"Ungh." Maybe in her late 40's, I didn't know her name. Pounding away at her bent-over in-front of me. Jessica huskily whispering in my ear, "Fuck her. Harder. This Skank loves that big cock." Each time she'd say something, I'd get closer to cumming.
I couldn't believe this was happening. A hot summer day, a few boring towns over. Jess had convinced me to go with her and get beer. Mind you, we're 18. We were driving and she turned on 'Breaking the Law' by Judas Priest.
"Let's go get some beer, Ricky!"
"We're 18, Jess. They won't sell it to us, or they'll call the cops..." I trailed off.
"I know a place," she directed me there. We were remote, a small mill-town that had gone belly-up, like so many others, now only loosely populated with a few odds and ends.
"This town can't afford their own cops, they rely on the county sheriffs."
We pulled into the convenience store that doubled as a hair salon. It was early in the afternoon, hot, humid. The only vehicle in the lot. We walked in and browsed. Jess, grabbed two 30-racks and put them on the counter. The clerk, an aging late forties woman who probably smoked and drank too much, was ringing up Jess. She had large D-cups that were beginning to sag and wore too much make up, maybe still trying to look like an 80's wild-child.
"No ID, no beer." I overheard a raspy, worn-out voice state.