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A Baumgartner Reunion Ch. 01

By: Selena_Kitt



So many have asked for a continuation of the Baumgartner series, and I never thought I'd go there, but something about them kept coming back to me... so here it is. Perhaps not quite as you imagined, but this is what interested me about them... so fasten your seatbelts and lets go for a ride...

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"Sounds to me like you just want to have your cake and eat it, too." I listened for the sound of Beth waking up in the room next door as TJ cupped my mound over the sheet. The girl had some sort of extrasensory "Mommy and Daddy are having sex" antenna, and inevitably woke up for a glass of water or to go to the bathroom at the most inopportune times. 

TJ's hand rocked the way he knew I loved, making me squirm. "Actually, I think it's eat your cake and have it, too." I rolled my eyes and snorted in the dark but shifted my hips toward him anyway. "Well, think about it. You can have your cake and eat it, but you can't eat your cake and still have it."

"Alright, enough with the metaphor." I reached for his cock and found it already hard, and that made me smile—although I wasn't sure, suddenly, if it was the feel of my warming pussy under his hand that had effected him, or the conversation we'd been having about adding other people to our relationship. The latter made me suddenly want to cry.

TJ sighed, pulling the sheet aside. "Variety... it's the spice of life."

"Great, my marriage is now being reduced to a cliché." I slid my mouth down his belly, breathing warmth over the head of his cock and nibbling a little at the head, making him jump.

"I'm not talking about reducing it..." He groaned when my tongue slipped through the already wet slit at the tip. "I'm talking about expanding it." 

"To include another woman?" I went back to nibbling, my teeth raking down his shaft.

"Other people, yes." His hand lost itself in the dark mass of my hair, pulling me back a little. 

I sighed. "I don't want to see other people."

"Come on, Ronnie..." His hand massaged my scalp, his eyes tender but questioning. "We've been married for almost seven years. You can't tell me you've never been attracted to anyone else?"

I blinked, trying not to think about the way Hector at work smiled and winked whenever I passed his classroom, how he often showed up in the tiny copy room the same time I did, brushing up against me from behind, his hand cupping the side of my hip, to get a ream of legal paper. So I felt a little twinge when he did, a warmth between my thighs, a tug in my belly. It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean— "Just because I'm attracted to someone doesn't mean I'm going to act on it."

TJ's eyes searched mine, lazily rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against my lower lip. "But why not?"

"Because we made a commitment." I raked my teeth lightly across the spongy tip and he jumped.

"Don't be so pedantic." He rolled me over, pressing his weight onto me, opening my legs. I acquiesced with a sigh, loving the feel of his hardness rubbing up and down between my slit, but hating his words. "Our commitment is what we say it is..." His lips murmured against the pulse in my throat and I let my fingers brush the fine hairs at the back of his neck, soft as a baby. "I'm not talking about not loving you. I'm talking about sex."

His words were supposed to reassure me, but I felt my throat constrict. "So basically, you're saying I'm not enough for you."

"No, baby." He rocked, slow and easy—god, he knew how I loved that, opening me, a slow split, a gentle friction, up and up. "You're more than enough..." 

More reassuring words—but why didn't I feel reassured? His mouth covered mine, the kiss deep and searching, his tongue slowly drawing me in, drawing me out, teasing me as he rubbed and rubbed his stiff heat between my thighs. It throbbed there, insistent, making me squirm. 

"God, you're so sweet..." His words were hot against my ear now, his teeth gently biting and tugging at the lobe. "I never want you to think you're not enough, you're so very much more than enough..." 

His cock found me with a shift of his hips, seeking entrance, and I gasped as he slid forward until he felt resistance, about halfway there. His breath caught and he gave a low moan which went through me like shiver, and still, he didn't stop talking, telling me... "There's no other woman like you. I want you and I want to share you, baby. I want the whole world to know how good you are, how sweet, how fucking hot..." He pulled back and plunged forward, so deep I clutched his shoulders, digging my nails in. TJ's eyes sought mine, dark and full of hunger. "How fucking mine you are." 

It was true. It had been true from the first time we were face to face like this, much sooner than I had ever planned or anticipated—the rain had soaked us to the skin, but we hardly noticed as we peeled each other's clothes off and ended up on his living room futon instead of the big, soft bed upstairs in his room. It wasn't the tender or gentle or sweet thing I'd imagined—although he was all those things at turns—instead it was mostly heat and friction between us, a desperate need for more, always more with him. I could never get enough.

"Baby, look at me." I didn't want to, but I couldn't refuse him. I met his eyes, feeling the aching throb of his cock somewhere deep inside. "I'm just asking you to think about it."

I nodded, hating myself for doing it but unable to stop. I clutched him to me, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. My words were whispered, close to his ear. "Do you have someone in mind?"

He chuckled, moving now, his hips making easy circles. "Actually, no."

