Chapter 4

I watched you fucking and sucking...

I just happened to be coming by to talk to you when I glanced through the window and...

Pete bit the side of his cheek and watched Robin move about inside the cabin of the boat. His pulse pounded. He was right on the edge of going down there and trying to talk to her, but he couldn't work up the nerve.

The engines throbbed under him. Stray air currents brought the scent of exhaust over the transom and into his nostrils. He watched Robin come up the steps from the cabin and onto the back deck, her sandwich and a drink in her hands.

She wore her bikini. Somehow, he hadn't noticed how full and thrusting her tits were before. Or maybe they'd gotten fuller in the past two days from being fucked. Maybe that's what it did to girls. Maybe that was the way you tell when a girl had been fucked.

He wasn't the only one to watch her come up from the cabin. Pete shifted his eyes just as Robin stooped, and he saw Logan glance down from his seat behind the wheel, and he knew the horny old bastard was getting an eyeful of those swollen tits. Pete's stomach churned with anger and envy so much he didn't notice that Robin's mother was watching him closely from the other deck chair.

"Are you getting hungry, too, Pete?" Chris asked him. "There's plenty of food down there. I don't know why Lo--Mr. Gorman insisted we bring so much."

"Aw, cut out the mister, Chris," Logan said, turning his head back. "Pete and I know each other well enough by now he can call me Logan. Right, buddy?" he grinned at Pete.

Pete held his gaze for just a moment and then had to look away. He could feel his lip curling away from his teeth, and he didn't want to put on an expression that would make Mrs. Eglund's opinion of him any lower.

"No thanks, Mrs. Eglund," he said finally. "I don't feel hungry."

He noticed she didn't offer to let him call her Chris. He noticed she didn't offer to let him eat a second time, either, but kept watching him with that cool, distant expression, as if he were some kind of bug that wasn't quite trustworthy.

Don't watch me, lady--watch that bastard Gorman instead! He's been fucking your daughter!

Pete looked at her. He wished sometimes he had more guts. Then he'd tell them all just what he was thinking. He might even ask himself what the hell he was doing out on the boat all day with them.

Chris finally took her eyes from him. "Are we going to fish, Logan, or do you just want to ride around?"

"Maybe we can give it a try," Logan said.

"I'm sure Pete must like fishing, don't you, Pete?"

"It's okay, Mrs. Eglund."

Her brows went up. "Oh? I thought your father--I mean, I heard that you and he... Doesn't he fish commercially?"

Pete stared at her. "Gosh, no! Where'd you hear a thing like that?"

Chris' eyes swiveled towards Logan for just a second, giving him the answer. Pete's stomach churned again. So that was why she thought he wasn't good enough for her daughter! Gorman again!

"Dad's retired, Mrs. Eglund," Pete said evenly, feeling a charge of courage for the first time in his life. "He has a little tourist shop where he makes carvings and sculptures from pieces of driftwood."

"Yes, I know, but I thought for a living he--"

"That's not his living, Mrs. Eglund. That's his hobby. That's for something to do to keep him creative and busy. So he doesn't stagnate like some--"

"Pete!" Robin shot at him.

He lowered his eyes and sucked in his breath. When he looked up again, there was a different expression on Chris' face, one of curiosity and reflectiveness.

"I'm sorry, Pete," she said. "I knew he had a boat, and I-"

"Yes, we have a boat. It's not as big as this one. It could be, Mrs. Eglund, but we don't need it. He runs around in it collecting his pieces of driftwood to work on. Once in a while, we catch a mackerel for dinner, just the way you do, but no more."

"Pete, you're being positively nasty to my mother!" Robin cried.

"Since when have you ever cared whether I'm spoken to civilly, darling?" Chris scoffed. "Be quiet, now, I want to hear more. Go on, Pete. Tell me what your father is retired from."

"If anybody wants to fish now, we're coming up on the grouper banks," Logan broke in quickly and loudly. "Robin, why don't you get the gear out, and--" he leaned towards her and whispered so the others couldn't hear-- "and I'll make it worthwhile for you tonight, huh?" He spread his thighs on the seat in a sly way, hunching his bulge of cock and balls into prominence.

