Crazy About the Baumgartners

Chapter Four

“So when are we getting the baby?” I flipped through the racks, watching Mrs. B hold dresses up in front of herself.

“Next week.” Mrs. B met my eyes in the mirror.

Every time anyone mentioned the baby, her eyes got all dewy and shiny. They’d called last week, letting the Baumgartners know they had a baby they wanted to place with them, but it would be a few weeks, because the baby was still in the hospital. I’d gleaned most of the details from overheard conversations. The baby was a girl, three months old. She’d been taken away from her parents before, as a newborn, but she’d been returned. Now she’d been taken away for a second time, which Mrs. B said was a good sign that they wouldn’t give her back again. That meant they would probably be able to adopt her permanently.

Mrs. B was over the moon. They’d already prepared a nursery, converting Doc’s office, the room down the hall from mine. It had come together quickly, thanks to hiring a painter, a muralist and an interior decorator. Now the room was Pepto-Bismol pink with white stripes and walking into it made me a little dizzy. There was a mural on one wall of a cherry blossom branch. And Mrs. B couldn’t stop buying little girl clothes. The closet was already full of dresses.

I thought they were getting a little ahead of themselves, counting chickens before they hatched and all that-but on the other hand, I didn’t blame them. This poor little girl had been through so much already in her little life, she could use parents like the Baumgartners. I didn’t like to think about the things I’d overheard-being born drug addicted couldn’t be easy for anyone. Then came the bruises, the contusions, the burns and abrasions. And then, finally, the ultimate neglect. Leaving her in a hot car while Mom shopped at Wal-Mart.

She probably wouldn’t be alive if some Good Samaritan hadn’t broken the car window to get her out before calling the cops. I’d seen the story on the news and had been horrified. It was hard to believe we were getting that baby. The Baumgartners would be her savior. She would grow up with them, a part of their family, and they would love her and take care of her and give her more than most children in the world ever received from their parents.

“Hey, Gretchen, let’s go to Gymboree.” Mrs. B had abandoned her dresses-four of them in all. She was terrible at making up her mind.

“Again?” I smiled, putting the dress in my hand back on the rack.

“Come on.” Mrs. B seemed to be in a really big hurry all of a sudden, abandoning her pursuit of the perfect dress and grabbing my elbow, steering me toward the front of the store.

“Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. “Let’s go buy some more pink stuff.”

We’d almost gotten to the front of the store when I saw the reason for her haste. Ronnie was standing at one of the racks, looking through bathing suits. And Vince was standing beside her, looking all buff in a black tank top and jeans. The man’s arms were huge. He dwarfed Ronnie, who laughed when he bent to whisper something in her ear.

I stopped, shaking Mrs. B’s arm off my elbow, watching them talk and flirt and giggle. Ronnie was smiling. Beaming, really. She looked incredibly happy. I knew I should be happy for her, but something thick and bitter crept into my throat, constricting it. I knew it was jealousy, and I had no right to be jealous. We were over. It was over.

“Come on, Gretchen,” Mrs. B murmured, taking my elbow again, gently this time. “Let’s go.”

I knew she wanted to get me out of there before Ronnie saw me. Maybe she thought I was going to make a scene, but that wasn’t my thing. I was more than happy to slip out unnoticed. After all, that’s what I’d done when I discovered Ronnie having sex with Vince in our bed. If I could do it then, I could certainly do it now. I started to leave, following Mrs. B.

That’s when Ronnie looked up and saw me. And I froze.

It was a moment, just a brief, fleeting thing. Our eyes locked. She recognized me, her gaze moving to Mrs. B by my side and then back again. Her smile faded and the suit she was holding dropped to the floor. Then Vince noticed her noticing me. I had a moment of insanity, when I wanted to run over and do something. I didn’t know what. Shake her. Kiss her. Something.

But I didn’t. Instead, I turned and walked toward the exit, Mrs. B following me now.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. B asked as we left Macy’s and headed toward Gymboree at the other end of the mall.