For some reason, those words did reassure me and something in me let go, gave in, my body melting against his. "So this isn't about wanting to have an affair?"

"I love you, Ronnie." I felt that, in every movement, every moment, the way he slipped his arms under my shoulders, pulling me closer, wanting more. He did love me, he did want me—and I was so his. "I want to get old with you and raise our daughter with you... and maybe fill that sweet belly with some more babies." His words thrilled me, and I didn't want to think about whether or not he knew it, or how much. My belly trembled against his, slick already with our sweat. "I'm not going anywhere."

Still, I wasn't ready to give in completely. "You just want to be able to sleep with other people."

"Come here." He rolled onto his back, taking me with him, sitting me up. His eyes swept over me and I felt satisfied at the dark look in them as they moved over my breasts, my waist, down to where we were joined, rocking. I couldn't stop—it felt too good—my hips making faster and faster circles. "I just want us to experiment... shake things up..." He groaned when I squeezed him with my muscles, spreading my legs wide to take him all, belly and balls deep. 

"So you're bored?" I teased, leaning over him and arching my back, showing him my breasts but keeping my nipples just out of reach of his mouth. 

"Veronica Mayer!" He didn't let me tease him long—that was another thing about him I loved so much. He didn't let me get away with anything. He shoved me off him, making me gasp when he pressed me to the bed on my belly, grabbing my hips and pulling me up to my hands and knees. I was too wet to resist him now and his cock slid in, punishing me with its length, making me gasp and clutch the sheet. "You're impossible!"

"No, I'm just selfish." I whispered into the pillow, lifting my hips to feel him in me, deeper, more. "I want this all to myself..."

I was sure he wouldn't hear me, but TJ chuckled. "Don't you teach your kindergarteners to share well with others?"

I didn't respond—I couldn't. I was beyond the point of talking or even wanting to think. I slid my fingers through my swollen lips, searching past the dark, wet fur toward my clit. TJ sensed my urgency, his hips moving faster—short, hard strokes that matched the insistent rubbing at my clit, his thighs slapping into mine. I moaned when he grabbed me and pulled me deep into the saddle of his hips, sinking himself as far as he could go. 

"God, you know what I love!" He made me want to scream and I buried my face in the pillow, moaning low and loud, hoping Beth wouldn't hear us. 

"That's right, baby," he murmured, moving my hand out of the way with his, strumming my clit with his big fingers, back and forth, round and round. "I know everything you like." He pinched my clit gently between his thumb and forefinger, peeling the hood of skin back and squeezing, just the right amount of pressure, like a pulse, over and over and over...

"Oh fuck!" I could feel my orgasm hovering, teasing me, like a pregnant storm cloud waiting for just the right moment to let go with a torrent, a veritable flood. TJ didn't stop his tease, jerking my clit now as if it were a tiny little cock, his hips driving into me, pressing me forward on the bed. "Please, please, please!" 

"Just imagine it, Ronnie..." He pressed me further, forcing my knees to buckle under his weight. "I could teach her to do all the things you love..." 

I groaned into the pillow, shaking my head, trying not to imagine it but unable to stop the thoughts as his words flooded over me and his cock found some deep part of me, rubbing there again and again, as if my pussy were some magic lamp and he were searching for an elusive genie. 

"Can't you feel her under you, baby?" Relentless, on and on. "Her tongue buried in your pussy, her cunt spread open for your mouth..."

The image was hot—more than hot, it made me burn with a deeper heat than I'd ever known with TJ alone. I wanted more, but I didn't want to say it. I didn't have to, though, because he didn't stop. He kept rubbing and talking and coaxing and crooning, telling me about her pussy and her tongue and her soft, hot body under mine, until I was aching for it, feeling it building low in my belly as I thrashed under him on the bed. 

It had been years and years, but the memory came back like it was yesterday, the rich, lush feel of her body, the soft, smooth taste of her flesh. It was Mrs. Baumgartner I was imagining beneath me, with her smooth, tanned thighs, spreading them wide for my tongue. Oh my god, had we really—? I hadn't forgotten, not really, but I hadn't thought about it or spoken it of it since Gretchen and I had gone our separate ways. 

"Oh Mrs. B," I whispered, lost in the fantasy, TJ's cock driving it home with every thrust. I could almost taste her, thick and pungent on my tongue, hear her moaning as I licked her to orgasm after orgasm after... "Oh god, yes, baby, that's my girl, cum for me, come on, do it, do it, cum in my mouth!"

TJ groaned at my words, his fingers digging deep into my hips. "Oh fuck, Ronnie, oh my god, yesss!" 

I want to say it was the feel of him coming, that first, hot spurt of cum, that sent me over the edge—but it wasn't. It was remembering Mrs. B, the thick, hot lap of her tongue against my clit, and most of all, the feel and taste of her coming in my mouth, how she shuddered and dug her nails into my flesh and pressed her cunt against my face until I couldn't breathe, and I loved it, oh my god, I couldn't get enough of her...

