She began drawing her head back. She felt his shaft ripple through her throat. She felt the soft head at the base of her tongue. Her compressed lips stripped his prick and made the last drop smear over her tongue as the red, wet rod popped free and thrust into the air.
She blinked. She smacked her lips. His cum tasted good! It wasn't pungent and bitter like Logan's. It tasted good!
"Ohhhhhh, Pete…" she moaned, wrapping her arms around his hips and hugging her face to his belly, feeling the wet, throbbing length of his shaft buck against her cheek.
"Honey – honey!" he cried, hugging her back. "That was super! You've made everything even again, Robin – more than even!"
She looked up at him. She felt funny inside, and it wasn't from his flood of sperm. She felt different toward him.
Much different.
CHAPTER FIVE
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.