Christine's head spun. Her senses reeled. She tried to stop the whirling emotions inside her so that she could examine all that was happening to her and see clearly what the meaning of it was.
But there was too much going on for her to halt it. She might as well try to still a hurricane so that she could look around the yard and see if she'd forgotten to bring anything into the house out of the blow.
Flavor burst through her senses-a heady, sweet, slippery kind of flavor. She knew it was the taste of her daughter's running cunt-honey, and her emotions took another leap.
She felt the swollen knot at the neck of Midnight's hard, surprisingly big cock, and she had difficulty accepting that it was really fucked up inside her pussy.
She had heard all that Robin had told her about Logan despite her efforts not to listen, and that, too, had caused a reaction that added to the whole of what she was feeling.
And right now-right at this instant-she could hear Robin's cries of unmistakable passion. She could feel the clawlike fingers pressing urgently at the back of her head and forcing her open mouth more fully onto the spread, silky, squashed lips of her daughter's sweet pussy.
The cries had another kind of sound to her-something that harkened back through time to when Robin was a small girl. It was as if she were crying for comfort and love, just the way she used to when she would fall and skin her knee or when she would wake up with fright from a nightmare.
There was a pleading tone to the cries, a calling out for comfort again, as if she were in terrible need.
Perhaps that was why Christine didn't fight harder. Perhaps that was why her lips began compressing gently, as if she were kissing the red wound that was causing little Robin such agony.
Only now the wound was a gash, silky and slippery and hot, like no other wound she'd kissed before. Yet, the agony was just as intense, somehow, the comfort still needed.
And, of course, there was a sense in which Robin had been wounded in this spot between her trim thighs. If half of what she'd said were true, then Christine herself had contributed to some measure to the agony in her daughter right now.
Oh, Carl-Carl, I caused it to happen! she cried inwardly. I must give her my comfort again, Carl. Don't you understand?
Her lips compressed again. She felt the spongy, puffy give of the bloated cunt-lips between them. She savored another trickle of sweet honey from the red wound, swallowed it with a shuddering moan.
Her tongue came from between her lips and explored the incredibly silky texture of her daughter's twat tissues. She moaned again, half her mind aware of what she was doing.
But was what she was doing any worse than having a dog's cock deep in her cunt, fucking her? The dog was about to achieve his satisfaction in her. She was about to give it to him.
The dog was not her own flesh and blood. This whimpering, needing, agonizing girl was. Didn't she owe Robin at least as much as she was going to give a dog?
"Ohhhhhh, Mommy, Mommy!" Robin whimpered urgently. "I need to come so badly, Mommy! Make me come! Ohhhhh, suck me and kiss me and make me come!"
There! Weren't those nearly the same words she had uttered to herself just this afternoon? Were they any the less meaningful now because her daughter had uttered them instead of herself?
God, how she and Robin had been at each other for the past three years! Always on edge, always in combat. Wasn't it time to stop? Hadn't there been enough loneliness with Carl gone? Wasn't it time for mother and daughter to be together for a change in their need for each other?
The whirling suddenly stopped. She felt as if she were looking down from a great height through crystal-clear air, able to see at last the meaning, the things that could be.
She had moralized long enough. She had remained aloof and above her daughter beyond the point where it would be of value to continue any longer.
Indeed, she may have been there too long already. She may even have helped push Robin away from her by being there so long.
It was time to commit. Robin was no longer a little girl.
Robin was entering womanhood-had already entered it. Therefore, in a strange sense, they were no longer mother and daughter, but two women, united in a special way, but each needing to go separate ways now.
How separate, how separated, would be determined by this moment.
Christine felt that. She felt, too, with sudden clarity, that Robin had been telling her the truth. And that the truth had to be believed if she were not to become an object of contempt in Robin's eyes-an example to be differed from as much as possible.
The consequences of that course were frightening to imagine.
They made her shudder. They made her scoop her hands under her daughter's shaking, needing ass and lift the sweet, yearning pussy fully to her warm mouth.
