Chapter 5

Robin slipped out of her bikini halter, sliding the skimpy garment down her arms and letting it dangle over Midnight’s upturned nose, teasing him with it.

His tongue lolled from his mouth as he lay on the foot of her bed and snapped playfully at the halter, his tail thumping against the bed like a rug duster.

She teased him with the halter and then dropped it and bent down to hug him around the neck. Midnight whined and tossed his muzzle, licking her face and neck and the side of her arm wetly.

“What should I do, Midnight?” Robin asked him quietly. “I feel so different about Pete now. What should I do?”

Midnight’s eyebrows winked alternately at her. His expression was solemn, as if he could understand what she was saying. His tongue came out and licked at the cone of her left tit, plucking under it and rippling over the nipple.

Robin felt another thrill go through her body. It had been like that all the rest of the afternoon and evening, just thinking about Pete’s spurting prick, still feeling it inside her throat.

Logan had caught her eye several times, too—little reminders that he was going to make good on his word to pay her back later on tonight for getting Pete and her mother to quit talking.

Now, she didn’t know what to do. She’d wanted Logan to fuck his big prick into her because Pete was such a clod. It wasn’t that she liked Logan all that much. She didn’t, really. But he was a fucker, and Robin was itching to be fucked.

Only now, Pete didn’t seem like such a little boy any more. The way he’d held on to his boiling load until just the right moment had impressed her and made her think that maybe he had possibilities after all.

To tell the truth, after that episode in the guest house, Logan frightened her just a little. He’d been too intense. Too kinky. Too ready to make her do weird things.

And while it was all well and good to have a little rivalry with her mother, some of the things Pete had said had been working on her the past few hours.

Maybe she’d gone overboard a little herself.

After all, her mother was her mother. It was one thing to bug her a little. It was another to become a little bitch and sling her pussy around and try to take her mother’s man away from her.

What the hell would she do with him if she did?

There was another thing about Logan. He’d piloted the boat to some cove late in the afternoon and had begun really giving her mother a sales pitch on his shrimp-farm idea.

Again, he’d been too intense, too grandiose in the claims of money to be made-after the initial investment, which he wouldn’t talk about until he’d done a little more study.

Robin didn’t know why she’d had a queasy feeling when he’d talked about it. Maybe it had been the expression on Pete’s face. Maybe it had been the way her mother had brought up the caution they would have to exercise again and again—part of what Robin was rebelling against.

Anyway, the meaning of what Logan had been talking about had sunk into her young head for the first time. That, and the knowledge that she was involved with what her mother did, no matter how much she’d tried to ignore such matters.

The money her father had left was hers, too.

She passed her hand over Midnight’s sleek head and looked at him. “Why didn’t he want Mother to talk to Pete about his father’s work, Midnight?” she asked.

Midnight lapped out with his tongue and licked the tip of her other tit again and again, pausing once to grin at her and lick his chops.

Robin stood up. Her nipple was taut and red from the stimulation, stretching from the pointing end of her tit. She looked at her dog and thought about letting him lick her pussy until she came.

She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her bikini panties and pushed down, slipping them from the round swells of her ass-cheeks. They slipped down her legs to the floor, and she stepped out of them and passed her hand over her twat, fanning the golden pubes.

She looked at Midnight. He was watching her closely, his head cocked to the side, his ears half-erect. He licked his chops quickly and thumped his tail on the bed and then went still again, eyeing her pussy intently.

Robin felt her cunt-tunnel throb. She glanced towards her bathroom door and knew she should go shower. She squeezed her pussy with a moment’s indecision and then hurried towards the bathroom. If she hurried, she would have time to do both before Logan showed up again to take them out to dinner.

She slipped under the shower and soaped her slim, willowy body quickly, running her palms over her nipples and cupping them under the firm cones of her tits.

She squeezed the slippery mounds and moaned softly, feeling heat build inside her again. She rubbed her soaped palms over her round, tight buttocks, dipping into the deep cleft between them and running the tip of her finger around her tight, virginal asshole.

