One glance told Marie Jackson all she needed to know. White with anger, she pushed Joe away and stood in front of her trembling daughter.
"My god!" she hissed. "You two are for the high jump now. You'll never lift your heads in this town again, never mind the school."
With a last look of utter contempt at McQuire, she swung on her heel and reached up to untie the crude restraint on her daughter's wrist - then squealed in outrage as Joe grabbed her round the waist and pulled her away. She struggled violently, but fruitlessly, as he held her effortlessly, her feet off the ground, legs and arms flailing wildly.
Then, with utter disbelief, she felt his hand clamp over her left breast. Joe hummed softly as he squeezed the resilient flesh.
"Hey, not bad," he said. "They're quite firm for an old lady - and they're bigger than your little girl's. What do you say we have a look?"
Ignoring her outraged protests and struggles, McQuire pulled the bottom of Marie's sweater out of the waistband of her slacks, while Tommy silenced Sandy's screams by stuffing the handkerchief back in her mouth, then, standing behind her, slid his hand down between her legs again as he watched his friend wrestle with the girl's wriggling mother.
Sandy, too, watched, frantic with fear and disbelief, feeling Tommy's erection pressing against her hips as his fingers probed between her thighs, sliding along the lips of her moist vagina.
Joe had managed to pull her mother's sweater up to her shoulders, exposing her black lacy bra. He had her pinned up against a locker, but she was fighting him so hard that he could not spare a hand to push her brassiere out of the way. At last, he managed to momentarily hold both her wrists with one hand and, with the other, he dragged Mrs Jackson's brassiere upwards, releasing first one naked breast, then the other.
Quickly, he pulled her arms behind her body and grabbed hold of one of her full, heavy breasts. Her nipples were dark brown, almost black, and very pronounced and he sighed with pleasure as his finger and thumb squeezed one of them, hard.
"Oh, man," he said. "Hey, Sandy, you be sure and tell your old man his old lady's got one great pair of tits. Who'd a thought it - an old broad like this! Man, these nipple's are like walnuts. Hey, Tommy, get over here and gimme a hand!"
Reluctantly, Tommy detached his hand from Sandy's trembling thighs and approached the writhing woman in McQuire's relentless grip. As he stopped in front of her, McQuire, with a rapid movement, pulled her sweater up to cover her face, lifting her arms in the process. The movement made her naked breasts bounce provocatively and, automatically, Tommy stretched out his hands to feel them.
As his hands made contact, a muffled scream issued from behind the sweater. "Get a gag for her!" rapped McQuire, pulling the sweater upwards again until her contorted face was revealed. Tommy dragged a clean handkerchief from his pocket and forced it into the woman's open mouth. Suddenly, the screaming stopped and, at the same time, McQuire managed to secure his victim's wrists behind her.
"Hold her, so I can get a proper look!" he ordered Tommy, but her struggles had all but ceased and only her mute eyes flashed her outrage as Joe McQuire walked round to face her and feast his eyes on her bared breasts. He lifted his hands and hefted them gently, then looked her in the eyes.
"Mrs Jackson," he said. "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to undo your slacks, nice and neat and gentle-like, then I'm going to have a little look inside your panties. And, if you've got the blackest, hairiest fanny I've ever seen, I'm going to see if your ass is half as good as your daughter's. And, if it is, I'm going to bend you over in front of me; I'm going to take hold of these great tits; I'm going to open your legs and then I'm going to fuck you - from behind - doggy-fashion - until I come! And I'm going to do it in front of your daughter."
"And then I'm going to have a little look at Sandy's tits and, if they give me another hard-on - and I'm sure they will - I'm going to lift her up and slide her slowly down on to my hard-on and fuck her, as well. And, although I'm sure you'll be busy being fucked by Tommy by that time, I'll be expecting you to be watching. After all, I'm sure she's a virgin and it's not every Mum who gets to see her daughter's first screw."
As he spoke, his thumbs rasped across Marie Jackson's prominent nipples, but, although they were stiffly erect, her dark flashing eyes held nothing but contempt and loathing. If they also held fear, it was not for what this animal might do to her, but to her young daughter, whose agonised sobs she could hear, even now, as the other boy resumed his blatant exploration between her thighs.
Suddenly, a flash of anger crossed McQuire's face as he met her eyes. His eyes narrowed and his fingers dug sharply and painfully into her breasts. Despite herself, she could not stop the tears of pain sparking her eyelids.
McQuire brought his face right up to hers.
"Don't get snotty with me, you stuck-up bitch! I hear things, you know - like how Principal McCann took more than two hours to take you home from the last PTA meeting. A little bird told me how he was diddling your tits in the back of his Chevy for over an hour up by the creek."
Involuntarily, Marie Jackson twisted her head towards Sandy, her mind instantly recalling John McCann's hands gently caressing her naked breasts in the front seat of his car last Tuesday evening. Her face burned hot at the recollection - and the realisation that at least one of the schoolkids had been spying on them.
Sandy, however, had heard nothing. Tears pouring down her face, she was wriggling frantically, and ineffectually, in front of the other boy, who was kneeling between her thighs, his hands clutching her squirming bottom.
Suddenly, McQuire dragged Marie's bra and sweater over her head and, twisting her round, grabbed her wrists and tied them together with the thin, but tough, material of her bra. From behind her, his hands came up and gripped her naked breasts again, and his hot breath seared the back of her neck. Then his hands dropped and fumbled at the waistband of her slacks, seeking the catch. He was still behind her and outraged, Marie fumbled, with her trapped hands, at the front of his trousers. Repelled, she felt the obscene rigidity of his erection, but forced herself to push her hands downwards, beyond it, in the hope of grasping his testicles and inflicting so much pain on him that way that he would abandon all sexual thoughts, at least for long enough to give his victims some chance to raise the alarm or otherwise stave off what he had in mind.
But, just as her fingers stretched below the base of his penis, McQuire's hands returned to her breasts and squeezed them again, this time blatantly painfully. Tears sprang to her eyes as he whispered in her ear - "You touch my balls and I'll tear your tits off." She reluctantly moved her hands away and he, in turn, moved round her body to face her again. Now that he could see the front of her slacks, he easily undid the catch, and expertly slid the zip down. With utter loathing, Marie felt him slip his fingers down the front of her open slacks and experimentally press them against the springy resilience of her abundant pubic bush through her thin panties. She hardly dared contemplate the effect on him of seeing it uncovered, the mass of jet-black curly hair reaching almost to her navel.
McQuire slid his fingers further down and felt the telltale moistness in her gusset. Chuckling softly, he pushed his fingers against the damp material and Marie felt the pressure against her sensitive slit. She cursed her body for its betrayal of her. Despite her loathing of this boy, and her fear for her daughter and herself, the touch of his fingers against her sex brought about the instinctive reaction she had never been able to subdue. From an early age, she had been unable to resist the touch of a man's hand on her breasts or her vagina. Even now, she could feel her channel lubricating in anticipation of McQuire's cock plunging into her deepest recesses.
McQuire's finger was right inside her now, pushing the thin black silk of her panties inside with it and, despite herself, Marie Jackson moaned a little as he moved it around.
Sandy now had an uninterrupted view and she sensed a change in her mother. The protests had stopped and Sandy thought she recognized the soft sounds emanating from her as McQuire dug his fingers obscenely between her thighs.