Christine moaned deeply inside and committed herself. She gave herself over completely to the little conspiracy that would forever unite them in that special way about to be lost.
Her mouth opened wider. Her lips sucked. Her tongue thrust from her mouth into the slippery, silky maw of her daughter's hot cunt, and she gave her all.
She'd had a good lesson this afternoon. Robin was right about that much of it, anyway. Logan taught well.
She did all that she remembered having done to her. She turned her head slightly from side to side, letting her lips slip over her daughter's cunt-petals. Her tongue pumped in and out of the hot, wet well of silky, oiled meat.
She felt the clench and spasm of pussy muscles around her tongue, and the sensation was strangely thrilling, making her own muscles squeeze and suck at the prick buried in their midst.
Her upper lip detected the straining, pulsing nub of Robin's clit, and she dove for it, knowing the pleasure and comfort it would bring.
"Eeeeee, Mommy!" Robin cried. "Wonderful! Ohhhhh, so wonderful! Oh, Mommy, I love you! I can't help saying it! I've been such a little brat to you, and I'm sorry! I bugged you and bugged you, and-ohhhhh, you're tops, Mom! The best!"
Christine's heart swelled. She'd done the right thing. She knew it now; no matter how wrong it seemed, it was right!
Her fingers squeezed and kneaded the firm flesh of her daughter's ass. Her palms spread the round cheeks wide. Her tongue licked and lapped up and down the running gash, bathing the wound, making it all better.
At the same time, she began to move her own ass. She felt full. She felt warm and liquidy inside. It didn't matter now that it was Midnight's cock up her pussy.
There was a certain justice to it, even, because Midnight- good old Midnight-was part of the family in his own special way.
She heard him growl softly. She felt his haunches pumping up and down as he fucked and fucked at her ass, keeping his knotted, full prick buried deep in her cunt.
She felt the incredibly agile and humanlike paws grip her waist and pull her back against his thrusting belly. She felt the throb of his full prick inside her, and she moaned inwardly, wanting him to come, wanting him to ease his poor balls and shed the years of affection inside her warm pussy.
She felt the hot drip of saliva on her back and was not shocked by the tickling as it ran towards her waist. Nor was she outraged by the way his long tongue licked up her back to the nape of her neck.
He licked her hands, didn't he? Didn't he jump up on her and lick her face with excitement when he greeted her at the door after a day's absence?
"Ohhhhh, Mommy, Midnight's getting ready to come in your pussy! I can see him, Mommy! He's tossing his muzzle around and licking his lips and kissing you all over! Ohhhhh, God, I'm going to come, too, Mommy!"
Christine licked harder. She placed her open mouth and soft lips all over Robin's draining, flowing pussy-hole. She sucked at the bottom of her crotch.
Then the tip of her tongue swept over Robin's tight, puckered, quivering asshole.
"Yaaaaaah, yes! Ohhhhhh, Mother!"
Christine's pulse pounded wildly. She felt the blazing thrills shoot through her body as she hesitated for just one moment before committing herself again.
Her tongue tip pointed. She thrust it from her mouth. She felt the rubbery texture of Robin's sweet, virginal asshole, the way it pulsed and spasmed around her tongue.
She heard the long, high wail of blissful agony erupting from her daughter's throat, and she thrust harder, spearing the warm, wet organ into her quivering butt-hole.
Robin's body suddenly lifted and held. It began shuddering in Christine's hands. The muscles and tissues began quaking and sucking with wild sweeps inward.
"Yaaaaaaah, Mommy! I'm coming! God, am I ever coming! Ohhhhh, don't stop, don't stop making me come!"
I won't, darling-I won't!
She thrust deeper and deeper, blending with her daughter, becoming a part of her shaking body. So much that she began shuddering herself, rippling all over, squeezing and sucking and rocking back and forth.
It took her a moment to realize that she was coming herself.
Then she heard Midnight's throaty whimper and felt his big prick buck inside her pussy.
She felt the hot, forceful jets of his sperm as his pointed prick spewed and jetted. She felt the warm, furry cementing of his belly to her upturned ass and the way he shuddered and humped against her body and came with them.
