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Undertow	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 11341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction set in Dreamworks' Penguins of Madagascar franchise. I do not own its characters, basic premise or settings.

Chapter List
- 1-1/?
- 2-2/?
- 3-3/?
- 4-4/?
- 5-5/?
- 6-6/?
- 7-7/?
- 8-8/?
- 9-9/?
- 10-10/?
- 11-11/?
- 12-12/?
- 13-13/?
- 14-14/?
- 15-15/?
- 16-16/?
- 17-17/?
- 18-18/?
- 19-19/?
- 20-20/?
- 21-21/?
- 22-22/?
- 23-23/?
- 24-24/?
- 25-25/?
- 26-26/?
- 27-27/?
- 28-28/?
- 29-29/?
- 30-30/?
- 31-31/?
- 32-32/?
- 33-33/?
- 34-34/?
- 35-35/?
- 36-36/?
- 37-37/?
- 38-38/?
- 39-39/?
- 40-40/?
- 41-41/?
- 42-42/?
- 43-43/?
- 44-44/?
- 45-45/?
- 46-46/?
- 47-47/?
- 48-48/?
- 49-49/?
- 50-50/?
- 51-51/?
- 52-52/?
- 53-53/?
- 54-54/?
- 55-55/?
- 56-56/?
- 57-57/?
- 58-58/?
- 59-59/?
- 60-60/?
- 61-61/?
- 62-62/?
- 63-63/?
- 64-64/?
- 65-65/?
- 66-66/?
- 67-67/?
- 68-68/?
- 69-69/?
- 70-70/?
- 71-71/?
- 72-72/?
- 73-73/?
- 74-74/?
- 75-75/?
- 76-76/?
- 77-77/?
- 78-78/?
- 79-79/?
- 80-80/?
- 81-81/?
- 82-82/?
- 83-83/?
- 84-84/?
- 85-85/?
- 86-86/?
- 87-87/?
- 88-88/?
- 89-89/?
- 90-90/?
- 91-91/?
- 92-92/?
- 93-93/?
- 94-94/?
- 95-95/?
- 96-96/?
- 97-97/?
- 98-97/?
- 99-99/?
- 100-100/?
- 101-101/?
- 102-102/?
- 103-103/?
- 104-104/?
- 105-105/?
- 106-106/?
- 107-107/?
- 108-108/?
- 109-109/?
- 110-110/112
- 111-111/112
- 112-112/112
- 97
- 98
- 99
Skipper whined like the tiniest Airedale puppy she could imagine, and she could imagine quite a lot.
"Now now, you said you wanted this, let me be boss, because control is imperfect if you can't relinquish it as somebody once told me." It had been her mother. Marlene flashed on her parents doing something similar and brain bleached the image away.
"Hmmmrrrrrughughuhnnnnn."
"Yeah, see, I'll take that as a yes." She took a breath of sex-scented air, considering. She'd never used a cock ring on anyone; besides, she didn't have one. Smutty stories always got her going, so would that work for him? She reached underneath him to prod his - his - velvet sheathed steel that proclaimed him male.
Marlene choked off a giggle. Yes! On this night, in the witching hour, she could be Scheherazade. She circled the base of his cock as much as she could reach around. He groaned as he bucked and covered his head.
"Listen, my children, and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Skipper here
Hardly a bird is now alive who remembers that famous day and year ..."
Poetry wasn't really her thing and she trailed off as she outlined her story to herself, humming little snatches of this and that as Skipper squirmed under her power. He sighed and wiggled, moaned and squeaked at her actions. His strength of mind was considerable, yet she thought she could challenge him. Uh oh, she was getting a little damp in her southern extremities at the thought of winning.
This might end up differently than she planned.
Bring it, she thought wickedly.
She introduced her tale in story voice mode with ups and downs and inflections and intonations that Momma Duck's young ones had enjoyed the brief times she babysat them. The story she was telling was not for their delicate earholes, though.
