Crazy About the Baumgartners

Chapter Seven

I don’t know why I was surprised when we ran into Maureen Holmes at Dairy Queen. They vacationed in Key West every year around Christmas. What should have surprised me was the fact that it had taken so long for the Baumgartners to run into her the first time. Still, when we ended up in line together, it was more than a little awkward, for so many reasons, not the least of which was the fact she’d fired me, and the Baumgartners had turned right around and hired me.

And, of course, there was also the fact that now I knew what Maureen Holmes looked like without her clothes on.

Awkward.

Especially since Doc and Mrs. B and the baby stayed in the car while I took Janie and Henry up to the window to get ice cream. I decided to just pretend I didn’t see them, but that didn’t work for long because Janie recognized Rebecca Holmes and struck up a conversation with her, and Henry then started talking to Rebecca’s brother, Isaac, and Mrs. Holmes had to notice me then. It took her a minute. Not to place me, I don’t think-she recognized me when she looked at me-but to make some sort of sense of why I was paying for the Baumgarter kids’ ice cream. Thankfully, the Baumgartners saw what was going on and got out of the car, bringing the baby with them.

“Maureen!” Mrs. B smiled brightly, Holly on her hip as she approached. “How are you?”

“Hello.” Maureen gave her a smile back, although it wasn’t quite as bright. “I assume you’re at the time-share?”

Doc hung back, watching, not saying anything. He just nodded to Mrs. Holmes and half-smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. The kids were already gathered in a little group, the girls talking about boys, and the boys talking about sports. Janie and Henry loved Key West, but the older they got, the less they got along, and they really missing having friends around. And I missed it for them, because I had to break up and redirect the constant bickering or we’d all go insane.

“Yes, same old place.” Mrs. B laughed, bouncing the baby. The sun was in Holly’s eyes-she must have taken her hat off in the car-and she was fussy. “Are you, James and the kids here for long?”

“Just a few weeks.” Maureen tucked her short hair behind her ear, glancing over at the kids. They’d gravitated to one of the picnic tables, girls on one side, boys on the other, chatting between licks of ice cream. “You know, our church does a vacation kids camp here every year.”

“Oh that’s right.” Mrs. B used her hand to shade the baby’s eyes, but Holly was now fussy and didn’t want to be soothed.

“Here, I’ll take her, so you can talk.” I held my arms out for the baby and Mrs. B handed her over.

“So, Gretchen is working for you now?” Maureen Holmes gave me a cool glance as I carried the baby, putting her up over my shoulder-a position she loved, because she could see everything-as I walked toward the picnic tables to join the kids.

“What does a nosey pepper do?” Henry asked.

The kids all looked at him, then at each other, their ice cream cones in various states of melting in the hot, Florida sun.

“Gets jalapeno business!” Henry exclaimed and everyone cracked up.

I smiled, rolling my eyes, glancing back at the Baumgartners and Mrs. Holmes. I couldn’t help looking at her differently since I’d now seen her naked. Granted, those photos had been taken years ago, but still. I couldn’t believe that girl and this woman were the same person. The Mrs. Holmes I knew thought sex was exclusively for procreation and that anything else was a sin. I think their religious ideas mostly came from her husband, who seemed even more into it than Mrs. Holmes. At least she slipped up once in a while and took the Lord’s name in vain or let profanity slip, but I’d never even heard James Holmes say “goshdarn” let alone “goddamn.”

I couldn’t imagine restricting myself to the level that the Holmes’ had. Not only could they not have sex unless they were making babies-and Mrs. Holmes couldn’t have any more kids, had had a hysterectomy due to a cancer scare years ago-I couldn’t figure out what they said to each other when they were having sex? How did you fuck without saying, “Oh God!” at least once? I don’t know, maybe it was okay to say it in the middle of sex, if you were praising Him? I didn’t think the Holmes’ even had sex anymore, since Mrs. Holmes’ operation. I’d never heard them, in the entire time I’d lived with them.