There was a dreaminess to it all that she would never have imagined. She felt as if she were floating, as if she were flying through the air in the midst of her orgasm, and there was a liberated quality she hadn't felt for a long, long time.
It was the way Carl had made her feel sometimes, when he held her tightly in his arms and bore down against her and drove his prick to the hilt in her shaking cunt.
She even imagined she could hear his voice right now, telling her how beautiful it was, how exciting to watch, how kinky. How he was going to love being married into this family…
Christine gasped. The dream ended with a breathtaking suddenness. She lifted her head from between Robin's spread, quivering thighs and turned it. Her eyes took a moment to focus again. When they did, they saw him.
Not Carl.
No, not Carl. Carl was dead. The man walking towards them with the lustful grin on his face wasn't Carl. Carl would never be unbuckling his pants and pushing them down to free his straining big cock in front of his daughter.
Carl wouldn't do that.
But Logan would. And Logan was.
"Better and better," he rasped huskily, his eyes running over both their naked bodies. He held his prick in his fist. "Wild- kinky wild! It makes my balls ache!"
He came up to them. He grinned down at Christine. His hand jacked up and down on his hard, thrusting shaft. The head was pointed right towards her, and she could see the swelling and pulsing of the velvety knob.
She knew what he was going to do. She knew it the moment she saw his other hand coming towards the back of her head. Her eyes turned upwards from his hard prick to his face, and her mouth opened.
"Logan!" she cried.
His prick-head rippled past her lips. She felt the velvety smoothness of it against her tongue and the roof of her mouth.
She caught the scent of his prick and his balls. It was heady.
But there was something rank about it, too.
"I offered you girls a dinner," he said huskily. "It looks like we're going to eat here. Ahhhhh, eat this big piece of meat, baby, and I'll eat out your asshole again!"
Robin lifted up. She saw the heavy, full cock thrusting between her mother's lips. She saw the way her mother's eyes were rolled upwards as she looked at Logan's face. And she saw the way Logan was staring at her wet, bloated cunt while he fed his prick into her mother's mouth.
Christine saw it, too. There was no mistaking it this time, because she was looking for it. His cock was steely-hard. Not because he was fucking it into her mouth, but because he was looking at Robin's young pussy. Just the way he'd been watching her picture before.
Christine moaned. She tried to move her head backwards. She wanted to spit out his prick. She wanted to rise up from the bed and tower over him and do him physical harm.
The notion was absurd, of course. Women didn't get physical the way men did.
But she couldn't reconcile that cultural understanding with her raging desire to bash his face.
"After all that honey, you need some cream, baby," Logan rasped heatedly, pulling at the back of her head, forcing her mouth down over his steely, throbbing prick.
"Don't!" Robin cried. "Don't do that to my mother!"
Logan lifted his brows and raised his eyes from her spread, draining pussy to her face.
"Why not, sweetheart? Do you want to suck it again? Do you want another drink from my spurting prick?"
Robin looked at him. She licked her lips. Her heart pounded. "Yes!" she choked.
"That's terrific, baby. You'll get it. Just as soon as I give Chris a taste.
She hasn't wanted to suck my prick yet. I figure it's because she doesn't know how. She's got to learn, hasn't she? Just the way you learned."
Robin reached forward for his cock. Logan lifted his hand in a threatening way, and she sat back.
"She's no good at blow-jobs, Logan," Robin said. "She's not a natural, like me.
You don't know what I did to Pete's big cock today?"
"That stupid jerk? What did you do to his cock?"
"Sucked it off," she said, moving her tongue slowly around her lips, opening her mouth at the same time. "All the way down my throat, Logan. I got the idea from the way you tried to fuck my throat yesterday, and I did it. Every last inch. I want to do it to yours right now! Ohhhhh, let me do it, Logan!" Robin moaned. She leaned back. She made her eyes hooded. She put her hand to her pussy and began swirling it around in the wet meat, lifting her hips and circling them, masturbating openly.