It was a story that Scheherazade would be proud of in the unexpurgated tales of Richard Burton. Marlene had overheard 1001 Nights discussed by two visitors who tossed popcorn at her and speculated on zoo animals' love lives. The story was tailored for Skipper and Kitka and herself as a voyeur, at least in her imagination. She paused and tickled his entrance around her inserted digit after loosing his cock that was now at full staff. He clenched and then relaxed in random patterns.
"Listening?"
"Yyuhhhhhhhh."
She shifted one of her thighs north and the other south to his explosive sigh.
"This is just for you. Journey with me now to the not so distant past and picture what I'm telling you. That's right, drift to what might have been between you and Kitka" - she made a last-minute substitution - "and Private." She had the satisfaction of feeling him jerk and turn harder yet. She smiled wickedly. "I'm going to tell you a long story."
He twisted to look back at her. "Like Ma did?"
"What? Gosh, I hope not! Now hush and listen. I'll make you like delays even though you are an Aries."
He subsided with a rumble and made small movements with the flipper nearest her. It was the combat signal she had learned first: move out.
Marlene cleared her pipes with a prolonged sniffle and hawking and did as ordered.
The falcon held Skipper easily, her wingtips rusty as autumn leaves on his body. She slid her primaries over his ripped shoulders. He touched her face and then kissed her.
Kitka sighed and opened wide to greet the kiss. Private figured that she meant for him to see their coupling, or she would not have invited him to her nest. If she meant it as a lesson for him, then he could understand it; if she meant it as a lesson for herself, then he could not.
Skipper lay heavily upon Kitka, pressing her deep into fluffy pillows.
"Where are Kitka and I and the private? Her nest didn't have pillows. I like a hard pillow and you gave us deep pillows? Kinda flowery talk, Marlene. Is this story going to be in character?"
She stopped all movement. He whined. "Hush, I said."
He explored her mouth as he would explore adopting a new combat technique. Slowly and carefully, he nuzzled his head feathers white as Ivory Snow detergent against her russet glory. He plunged leisurely inside, deeper and deeper, hot and overwhelming.
She uttered small sounds around his tongue and her talons caressed Skipper's flanks in turn. He had a beautiful coat, thought Private, and his flippers yearned to bury themselves alongside hers in feathers pristine as if gracing the Endless Iceberg's slopes of snow.
Skipper's beak moved to her earhole, where he dug his tongue through the feathers. Kitka moaned at the intrusion as Skipper's tongue lapped beneath the short growth there.
He breathed on her, making her shiver and then cry out before lifting herself against him. She moved a wing against his chest and then down his body. She must have squeezed something important because he gasped.
Private shifted, not sure if he moved in arousal or protest. Skipper's eyes darted to him once before returning to his lady love.
"So Private is, like, three feet away from us on this humongous bed, snooping? I don't know about this, Marlene - "
"Psssht, it's hot. Listen."
The penguin's flipper slipped down to stroke her throat and collarbone before moving to caress her banded chest. Private protested to himself in the midst of admiring his leader's technique. Why didn't Kitka push away Skipper's bold advances? Why didn't she think of herself as violated? Commando tactics ungentle as a Caterpillar bulldozer ought to have turned her off, but she welcomed them instead, her feathers flaring in the way that falcons did in mid-air matings. Private couldn't see much due to her lying flat on her back, yet he squirmed in heightened sensations anyway.
Skipper sealed his beak over her keelbone. Kitka squawked as she arched into his mouth. He preened her chest and she spread her thighs wide. It was like turning a key to unlock treasures; Private filed the move in his mental folder for future use.
"Okay, that's my signature move and you're giving it away! Shame on you!"
"Again, it's a story and there's just you and me to hear it. Lighten up."
Private crammed his flippers into his beak and bit down hard. Skipper took his own sweet time as he alternated preening with biting to make her moan. Kitka lay with her wings spread to the azure sky, all her daring flight skills come to naught as she seemed to Private a victim to Skipper's greed for her body. Was it greed? Private took a second look and saw a situation neither rushed nor forced, but tenderly nursed along. He thought now that it was the intensity of the pursuit that bothered him and when Skipper withdrew to burn a lusty gaze up and down her body, Kitka's pure and wild nature seemed sullied. Private rolled onto his back and the bedsprings jangled.
