Baumgartner Shorts (erotic erotica menage threesome) (The Baumgartners) (4 page)

“Show me.”

She was remembering, the sound of him, the way he moaned and bucked and fisted himself into a frenzy. The way she’d rubbed her little clit raw while she watched.
Naughty girl.
Yes, she was.

“Just like this.” Carrie stood, her breathing shallow already, and lifted the end of his t-shirt up over her thighs, revealing the soft mound beneath. Her fingers slipped between her oh-so-very swollen pussy lips, looking at his face as she made circles against her clit, just as she had that night.

At first he just watched, his eyes glazed, mouth slightly open. Then his hand moved slowly down to touch himself through his boxers, rubbing there. She could see the outline of his cock and it made her touch herself even faster.

When he slipped his hand under the elastic band of his boxers to grab himself, she moaned, biting her lower lip. “Please…” she whispered. “Can I see?”

He smiled and nodded. “Come closer.”

She did as she was told, moving so her thighs touched the edge of the bed, her gaze falling between his legs as he slid his boxers down.

“Oh god.” His cock was just as incredible as she’d remembered. “It’s so beautiful.”

He chuckled and that made her blush, but she was too far gone now to care.

“Can I touch you?” She was already reaching her hand out and he let her, groaning softly as she wrapped her small hand around the hot, swollen shaft.

“Can I?” He nudged her wet fingers aside, replacing them with his own. She gasped at the sensation, his hand probing between her legs. She sighed softly when his thumb strummed against her clit, his fingers pressing deep inside of her.

Her hand moved on him, squeezing at first, then tugging, rubbing his pre-cum onto the tip of his cock with her thumb. Her breathing matched his, her hips rocking, eyes half-closed.

“I want to see you.” His fingers curled inside of her, as if drawing her closer. “All of you.”

She pulled his t-shirt off her head with one hand, letting him have what he wanted. His cock swelled in her fist as he looked at her, chest heaving, breasts swaying as she stroked him faster, faster, hips rolling against the plunge of his hand between her legs.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned and she bit her lip, squeezing him in response. The sound and feel of him, his breath coming so fast as she moved her hand over his cock, the shift and plunge of his hand between her thighs, was all too much.

“Oh god, girl,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back, his hips driving up hard. “Wait…wait…”

She couldn’t. Not even if she tried. His fingers buried inside of her were bringing her closer, faster, than she’d ever been. Her pussy clamped down on his hand, her clit throbbing under his thumb, and her orgasm rolled through her like a seismic event, shaking them both.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned as her eyes closed and her cunt spasmed. “I’m gonna come for you, Carrie!”

Her name in his mouth! She pressed her hand between her legs, forcing his thumb hard against her clit, rubbing herself furiously.

“Gonna come!” he announced again, grunting, groaning. “Ohhhh fuck!” His hips thundered up to meet her strokes, spilling heat and wetness over the friction of her fist. She felt her knees wanting to buckle because she was coming, too, again, again, but she held on, her breath coming too fast, her hand squeezing the length of his cock as she aimed him and he splattered his bare belly with even more cum. Carrie shuddered with her climax, cupping his hand against her mound, both of their fingers buried in her sopping wetness.

When his eyes opened, he half-smiled and gasped out, “You are definitely no Ice Queen.”

Carrie stood fully then, ears still ringing and body flushed from orgasm, grabbing blindly for her clothes.

“Hey,” he protested, half-sitting as she pulled on her shorts, her shirt, grabbing her bra—her panties were nowhere to be found. “Where are you going? What—”

But she didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, pulling open the door and fleeing down the hallway.

* * * *

“I know, James.” Maureen stretched out on her bed, her arm thrown over her eyes, phone crooked next to her ear, while Carrie sat on her own bed, studying for her last final of the year. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone.”

Carrie flipped pages in her macroeconomics book, not really able to concentrate on interest rates in relation to the current state of unemployment. She knew James was preaching. She’d been roommates with Maureen long enough to have heard a sermon or two herself.

“Yes, James.” Maureen rolled over, the phone cord wrapping around her body. “Yes…I know…yes, ‘the good seed are the children of the kingdom…’”

Carrie almost laughed when Maureen covered the receiver with one hand and buried her face in her pillow to let out a scream. Then she put the phone back to her ear with a resigned sigh.

“No, Carrie didn’t make me.” Maureen rolled her eyes. “She is not a bad seed, James. Don’t blame her. It was my fault.”

Ah, of course
, Carrie thought, flipping another page in her economic book so fiercely it tore.
I’m the one to blame—the sinner, the atheist, the one who renounced God and led his poor little lamb astray
.

It was true she didn’t have anything to do with church anymore—being fostered in what couldn’t have been called anything else but a “cult” had swayed her far away from any formal study of religion. But that didn’t mean she was bad, or wrong, or even that she wasn’t what she thought of as “spiritual.”

Not that James would care about any of her explanations or excuses anyway. She was a convenient scapegoat.

“I promise I’ll be a good girl in Key West,” Maureen assured him. “And you’ll be there, remember? You’ve got that retreat…”

Carrie closed her book and tossed it onto the floor. She’d been looking forward to going to Key West with Maureen all year, and now James had sprung some sort of religious retreat on them—he was going to Key West with them and already threatening to spoil their fun.

“Sorry, sweetie, the other line is ringing, and Carrie’s waiting for an important call…”

Carrie gave her a sharp look and Maureen stuck her tongue out. Steve—Doc—had called three times that day already. Carrie had been ignoring his calls all week.

“I’ll talk to you later. Love you too!” Maureen made kissing noises into the phone before clicking over. “Hello?”

Carrie knew who it was, just from the sly look on Maureen’s face. She waved her hands, warding off the phone, mouthing, “I’m not here!”