Mostly, I felt sorry for the kids. Isaac and Rebecca were spoiled rotten brats, but it wasn’t their fault. They had to live with Maureen and James Holmes. I thought they would have been better off adopted out somewhere rather than have to live under that kind of repression. They were going to grow up to either be just like their parents and raise repressed kids just like them, or they were going to go absolutely wild once they got out of the house. I was betting in the latter. In fact, I once told Ronnie I thought Becca Holmes would end up pregnant before she was out of her teens. Probably sooner rather than later.

“I’ll ask my mom if we can go!” Janie said excitedly, already hopping up off the picnic table. I hadn’t been paying attention to what they were talking about, but I put a hand on her shoulder, sitting her back down.

“Ask your mom what?”

“Becca said there’s a huge fair, today and tomorrow! They have face painting and a bouncy house and rides and everything!”

I glanced up to see the “adults” were still talking, but they were moving closer to us, walking toward the picnic table.

“Can we go, Gretchen?” Henry asked. “Please? Pretty please? Ask Mom for us! She’ll listen to you.”

“I’m not sure if you really want to go to this fair,” I said, frowning.

I knew exactly what they were talking about. The Holmes’ church-which wasn’t really a church at all, more of an offshoot of a regular church that had gone all cult-sponsored a trip every year to Key West for the kids. There was a week-long camp where they played games, sang songs, swam with dolphins, memorized Bible verses, and prayed a lot, and in the end, they had a big celebration where they hired clowns and had fair rides and all sorts of things kids love.

The kids earned “points” all week long to “spend” at this fair. One of the ways to get the most points was to bring non-religious friends with you to camp, or even to the fair at the end. They believed that teaching children their beliefs from a very young age was the best way to convert them to the “ways of Christ.” I’d heard it enough when I lived with the Holmes’-had pretended to be “saved” myself, so I wouldn’t have to listen to Mrs. Holmes proselytizing all the time. They’d only hired me because they’d known my aunt and thought I was already part of their religion. My aunt had died-complications of Lupus-the year before I got the job, so they had no idea I was lying through my teeth.

“I know the kids would just love it!” Maureen smiled at Janie and Henry, standing behind her own daughter, petting her dark head. “I can have them back tomorrow.”

“We can go?” Janie was bouncing in her seat.

“Please, Mom!” Henry was already begging. “Please! Please!”

Mrs. B looked at Doc. He shrugged, an “it’s up to you” sort of gesture.

“I guess I don’t see why not…” Mrs. B hesitated, glancing at me.

I shrugged too.

It wouldn’t kill Janie and Henry to be around the Holmes’ for a day or two. You didn’t get converted in a day. And if I knew those two, they’d come home with all sorts of rancor at the idea of anyone trying to convince them to do or believe anything. I didn’t like Maureen Holmes, and she didn’t like me-not anymore, not since she’d found condoms in my purse and fired me for assuming I was having premarital sex, which I was, but that wasn’t the point-but I didn’t think she was evil or anything. Just sadly misguided and slightly delusional, like most fundamentally religious folks.

“Great, I can pick them up in an hour.” Maureen glanced at her watch. “Same old place?”

“Yep, same old place.” Carrie smiled. “It was good to see you, Maureen.”

The kids couldn’t sit still the entire ride home. They couldn’t talk about anything but the fair and playing with the Holmes’ kids. I helped Mrs. B pack an overnight bag for each of them.

“Gretchen, are you okay with them going?” she asked as we carried the bags downstairs, putting them on the kitchen table.

The kids were out back, working on their sand village. They build one every year, and it got more and more elaborate. This year, there was a castle with a moat.

“I know they didn’t treat you very well.” She went to the refrigerator to get a wine cooler. “But she is an old friend.”

“It’s fine, Mrs. B.”

“Will you please start calling me Carrie?” She brought two wine coolers over to the table, handing me one.

“Sorry,” I apologize for forgetting-again-about her request. “Um, I shouldn’t be drinking this, should I?”

“One wine cooler won’t hurt you.” She winked, clinking her glass with mine. “We’ll be without kids for the night. Well, almost. And Holly’s finally started sleeping through.”

I took a swig from the bottle, loving the fruity burn down my throat.

“We were really close once, you know,” she told me.

I nodded. I knew just how close they’d been.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She was engaged to James at the time. The man she’s married to now. For a while, I thought they might break up. That she might… I don’t know, break free of that life?”