“Fine,” I lied, walking faster. My stomach was in knots. Of course, she knew I was lying.

“Hey, let’s go get some lunch.” Mrs. B caught up, grabbing my hand in hers, squeezing. “How about P.F. Changs? Let’s go eat the Great Wall of Chocolate.”

“Whatever you want to do.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

The kids were at camp this week and Mrs. B had decided to take the week off too so we could have a “real vacation” she said. Doc was still working, of course, but we’d gone to dinner last night, the three of us, which was a lot of fun. And today Mrs. B said she wanted to have a girls’ day out. She wanted us to buy some sexy dresses to go to a new nightclub tonight that had just opened.

“Don’t let her ruin things,” Mrs. B pleaded. “You’re going to move on. You’ll find someone else. I promise you.”

I nodded, trying on a smile. I knew she was right. Probably right. I mean, I’d get over Ronnie. We weren’t even really, officially, anything at all. So why was I holding on to what we’d had? I knew I needed to let go. Maybe Mrs. B was right. Maybe I just needed to move on. Find someone else. Maybe several someones.

“Okay, let’s go shopping.” I squeezed her hand, seeing her smile reach her eyes at my sudden enthusiasm. “I need to find the sexiest dress on the planet for tonight.”

“That’s the spirit.” Mrs. B laughed and we headed into the mall.

It had been a long time since I’d been to a night club or even a party. Ronnie and I had been homebodies. She spent so much time with school and studying, and me working at the Baumgartners and supplementing that income with selling the photos I took on stock photo sites, that most of the time we just crashed and watched Netflix DVDs together. Sometimes we went out to see an actual movie, but we rarely hung out with other people and never went to parties.

So I was nervous. I used to go to parties and nightclubs. I used to pick up guys. And girls. But I didn’t know if I was that person anymore. So I tried my best to find her, to bring her out with a short, black sequined dress; a cut, color and highlights at the salon that afternoon with Mrs. B; and the application of make-up, which I hardly ever wore anymore.

“My God, Gretchen, you have the most beautiful skin.” Mrs. B swabbed my cheeks with a fat bristled brush.

“Thanks. I’m so pale though.” I met her eyes, beautiful and bright, rimmed with mascara and eyeliner. Her dress was just as low-cut as my own, her tanned cleavage pushed up in the wonder of a Miracle Bra, not that she needed one. But it certainly made her breasts stand out, tantalizing mountains of flesh. A silver pendant necklace hung between them, drawing even more attention there, hanging loosely as she leaned forward to put the finishing touches on my makeup.

“You’re like peaches and cream.” Mrs. B ran a finger under my eye, cleaning up a smudge, her gaze moving lower to my own not inconsiderable, although far more pale, cleavage. “Delicious.”

I met her eyes for a moment, feeling a hot, tight clench in my belly, my gaze dropping down to the floor. Not that there wasn’t anything to look at there. Her heels were four inches high, her legs long, so tanned she didn’t have need of pantyhose. The hem of her red dress barely came to mid-thigh. We’d gone a little wild with the dress buying, I thought. They were probably a little too short, too low-cut. But I had to admit, the dress had the desired effect. I felt incredibly sexy in it.

“I should get a tan,” I mused, unable to help looking at her long, tawny legs. “Do you go to a salon?”

I knew she must, because she didn’t have any tan lines-although I wasn’t supposed to know that, and didn’t say so.

“During the winter I do.” Mrs. B smiled, standing back to admire her handiwork. “But in the summer, I try to spend as much time as I can in the backyard. You should come lay out with me this week. Get some color.”

“I will.” I nodded in agreement.

“And you’ll have a chance to soak up the sun when we go to Key West over Christmas.”

I smiled at that. I used to go with the Holmes’ on vacation all the time. Key West was one of their regular vacation spots. That’s where we’d run into the Baumgartners in the first place.