Christine moaned in the back of her throat. The cock was filling her mouth. It was throbbing and bucking, and there was a slippery, pungent oil seeping from the big eye of it, fouling her mouth after the sweet honey of Robin's pussy.
She rolled her eyes to the side, watching her daughter. She felt shocked. Worse than that.
She felt betrayed.
Her giving had all been wasted. The commitment to Robin had been subverted, because the traitorous girl was begging to suck his prick again!
Logan's cock jerked again. "Ohhhhh, that's a hot pussy there, baby!" he moaned.
"God, does it need a good fucking!"
"All right-yes!" Robin cried. "Here, Logan. It's all open and wet for your big prick! Ohhhhhh, you know I wanted you to fuck it up my pussy yesterday! Do it!
Do it now! Shoot all that hot, sweet cream into my cunt!"
She opened her knees all the way and spread her cunt-lips with the tips of her fingers, stretching the pink mouth of her wet pussy open so that he could see it fully.
"God, what a cunt!" he gasped.
His prick jerked again. It seemed to stretch in Christine's mouth all the way to the back of her throat. She felt the head dance there, bucking and throbbing.
Then her eyes shot wide open as she felt the first hot, pungent, spewing jet of sperm splash against the back of her throat.
She whimpered inside. She nearly vomited. Robin had been telling the truth, all right-his cum tasted terrible!
"Yaaaaaagh!" he cried, tipping his head back, thrusting his hips forward, fucking his prick deep.
His balls lifted under his root and pumped. Sperm poured into Christine's mouth in a flooding torrent. It hosed down her throat and swam in her belly and nearly bounced back up again.
She closed off her throat, and then it flooded her mouth and spurted out between her lips, drooling down his shaft and stringing to the bed, just the way Robin had said it would.
Christine closed her eyes tightly shut. She didn't think she could bear any more. Her daughter had betrayed her. The man she was ready to marry had just raped his spewing prick into her mouth while ogling her daughter's pussy.
And then she heard Robin's loud swearing, felt the way her little fists pummeled at Logan's chest.
"You goddamn bastard! You came in Mommy's mouth! You rotten shit, I told you not to do that! I told you she didn't want it! Bite, Mother! BITE HIS COCK OFF!"
"Ahhhhhgh! You stupid cunt!" Logan bellowed.
Christine heard a smack. She heard Robin cry out with pain.
She tasted a sudden saltiness in her mouth, and then she felt the stinging smack against her own cheek as he slapped her head away from his bleeding prick.
He roared. He raged at both of them. And then he was gathering them together in his strong arms, bending them, forcing them into ungodly positions.
"I'll teach you cunts to fuck around with me! You, you old hag-you need more practice sucking cocks! Suck on that one! When you can suck off a dog's cock, then maybe I'll let you try mine again!"
Christine howled with pain and astonishment. She felt the warm fur of Midnight's belly against the side of her face. She heard him grunt as Logan pressed her head against his belly.
Midnight had been lying on the bed with his leg up in the air, cleaning off his prick again. Now he was half on his back, and his red, pointed prick was thrusting right towards Christine's startled face.
Logan pushed at her head again, and the pointed, scarlet tip of Midnight's cock bumped against her lips and went between them.
"Ahhhhhhgh, no!" Robin bawled. "Stop, you bastard! Not my ass! Goddamn you, not up my ass!"
Christine rolled her eyes. She could just see the way Logan had his hand pressed into the middle of Robin's back, holding her down just the way he was holding her head against Midnight's belly.
He also had his knee against Christine's ass, preventing her from moving. She had no idea he was so strong!
But the sight that blazed through her mind was the big, hard, thrust of his steely cock against Robin's helpless butt.
The shaft was shiny from the mixture of saliva and sperm it had been immersed in. There was a tint of pink to the juice from where the edge of her tooth had broken the skin.
He wore a maniacal expression.. He sweated furiously. He bore forward against Robin's ass, and Christine whimpered when she saw the solid length of his cock begin to sink into it.
"Yaaaaaagh!" Robin screamed throatily. "You're killing me! Your prick hurts!
