We had just dropped our three kids off at a local theater and pulled away from the curb. Frank was in great spirits and hadn't stopped talking since he got the news. The job that saved our home was his, at least for a three month probationary period. The pay was nearly double what he expected, and he felt confident of landing a permanent position.

I was relieved, even happy, but I'd been in a silent stew since leaving Blake Stone's office. As soon as the kids were out of earshot, I turned abruptly to Frank and shouted, "Do you know what that son-of-a-bitch had the nerve to do?"

Frank's dream balloon appeared ready to burst. He said, "Honey, what could he have done? I was only out of the office five minutes; besides, the kids were right there with you the whole time."

"Frank, it wasn't me he did anything to. That bastard fondled Sherry. He pulled her up on his lap and fondled her right in front of me."

"Honey, calm down. Just what are you calling fondling? I saw her on his lap when I came back. She looked fine to me."

I scooted up next to Frank and grabbed his right hand. I brought it up under my skirt, clear to the tops of my thighs, and said, "What do you call this?"

He smiled a devilish grin and rubbed my inner thigh, saying, "I call it my lucky day." I knew right away that placing his hand near my vagina was a mistake. He was in far to good of spirit not to take advantage of my one major weakness: I have never been able to say no once my pussy gets stimulated. He said, "Honey, I know he never put his hand this far up a twelve-year-old's leg."

"This is where he started." I jammed his hand between my legs, saying, "This is where it was most of the time. Don't tell me I didn't see it, either. I was sitting three feet from him, and he was facing me with her legs straddling his." Frank's hand cupped my sex, pressing along my wet slit with his middle finger. In a much quieter tone, I said, "Frank. What are you doing? Didn't you hear me? Your new boss did this to our little girl. Pete and Sandy saw it too. He was leering at me the whole time, challenging me to say something."

"But you didn't, right."

"No! I was too stunned. He did it to show me he could do it and get away with it. It was like he was saying, "How badly do you want this job?"

"And your silence told him. I'm not that surprised. They way you begged and pleaded for my job, I thought you were about to drop to your knees and go for his zipper. He didn't need to know how desperate we were."

Frank began fondling my pussy. I said, "Frank, stop doing that. This is serious."

"No, I want to determine exactly what he did. Is this all he did, hold his hand between her legs?"

"No, and I could see everything. Her skirt was bunched up in her lap. We all had a clear view of his meaty fingers squeezing her vagina."

"Like this?" Frank's hand palmed the full plane of my sex and gave a big squeeze, repeating it several times in succession.

I slumped back in the seat as he asked, "Is this all he did?"

"No, he drew his middle finger up her cleft, pushing the crotch of her panties between her lips."

"Like this?"

"Yes! He did that for quite a while, stroking, stroking, pushing deeper. Yes! Yes! Like that."

"And did Sherry's panties get wet like yours are?"

"Yes, they were sopping wet. You could see right through them. We could see her lips mold around his finger as he stroked her pussy."

"Her pussy, huh?"

"Yes, her pussy. A vagina that starts drooling is a pussy, a cunt, a twat."

"And Sherry had a pussy." I bit my lower lip and just nodded. "Okay, did he do anything else?"

"Yes, he slipped his index finger under the leg-band of her panties, and we saw it dip between her lips."

"Like this?"

"Yes, he hooked his finger inside her little hole, Frank. Yes, he did that, just pulled and distorted it, occasionally running up to her little clit and rubbing it. Yes, Oh God, yes!"

"And of course, you said nothing."

"No! I watched. I was mesmerized until Pete placed his hand on my leg, just above my knee, staring at his sister's crotch the whole time. Frank, he was so bold. He's never touched me like that before. He kept squeezing and rubbing, slowly inching up, pushing my skirt up. Mr. Stone was staring at Pete's hand and smiling. He could probably see my panties. Pete managed to get his hand way down on the inside of my thigh, not three inches from my panties."

"Your wet panties?"

"Fuck, yes, they were wet! I had to place my hand on Pete's to get him to ease up."

"You didn't take his hand away?"

"No, I was so confused. I only knew I had to stop him from going any further. Poor Sandy didn't know who to watch. Her eyes darted from my leg to Sherry's pussy and back... For a fifteen-year-old honor student and born-again Christian, she took it all rather well."

"Did Pete stop?"