“Yeah.” I remembered when my aunt had joined the church, how gradual the slide was into crazy, until before you knew it, the person you once knew didn’t exist anymore.

“I don’t mean to be judgmental.” Mrs. B drank her wine cooler, looking out the back sliding door at the water. “If she was happy, I’d think it was wonderful for her. I have nothing against religion or spirituality. But… does she look happy to you?”

“Oh, I know she isn’t.” I shook my head. “She’s a very angry, bitter person.”

“That just makes me sad.” Mrs. B sighed. “Do you think they’ll be okay with her?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine.” I waved her concern away. “There will be some sort of pressure to convert, there always is. At every gathering, there’s a preacher who does a call up to the pulpit for the unsaved to accept Jesus into their hearts and all that. But Janie and Henry are old enough to know their own minds. And thankfully, they’ve had your influence. They’ll be fine. And they’ll have a blast at the fair. It is a lot of fun.”

“It broke my heart, the way they treated you.” Mrs. B frowned. “I can’t even imagine, firing a girl in her twenties for suspecting she was sexually active? What did they think, you were going to be a nun?”

“No premarital sex allowed.” I tipped my wine cooler up, taking another drink. “No non-procreational sex actually.”

“Really?” She hesitated, licking the top edge of her wine cooler bottle, her tongue a soft, velvet pink. The sight of it made my ass clench. If there was a God, I was going to hell for what I was thinking about her.

“I don’t think they have sex at all anymore.”

She gaped at me. “I can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t either.” I snorted. “You know, Mrs. B…”

She raised her eyebrows, tipping her bottle at me, and I remembered.

“Carrie…” I corrected myself. “You and Doc have been so good to me. I can’t even thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

“You don’t have to thank us, Gretchen.” She reached over, touching my hand, taking it in hers. “The kids love you. We love you. You’re part of our family, you know.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. I love you guys too.” My God, if she only knew how much. “It just… it really hit home, after seeing her again. I could still be there, in that house, living with that. It wasn’t easy.”

“I know, you haven’t had it easy.” Mrs. B squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t feel sorry for myself.” I shrugged. “I count my blessings, and I’m glad I’m here with you. I just want you to know that I won’t… I won’t do anything to jeopardize this. It’s important to me. With the Holmes’ it was just a job. This is more than just a job to me.”

“Gretchen, you’re more than just a nanny to us,” she assured me, leaning closer. Her cleavage was showing, her blouse undone three delicious buttons. “And there will be a time, soon, when we can be… more than just friends. More than just family.”

I felt her knee touch mine under the table and shivered. We both knew what she meant.

“I hope so.” I swallowed, daring to say it. Daring to say her name and mean it. “I love you, Carrie.”

“Oh sweetheart, I love you too.” She smiled, lifting my hand and kissing my palm, closing it around her kiss. “More than you know.”

Mrs. Holmes picked up the kids, as promised, about an hour later. They were literally bouncing off the walls by that time. Henry was actually careening like a pinball around the house and he bolted for the door when he heard the knock.

“I didn’t feed them,” Mrs. B said, handing her the overnight bags. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Oh they’ll get plenty,” Maureen assured her. “Corn dogs and elephant ears and all that deep fried awful fair food. They’re not allergic to anything, are they?”

I saw her new nanny, corralling Rebecca and Isaac as they ran around in the yard at the front of the house. She was very plain, brown hair pulled back in ponytail, dark eyes, wearing a long sleeved blouse and long cotton skirt, even in this heat.

“Nope, no allergies,” Mrs. B said. “Go crazy. Do we need to send them with any money?”

“Oh no, guests are free! They’re all set. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Maureen started down the stairs, and then turned back. “And are you sure you don’t want me to take that sweet little baby off your hands? I’m sure you could use the break!”

“No, that’s okay,” Mrs. B smiled. “But thanks for the offer.”

“All right, see you tomorrow.” Maureen waggled her fingers as she made her way down the steps. She was dressed casual, for the fair, in khaki shorts and a white button-down blouse, but she still looked professional, as always.

Mrs. B closed the door behind them, leaning against it meeting my eyes. I was standing in the entryway to the kitchen and she reached for my hand.

“Come with me,” she said.