Ahhhhh, Mommy-he's fucking it up my asshole!"
Midnight growled. His prick throbbed between Christine's lips. His paws bicycled in the air as he struggled to get out from under the weight of her pushed-down head.
Apparently, Midnight was less animal than Logan. His prick was a good two inches into her mouth. He should have liked it.
He should have let the thick, scarlet shaft jut from its sheath and fuck all the way into her warm mouth, the way he'd let it fuck into her hot pussy.
But maybe he knew there was a limit. Or maybe he just didn't like the way his mistress was screaming and bawling as Logan's big, slippery prick fucked up her virginal asshole.
It was going in. There was no question of it. Robin's cheeks were shuddering wildly. The shaft showed only an inch or so, which meant there was already half a foot of cock throbbing up her tight young ass.
Logan bore down. His eyes were wild. This was the kinkiest he'd had it in a long time. Maybe that was what made him begin to lose control of the three struggling bodies he was holding down.
Midnight got free first. His cock jerked back from Christine's lips and was swallowed by the furry sheath. He twisted and writhed on his back a little longer, and then he managed to get to his feet.
He cocked his ears and looked at what Logan was doing to Robin. He went over to them, sticking his nose into Robin's screaming face.
"Ahhhhh, stop! You're killing my ass, you goddamn bastard!" she bawled.
"Midnight-help!"
He cocked his head again. He looked from Robin to Logan, trying to puzzle it out. Logan was supposed to be a nice guy, a friend. But there was no doubt he was hurting Robin right now.
They weren't playing. This wasn't the time to bounce around and bark and join in.
Midnight lowered his head. His tail went still and straight.
His lips curled back from his fangs, and his flews rattled as he let out a tentative growl.
"Get him! Midnight, get him!" Robin cried harshly.
Midnight growled again, more menacingly this time.
"Easy, boy," Logan said, his voice astonishingly soothing.
Then he gasped softly and moaned. "Ohhhhh, God, what a tight, sweet asshole!
Baby, if you keep clenching your butt-cheeks together like that, I'm gonna fill your butt with sperm! Ahhhh, Christ-there! It's all the way in! Shit, I can feel your cheeks flatten under my belly! Suck it deeper, you hot little cunt!"
"Ahhhhhgh! Ohhhhh!" Robin cried, twisting and thrashing under the murderous onslaught of his big prick.
She gasped again and again. She wished he weren't raping her. It was a wild sensation to have a hard prick up your ass.
It might even feel good if you were hot enough to want to fuck.
But it didn't feel any good when you were being raped. It hurt like hell!
She couldn't keep her ass still. The itching pain was unbearable. His prick wasn't wet enough. It burned. The length and thickness of it made her feel uncomfortably stuffed.
But there was no way he could have made her like it. Not this time. Not ever again. Not his cock.
She'd reached a point. She knew it now. She'd had an inkling of it this afternoon. She'd chastised her mother about it just a little while ago.
Now, she felt it.
There was more to fucking than just a hard cock. There was the man behind it, too.
And Logan Gorman wasn't the right man.
"Midnight-get him!" she cried again.
Midnight tried another growl. This was the screwiest game he'd ever played. He simply didn't know what to make of it. He was ready to go off and lie down and think it over a little while.
But then Robin's asshole spasmed around Logan's imbedded cock. Logan groaned in the back of his throat, making an animal sound. His prick swelled in the depths of her young ass.
It bucked and shuddered. He bore down against her butt and let his cock explode violently.
"Aaarrrgh!" he growled.
His prick spewed sperm into Robin's virginal ass. Everything went slippery. His prick slid back and forth, fucking her slick, rubbery asshole with the jerking of his hips.
He growled again. Midnight growled back, the hackles rising on the back of his neck. That wasn't a playful sound. He barked deafeningly and came towards Logan, his fangs glinting and bared.
"Ohhhhh!" Robin cried shudderingly, feeling the wetness flood into her ass like a hot enema. "Mommy! Mommy, I'm… I can't help… ohhhhhh, damn, damn!"