“There’s something about the Florida sun that turns your skin such a gorgeous golden brown.” Mrs. B tilted my chin up, looking at my makeup, admiring her handiwork. “I remember when we took Ronnie. She got as brown as a little seal.”

She realized her error, stopping and looking at me.

“I’m sorry, Gretch…”

“It’s okay. I was there, remember?” I reminded her. “She’s a brunette, though. I don’t tan quite as easily. I’m just so fair.”

“It’s that white-blonde hair.” She smiled, running her fingers through my hair, sending goose flesh down my arms. “I’m blonde, but you’re- really blonde.”

She ran a finger over my bare shoulder. The dress was sleeveless.

“Are you blonde all over?” she wondered aloud, her gaze following the path of her finger slowly down my arm.

“Yes, but…” I hesitated, not sure how much I wanted to share.

“But?” She smirked, meeting my eyes.

“Well.” I shrugged. “I’m shaved.”

“Completely?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“What a shame.” She tsked at that idea. “You should leave a little bit of that blonde. That would be sexy.”

I smiled. “Maybe I will.”

“So what do you think?” Mrs. B put her arm around my shoulder, turning so we both faced the mirror. “Will Doc fall out of his chair when we walk downstairs?”

“His eyes are going to pop out of his head,” I assured her. “You look so beautiful.”

She did. That red dress, those red nails and lips. She was stunning.

“So do you.” Mrs. B fingered the ends of my hair, falling like corn silk against my shoulders. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you found someone to bring home tonight.”

“Mrs. B!” I raised my eyebrows, surprised.

“We wouldn’t object.” She squeezed my shoulder, dropping a wink. “You just have to be discreet.”

“Of course!” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do anything like that. I mean, especially if the kids were home.”

“But they’re not,” she reminded me. “Come on, let’s go shock my husband.”

Something happened when I walked down those stairs. Doc was in the kitchen sitting at the table flipping through a magazine and he glanced up when he saw Carrie appear at the bottom of the stairs. I was right behind her and I saw his eyes widen, a smile starting at the corners of his mouth. Then I came up beside her as we approached, and his gaze shifted to me. His eyebrows went up and his jaw dropped and he literally gasped out loud.

“What do you think?” Carrie prompted, smirking. “Will we do?”

“Oh you’ll most definitely do.” Doc stood, still looking at me with that hungry gaze.

He was quite a handsome man, strong jaw and gorgeous dark eyes. And I knew he had an incredible body. There was a gym at the hospital where he had privileges and Mrs. B said he worked out there. Even if I hadn’t seen him naked, I could see he was fit. He was dressed for clubbing, just a tight white t-shirt, an unbuttoned navy dress shirt over that, and jeans. Since I’d been living with them, I’d seen him dressed more casually, but somehow tonight it was different.

“How did I get so lucky, getting not just one but two gorgeous women on my arm?” He offered one to Mrs. B and another one to me.

Mrs. B didn’t seem to mind the way Doc admired my too low-cut, too-short dress. In fact, she commented on it.

“Isn’t she something?” Mrs. B asked as we got into the car, her in the passenger seat, me in the back. “She’s going to get all the boys tonight. And all the girls.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” I laughed.

“It feels so good to be kidless for a little while.” She sighed happily, leaning back in her seat and turning on the radio.

“Enjoy it,” Doc said. “Because we’re going to be up nights pretty soon.”

“I know.” She smiled over at him, sliding a hand over his leg. “We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”

“How are you feeling about the whole baby thing, Gretchen?” Doc asked, meeting my eyes in the rear view mirror as he stopped at a light.

“Who doesn’t love babies?” I asked.

The club was dark and they’d decided to do an eighties night for their opening, so we walked in to Hungry Like a Wolf by Duran Duran. Doc walked us to a table and then went to the bar to place an order for drinks. I sat back, looking around, taking it all in. They made it ladies night, so Mrs. B and I had gotten in for free. As an advertising ploy, it had worked. The place was packed.

“Want to dance?” Mrs. B leaned in to talk to me, but she still had to yell. She nodded toward the dance floor, already loaded with writhing bodies.

