He leaned closer.
His mouth found hers. She pressed her lips shut. She turned her head. He followed. He pressed harder. His tongue pushed against her closed lips. The saliva dripped. He grunted. He grabbed her tit with his free hand. He squeezed. The flesh spilled between his fingers.
"Open your mouth," he said. "I want you to show him very dirty."
His cock touched her thigh.
The hot, wet, blunt head pressed against the inner curve of her leg. It moved upward. Toward the white panties. Toward the cleft that was visible through the thin fabric. The men holding her ankles spread her wider. Her pussy was open beneath the cotton. The fat man positioned himself.
He was going to enter.
He was going to tear the panties. He was going to push into the crying woman while her son watched. He was going to—
The burst happened.
There was no light. There was no sound. There was simply a moment where the four men existed, and then a moment where they did not.
They became mist.