"Uh huh, so we're on a huge springy bed on top of a six or seven-story building, maybe the Upper West Side - couldn't you have made it a waterbed? They really help a guy keep up the rhythm, you know."
"So I've heard."
The tight smile that Private saw on his leader's face disturbed his tender conscience.
"Marlene, it's embarrassing me that Private is watching - "
"It's only a story, now hush."
Skipper glanced at him again, as if sensing Private's thought, and his eyes narrowed. Kitka cradled her lover's cheek, returning the attention to herself by tracing white feathers near his jawline.
"Please." She lifted her hips against him.
Private swallowed hard when his half-formed illusion of his leader like a greedy, grasping seagull shattered. In the clear light of noon, Skipper's eyes gleamed with love and his smile was shy.
Kitka slid her wings over Skipper's back with its hard muscle and ridged spine until she reached his buttocks. She pulled him against her, and his lids fluttered shut as he gasped.
"You've got me gasping a lot. I'm in better shape than that."
"Try to think of this time as the best lay you've ever had. You'd gasp, believe me."
"My Kitka," he whispered.
"Why should you stop?" She cocked her hips and Skipper froze; Private guessed he trembled at her hatchway before dropping through it.
He thought himself forgotten now as their eyes locked and Skipper pushed forward slowly.
Kitka gasped as her chin tilted straight up and her eyes closed, her body quivering like mice did before she shredded them. Private knew his commander owned the length of Private's tackle along with a thicker width. He swallowed hard. She should be slick and ready, but Skipper was large enough to hurt.
"Hey! I quit when anybody says to!"
"Of course you do, sugarplum. Nobody's saying you don't."
He moved in as if he were bobbing for apples: a press, then a withdrawal, then a deeper plunge. He gauged every flicker of her eyelashes, every quiver of her thighs. He paused. He slid his right flipper down and stroked between them. Private saw her passion flare while her desires wrenched helpless moans that tore at his heart. Her head turned restlessly on the pillow.
"Can I invade you, my fine fury?"
"Well, sure, what's the point if I don't - "
"Hphphphphp! I mean it, Skipper!"
Skipper swirled his flipper where their bodies met. Private wished he could see more and raised himself on one elbow.
Skipper withdrew carefully and then thrust back inside her as slow as molasses on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Kitka drew one furled talon along his spine. She lifted herself for a kiss; he thrust his tongue inside in sync with the slow motion of his hips.
Private felt his face burn; either he ought to leave or he should join them. He could preen one of the delicate multi-colored bands on Kitka's breast. He could lick her earhole. He could knead Skipper's sturdy back and feel the solid muscles. He might even mount his love, if he dared.
"That's my limit, querida. No threesomes or moresomes involving team members. That would really screw up our friendships, and I include you in the mix."
"Good to know. Not that I ever dreamed it would actually happen - "
"Suuuuure, you didn't. Suuuuuuuure, Marlene."
Private felt a little dizzy as he pictured rolfing Skipper's back from thick, corded shoulder to taut, rippling swell of the target zone. He could picture diving inside, preparing ever so thoroughly. He could imagine his leader's groan ending with a whine when he introduced the other flipper, too.
Private moaned without thinking, in tune with Kitka as she grew used to Skipper's girth. Uncertain and blushing, Private felt his chest constrict until it was difficult to breathe.
Black flippertips curled around the falcon's shoulders and Kitka cried out as the penguin jolted her with a portion of his strength for the first time. Private swallowed hard as Skipper found a rhythm: slow but powerful, each thrust carefully measured. He raised his head to watch his darling's face, judging her response with the same intensity he had shown before.
"I like this part."
"Skipper, I knew you would."
Kitka provoked his kiss by lifting her head to his, beak open and willing. Skipper granted her wish as his hips moved slowly, deliberately. Private watched Skipper expand upon the simple kiss, fencing her tongue as he bit at her beak. His mouth streaked smears on her face as he tasted her.
Kitka's breathing quickened in steep, panting gasps. Private thought she was in pain, but then he realized it was rapture because she clutched Skipper's shoulders and released them again and again. She groaned, her hips shifting as he kept moving relentlessly. The young penguin saw that Skipper's blue eyes dilated to nearly black.
