming into her now-relaxed anal cavity. She accepted her fate and seemed to. Rob caught my eye and gave me an awkward shrug. "Too many guys." By the time Mom finished up with Patrick, my balls ached. It didn't matter that I'd already got my rocks off twice, once by my hand and once by my sister's mouth. Patrick went over to the farthest couch to share Holly with his cousin. Rob gave me a thumbs up, said, "Looks like you're up." Mom smiled at me as I approached. Heart racing, I took my spot on the coffee table. Mom kissed me on either cheek, whispered Merry Christmas in. As I pulled my top back up with my free hand, he grabbed the wrist and held it down too. He was grunting with each thrust, staring at my face with that same look in his eyes. When I looked away, all I saw was the thin man, still standing over me, stroking his cock and rubbing some lotion onto it. Oddly, I remember wondering where he got lotion from. I closed my eyes and just laid there as he rammed himself inside me. At one point he leaned down and start kissing my lips, and sliding.