"Oh, Robin, it's all right, darling! It doesn't mean anything! Not any more, Robin! Not since you've told me the truth and made me see him-really see him!
Come, Robin! I know what it's like, darling! I know you can't help it!"
"Ahhhhhhgh!" she cried, her young body shuddering and pulsing, her violated asshole squeezing spastically around the stuffing, spurting, raping prick.
That was all it took for Midnight. That final throaty yell from his mistress.
He lunged forward, growling and barking and snapping his jaws.
He caught Logan's arm between his teeth. He bit down. Logan bellowed at the top of his lungs. His fist balled and swung through the air. He clubbed the side of Midnight's head with it, making the dog yelp with pain and let go and back away.
But now Christine was free. She scrambled away and spun around. She watched her daughter writhe with orgasm and pain as her young ass tried to shit out the big prick inside it.
She was aware of the thumping of feet running down the hall only after the door banged open. Then she looked up and saw two men standing there, staring with shock. One of them was Pete.
"My God, Dad! He's raping her ass!" Pete cried.
"Hey!" Thorne shouted, charging into the room.
Christine stared. She felt ready to bawl with relief. She didn't know why they were there. She didn't care. She didn't even care that she was stark naked and had sperm glistening on her chin on her first meeting with Pete's father.
"What the fuck!" Logan blurted, jerking his head around.
Thorne Bast looked something like his son. Older, of course.
And a little bigger and heavier. Tanned. Quite fit, with an athletic agility to his menacing stride across the room.
Christine was appalled that she would notice his looks at such a moment. But she did. And she liked them.
He was quite handsome. He should be, being Pete's father, since Pete was a good-looking boy. His hair was darker than Pete's, where it wasn't partially sun-bleached from the time he spent combing the shore for his driftwood.
She could see something else, too. She could see that Robin had been telling the truth about him. He wasn't a peasant-type fisherman. Not at all. He was a man outraged by the violence he saw and heard.
Christine wasn't even sure he saw her. His gaze was fixed with purposeful intensity on Logan. He seemed totally unafraid.
Logan saw him coming. He tried to pull his cock from Robin's tightly gripping asshole. He couldn't get free. He lifted her half from the bed in his effort to, making her dangle from his prick.
He lifted his bloody arm to ward off the blow Throne launched. It was like two bulls clashing. The fist slid down Logan's arm and thudded into the side of his head.
Logan bellowed and hooked his right fist into Thorne's head, still jerking his hips backwards in an effort to free his cock from her clenched shitter. Robin squalled with pain.
Pete came in from the other side. He got an elbow in his gut that doubled him over and made him wheeze breathlessly.
Midnight got back into the fray. He didn't know who the strange man was, but he knew Pete. And he sure wasn't feeling very friendly toward Logan any more-not after that wallop on the head.
With a quiet, businesslike snarl, he clamped his jaws down around Logan's other arm and clung to it. Logan yowled again and gave a mighty heave, ripping his cock from Robin's asshole.
He spun to meet Thorne again, pulling Midnight around with him, seeming oblivious to the pain the fangs must have been giving his arm.
"You've had it this time, Grunwald," Throne said levelly, circling towards the dog-encumbered arm.
"Not yet, Bast," Logan growled. "You didn't get me last time, and you won't this time, either."
"I've been looking for you for a long time, you sick creep."
"Grunwald?" Christine uttered, staring from one to the other of them. "No, it's Gorman, Mr. Bast. Logan Gorman."
"Larry Grunwald, Mrs. Eglund. A crook and a creep from way back. I only wish I'd known earlier, and I would have spared you from his kind of sickness with women."
Logan curled his lip back and laughed with an evil, braying sound. "Sally sends you her love, Bast," he cackled. "Last time I saw her, she was on her way to Barbados with two very horny men and a Great Dane. They damn near didn't let her on the boat. Can you picture it, Bast? The four of them?" He laughed wildly again.
"Mom?" Pete wheezed with agony. "Dad, is he talking about Mom?"
"You rotten…" Throne grated.
