Chapter 9

"That was fantastic, Peter, just fantastic. I don't know when I've been fucked quite so breathless," the exhausted blonde said sincerely. But her mind was filled with dark thoughts of revenge em the virile resort owner for the way he had treated her--like a filthy whore! It wasn't enough him to give her a savage ass fucking; he made her lick his cock clean right afterwards, then suck his huge cock off while he kneeled over her with his big hands knotted in her hair. He almost pulled it out by the roots! It wasn't until after all that that he fucked her cunt, that he let her cum too! The bastard! The stuck-up fucking bastard! Who the hell does he think he is, treating her like that... calling her those filthy names? What the hell does he have against her?

Peter Knight lay beside the voluptuous blonde with his eyes closed. He was sated, fulfilled, completely at peace. He smiled inwardly, knowing that he should feel some kind of remorse for his vicious treatment of the cunt-eating stewardess, but he didn't. He had settled the score, so to speak. Not only with her, but with Francine--thought his ex-wife's comeuppance for what she had subjected Davie to was still to be arranged.

His ego was bolstered, he was king of the mountain now. He never thought he would be able to get it up three times in a row! Why the hell had he denied himself for so long? Too bad the blonde bitch couldn't keep her hands off his tender daughter; if he hadn't seen that, he would feel different about her perhaps... she certainly was one helluva fuck, about the best he'd ever had, matching him stroke for stroke, turning him on to unbelievable heights of passion with her obscene words and her flaming, unbridled sexuality. She was a white witch, using some kind of voodoo magic on him to draw the fiery cum out of his balls. His only regret was that he had given her the satisfaction of capitulating to her brazen desirability. He would have gotten more points in his own mind if he had walked away from her a few hours ago without so much as a kiss. But then, look what he would have missed!

A few hours ago! Geezus christ--Davie! She was home alone--she'd better be! Dammit--he had allowed his own sexual craving to overshadow his new-found duties to his young daughter; he had been weak when he should have been strong! He had to get back to the house!

He roe unsteadily to his feet. His mind was alert, but his body responded torpidly. He blinked and looked around the room. The moon had risen on the horizon and the warm, blue shadows no longer illuminated the room. Still, they had never bothered to turn on a light, so his eyes had only slight difficulty adjusting to the dimness. He scuffed around the room, gathering his discarded clothing and began to dress. He also began to collect his thoughts.

What to do about Trish Byers... he didn't want to see her again and yet, he did. He had never known a woman as wildly abandoned, as insatiable, as fantastic in bed, despite the handicap he gave her. But she also represented a danger to his way of life, to the permanent reunion he was planning for him and Davie--he didn't want his darling little girl in the blonde's cunt-eating clutches ever again! One way to insure that was to keep the stewie stuffed full of his cock! But how would Davie feel about that? What was she supposed to do while he was off screwing around with Trish?... She was still provocatively naked when he came out of the bathroom. Goddamn, she was gorgeous, a paen to carnal lust, right there in the flesh! He took her hand and raised her up off the bed, drawing her naked body close to him. "Get some sleep, kid. I'll see you tomorrow--or rather, later today," he said, smiling down at her.