"Don't stop," Kitka whispered, tongue flashing out. "Like that … like that …" Her voice strained and her tongue refused to stay inside her mouth as she arched beneath him. Skipper laughed deep and soft as he moved steady as a beating heart. She writhed under him while she lifted up to meet his thrusts even though she could not raise his body.
Private watched Kitka come undone on Skipper's cock, her gasps melting into whimpers, the clutch at his shoulders growing frantic, tremors gusting through her in waves. She dug her pinions in at last with a cry, bucking up under Skipper. He merely gave that laugh again and stilled. Kitka whimpered underneath the press of weight and skill until she settled down with a fluttering breast.
"Wow."
"Thanks."
Private was glad it was over because maybe now he could find his own release.
But Skipper did not think the same. He withdrew and Private saw the thick cock that gleamed with slick honey from them both. The liquid sound it made coming out he would hear in his sweetest dreams.
"Again, mi dulce," Skipper murmured, mauling at her breast feathers with a beak controlled with exquisite precision. He lifted her thigh over his elbow as he pushed straight in without warning.
Kitka's eyes went wide as she inhaled sharply. Skipper lay resting on her breast and turned her face aside; he pressed a spike of flippertip between her jaws and put it on her tongue, then leaned in to nip at her earhole, raping her mouth very gently as he began to move his hips again.
"I have never raped - "
"Go with it. That's an order. Honestly, you have no whimsy in you at all."
"Rape isn't funny or whimsical. I was nearly raped once and if Manfredi and Johnson hadn't stopped him -"
"And I'm overjoyed you escaped it, but this is fantasy, it's not real, it's - hear me out. Come on!"
"All the same - "
Marlene barreled along with her story.
Kitka made a sound from deep in her throat that might have been surprise, but she was game for the play. She nursed as did penguin hatchlings from their parents' craws for the tasty fish emulsion. She squealed as Skipper nipped her earhole again.
Private never thought to see the queen of the skies of New York City brought to this; his cock leaped up and demanded attention. He pressed it against his lower belly where it throbbed with a life of its own.
"Poor kid. Still, it's good training in delayed gratification. I approve of this message."
"That's what you wanted this time, you stinker, you."
"That's it. That's good," Skipper rumbled softly. He kept his flipper in her mouth, disregarding the weight of her leg, and then moved her thigh so that her knee pressed towards her shoulder.
"A little more now, that's it," he mumbled against her feathers as he kept up the slow, steady thrusts.
The rocking motion of his hips lengthened as he plumbed her depths. She made throttled sounds at each thrust, pleading low in hoarse, raw words. He took his flipper from her mouth and brought the slick, gleaming blackness between them to stroke her, patient and measured.
"Skipper," Kitka moaned, ducking her face against his neck. "Ah!" She shuddered once, then again. Private saw her buck against Skipper's flipper a third time, and a fourth, small comes coaxed by his deft touch.
"Good, is it?" Private would never forget that gruff voice, roughened by pleasure mixed with sublime control. "There's more in you yet, dollface." He licked the side of her beak, then let her subside. He kissed his way down her belly and parted her legs so he might look at her. She spread for him, willing; Private drew a quivering breath to see her opened wide, her center a deep pink, swollen as it pulsed.
"No, she was more a shell pink down there, like the pretty inside of a conch - "
"Be quiet. I'm warning you."
Skipper dragged his flippertips along either side of her folds to disclose her treasures, then bent to kiss, flickering his tongue and making her cry out. He nuzzled inher there as deeply as he had kissed her mouth, uttering a low growl of pleasure in his throat. He speared her center with a careful beak and rubbed all around. But before long he lifted himself and moved back to her face.
"You taste like cotton candy," he told her, husky and gentle, and offered his kiss.
Kitka accepted with a smoldering look, lapping softly at his beak and the encircling tiny feathers of the mouth that had pleasured her. She cleaned his face up to his eyes and down to his white throat, her small pink tongue darting and flickering.
When she had finished, Skipper purred approval and mounted her again, this time driving in with force.