He charged. He bowled into Logan full force, his big fist smacking into Logan's hard stomach with enough force to stun him this time.
But Logan had been ready for it. Cunningly, with the instinct of an animal, he'd counted on the rush and had taken the body blow for the chance to hook his powerful fist into the side of Thorne's head.
Thorne's knees buckled. He went down on them, looking dazed.
Logan bellowed with victory. He reached for his arm and pried Midnight's jaws from it. Blood ran down to his wrist. He flung the dog against Thorne and started from the room, holding his arm against his stomach, still buck naked.
He turned at the doorway and looked at Christine with blazing eyes and a curl to his lip.
"I'll be back, baby," he said. "You'll learn to like it, too. You'll see."
Then he turned and padded weavingly down the hall.
"Dad!" Pete groaned, heaving himself to his feet and getting as far as the door before turning a pale shade of green.
"Let him go, Pete," Thorne said. "He's not going to get very far. Not this time. I talked to Dave Jordan on the phone before we came over. He checked with Miami. The warrant on that land fraud six years ago hasn't expired yet. Dave'll have a squad car at his place to meet him. If he gets that far without his pants on."
Thorne made a face and slumped onto his butt on the floor, leaning against the bed. He puffed his cheeks and let his breath out, fingering the side of his neck gingerly.
"Man, that guy's strong." He looked partway around and winced at the movement.
"You okay, Mrs. Eglund?"
"How about you, Mr. Bast?"
They looked at each other, eyes exploring. They both grinned at the same time, then laughed softly.
"Everything considered," Christine said, "this Mr. and Mrs. stuff is a little silly, isn't it?"
"Well, I heard you were a very formal lady," he grinned.
"I don't feel formal at the moment. I feel very naked."
"Yeah," he laughed, wincing again. "You look a little naked, too. Very beautifully so, I might add. I only wish we'd meet sooner so that I could have saved you from Grunwald. Or Gorman, as he calls himself now."
"How did… well, I can't help wondering how you came to show up here."
"Pete," he grinned. "He told me about this guy you were going with some time ago, but of course the name Gorman didn't mean anything to me then. When he mentioned the shrimp-farm idea and whether I would look into it for you-on the sly, of course- the whole scheme rang a bell."
"A bell?"
"It was one of Grunwald's favorites. He tried it with a client of mine five years ago. I nearly caught up with him then, too, but he slipped away. When Pete mentioned the cove where this farm was supposed to be, I checked with a friend of mine. The place is a protected wetland area. There's no way he could put a shrimp farm or any other kind on it. That's when I had Pete describe him to me, and I knew."
Christine came to the edge of the bed. She slid off it and sat on the floor beside him. It made no sense at all to pretend modesty now-even if she'd felt like it.
He looked at the thrust of her firm tits openly.
His eyes traveled down her body to her pussy and along the lines of her thighs.
He spent as much time looking at her toes as he did her naked twat, and she realized shortly that his appraisal was that of an artist instead of a lecher.
"I knew you would have to be this lovely," he said honestly.
"Robin is. You would have to be."
She looked at his face, her eyes going over it. "I was thinking a similar thought about Pete and you," she said.
As if on unspoken cue, they both looked towards their children. Pete had his arm around Robin. He looked uncomfortable in his role of male protector. He looked as if he could get used to it quickly enough.
"Are you all right, honey?" Christine asked Robin. "You're not-torn or anything?"
"I'm fine, Mom," she said. "My ass itches a little. But I think Pete can fix that all right."
"Robin!" Pete blushed.
"Everything's out in the open now, Pete. Isn't it, Mom?"
Christine laughed softly. "You and I certainly are," she said.
She smiled at Thorne. She got to her feet and went over to Robin and Pete. She could feel the way Thorne's eyes followed the sway of her hips and the movement of her fine, firm ass-cheeks.
She felt no embarrassment at all at the way Pete stared at her naked body and his mouth fell open. He swallowed and looked up at her, trying not to look at her pussy and tits.
Christine bent down and slid her arms around his neck and hugged his head to her firm tits. She kissed him. She looked into his eyes.
