My stepfather couldn't hold it in the car.

It all started as a seemingly normal outing. I got into my stepfather’s car without giving it much thought, wearing the same light clothing I always wear when the heat is intense. At first, he drove in silence wearing that look I know so well the kind that needs no words to convey exactly what he wants. The drive dragged on longer than necessary. He turned off the main road onto a dusty track winding through the trees, far from any houses or passing cars when he killed the engine, the silence grew heavy. There was no time to ask his large, hot hand was already on the back of my neck, pushing me forward across the seat.