"Excelente characterization of me, Marlene. I dig it."
"Of course you do."
Kitka wailed, and her razor sharp beak dug at his shoulders, but he ignored it. He held himself upright, his shoulders flexing over her as his hips pumped harder and faster.
Kitka writhed under him. This time Private could seethe action, see the penguin's thick, slick cock stretching her open, pumping in and out of her, the friction between them making a wet, sucking sound. Her eyes opened wide, and she gasped, her wings flailing, finally settling to brace her against the carved headboard of the bed. She pushed back against him, fierce, and this time when he laughed, she laughed with him.
"Napoleon's pastries, it's got a headboard? Fancy."
"IKEA does have the goodies, yeah."
"I think you can take more yet," Skipper murmured. "You are not as featherweight as you look, are you?" He chuckled against her as their bodies slapped together urgently. "I'll give you a nooner to remember, never fear." He bit lightly at her breast, rolling her auburn feathers with his beak. "You may have had the best falcons can offer," his eyes darted to Private briefly, "But now you are in the bunk of a penguin."
Private showed that he flushed crimson by ducking his head and looking down.
"He does that a lot. It's cute. All right, all right, I'll be quiet."
Kitka moaned and clasped Skipper's head to her, struggling for breath. Private refused to give himself ease, but his cock ached with frustration.
"Make this last forever," Kitka urged the love of her life with a voice nearly the croak of a crow. "I want it all!"
Skipper drew back then and thrust with a mighty heave of his hips, making her feathers stir upon her chest. Kitka tossed her head back in a desperate cry. Private feared anyone hearing might come bustling over to save her.
"With our intruder alerts? Never gonna happen."
"Arrgggh! You're not in your command center, you're on top of a midtown skyscraper on a TempurPedic bed with ginormous pillows and duvets! The light mauve Egyptian cotton sheets are 800 count! Pay attention to the setting! Gee, I went to a lot of trouble thinking it up - "
"Now you've got to realize that I made an error. You've bewitched, bothered and bewildered me with your mad storytelling skills."
"Hmmph. Way to save yourself, mister."
"Now!" Kitka went mad beneath him, bucking as he lifted her from the bed and rolled his hips powerfully.
"You are taller than I am," he grumbled and withdrew. "I want to kiss you as I take you, babe. Here, for me," he coaxed, and pulled out so he could fold her legs to rest over his shoulders. She moaned as he laid his weight against her.
"Try this, Kitkie, you'll like it," he kissed the words against her beak, and Kitka sighed her consent, wrapping her strong wings around his neck and licking her way into his mouth.
"Always adjust the attack position for the terrain, Marlene - ow! No pinching!"
Skipper positioned himself, cradling her head, then pushed in.
She arched, but he held her, kissing her; his hips pistoned hard as he took her with savage thrusts. Private could hear her breath catch as she struggled for air; his weight crushed her into the soft memory foam. Her cries were all but constant now; she whimpered into his mouth as he had her, his own feathers iridescent with the oil that Private had preened onto him this amazing day.
"Private is, oh, adequate at preening, but Kowalski is better. Okay, I'll belay talking now."
"This story is not a team effort, so don't give me plotpoints about you and Kowalski getting it on, Skipper."
"I didn't say we did. You and your imagination, Marlene. Sheesh."
Private slitted his eyes because he thought he'd otherwise succumb to emotional overload. Skipper held Kitka, sounding her depths hard and fierce: she, the proud ruler of the sky. Private could not avert his eyes for long, driven to the shores of the Eternally Foggy Sea with lust, anguish and shame.
Kitka begged now against his panting mouth, "Please, oh please …" as he pushed her legs hard against her shoulders. Private flung himself to his back, squeezing his eyes tight, but the sounds were even worse: the slippery press of body against of body, the suck and slither of Skipper's cock moving in her wetness, Kitka's breath thick and heavy in her throat, Skipper's heaving gasps.
"Guh, those sounds! Marlene!"
"Always deploy audio effects when you tell a story, Skipper."
