Sperm began spurting from her lips, running down the shaft of Logan's slippery cock and coating his balls. It bubbled from her cunt-mouth and trickled down the insides of her thighs as Midnight's balls pumped and hosed.
Robin shuddered and shook all over, her tits swelling down from her chest, the nipples stretching so far from the ends it felt to her as if they wanted to spurt something creamy and warm, too.
She didn't know why she thought of Pete at the height of it all, but she did. Perhaps it was Logan's suggestion of how she would blow his mind by blowing his cock.
Or perhaps it was something telepathic going on, which she couldn't really know about, because she was staring down at the root of Logan's cock and his taut abdomen.
Consequently, she wasn't looking at the window. She didn't see Pete standing there, looking through it. She didn't hear him groan with a mixture of envy and passion or see him nearly burst into tears while he watched Logan's sperm dribble from her cock-stuffed lips or Midnight's jizz drip from her dog-fucked cunt.
Pete saw her, though. He'd watched nearly all of it, from the time he'd made his way through the bushes along the short-cut he liked to use and had seen Logan go into the little guest house.
He'd come to talk to her about last night – to apologize for the bungling job he'd done and to tell her about the book he'd been reading all morning that told all about fucking. He'd wanted to ask her if she'd give him another chance to do it right.
But now, he could see that she didn't need any help from him. She was getting all the instruction she needed from Logan Gorman.
Pete groaned. He felt as if a knife had been stabbed into him. He held his erect, throbbing prick in his hand and felt as if he were holding something as useful as a fifth wheel.
He didn't know what to do with it. Until he watched Robin curl up and roll onto her back and let Midnight lap and lick at her streaming pussy.
Then he gave a few more tugs on his cock and let his young, full balls spew his load all over the side of the little cottage.
CHAPTER FOUR
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."