“Let’s wait for Doc!” I yelled back. I needed some liquid courage before I got up to dance in this dress.

Thankfully he returned loaded down with drinks, sliding into the booth next to Mrs. B. There were booths lining one wall, tables against the other. The rest was a dance floor, with the DJ up high in a balcony section. High overhead was an old fashioned disco ball they had turning with multi-colored lights flashing. It was like old-school clubbing night.

I downed my mojito, feeling the alcohol burn my throat and heat my chest.

“Come on, baby, let’s dance!” Mrs. B grabbed Doc’s hand, nudging him out of the booth with her hip, her dress riding high up on her thighs. She glanced back at me, holding out her other hand. “You too!”

So it was the three of us on the dance floor together, mashed up with all of the rest of the sweaty bodies, Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer thrumming through my whole body. I watched them dance together, their eyes meeting, so much heat between them I almost had to look away. There were a hundred people around us and yet the moment was intimate, between the two of them.

And then they looked at me, and suddenly, it was between the three of us. I looked between the two of them, feeling Mrs. B’s hip bumping up against mine, Doc’s hand sliding over my lower back as we moved together. It was a fast song, but our movements were slow, sensuous, deliberate. They included me, separate at first, and then sandwiched between them, Doc behind me, Mrs. B in front, her arms around my neck, my hands on her hips.

It was like sex with our clothes on and the excitement rose, higher and higher, her breasts pressed to mine, Doc’s hands on my hips, and I felt his cock against my ass. He was gloriously hard and grinding, making me gasp and whimper. My reaction made her smile, dancing closer still, her thigh riding up between mine, so soft and smooth it was intoxicating.

I gave into it completely, riding the Baumgartner wave. I don’t know how long we danced, but it was long enough to start getting blisters on my feet from my too-high heels. We finally made our way off the dance floor, finding the booth we’d vacated now occupied. Instead, we made our way to the bar-I was panting, I was so dehydrated-and quenched our thirst with more alcohol. Which somehow just made me thirstier.

“Bathroom!” I yelled to Mrs. B, pointing to the “restrooms” sign above an alcove.

She nodded, taking my elbow and we both went, signing to Doc where we were headed. Even the bathroom was crowded, but at least it was quieter. We waited in line, both of us cooling off, our backs against the cement block walls.

“Having fun?” Mrs. B asked, glancing over at me. We were so close, our shoulders were touching.

“Totally,” I replied with a grin, using a popular eighties phrase, making her laugh.

When it was my turn, I went into the stall, pulling my damp panties down my moist thighs and peed, biting my lip when I wiped. My pussy lips were fat and swollen, my juices slick, requiring another pass. My clit throbbed and I actually considered just getting myself off right there in the stall, getting it over with, releasing some of the tension. But there were too many people waiting. Including Mrs. B.

We washed our hands at adjacent sinks, next to girls even younger than me standing in front of a full length mirror, adjusting hemlines and touching up makeup. I glanced in the mirror, checking my own makeup, noticing Mrs. B doing the same. Her hair, long and curled for the occasion, fell in ringlets over her shoulders. My own, so blonde it was almost white, was bone-straight, no matter what I tried to do, so I didn’t fight nature.

“Ready?” She met my eyes in the mirror and winked, reaching for my hand.

I took it and we made our way out of the bathroom, which wasn’t easy. Everyone seemed to need to relieve themselves at the same time. We found Doc at a booth-he waved us over. Mrs. B let me get in first, and I slid in next to Doc. Then, instead of getting in next to me, she slipped into the booth on the other side, sandwiching him between us.

He smiled, putting an arm around his wife, but not around me. We’d been so close, dancing together. My God, I’d felt his cock pressed against my ass. My pussy was still aching for it. I reached for my drink, taking a long sip, my gaze sweeping the crowd. Most of them were my age, or even younger. I wondered if the Baumgartners felt out of place. Why had they suggesting coming here? I wondered. In the time I’d lived with them, I hadn’t known them to do anything like this. Of course, this was the first time we’d been without the kids.