Kitka shrieked the cry she made when diving through clouds that failed to hide her doomed prey; Skipper pursued his will with equal intensity. Private felt his eyes slip open because keeping his eyes closed was worse. Her face was wet with either tears or hard, biting kisses as she thrashed her head side to side.
She battered against the penguin, spasming around his cock; he purred but kept moving, giving her no mercy. Private thought she would go mad before her peak receded and then rose again, sharing the control of her body that Skipper drove insane. The commander ignored the small wounds from her talons and then caught her wings with a low growl. He pressed harder against her until all she could do was whine with every thrust, her eyes wild, her beak trembling.
"Almost, chica," Skipper told her, kissing her, then relented, unfolding her to lie ragged and panting against the bed where he held her as easily as he might hold a butterfly.
"There's a kind of butterfly called a skipper, you know."
"I know, you silly."
"Once more, on your knees before I finish." He positioned her, his flippers steady as the unmoving Cleopatra's Needle, helping her when she trembled like a fledgling. He arranged her kneeling, her thighs spread wide so she would accommodate his height.
"Hold tight," he instructed, moving her wings to the headboard, and she locked her primaries about the carved branches as she trembled.
"That sounds like an outstanding bed. We need to get us a bigger one if I'm staying over more."
"Yeah, that's a thought - okay now, no more distractions. I'm nearly done."
Skipper knelt behind her, surveying her, running his touch over her back, her shoulders, and her bottom. Trailing his flippertips through her folds, he lifted them to taste. His cock quivered, dark red, the foreskin drawn taut around the head, a bead welling there as Private watched. It grew until it dripped once onto the duvet.
Private could see tremors of restraint wracking him, his flippers shaking now. The veins in his cock stood proud off the thin skin there as he reached to steady it, drawing it across Kitka's tender flesh, teasing her center in pleasing cruelty.
Without warning he thrust in to the hilt, forcing her forward, but she withstood him. Then he was moving, pounding her, wringing sharp shrieks from her throat with each snap of his hips. Private knew she would bruise with the clutching flippers on her; they sank deep.
He invaded her without restraint, his head thrown back, deep groans in his chest. Private stared at the shining rod of his leader's shaft as it sank and appeared, so swiftly he wondered the two of them did not catch fire from it.
"Catch fire? Flight of fancy, much?"
"It's my story, my words. Shut up."
"Ooooh, getting frosty. I like you this way."
Kitka cried out desperately, pushing back against Skipper's cock, their bodies slamming together. His breath hissed and his motions turned ragged, yet he clung to control, slipping a flippertip around to flick against Kitka again until she screamed. He drove in hard for a final thrust, his hips jerking.
They arched together in the world that is better than this one and then collapsed, Skipper lying across her, his eyes closed. His gleaming cock slipped free and his seed came with it, trickling wet over her vent and seeping between her thighs.
"You're nearly there, I can tell. Cat got your tongue? That's okay. I understand, honey. Listen."
Private uttered a choked, broken sound. He had scoured his control reserves clean to avoid touching himself to the sight of Skipper pleasuring as he'd never thought to behold. Private lay aching with want because never would he wank in time with them. No.
It would not have been polite.
Private fell to his side, turning away, trembling.
"Can I bite you?" Skipper murmured, hoarse and gentle.
Skipper moved faster between her thighs, his breath irregular. "S-Soon, Marlene - "
"No. Not until I say so."
Kitka moaned assent, and Private knew that Skipper sucked the blood to the surface of her throat, where only those who she allowed close might see where he marked her as his own.
"Skipper," she whispered in a voice sweet with afterglow. "You are amazing!"
"Wait for it, Skipper."
"Hmmmgggnnnhhkay - "
Skipper chuckled, pleased, and Private heard them turn over, sighing with sleepy contentment. As for him, his flippers gave him relief, though he rolled to the edge of their shared bed and wanked over the side onto the tar and gravel of the rooftop. He slept with them but not touching.
"Allll right, tengo caridad, yes, like that, stiff and proud and - that's the way, let me help you - in out in out and come for me now."
Skipper did.