"I'm very sorry for the way I've been to you, Pete. I do hope you'll forgive me."
He swallowed again, his lips brushing over one of her nipples. He looked at Robin and then back at her. "It was just a misunderstanding, Mrs. Eglund," he said.
"Chris," she said softly. "If I'm going to be mothering you from now on, we can't have all that formality. Right, Robin?"
"Right, Mom," Robin smiled. She gave a little cry and hugged her mother tightly, their tits pressing together.
"Pete looks as if he wants to check you over to see that you're not damaged, honey," she said boldly, giving Pete a lewd wink that made his prick jerk wildly in his pants.
"With everybody watching, Mom?" Robin laughed.
"Not if I can help it, darling," she said.
She straightened up. She fixed her gaze on Thorne. She made sure he was looking her up and down. Then she walked towards him, watching the expression in his eyes. She smiled.
"I think the children want to be alone, Throne," she said.
"I think you're right."
"Would you like to come with me?"
There was an open smile in his eyes. "I think I'd like that very much, Chris."
"You wouldn't think badly of me?"
"I couldn't. I know you too well."
"So soon?" she asked, arching her brows.
"From Pete," he said. "He talks about you all the time. He thinks you're great."
"You're pulling my leg, Throne. I treated him very badly."
"Maybe he saw through it. He's a bright kid."
"I wish we'd met earlier."
Throne shrugged. "Maybe neither one of us would have been ready. Maybe Grunwald-or Gorman-was a necessary evil. I didn't think much of women in general for a long time."
"I know what you mean," she said. "Throne, I-God, I feel like a schoolgirl again!" she flushed.
"I know just the feeling."
He took her hand and got to his feet. He looked at the kids.
He smiled at her. "Shall we be more conventional and wait?"
Chris looked into his eyes. She shook her head slowly, her lower lip trembling with the prickly emotions she felt inside.
"I've waited too long to wait any longer," she said shakily.
"Oh, God-I don't know what it is, Thorne, but I don't think we'll have to work very hard at any of it."
"Let's find out."
"Yes!"
She felt her pussy going loose and fluid. She walked close beside him towards her bedroom. When she led him inside, she couldn't look at him. She felt shaky all over.
She saw the picture of Carl where it had been for three years beside her bed.
She felt Throne watching her look at it. He said nothing. He stood silently, patiently.
After a long moment, she crossed the room to the nightstand.
She took the picture in her hands. She pressed her lips against the cool glass with a nearly inaudible sound. Then she opened the drawer and slipped the picture inside, face down. She turned and looked at Throne. There was a glistening in her eyes.
He came to her and took her gently in his arms. She let him.
She huddled against his chest-his broad, strong chest. It was comfortable in his arms. She felt his lips press gently at the side of her cheek.
"We can wait," he whispered.
She lifted her face to his. "I'm all right, Throne. It just takes a…"
"I remember," he said.
She sobbed once, an explosive sound, a volcanic hiccup, and then she slipped her arms about him and pressed her slim, willowy body tightly to his.
"Now, Thorne," she whispered.
She didn't have to tell him again. He was terribly gentle.
He laid her back on her bed. He kissed her softly. His touch was light and delicate, the touch of a craftsman on his masterpiece.
She melted inside. She grew warm and fluid. She felt her legs part, her pussy lift. And then he was sliding into her body, covering her with just the right degree of firmness.
"Oh, God!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him to her.
"It's right! At last it's right!"
"Yes-yes!" he whispered heatedly.
"Fuck me, Thorne! Ohhhhh, fuck me and make me live again!"
His prick slid through her oiled pussy tissues. Thrill after thrill lifted inside her until the pitch was nearly unbearable.
She felt his cock throb and heard him gasp and knew it was the same for him.
She let go a small, high sound and felt her yearning cunt vibrate with life, shudder with passion, flow with the sweet juice of things good and clean.
And she felt the rush of his warm, throbbing jism into her body as he came in her, opening to her, giving himself to a woman again.
She was not alone any more.