Then I felt Doc’s hand on my knee under the table. I stiffened, feeling him shift, his thigh against mine, his hand moving, slowly, up, up, up from my knee, grazing my thigh. My pussy clenched in anticipation, my body wanting what it wanted, even while my brain was going crazy, telling me this was wrong, that this was going to ruin everything, that if Mrs. B found out…

“Hey, I wondered if you wanted to dance?”

I glanced up, seeing a guy leaning against our table, looking right at me.

Later, I wondered what might have happened that night if I’d said no, but I bolted. I smiled an apology back at Doc and Mrs. B but they both smiled back and waved me on. Maybe this had been their plan all along, I thought, as I danced with a guy whose name I didn’t even know. I couldn’t help remembering my discussion with Mrs. B about her not minding if I brought some guy home.

So that’s exactly what I ended up doing.

I left the Baumgartners out on the dance floor-they were dancing a few feet from us-and went home with him. I told them, of course, and saw a knowing look in Mrs. B’s eyes, in the curve of her painted red lips. Doc winked, giving me a long, sweeping look up and down, then glancing at the guy standing next to me with one cocked eyebrow, like he’d measured him and found him wanting, but he waved me on too.

His name was Christian, which I found supremely ironic. He told me to call him Chris When I got into his Acura, he asked where we were going-he lived with his parents and was still at the community college-so I directed him to the Baumgartners. I didn’t tell him he was getting laid tonight, but I think he knew, and he kept looking over at me like he was dreaming, trying to make small talk.

“So you’re a nanny?”

“Yep,” I agreed. “A live-in nanny.”

“Are the kids at home?”

“They’re at camp.”

“And your employers?” he asked. “They’re okay with… uh… visitors?”

“They’re still back at the club.”

“Oh.” He blinked in surprised.

“Drive faster, Chris.” I put my hand on his leg.

“I…” He glanced down at my hand and back up at me. “I don’t want to get a ticket.”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

He floored it.

“Nice place,” he remarked when I led him upstairs at the Baumgartners.

“He’s a doctor.” I led him by the hand down the hall, past the bathroom, into my room.

“Damn.” He looked around, blinking in surprise as I switched on the light. “Nice.”

“Want to see something nicer?” I pushed him down onto the bed, lifting the hem of my skirt and pulling it slowly off over my head. I wasn’t wearing any stockings. Just a bra and panties and heels now. Christian’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open.

“You don’t mess around,” he said, running a hand through his short cropped brown hair. He was mostly ordinary looking but he had nice blue eyes and a sweet smile. He dressed kind of nerdy-a polo and chinos-but maybe that was just him sticking to the eighties theme of the night. Besides, he wouldn’t be in those clothes much longer.

“Catch up,” I said, hands on my hips, cocking them.

He grinned, pulling his shirt off over his head and standing to undo his pants. I smiled, liking what I saw so far. His chest and arms were nicely defined, his abs less so, but he had a very nice treasure trail I followed with my gaze as he slid his pants down. He had to sit to take off his shoes and I did the same, kicking off my heels. When he was down to his boxers, I knelt, wanting to open my present myself.

“Oh God.” He moaned when I slipped his boxers down over his erection, delighting in my new toy. He was a full seven or eight inches, thick, quite hard, and curved to my left. I tilted my head to take it in my mouth, so cock-starved, especially since watching Doc and Dani and Mrs. B together, I couldn’t wait.

I sucked him for a moment, feeling his hand tense in my hair, and then stopped, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and looking up at him.

“Ready to have some fun?” I smiled, walking over to the doorway and flicking off the light.

There was a night light in the hallway and we could see enough. I saw him sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting. I pushed him back, sliding my panties down my thighs. They were soaking wet by now. I slid up his body, straddling him. His hands moved over my hips, my thighs. He moaned when I let my pussy lips ride over the length of his cock, leaving a wet trail from scrotum to tip.