He pumped wet heat between her thighs with a groan as she plunged deeper inside him, swirled one digit and then dared two. He scrabbled to get away instinctively but all his strength had drained out of him with his seed. She removed her digits carefully and glimpsed him so open and vulnerable that her heart clenched.
"Kitkeeeeeeene - "
Oh, ouch. That hurt where she hadn't expected it to. She acknowledged the pain with a kiss to either muscled buttock after prying them apart to ensure the opening returned to normal pucker because she had never done this with Guillermo or any other lover. She had to admit relief when he rolled off her lap with his chest heaving and no creases of pain on his face. He looked nearly unconscious from pleasure.
"M-Mission accomplished, honeygirl, my love."
There it was, he was forthright with the important words and now the ball was in her court to reply in turn. She sniffled in sudden emotion sweeter than cotton candy. "I love you, Skipper. N-N-Nobody else ever made me feel like you do." The tears became a deluge to rival Noah's. "What are we going to do about Private?"
IOIOIOIOIO
He opened his flippers wide to hold her, to make her accept the dissonance between her idealized memory of her family and her present reality more easily because what she and he had was real and true. It was true as his love for Private and Sally and Tactic, hell for Kowalski and Rico, too. "We don't need to do anything except love, babe. It's all we animals can do." He patted her back as they tumbled together in her bed amid stickied up blankets and messed fur and tacky feathers. It felt right.
She was getting his coat wet and she couldn't stop sobbing because he could tell that something broke inside her when he came at her command.
Skipper caressed his lover's back as he had soothed her before they two got together-together. "Don't think of us as an extramarital affair, Marlene, think of it as extra love."
She continued to wail.
"Marlene, babe, please don't - "
"I c-can't h-help thinking of my parents having me to make their family complete and then you and Sally and Tactic, oh oh oh and P-Private - "
"Different circumstances, Marlene. Now stop."
Did she have to share the burden of these feelings because she owed him the truth? "I feel like a whore, like a cheater."
Skipper shook her shoulders. "You are not one, one of those. Don't talk dirty now. You're not one, you hear me?"
"Just because you didn't leave money on the dresser, er you know what I mean hic - "
He waited until she calmed a trifle. "If anybody said that other than you, I'd put the beat down on him so braaping hard - "
Marlene sniffled noisily like Burt did when he had a cold. "It wouldn't be a him. It would be a her. My m-m-m-ommmmmmm ahhhhh ahhhhh hic hic hic ahhhhhhh huh huh oh ahhhhhhh - "
Skipper resorted to logic rather than touchy-feely for this quandary. "I've never met her but I know her darling child intimately. Is it likely that she'd hurt you like that? The apple never falls far from the tree." He hoped that the combination of logic and folk wisdom would work as he engulfed her furry form from behind. He needed to leave soon. He'd like to stay longer to snuggle, but she knew the workaday timetable as well as he did.
The strategy blew up like one of Rico's smoke bombs. She twisted out of his embrace except for her tail between his legs. She rolled over so he could see her tearful ruin of a face. What was wrong with her? "It's true! You think it's true! Get away! Go home! Go home to your family!"
"Okay!" She needed space and by all that was penguin, so did he. He couldn't fight this seesawing storm surge and as he snapped to his feet in renewed commando strength, she matched him in speed with emotional adrenaline. She was distressed enough to look ugly and harsh words tumbled from him. "You're acting stupid as a human, Marlene. I've always said you were smart."
He didn't dodge her slap and he also didn't think she could cry any harder, but she did. "Guh guh dint mean that - "
The years of experience as a leader stood him in good stead. "I get the picture. This is blitzkrieging you with too much, too soon. Us becoming an item a month and a half ago and Private and the babies and the zombie weirdness with Frances Alberta and her Mole Man, not to mention any Mole Women - "
"¡Cállate y déjame en paz!" She resembled her old feral self when she dashed her art supplies to the floor and stomped her easel into kindling.
He left by the main entrance and splashed himself clean in her pond. It wasn't until he reached Private's side and pecked his cheek in greeting that he wondered if Alice had ever seen him leaving the otter habitat and what she thought about it if she did. He supposed Alice's pregnancy derailed suspicions regarding penguins, at least he hoped so.
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Undertow