“Yep, she’s right here. Hang on.” Maureen held out the phone, grinning.

“Bitch,” Carrie whispered, grabbing the receiver and putting it to her flushed ear. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Damn his voice. It was like liquid velvet. “How’s my sexy little exhibitionist?”

She wasn’t even going to touch that. “Fine.”

“Good.” He sounded like he was smiling. “I thought maybe you might be avoiding me.”

“No,” she insisted, feeling her cheeks go crimson. “Just busy. Finals. You know.”

“Getting ready for Key West?”

She frowned into the phone. “Are you going?”

“I wasn’t,” he admitted. “My roommate kept trying to convince me to go, but I kept turning him down.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “So you’re not going?”

“Actually, I am,” he replied. Carrie thought she felt her heart stop for a moment. Maureen was flipping through an issue of
People
, but she knew her friend was listening to every word. “My parents have a time-share down there and turns out that week is free.”

“How convenient.”

“I thought so.” He laughed. “Maybe we can hang out?”

She looked away from Maureen’s gaze. “I’m sure I’ll be busy.”

He was quiet for a moment and she waited, twisting the phone cord around her finger.

“Carrie, I like you.” The words made her bones melt and she sank to the floor, curling up against her bed with the phone crooked against her ear. “And I’m pretty damned sure you like me.”

She swallowed, her back to Maureen now, but feeling her gaze. “Things are complicated.”

“We can make them simple,” he suggested.

Carrie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Another pause. Then he said, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

That made her smile. She’d been thinking about him, too. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. “What have you been thinking?”

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“My hands?”

“Yeah, your hands…and how good they felt wrapped around my hard cock.”

“Ohh,” she breathed, her body temperature instantly rising two degrees at least.

“And your mouth,” he added. “And your sweet little pussy.”

“Hmm.” That was all the sound she dared to make. She was remembering, too, the pulse of him, the dark look of lust in his eyes.

“I haven’t just been thinking, to tell you the truth,” he admitted.

“No?”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve had to take a few cold showers in the middle of the night…”

She blinked at the phone, knowing just what he was talking about. “Really?”

“I have to admit…” His voice dipped lower, into an even sexier range, if that was humanly possible. “I was secretly hoping maybe you’d show up…”

“Steven…” She gulped.

“Call me Doc,” he said.

“Everybody does,” she finished with him, smiling.

“And of course, now that you’ve deigned to talk to me, I’m sure I’ll have to make another visit to the showers tonight.”

“Is that so?” She knew an invitation when she heard one.

“Probably around three. Just F.Y.I.”

“St—Doc…listen…”

He made it official. “Just in case you wanted to join me.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she said slowly, sounding sad, and she was. But did she really want to get involved? Things were, as she’d said, complicated. Did she want to complicate life even more?

He sighed. “Does this mean the Ice Queen has returned to her throne?”

Carrie froze and she could almost hear his grin, see the challenging look in his eyes. “I’ll be there,” she snapped and hung up.

* * * *

Carrie’d had to explain away her “I’ll be there” comment to Maureen. “I’ll be in Key West,” she said to her friend. “That’s what I meant.” Of course, Maureen was thrilled that Doc would be coming along, at the prospect of double dates and Carrie not feeling like a third wheel when James was around.

Carrie didn’t know how she felt about it.

She still didn’t know as her alarm woke her at two-fifty-five a.m. and she reached for it before it woke Maureen. Her friend was breathing deeply, still asleep.

What am I doing?
Carrie thought, pulling on her robe and sliding out of her room, closing the door quietly behind her. The dorm was silent, eerily so. Bars closed at two, so even those breaking the midnight curfew were probably sleeping it off in their beds.

She padded down the hall and slipped down the stairwell. It was only when she neared the men’s bathroom that she hesitated, her eyes still adjusting to the overhead fluorescents, her brain fuzzy from sleep.

Was he there? Cock throbbing and hard in his hand, thinking about her…? She was already soaking wet—had been, since he first suggested this clandestine meeting.

She crept into the bathroom, barely breathing, trying to listen. Nothing. Just one of the sinks dripping water, a tinny “plink, plink” sound. She dared to venture a little further, glancing behind her just in case—if some guy decided to come in to take a drunk piss, she was going to take off running.

“Oh yeah, Carrie, your little pussy is so tight!”

The sound of her name in his throat made her freeze—he was here. Same shower stall. She was sure, although she couldn’t see him—yet—that his cock was hard in his hand, and this time she knew exactly who he was imagining. It was both exciting and embarrassing, to know he was picturing her.

“Come on, baby, please. I want you so bad.”

Oh god.

It was as if her cunt had a mind of its own, propelling her forward. She inched toward the closed brown curtain where she now heard the distinct sound of his jerking off, his hand shuttling up and down his stiff length.

“Ohhhhhhhh fuck,” he groaned, sounding pained, and she held her breath as she drew the curtain quietly aside, wanting to see him, needing to, before he knew she was there.

He was laid out on the bench, still now, his fist wrapped tightly around the tip of his dick, squeezing hard. His lower lip was drawn between his teeth, arm thrown over his eyes. Slowly, he released the vice-grip he had on his cock, letting out a shaky breath. The tip was wet with pre-cum and she had a sudden urge to lick it off.

“That’s it, baby,” he urged, whispering, his hips beginning to thrust up into his hand. “Squeeze my dick with that hot little cunt.”

She bit her lip, moving in to get a closer look, her pussy more than sopping now. If she wasn’t wearing panties, her juices would be dripping down her thighs. As it was, the crotch was soaked—she knew, not only because her pussy felt swollen, but because she was cupping her mound through her panties, idly rubbing herself.