But I didn’t stop there.

“I want your mouth.” It wasn’t a question and he didn’t hesitate. I had to come. I’d been so fucking hot all night, dancing with Doc and Mrs. B. My pussy was on fire. And I’d been dreaming of a tongue since I watched Mrs. B lick Dani to orgasm. I settled myself down over his face.

“Mmmm.” Christian’s arms went around my hips, pulling my pussy down, parting my swollen lips with his eager tongue.

Oh hell. He was good. Really good. He teased my hole first, sucking out my juices. I heard him moan, swallowing the taste of me. Then he slipped his tongue to the top of my cleft, flicking it back and forth over the hood of my clit, teasing. I moaned and moved my hips, feeling his hands dig into my ass. He had nice, big hands. They reminded me of Doc’s and that turned me on even more.

“Put your fingers in,” I whispered, grinding my hips, mashing my pussy against his lashing tongue. “Fuck me. Do it.”

He slipped two fingers inside and I moaned, feeling my pussy clench, wanting more. I was going to fuck that sweet cock of his, but first, I wanted to come on his face. I rubbed my palms over my tits, my nipples hard through my bra, making fast circles, sending hot sparks down between my legs.

“Come on, finger me,” I gasped, fucking back, using his tongue now, working hard to get myself off. Fuck, it felt so good I was dizzy. I reached a hand back, pressing my palm flat against his chest to steady myself.

“Oh God! Yes!” My hips bucked forward and he grabbed me, hanging on. “Oh! Oh! Make me come! Making me fucking cooooommmme!”

I closed my eyes and pictured her pussy poised over my face, those fat, tanned lips, the hot pink inside, pictured her mashing her pussy around and around against my tongue while she licked me too.

Oh Mrs. B, Mrs. B, make me come, make me commmmmeee…

And I was, all over her face, flooding her mouth and tongue, listening to the sweet sound of her moaning in my head, swallowing my juices while I swallowed hers. So fucking delicious.

“Oh yes.” I panted, climbing off him, still shivering. “Oh that was good.”

“Mmmm,” he agreed. I heard him swallowing, taking deep breaths.

“Sorry, did I drown you?”

“Hell no.” He insisted. “Come here, let’s do that again.”

“No,” I protested. “I want your cock.”

He didn’t object to that. I didn’t figure he would. I just hoped he could last long enough for me to come again. Because I needed to come again. I got on my hands and knees, swinging my ass around, my head toward the door, putting my cheek down on the mattress so my bottom stuck up way in the air.

“Jesus, you’re fucking hot.” Christian climbed up behind me, kneeling between my legs.

“Tease it,” I told him, sliding my hand underneath, reaching for his cock. He moaned when I grabbed it in my fist, squeezing the head. “Rub it all over my pussy.”

He did as I asked, sliding the head up and down, hesitating at the entrance, like it took all his willpower not to shove it in, but then he slipped it back down again, teasing my clit. I rolled my hips, moaning when the head of his dick touched me there, that soft, spongy tip sliding up and down in my wetness.

“Feel good?” he asked, running his other hand over my ass, my thighs, reaching beneath to feel my tits.

“Hell yes.” I moaned when he rubbed my nipples through my bra. “Ohhhh yeah. Now put it in. Do you want to fuck me, Chris?”

“Hell yes,” he agreed, bracing himself, slowly sliding his cock between my lips. I shifted my hips for him, changing the angle, letting it slide in easier, deeper. He moaned when he bottomed out in me and I felt him shudder slightly.

“You’re gonna make me come with that big, gorgeous cock of yours,” I whispered, keeping my hand underneath to stroke his balls. They were already tight. I wondered how close he was to shooting. “I don’t want you to come until I do. I’ll tell you when.”

“Yes ma’am.” He sounded like he was smiling, but he groaned when I squeezed both his cock with the sweet snap of my pussy and his balls in my hand-not hard, just enough to let him know I meant it.