“Where are we going?” I asked as she pulled me through the kitchen, into the living room and unlocked the back sliding door.

“Doc’s upstairs with the baby.” Mrs. B unbuttoned her blouse, her gaze sweeping me as we stood in the hot sand. “We’re going swimming.”

I watched, stunned, as she took off her blouse, standing there in her bra and shorts. Then, the bra came off too. Her heavy breasts swayed as she unbuttoned her shorts.

“Go on.” She nodded at me. “Take yours off too.”

I pulled off my t-shirt, watching her slide her shorts and panties off together, down those long, tanned thighs, staring at the bare slit between them.

“Come on!” She was already running toward the water, her round ass jiggling, tits bouncing-she was like a reverse Venus, running back into the foamy surf instead of being born out of it.

I stripped down to nothing-I didn’t even hesitate-leaving my clothes with hers in the sand. She was already in up to mid-thigh, but she waited for me. Her eyes brightened as I approached, her gaze moving down to my breasts, then further, down to my pussy.

“Doc told me about that sweet little tuft of hair.” She gave a happy sigh. “But he didn’t do it justice. You are stunning, Gretchen.”

“So are you.”

“Kids are gone, let’s go skinny dipping.”

She grinned and took my hand, pulling me in to the warm surf. We rolled through the waves together, hand in hand, until we got further out. She was like a sleek, brown seal diving into the water and coming up, blond hair slicked back, eyes dark and full of hunger. I knew what was happening, and part of me said we shouldn’t, but when she pulled me into her arms and kissed me for the first time, I was lost. I dissolved, her mouth so soft, so sweet, it was almost painful. My heart couldn’t take it. I breathed in the scent of sand and salt and oil as our tongues meshed, her arms going around me, hands roaming over my back, in my hair. The heat of her pussy against mine, even in the water, was incredible.

“Mrs. B… Carrie… we shouldn’t…” I gasped when we parted. “I heard what you said to Doc, about Holly. I don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.”

“I think we can all keep a secret.” She nuzzled my neck. “It’s just for a little while. Maybe a year, until the adoption is final. And we’ll always have to be discreet, of course…”

“Did you talk to Doc about this?” I pulled back to look at her.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Now come here.”

She slipped a hand behind my head, pulling my lips to hers, our mouths slanting, tongues hot and probing. We kissed each other until I could barely stand it, until my pussy throbbed and my nipples tingled and then she was pulling me out of the water, leading me back ashore. She spread a blanket in the sand and kissed me down onto it, pulling me close so we were belly to belly. The sun was high and hot but the breeze was cool on our water-beaded skin. Our breasts touched, nipples kissing, legs entwined.

“Oh God, Gretchen, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Her lips traced the line of my collarbone and the hand at my waist slipped up over my ribs to cup my breast, her thumb grazing my hard nipple, making me moan.

“Me too,” I whispered, unable to resist, dipping my head low to bury my face in her breasts.

I pressed them together with my hands, licking the water off her skin, tasting her nipples, dark, fat coins, the skin around them dimpled. Carrie bit her lip, head thrown back, hand in my wet hair, keeping me stuck fast, but I didn’t care. I could have suffocated and drowned in her cleavage and I would have died happy. My pussy beat a rhythm between my legs, faster and faster, matching the thud of my heart.

“Give me that beautiful pussy,” she urged, cupping her hand over my mound, making me moan and rock against her. “Let me taste you.”

I let her roll me to my back, so hot for her I could barely stand it. I spread my thighs, watching her tongue snake up one, then the other, as she settled herself on the blanket between my legs. She rubbed her nose against the little bit of blond hair I’d left at the top of my cleft, breathing me in. My pussy was still beaded with water and her mouth was on fire when it covered my clit.

“Oh God, Mrs…” I stopped when her head came up and I laughed. “Sorry, Carrie… I have to get used to… Oh! Oh! Yes!”

Her tongue lapped my pussy, up and down, her soft moans making me shiver as she grabbed my hips in her hands, red painted nails digging into my ass. She held me tight, mouth secured over my pussy, eyes never leaving mine. The sound of the waves, a sweet, steady rhythm, accompanied the hot sound of her fingers, slowly sliding in and out of my wetness, moving faster, faster, as I got closer to orgasm.