"He didn't stop kneading and squeezing, but he stopped advancing on my crotch. That is, until Mr. Stone reached over with his other hand and ripped the crotch out of Sherry's panties. When he did that and exposed Sherry's hairless, wet, pink slit, Pete squeezed so hard it hurt. When Stone started jabbing his stubby finger in and out of her hole real fast, and Sherry drew her legs up and laid her knees out, Pete made a grab for my twat. I clamped my legs together on his hand and held his wrist. His fingers were clawing at my crotch, driving me mad. Sandy just sat there with her mouth open."

Frank mimicked the story's action by rapidly finger-fucking me. I cried out, "Oh, yes, honey! Do that harder. Make me cum, sweetheart. You should have seen your little girl; she was shameless. Yes, yes!"

I shuddered out a terrific climax, then collapsed my head on Frank's shoulder. I took a few minutes to catch my breath as Frank continued to toy lazily with my pussy. I turned dreamy eyes up to him and said, "I really blew it, Frank. I should have said something. What will those kids think of me now? Pete felt my vagina. I couldn't help it. You know how I get when you touch me there. I didn't do much resisting."

"Are you saying he penetrated you?"

"Well, yes, I wasn't quite as brazen as Sherry, but we were both getting the same treatment and staring at each other's crotches as it was happening. I hate to admit this, but we came about the same time, too. I tried to hold it in, but you know how successful I am at that. How do I go back to being his mom after letting him finger fuck me?"

"Well, I can imagine what Pete thinks. He probably thinks you're wonderful, the best mom on Earth. Not many moms let a boy do that."

"I can see why. It could easily become habit forming. I'll bet Sandy thinks I'm some kind of slut. I don't even want to think about what Sherry thinks. They're probably in that theater talking about me right now."

"I couldn't blame them. I doubt they think any the worse about you, though. They knew what a bind we were in. Hell, they probably think you're a hero for landing me this job. Now that I know what went down, it's plain that you did. I'm not qualified for this job and you know it."

"You know what that means. This won't be the last time. What happens when he tries to fondle Sandy. I can't see Sandy being as complacent as Sherry. He picked the right one."

"Yeah, I'll bet she just melted in his arms from the get-go."

"Frank, she did. That girl amazes me. She had no qualms about having his hands between her legs, and seemed to enjoy having us looking on."

"I told you that she was the one to watch, not Sandy. Sandy will still be a virgin three years after Sherry starts pulling trains."

"Don't talk like that about our baby, Frank. She's just a little precocious, that's all. It's Pete that worries me. This scene affected him deeply. It changed him some how. Can you imagine grabbing your mother between her legs?"

"Well, it was a rather bizarre circumstance. I can't see him simply walking up to you and shoving his fingers up your pussy."

"I'm not so sure, Frank. By remaining silent, I sent him some sort of message I never intended to send."

"I'll talk to the boy."

"No, don't say anything. I'm curious to see how he acts towards me now."

"Suit yourself. I'll stay out of it. So, what do we do about the job?"

"I don't know. What can we do?"

"All I need is a few paychecks, Bonnie."

"Well, you can bet I'm not bringing those kids anywhere near that office."

It was my idea to return to the theater alone to pick up the kids. I wanted time alone with them, time to talk things out, set them straight. I had the best of intentions and a well-rehearsed speech. When Pete climbed into the front seat and scooted up close, I froze. Sandy sat by the front passenger window and Sherry had the back seat to herself. She talked non-stop about the movie. I waited for an opening to speak. Just as I formed the words, Pete's left hand dropped on my lap, taking my breath away. My whole body burned when I felt the light touch of his fingers on my bare leg, just beyond the hem of my skirt. I could feel Sandy's eyes slyly keeping an eye on Pete's hand. Sherry hung over the seat back leaning over my right shoulder. With her head next to mine, she kept talking, but her focus was on her brother's hand the whole time.

I tried hard to concentrate on my driving, trying to ignore the weight of his hand as it fell further between my thighs with every pedal movement. He managed to get his fingertips on bare inner thigh flesh midway between my crotch and my knee. I gathered my courage to put an end to the charade, but each time, delayed doing anything. All the while, Pete teased my sensitive skin with tiny circular motions of his fingertips and nails.

Had the three of them conspired to do this, I wondered. Had they discussed a plan? Did Sherry dare her brother to try it? Sandy was conspicuous by her silence. Normally the first to point out someone else's wrongs, she sat in silence, watching. And Sherry, never one to be shy or let an indiscretion go without comment, seemed to be going out of her way to distract me. Working over those bizarre possibilities did more to distract me than Sherry's non-stop monologue. They appeared to be working in concert.