"He was a business analyst," Pete said firmly, looking from the pair of them towards Robin's mother again. "A good one. He still does some consulting work once in a while, determining whether a business idea will work or not."

"Oh, really?" Chris commented, lifting her brows. She leaned forward and opened her mouth to ask a question.

"Pete, come take the wheel," Logan said with undisguised command now. "Honey, you come up front with me and give me a hand with the anchor rope."

He slid from the bench. He came over and took Chris' hand and pulled her to her feet. He cast a look at Pete that was expressionless and deadly at the same time. Then he half pushed Chris in front of him, making her go down the little steps into the cabin.

"But I wanted to talk to him more, Logan," she complained.

"You can talk to him later. I've got something better in mind right now."

He closed the cabin door behind him, shutting off the back deck and the two kids. He grinned down at her, then slid his hands around her shoulders and pulled her slim body against his, making her firm tits push against his chest.

"Now, Logan..." Chris gasped, putting up a token struggle.

"That's what I had in mind," he grinned. "Right now."

He shifted his hands from her shoulders, sliding them down the supple, curved length of her spine to her ass. He cupped the firm, round cheeks and kneaded the globular meat through her shorts and panties.

"Oh..." Chris moaned softly. "Logan, you're mad! Not here! Not in front of the children!"

"They'll never know. Come with me."

He pulled her forward into the bow compartment. Two bunks veed together with the lines of the bow. The hatch was just overhead. He closed the small door between the compartment and the cabin, then worked the wing nuts on the hatch and pushed it up and open.

Fresh air spilled through the round hole into the little enclosure, and they could hear the prow hitting waves right under their feet,

"Stick your head out the hole, Chris. Take a big whiff of fresh air. Look around the horizon. Wave back at them."

"Logan, what..." she gasped again.

He lifted her, wrapping his arms around her slim waist. Chris had little choice but to spread her legs to brace her feet on the two bunks.

She protruded from the deck from her belly up. The rush of wind blew her fine hair and plastered the knit top across her tits, making it rub sensitively over her stiffening nipples. She glanced down at him through the hatch and saw him grinning lecherously up at her.

Then he began undoing the fastenings of her shorts. She felt the material go loose around her waist. She watched him hook his fingers into the elastic of her panties and begin sliding both garments over her hips and tight ass.

"Logan!" she gasped down at him.

"Wave to the kiddies, honey," he grinned, tugging the shorts and panties below her pussy, baring her golden beaver and rapidly swelling cunt-lips.

She gasped again, sucking in air. She faced forward. The wind took her breath away. She looked behind her and could see Pete sitting behind the wheel, with Robin standing beside him. They gave her a funny look. She waved, trying her hardest not to let on what was happening.

But when Logan's fingertips slid up and down the slick gap of her pussy, she nearly moaned. She turned forward again, gripping the edges of the hatch with her hands.

This was wild! This was just the crazy, loony kind of thing Carl would have done.

She looked down. She saw Logan sitting on the vee of the bunks between her spread legs. His face was right on a level with her suddenly steaming pussy.

She was astonished with herself. She must have been out of her mind to let him get her into a trapped position like this. And out of her mind again to let him be so familiar with her.

A sense of anger swept through her for a moment. Just because she'd weakened the other night and had let him fuck her, that didn't give him the right to assume he could have complete freedom with her body any old time he wanted to.

She should never have let him fuck her. She should have put a stop to it the other night. She should have stopped him just now in the cabin, too. She should have...

Oh, God! It's been so long, Carl! Three years, darling! I'm sorry--but I'm so hot! So horny and hot! And he's a good fucker, Carl. Oh, God, forgive me for that, darling.

But I need to be fucked! I need to so badly!

"Ahhhhhh, God, Logan..." she moaned, the small cry ripped from her lips by the wind.

She looked at the horizon. It went up and down with the pitching of the boat and around with the spinning of her senses. She shut her eyes against the wind and sun and fresh air and braced her legs wider apart, unable to keep herself from tipping her pelvis forward and up to push her pussy right against his face.