The sensation made her gasp. It made her pussy-lips bloat fully and her cunt start leaking slippery honey again.

She closed her eyes and wondered what it would feel like to be fucked up her ass. She’d heard of it. She wondered if Pete would do it, or would he revert to his puritanical old self and whimper and carry on until she had to force him into that, too.

Logan would fuck her asshole. She felt certain of that. Logan would fuck her nostrils. Or would he have Midnight fuck her asshole, instead?

Robin washed her running pussy, circling her fingers over her clit, massaging the puffy petals, even slipping her finger up inside her cunt to feel the way her silky muscles gripped and spasmed around it.

She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. Midnight was there, as if waiting for her, as if knowing that he would catch her off guard.

His tail swished over the tile floor. He dipped his head several times and then began licking the water from her legs, his long tongue lapping and rasping up the smooth thighs towards her pussy.

Robin stood there, dripping water from her arms and the ends of her tits, and watched him. She spread her legs slightly, opening her crotch. Then she shivered sweetly when his tongue slurped over her cunt-lips and wobbled the puffy petals.

“Oh, you horny dog,” she moaned fondly. “That’s all you can think of any more, isn’t it? Well, all right. But you’ve got to hurry, boy.”

She went over to the towel rack and began blotting her fine body with it. Midnight lapped at her crotch all the while, his feet beginning to prance up and down now as he grew more excited.

She could even see the red, slick shaft of his cock jerking in and out of his hairy, wobbling sheath, and she wondered if she dared let him fuck her again.

“Ohhhhhh, God—hurry, boy, hurry!” she moaned, tossing the towel aside and heading for her bed, Midnight at her heels.

She couldn’t suppress the small yip of surprise when her door opened and her mother walked in.

Robin halted where she was and stared. There was something about her mother’s expression and the half-militant stride and the firmness with which she turned and closed the door that made Robin not even bother with the false modesty of putting her hand over her pussy or her arm over her tits.

“I want to talk to you, Robin,” Christine said firmly.

Robin swallowed. Immediately, she wondered if Logan had said something. No, not him—Pete. Pete had squealed on her!

Midnight, dumb dog that he was, didn’t see any reason to stop what he was doing, and he didn’t. He thrust his muzzle right into Robin’s damp, naked crotch and lapped upward, sinking his squirming tongue right between her cunt-lips and halfway into her slippery, ready pussy.

“Unnnnnh!” Robin groaned, jerking her hips back, making her twat-hole slide off his tongue with a wet sound. She swallowed again. She looked down at her dog and put on a good show.

“Midnight!” she howled. “Oh, you naughty dog! You get over there and lie down, right now!”

She pointed her finger furiously, her tits jiggling with the motion of her arm. Midnight whimpered guiltily and lowered his head, wondering what he’d done wrong. Then he turned and slunk away into the corner.

Robin looked at her mother. Christine stared from her daughter to the dog and back again, then licked her lips. Her expression changed for just a moment, taking on a lustful quality. Then she shivered and appeared stern again.

“I want you to stop seeing Pete,” she stated, making as much a command of it as she’d ever made of anything.

Robin blinked at the suddenness of it. “Mother!” she cried, unable to believe how the order made her feel. It pointed up just how much she was beginning to love him. “What for, Mother?”

“Because I said so.”

“You said so?” It had come out without thought. But now that she heard the question, she began thinking about it.

“Now, I don’t want any argument about this, Robin. You know what I’ve thought all along about Pete—about how he wasn’t good enough for you. Well, after what I know you did today on the boat, so brazenly, and sluttishly, my mind’s made up.”

“We didn’t do anything, Mother!”

“Don’t you try to lie to me, young lady! I know perfectly well what you were doing!”

Robin swallowed again. She stood there. She felt fury boil up inside her, but she held it down for once. She knew that tantrums only hardened her mother’s position. Besides, there was more to this than met the eye.

