"Well, just keep your Goddam hand over her mouth," the driver chuckled, shifting into second and speeding up as the car hurried down the narrow country road. "I don't want no screams coming from this here pick-up truck while I'm driving it."

"Shoot, Pop. An old man like you, they'd think it was just pigs," Billy joked.

"Takes an older man to know the difference."

Ellen felt Billy's large muscular hand in a tight grip on her waist. The coarsened palm of his other hand pressed so strenuously against her slightly parted mouth that it felt like her lips were splitting over her own teeth. Her head had twisted and her cheek lay on the thigh of the other man with her face forced almost into his lap. A pungent masculine smell emanated from his spread open loins and permeated the air around her face, filling the whole of her every choking breath.

Tears of helpless terror streamed from Ellen's eyes as an image of Phil's long white cock sinking into her sister Jennifer's open and glistening vagina raced through her tortured mind, and she sobbed helplessly as she was hit with the horrible realization that she too might soon be filled with the brutal erect flesh of one of these crude men who had forced her off the country road into the truck.

"Oh God, please don't let it happen, please don't let them do that to me. Not that, dear God. Not what those boys did to Jennifer."

"Keep her trap shut, we're passin' another bunch of beach houses," the tense voice of the older man driving spoke again.

"Boy, these people got beach houses that don't quit."

"You shut up, too. Everyone be quiet."