“You’re going to make me come,” I whimpered, my hands in her wet hair, my clit pulsing against the velvet press of her tongue. “Oh please make me come.”

“Mmmm!” She licked me even faster, tongue like a little whirlwind, a pleasure tornado, and I cried out, my hips rising up to meet her.

“Oh now!” I cried out, an earthquake rocking me, shaking my limbs, quaking me to my core. I came and came, twisting and writhing on the blanket in the sand.

“Oh sweetheart.” Carrie kissed my thighs, my vulva, making me whimper and cover my mound with my hand. “More?”

She nudged my hand aside with her nose, licking up and down my now sopping slit.

“I want you.” I reached for her and she came to me, kissing me fully on the mouth, letting me taste myself on her tongue. I sucked at it, eager for more. I loved the taste of my own pussy, but I wanted to taste her.

“Sit on my face,” I urged. “Please.”

She smiled against my lips, slowly sitting up on me, straddling first my crotch, rubbing her mound against mine, our eyes locked. Then she worked her way up, over my belly, kneeling up until she was poised over my face, giving me a full view of her, heavy breasts and completely shaved pussy. She was all long, tawny limbs, velvet skin, with a soft, pink center. I parted her lips with my fingers, my mouth watering at the sight of her beautiful pussy, like spongy, wet coral.

“Ohhhhh Gretchen!” She moaned when I ran a finger up and down her slit.

I could smell her musk, feel the heat of her pussy on my face, her body radiating like a furnace. I took her full hips in my hands, slowly pulling her toward me, and she followed, lowering her pussy onto my face. The taste and smell of her was heady, my tongue tracing the hot maze of her cunt, searching for her clit. She cried out when I found it and I watched her cup those gorgeous, weighty breasts in her hands, pulling and twisting her nipples.

“Fuck me,” she urged, rocking her hips. “Put your fingers in.”

I stroked her slit, sweetly slick and yielding. She ground her hips onto my fingers, rubbing her pussy against my face in easy circles, eyes half closed, mouth half open, face awash with pleasure. Everything about her was carnal and my own pussy ached, wanting more and more of her. I couldn’t get enough. I fingered her, following the rhythm of her hips, the rock and roll of her body, stroking in and out, faster, faster, listening to the surge of her breath, the rise of her moans.

“Oh faster, baby,” she begged, tugging her nipples, shimmying back and forth against my tongue. “Lick it faster! I’m gonna come! All over your face! Ohhhhh!”

Her climax was magnificent. I grabbed her hips and held her to me as Carrie threw her head back and howled, like a wolf at the moon, only her orb was the sun high above. She was a bronze goddess coming all over my face, drowning me in ambrosia and I fastened my mouth to her and sucked it out like the sweetest syrup. She was sticky and hot and I swallowed her, my tongue searching for more.

“Oh God.” She panted, hands moving slowly down her ribs to her hips, covering my hands with hers. “That was fucking amazing.”

“More?” I nuzzled her slit with my nose, making her gasp and shift back, looking down and meeting my eyes.

“You want more?” She ran a thumb over my juiced-up lips.

“Yes!” I nodded, eager.

“My husband has a beautiful cock.” She smiled. “And he’s very, very good with it.”

“Don’t tease me.” I moaned, licking at her thumb, her fingers moving over my lips.

“I’m not.” Her gaze shifted from me to the house and back again. “Look.”

I squinted, turning my head, looking back. At first I couldn’t see anything because of the sun’s glare on the sliding door, but then I caught a glimpse of movement. Doc was standing there, completely nude, holding his hard dick in his hand. He was watching us, slowly pumping his gorgeous cock.

“Doc…” I whispered.

He opened the sliding door, coming out and closing it behind him. I stared up, feeling my belly burn at the sight of him, at the way he looked down at me, at his wife.

“Hey, handsome.” Mrs. B licked her lips. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Immensely.” His cock was fisted in his hand. “Can’t you tell?”

“Baby sleeping?” she asked.

“We’re all alone.” He put the baby monitor on the table. “Ready for some company?”

“Yes!” I cried, so enthusiastically they both laughed.