She felt his fingertips massaging her bloated cunt-lips. She felt the stickiness between her petals go slick and oily with the flood of honey now pouring from inside her steaming pussy.

She felt his gorgeous tongue against her puffy labes. It licked all around them. It laved her thighs. It rasped against her blonde pubes and teased fitfully at the straining, screaming nub of her clit that begged attention so shamelessly now.

His hands kneaded and worked at her inner thighs and helped to open her watering pussy. She felt the tip of his tongue circle the muscular, silky mouth of her cunt, and she caught her breath again and again.

She felt her tits swell inside the knit top, and it was all she could do to keep from grabbing the hard cones and squeezing them, and to hell with whether the children could see her do it or not.

Her knees turned to jelly. She wobbled up and down slightly through the hatch hole and then braced her elbows against the decking to keep from falling through.

She felt his warm, moist breath against her belly and abdomen as he licked and lapped at her cunt with long, flat sweeps of his tongue. The image in her mind was that of Midnight cleaning one of his front legs while he lay on the floor and lapped lazily at it.

She felt herself on the verge of coming. She gritted her teeth. She was going to yell. She knew she was. The kids would hear her. They would know what was happening, and she would shame herself right in front of them.

She made a movement to come back down through the hatch. Logan cupped his hands under her round ass-cheeks and held her there, not letting her.

Then he kneaded with his fingers and began doing something else that took her breath away with the madness and wildness of it.

She felt him separating her ass-cheeks. She felt the tips of his fingers running up and down her deep, shadowy crack. And all the while, he lapped at her watering, draining slit with his tongue and sucked her cunt-lips into his mouth and flicked them with the tip of his tongue, drinking down her juices.

Chris gasped heatedly. Her whole ass began to shake. She knew what he was going to do. She didn't want him to. Not even Carl had done that to her.

But she couldn't stop him. And the truth, she had to admit finally, was that she didn't want to stop him. She wanted to be driven wild! Yes, she wanted it!

His finger centered over her asshole. She felt the tiny mouth pucker and pulse and suck. He pressed inward. There was a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure, of itching and of tingling.

Her pelvis rocked and tipped. Her hips began making small circles, as if a part of her wanted to be rid of the irritating sensation. Yet there was another part of her that made her push her ass backward against the tingling fingertip and gasp again and again.

There couldn't have been more. Already, he'd done enough to her to make her come twice. But then she sucked in her breath again and felt her senses take another wild lunge upward to a higher plateau of pleasure and madness.

His tongue! It was going--under her crotch!

She felt the tip of it circle around her fluttering cunt- mouth one more time and then begin sliding under her torso, around the curve of her crotch, reaching... reaching...

"Ahhhhhh, God, Logan! Don't!" she cried thinly, gasping again, looking down into the hatch past her thrusting tits.

Her vision was blurred. The boat swayed and pitched, making her feel as if she were floating helplessly in the sea of sensation.

She saw him kneeling on the floor at the vee of the bunks, his head upturned, his mouth opened wide and pressed against her spread crotch. His hands were on her pouting ass-cheeks, palming them wide apart.

She felt the stretch of her ass-mouth as he pulled. She felt the tip of his tongue circle around and around with taunting slowness. The agony of anticipation left her breathless.

"No... no!" she gasped. "Don't do that, Logan. Don't! Nobody's ever done that! Ohhhh, it's nasty, Logan! You can't do a thing like that, I'll... EEEEEnnnnh!"

The squeal started out thin and high. She forced her throat around the column of sound and shut it down to a whine--just the way her tight, shivering asshole was forced down around his tongue tip when it finally penetrated her butt.

She nearly fainted. The boat yawed and swooped. She clung to the wooden frame of the hatch. Her knees gave way as her whole lower body shuddered wildly under the spasms of her violent orgasm.

She felt her pussy-tunnel crush down. She'd expected the emptiness of years of masturbating, the same sensation of silky, juicy tissues pulsing about a void.

But there was something to grip. It wasn't a cock. It wasn't big enough to be a cock. But it was something. And she squeezed tightly around it, feeling grateful for the meager length and girth of his thumb.

