I was trying to get out from under him when Hogg got hold of my hair and pulled me across the seat. “Come on, finish me off, cocksucker!” He was sitting back with his knees wide and his pants open. Chin back in his neck, he grinned down at himself. Out of tangled blond, bright with slime and stuff from Denny’s ass, his cock jutted across his thigh. One ball was out the zipper, the scrotal skin loose as a chicken’s wattle. The hand he wasn’t pulling my hair with lay, palm up, beside it, callused fingers curved so I could see the dirt-wedged wrecks of his gnawed nails. His belt lay across one knee.

My head hung from his other hand. My mouth was open. Some of Denny’s cum trickled my chin. I stuck my tongue out and down to try and catch it, but it wouldn’t reach.

Hogg’s legs and belly tensed.

His cockhead lifted two inches.

He pulled my head into his lap.

I caught hold of his hand with mine and began sucking it. His dick was a bar beneath my chin. “Oh, shit,” Hogg hissed when I began to go back and forth from his little finger to his thumb to his dick. He swabbed the back of my throat with his shitty foreskin. “Stand up, Denny, and turn around again!” I heard Denny moving on the other side of the seat. I felt the belt slip from under my chest. Then Hogg’s body jerked; there was another Crack! Then a couple more.

Denny’s breath hissed, each whack.

Still sucking, I crawled around to get Hogg’s leg between mine, so I could rub off. “Yeah, you son of a bitch! Come on you little shitface bastard!” He stopped whacking and, with the hand I’d been sucking, began to jerk. His fist beat me back.

Still humping his leg, I looked: His chin was up. His shoulders shook. Between the flaps of his shirt, darkened on the flanks with sweat, his hairy chest heaved out, collapsed and heaved again. He thrust two fingers into my mouth with the hand that still clutched the belt. Brass and old leather ground my chin.

Denny was sitting over in the corner of the seat again. His head lay on the glass. He was breathing hard too. His hand was a loose claw at his violated genitals. His fingers twitched.

Hogg’s chin came down. His teeth were tight. His lips were back. Another passing car lit the wrinkles scored out from his squinting eyes. His fist blurred up and down his cock. His thighs tightened and relaxed under my arms.

The fingers pried open my mouth.

From the corner, Denny, who’d opened his eyes, whispered: “… Yeah … in the motherfucker’s face!”

Hogg’s fist rammed into his crotch hair and stayed, grinding.

The first spurt hit my upper lip.