"What makes you think we'd do a thing like that?" Shelley asked.
"For one thing," Rhoda told her, "ordinarily you wait until you open the cottage to start undressing. And then there's the matter of Ross' shorts tucked into your crotch. I can smell fresh man-cum a block away!"
"And on that flimsy evidence…" Ross started to put up a weak defense.
"Besides which," Rhoda continued, "I watched you from our front window – with binoculars!"
"Christ!" Ross said. "At a hundred and fifty feet you must not have missed very much!"
"The hell I didn't!" Rhoda replied. "I missed the load you pumped into Shel. I hope you recover fast. We've been up here since 11AM and I've been itching for a good lay these last five hours. Jack made me wait… said he was saving himself for Shel."
"That's a damn lie!" said the big man who had come up behind Rhoda quietly. His hand brushed a lock of straw-colored hair out of his eyes as he stepped into the cottage and join the others. "She raped me before we were here fifteen minutes!"
"Blabbermouth!" Rhoda said accusingly. "I had 'em believing me, too. They were beginning to look guilty as hell."
"Not me!" Ross protested. "I gave up feeling guilty over any and all kinds of sex. I think it was for Lent… several years ago."
Shelley noticed that Jack's Bermuda shorts were bulging with the beginnings of a respectable erection, and she was still feeling the itch for fun.
"Our place or yours?" she asked, doing a gentle burlesque grind as she stared into Jack's eyes.
"Our place is all shipshape. Everything's ready for a party," Jack said, grinning.
"Yeah, after five hours I can imagine," Ross replied. "You must have a good foreman to leave a construction job that early in the day. I think we'd better organize things here. We haven't been up for weeks. Stick around and tend bar, Jack. I'll unload the wagon and the gals can chat while they put stuff away."
Jack opened up the bar that ran across one wall of the big living room and Ross went for the first cartons from the station wagon.
"Go ahead and shower, Shel," Rhoda said. "I know where you keep everything." Shelley smiled her thanks and went to clean up, holding the wadded shorts against her cunt as she hurried away.
Ross unloaded in three fast trips, took time for a quickie shower, and joined the others at the bar. Jack was telling the girls about something he had seen the previous summer.
"… must have been every bit as big as a wolf, but he didn't quite look like a wolf, either."
"Hey! Start over, Jack. Sounds as if I missed something!" Ross grabbed the Scotch and water Jack handed him and took a seat in a low chair near the bar.
"Oh, I heard something in Fall Creek this morning when we came through, and it reminded me of what I saw when I was sanding our beach last summer."
Jack Cartwright was one of four men who jointly owned the ten acres that completely surrounded Harp Lake. Ross had bought all the property four years earlier, but found it too much to handle by himself as a vacation spot. He had mentioned it to Jack during a weekend swapping session, and by the following Monday, papers had been drawn up and money changed hands, with two other men from the swapping group taking the remaining half of the load.
As a building contractor and general contractor, Jack volunteered to furnish the required equipment and labor at cost, so four cottages could be erected and the beach renovated from its crude wilderness. The work was done between contracted jobs, and the four families had inaugurated their private resort at the and of the previous summer.
"It was when I was dozing the last load of sand next to the dock. I happened to look up on the cliff back of the cottages. And there was this dog or wolf or whatever. He was pure white, and he looked fairly clean, so I thought he must belong to someone. A dog runs wild in the woods, he's gonna be gray and muddy and streaked and full of burrs and tangles. But this one looked pretty well groomed."
"Anyhow, when I lifted the blade and ran the dozer up the ramp onto the truck bed, I guess the racket spooked him. When I looked again, he was gone."
"And you heard about him in Fall Creek today?" Ross asked.
"Yeah. Rhoda wanted to browse in that damn Trading Post, so I went into the bar next door and had a beer. Heard these two old-time residents talking. Seems that a Mrs. Woodstock… another long-time resident… had been attacked by an animal this spring. She was in her late sixties, lived alone in that little bungalow with the picket fence where we turn off the county road onto our private entrance. She was gardening late… almost dark… and this animal jumps her picket fence, corners her next to her chimney, and starts tearing her clothes off her."
"She dropped her digger, so she was defenseless. The damn thing ripped her clothes off just enough to get at her pussy. He rears up and knocks her over, then puts the meat to her. She was screaming until then, but she shut up when she had to look up into the animal's face. He was slavering and drooling and whining all the time he was screwing her."
"She was torn up pretty bad. And she had to tell the doctor about it."
"And this animal's description matched the one you saw on the cliff above us here?" Ross pursued, frowning slightly.
"It sure did. Made me wonder if maybe we shouldn't install a few more floodlights out there. We have quite a few shadowy areas on really dark nights."
A strange expression came over Rhoda's face, and her hand stole into her crotch to cover her prominent pussy mound, but not before Ross noticed that her bikini was darkened with the moisture of her excitement. She wet her lips sensuously.
"Let's not waste time with small talk," she said hoarsely. "The water must be great out there, to say nothing of the feel of that warm sand. Come on! Let's party on the beach!" She slid off her bar stool and held out a hand to Ross. He grabbed it and let her pull him to his feet.
He was wearing only a light terry robe that reached his knees as he stood. Sitting, the hem barely covered his balls, and Rhoda had been stimulated by the brown curls that peeped from under the fabric.
They charged out of the cottage onto the beach, veering to their left to the dock and boathouse. Rhoda slowed as they neared the water's edge, letting Ross know she was much less interested in the water than in the warm sand.
He stopped and pulled her against him, feeling the warm satin of her belly against him. She pulled the robe off his shoulders and he broke their embrace to get rid of the hampering garment.
Rhoda removed her briefs and halter and they stared at each other for a second.
Ross licked his lips as he studied the exciting female beauty before him. Her nipples were dark rose islands in the coppery sea of her tanned skin; her tits were heaving with the intensity of her desire and there were burning lights in the depths of her brown eyes.
His gaze dropped past her smooth, rounded belly to the glossy tendrils of black hair at her crotch. The dark delta was split asunder with the pinkness of those thickly swollen, outward-flaring lips he remembered with lustful hunger.
With a groan, he seized her and pulled her down onto the fine, white sand. Their bodies pressed together and their mouths met in greedy, wet seekings. The swelling nipples of her tits burned hotly into his chest, and the rock-hard club of his cock poked her brutally in the lower belly.
"Fuck me, Ross!" she begged when their mouths separated. Her ass was rolling desperately in the sand and she was humping herself up at him, trying to capture the head of his cock in those avidly flaring lips nestled in her crotch.
"Soon," he promised. "But I have to smell and taste you, first!" He kissed her belly as he maneuvered himself downward, then he was sniffing at the steamy slickness of her gaping slit. The faint scent she wore did not hide the basic woman-smell of her, and its primeval musk excited him madly.
He licked into the soupy trough of cunt flesh, tasted her juice, and let his tongue slither over the entire surface of her box. She whimpered her excitement; Ross tongued the entrance of her tunnel, fucking her with his tongue, then nibbling at her clit.