Juice ran from her cunt, dewing her petals to the point of making them drip. At the same time, her asshole pulsed and sucked and quivered with an intensity she couldn't believe. He wouldn't stop. Even after she'd been coming for an eternity of gripping spasms, he wouldn't stop.

His tongue plunged deeper and deeper up her asshole, darting back and forth at the same time, making her feel as if her butt were being prodded with a slithering snake.

If he hadn't been holding her up by her crotch, and if she hadn't been elbowing the deck as hard as she could, she would have slid right through and fallen into an orgasming heap.

The waves came again and again, pounding through her starved body. Far off, she could hear whimpering, squealing sounds, and she knew she was making them, and that the children were watching her through the windshield, guessing... knowing...

Slowly, agonizingly, she turned her head. It was an unbelievable sensation. Her eyes were open, although she couldn't see too well. She pretended to be perfectly normal, although waves of orgasm still pounded through her.

She looked back at them from the corner of her eye. She saw Pete. She couldn't see Robin. She saw Pete's mouth opening and closing. She saw the expression of blissful agony on his face that she knew must be on hers.

Their eyes locked for just a moment, and then his head tossed back, and she could see him let out a groan. She couldn't hear it. She was making too much noise inside herself to hear it.

She didn't know what was happening. She didn't care right then. All she was really conscious of was the darting, thrusting, fucking tongue churning up her asshole and driving her absolutely wild.

And then she did know. She watched Pete make small jerking motions with his head back and his eyes hooded and his tongue licking over his lips, and she did know.

And she had the audacity to feel shocked!

Robin had watched Logan pull her mother into the cabin with a curious mixture of jealousy and secretive superiority. She wondered what her mother would think if she knew the way her daughter had sucked that big, hosing cock into her mouth. Or what she would think if she knew about the proposition Logan had just made.

The sight of the bulge at his crotch had made her pussy start watering again. She could picture the big prick, all stiff and throbbing and ready.

Ready for her young pussy tonight...

By God, he was going to fuck her pussy with it tonight, too. Not her mouth, not her hand, not his own hand. Her hot, silky cunt! She was going to make his cock spurt into her pussy this time--not her dog's.

"Thanks for telling her," Pete said darkly.

Robin watched the cabin door close, and her twat gave another trembling throb. Would he dare fuck her in there? Why else would he have closed the door?

"You could have told her," Pete said again.

His sullen tone distracted her finally, and she turned her head to look at him, ready to be totally disgusted with him. He still sat in the deck chair. The shade line of the cockpit roof passed back and forth over him as the boat pitched and rolled, making him blink on and off with sun and shade, like a flashing sign.

"He told you to take the wheel, Pete," she said.

"To hell with it."

She blinked. She looked at him again. It was Pete sitting there. And yet it wasn't. He was suddenly different in a way she couldn't understand.

"What's the matter with you?"

"You could have told your mother about my dad. You didn't have to let her go on believing he was just a commercial fisherman. I wondered why she always thought I wasn't good enough to be around you. Why she looked at me as if I were no better than a piece of old bait, or something."

"You're crazy," Robin said. She tried to put force behind it, but her tone was strange, just the way his expression was strange.

"It was you all along, wasn't it? You didn't tell her on purpose."

"I didn't want to spoil it for her," Robin said sassily. "She was enjoying feeling superior. She was enjoying giving me a hard time about you, telling me all about Daddy's high standards and how we had to be careful and all the rest."

"Not as much as you were enjoying it," Pete responded. He squinted against the flash of sunlight at her. "I'm beginning to see it all now, Robin. You like bugging her. You've said so enough. But now it's clear that you were just using me to bug her with, weren't you?"

"What's gotten into you, Pete?"

"Maybe it's what's gotten into you, Robin."

She sucked in her breath, then put on a show of outrage and anger. "You're the only thing that's gotten into me, Pete Bast! You and your stupid cock! Finally! After I nearly raped you to get it!"

"Not quite all," he said. "Has he fucked your cunt yet?"

"What?

"Cut it out, Robin," Pete flared, feeling a charge of courage and anger. "I watched you!"

Robin laughed a little too loudly. "What kind of trick are you trying to play with me? You didn't watch me do anything, you jerk!"