“What was I doing, Mother?” she asked calmly, a small smile coming to her lips. “Tell me what you thought I was doing. Describe it to me, Mommy.”

Christine clenched her jaw and made a thin line of her full lips. Her nostrils flared slightly. “Don’t you toy with me, you young slut, or I’ll...”

Robin looked at her mother levelly. “Yes, Mommy?” Her lip curled slightly. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing if I disobey you, are you sure it would be all right with Daddy?”

“Don’t you dare mention your father’s name in context like this,” Christine flared.

“Why not, Mommy? Does it make you feel guilty?”

“Guilty? Me? What on earth are you talking about? Why should I feel guilty? I haven’t done anything to feel guilty about. You’re the one who should feel guilty—and totally ashamed. Oh! I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe that you’d do such a revolting thing!”

“But I’m still not sure what you think I did, Mommy,” Robin responded quietly, taunting her mother to the limit without meaning to this time.

“I knew all along that boy was trash. I don’t care what his father did or does or anything else about him. And I can’t believe that you would allow him to demean you in such a vile fashion. There has to be some good reason why Pete’s mother left Thorne and why Thorne hasn’t been able to remarry. I think maybe I know what it is, now, and I don’t want you to see either one of them, ever again!”

Robin felt the top of her scalp go prickly. But, despite her anger, she knew that it was her fault. Partially her fault, anyway.

She held up her hand as if to silence her mother for a moment. “Now, wait a minute, Mom, I want to—”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“You mean I can’t say anything? I can’t talk? My God, Mother—what has Logan done to you! Daddy would have let me talk, and you know it! Explain that to his ghost!”

Christine recoiled as if slapped. Her eyes wavered. “All right,” she said weakly. “I’ll listen.”

Robin sucked in her breath. She didn’t know where to start. “I lied to you, Mother. About Mr. Bast.”

“Lied?”

“Well, I let you believe all this time that he was a fisherman. And I guess I told you that Pete’s mother left Mr. Bast. That wasn’t true. He kicked her out. She screwed every prick she saw.”

“Robin!”

“She wasted his money terribly. She even stole from him.”

“Of course, Thorne told you that,” Christine said skeptically.

“No, Pete did. He’s the one who caught her doing all those things. Thorne trusted her. Pete said it really shook him up. The reason he hasn’t remarried is that he doesn’t want to trust another woman again.” She looked at her mother oddly. “Sounds a little like you, Mom.”

“That sounds nothing like me. Is that all?”

Robin saw she’d gotten nowhere. “Just tell me one thing. Logan put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“That’s insulting! Nobody puts me up to anything, Robin Eglund! I make up my own mind. And what you’ve said hasn’t changed it a bit. You’re not to see him any more.”

“You go to hell!” Robin cried, breaking finally. “And don’t you call them trash any more! It’s Logan Gorman who’s the trash around here, only your cunt’s so quivery and wet lately that you refuse to see it!”

“Oh! How dare you! I’ve never—”

“Now, don’t you try to lie to me, Mother! I saw you the other night on the sofa with your twat spread wide and his big prick slopping around in it!”

Christine paled and rocked on her heels. “You were at the movies with Pete!” she wailed.

“We came home early. We stood outside the window and watched you get your widow’s pussy fucked full of hot, boiling sperm!”

“Pete...”

“Yes, Pete! Only get it straight that I was the one who made him watch, not the other way around. He was such a puritan, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Oh, my God...” Christine whispered raggedly, putting her hand to her mouth, shame coursing through her.

“As for, today, he didn’t want me to do that, either. But I made him let me suck his cock off. And I sucked the cum right out of it, Mommy! I sucked his hard, bucking prick clear into my throat, until my tongue was wrapped around the bottom of his balls! But do you know what made him come, Mommy? It was watching you!”

“What?”

“Watching you hang in the hatch while Logan ate your cunt out and made you come and come!”