“Fuck me, Chris,” I whispered, starting to roll my hips, urging him to move. I think he was scared to at first. Probably too afraid to come. “Come on, you can do it. I want you to make me come.”

“Help me out,” he murmured, reaching under and guiding my hand to my clit.

“Will do.” I rubbed it in circles the way I liked it, feeling the thick length of his cock sliding in and then slowly pulling out. That wasn’t going to be enough, but I let it slide-literally-working myself up closer before I insisted on being really fucked.

“Feel good?” he asked again, voice strained, breath coming a little too fast.

“Mmmm.” I agreed, squeezing myself around his length, hearing him gasp. I remembered how long Doc had fucked Dani and Mrs. B. My God, how long had it been? I don’t know how long they’d been at it when I had first crawled down the hall, but it had to be at least fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe even half an hour after I started watching. I’d been sitting in that position so long before I made myself come, my thighs and calves were numb.

Doc would know how to fuck me. Nice and long and hard.

Just thinking about his cock inside me made me moan. Which made Christian tense up and slow down. Goddamnit. So frustrating. I was tempted to make him come fast, right now, and then get him hard again, but who wanted to go through all that work? Besides, he’d want to talk afterward, and I didn’t want to make small talk.

Instead, I rubbed myself faster, fantasizing about Doc and his thick length pounding me from behind. God, I wanted him. I thought about feeling him tonight on the dance floor, his erection pressing against my ass. I could tell he wanted me too. I didn’t know about Mrs. B-she was harder to read, more standoffish. But Doc? If there was one thing I knew, it was when a man wanted to fuck me.

“Oh Doc,” I whispered, biting my lip.

“Hmm?” Christian was clearly concentrating hard on not coming.

“Ohhh fuck,” I corrected myself. “Ohhh fuck. Please. Do it. Please fuck me. Pound me. Do it hard. Do it!”

He groaned and gave in, digging his fingers into my hips and ass, driving in deep. Finally, finally! He pounded me hard, our bodies slapping together, the sound of it filling the room, and I furiously rubbed my clit, right on the verge of coming. So close. So very close.

“Ahhhh I’m gonna come!” Christian warned, his voice strangled.

If he hadn’t distracted me, I wouldn’t have heard it. I was concentrating so hard on getting myself off, imagining Doc fucking me from behind. But the sound of Christian’s voice jerked me out of the fantasy and I did hear it. I was sure I heard it.

A low groan, a grunt. And it didn’t come from Christian.

I squinted in the darkness, seeing my door open, just a little bit. The light from hallway, a night light, showed through. And there was a shadow on the wall. A very man-like shadow.

Doc was watching us. Listening to us. And jerking off. I was sure of it. He was coming right that very second, his cum spilling over his closed fist. I didn’t know how I knew, I didn’t even care if it was real or true, just picturing it set me off.

“Ohhhh fuck yes! I’m gonna come all over your cock! Oh make me come! Make me commmme!”

I was coming so hard I couldn’t breathe. My pussy snapped around Christian’s erupting cock, milking it, his fingers digging in so hard they would leave bruises but I didn’t care. I imagined Doc’s hands, Doc’s cock taking me there, and I was in heaven. My moans slowly ebbed to soft cries, but my pussy was still going off like fireworks, sending electric shocks all through my system.

“Are you okay?” Christian asked, sitting slowly back, his cock sliding out.

“Yeah,” I gasped, blinking in the dimness, still trying to see. Was that shadow really there? Had Doc been watching us? I wanted to believe it. I wanted to think he’d been standing outside the door, Mrs. B downstairs on the couch watching Letterman while he snuck upstairs, his curiosity too piqued not to pursue it. I wanted to believe he’d taken out his cock and stroked it while he watched and listened to me having sex with Christian. That he was thinking of me-wishing it was my pussy he was pounding instead of his fist.

Then the light from the hallway disappeared. Someone pulled my door, and it closed with a little “snick.”

And I knew.