I began to entertain the possibility of doing nothing and saying nothing. I weighed the possible outcomes. I imagined driving home with Pete's fingers in my pussy while Sandy and Sherry watched. I fought this idea. My horny pussy applauded the idea and my legs joined the rebellion. They relaxed of their own accord. As my knees fell out a few inches, Pete took it as a sign of partial surrender. He shifted position and changed to his right hand. His hand turned up towards my pussy and crept up my inner thigh by several inches. If there was ever a time to call a halt, that was it. Part of my mind screamed for action, but a stronger part forced me to inaction. By this time most of my body parts were in the rebel camp. Sweat beaded on my brow as his fingers neared my pounding vagina. My rational mind felt trapped in a body determined to commit an outrage against natural morality and decency.

My traitorous legs gave another few inches and inspired Pete to turn onto his side to face me. He did not look into my face but stared at his own hand, fascinated at its proximity to my crotch. My skirt was bunched up at the crotch, exposing most of my legs. Sherry had stopped talking and Sandy sat forward to peer around Pete.

I nervously guided the car away from any others, keeping a close eye out for trucks and vans that could look down into the car. When Sherry stopped talking, I made a decision to allow Pete to do whatever he had planned. I turned off of the well-traveled route, taking a longer way, going slow. Pete took this as a sign of my total surrender and cupped his hand over my pussy, making me stiffen and draw a deep breath. He squeezed and molded the wet fleshy lips as Sherry climbed forward, half-hanging over my shoulder. I focused my attention on driving, having to lean left to see around Sherry. Pete worked his fingers under the leg-band and insinuated two into my moist cleft, seeking my hole. He found it waiting and eased inside, bringing a deep flush to my cheeks.

I glanced over to Sandy and noted her obvious interest, surprised not to see a look of scorn or condemnation. Sherry broke the tense silence, saying, "I can't see." She reached down and gathered the skirt above my waist, completely exposing my pink panties and an inch of bare midriff. Pete pushed at the crotch material with little success. He then tried pulling the waist band below crotch level, but that failed to produce satisfactory results. In frustration, he grasped the waistband in both hands near my hip bones and tugged, moving the panties lower all around. Frustrated, as they were blocked by my weight sitting on the material, he pulled hard, fighting to uncover my loins. In a bold, impulsive decision, I brought my knees together and lifted my ass free of the seat. Pete deftly worked the panties down off my ass and slid them down my legs to below the knees. I pulled my left leg free, letting the panties slide down my right.

With Sherry still holding my skirt up, I was naked from the waist down. Pete went back to playing with my pussy with much more freedom of movement. He used his left hand to part my lips and his right to explore. I basked in the wickedness of it all and glanced over to Sandy. Sandy had a glazed look of perverse fascination which relieved me of my worst fear: her condemnation.

At this point, I gave myself over to the full enjoyment of Pete's assault. He grew more aggressive and confident. He shoved my left knee out to the door. My cunt yawned open, obscenely and he inserted three fingers in my hole. Sherry eased lower and reached her tiny hand into my crotch, competing with Pete's. A verbal battle ensued as each claimed their rights and their turn. Having my kids fight over my pussy was by far the most bizarre sensation I'd ever experienced. The fight demanded parental mediation, but I was lost in the moment.

Since first getting in the car, no one acknowledged me directly. They treated me as though I were a toy, an object, or a woman under a spell. I knew that speaking out, saying anything, would break that delicious spell. I glanced right and observed Sherry's bare left thigh near my cheek, her ass sticking up over the seat back. My pussy loved being fought over.

Sandy surprised me by jumping into my parental role. She reached back and slapped Sherry hard on the back of her right thigh, shouting, "Back off, Sherry. This was Pete's idea. Leave him alone."

Sherry did back off, easing up and standing on the back floor, still peering over while rubbing her thigh. We have a firm rule about hitting, and under normal circumstances, Sandy's smack would have brought Sherry screaming to me for justice. I awaited the cry. She protested, "I'm telling Dad that you hit me."

Sandy said, "Go ahead, and I'll tell him why."

Sherry cried, "It's not fair. Why can't I have a turn?"

Pete said, "Because it's mine, that's why."

My heart leapt in my chest. I could not believe his bold declaration. A heavy silence ensued as they seemed to be waiting for me to challenge his claim. I had no intention of reclaiming my traitorous vagina. It had waved the white flag miles past. I sat passively while Pete crudely finger-fucked me. He brought me to a fantastic climax, three blocks from home. Nothing was said about the way I ground my cunt on his fingers and moaned out my release. As I pulled into the garage, Pete withdrew his hand and adjusted my skirts. After turning off the ignition, Pete reached down and removed my panties from my right ankle. He stuffed them into his jeans.