"Oh, oh, yes, coming, oh please..." My voice turned small, young, and I lost myself in the memory and the sweet pulse of my orgasm, arching with it on the bed, again and again. Suddenly, I wasn't a twenty-nine year old kindergarten teacher, mother of a five year old, about to celebrate her seventh wedding anniversary—I was a young, naïve nineteen-year-old girl having her first experience with the wide open world of sexual pleasure.

I buried my face in pillow, panting and breathless, as TJ slipped out of me and slid off to the side. His belly was wet with sweat as he shifted his hips toward me. 

"Wow." His lips found my hairline, my temple, my ear. "That was something else."

I didn't trust myself to answer, but I turned my face toward his. I was afraid of what he might see in my eyes, but I wanted the reassurance I was seeking in his. He gave it to me, too, nothing but love there as his fingers played through my hair.

I knew he was waiting for me to say something, so finally, I did. "I have to admit... thinking about it is kind of hot."

He grinned. "And if just thinking about it is hot, just imagine..."

I flushed, both with the thought and with the memory. I had never told TJ about what happened with the Baumgartners. Gretchen and I had been over for a year when I met him, and I had chalked it all up to some college experimentation thing. I wasn't a lesbian, I was sure of that. Yes, okay, I'd been attracted to women over the years, but—

"Ronnie?" 

"Hm?" I turned onto my side and spooned up against him, pulling his arm across me, a protection, a barrier. I knew what he was going to ask, even before the words were out, and yet, somehow, they still surprised me.

"Who's Mrs. B?"

I froze, glad he couldn't see my face. Well, Lucy, looks like you've got some 'splainin' to do.

I cleared my throat, closed my eyes, my whole body on fire with the memories, and then I started to talk...

* * * * *

The headlights of my Intrepid reflected on the garage door and I turned them off, gathering up my purse and my bag with all my lesson plans. It was such a sweet moment of anticipation, the time between knowing I was home and going into the house where I knew TJ and Bethie would be waiting. Knowing the long holiday stretched out ahead of us made it even better, and if it weren't for the fact I'd stayed late to finish cleaning up the classroom and the fact I had a hamster in the backseat, it would be perfection.

I opened the side door and could smell TJ's spaghetti cooking. It just kept getting better and better! I swept in carrying the hamster cage, complete with hamster, and TJ stood up from the kitchen chair, his eyebrows raised as he moved instinctively to help. "Uh, what's this?"

I let him take the cage and he looked around for the best place to put it, deciding on the counter. He peered in at a little sleeping ball nearly the color of peach fuzz curled into one corner. 

"Taffy, remember?" I began unslinging purses and bags from my shoulder, hanging them over a kitchen chair. "Classroom hamster. Jody Cornwell was supposed to take him home over Christmas break, but he has the chicken pox, and I couldn't get anyone else's parent's permission in time. Poor little guy had to wait in the car while I was visiting with Kathy after work—uh, and what's this?"

I stood staring at the glasses and the wine and looked up at him, pushing my hair out of my face and frowning. He uncorked the bottle and began to pour us each a glass. 

"We're having a dinner guest." He offered me a glass of wine. 

I smiled, my eyes questioning, and shook my head. "You know I don't like this stuff."

"Try it," he said, clinking his glass with mine. 

"So do I have to guess who's coming to dinner?" I lifted the glass to my nose, wrinkling it at the smell. TJ waited, watching me sip it, surprised as I took my first taste. "It's good, isn't it? I'll give you a hint. It's not Sidney Poitier."

"Then who is it?" I took another sip. "This isn't bad. Fruitier than most of the wine you've made me drink." I winked at him. "But it still tastes like alcohol." 

I sat at the kitchen table, kicking off my heels. As often as I complained about them, I still wore them. TJ liked them, and I liked TJ imagining me standing in front of a classroom of kindergartener's in those heels. I looked up at him, waiting.

TJ took a gulp of his wine. "Gretchen."

"Who?" I set my glass on the table and stared at him. I knew, of course I knew, after our conversation last week, what I'd told him about that week in Key West with the Baumgartners and the year that followed. Still, I acted surprised. I was surprised, really. How had he found her?

TJ began talking fast. "It wasn't hard at all, Ronnie. You could have kept in touch yourself if you wanted to. The Baumgartners still live in the same house, and Gretchen is still their nanny. Well, I imagine it's more like cook and housekeeper and stuff like that, now that the kids are teenagers. I just called the number in the phone book and asked for Gretchen. It was easy." 

Easy. So the Baumgartners lived about twenty miles away from us, in the same house? I tried to imagine them, Doc and Mrs. B. And Janie and Henry, all grown up! My mind refused to wrap around the idea. 

TJ took another gulp of wine. "Well, it's kind of funny how it all fell into place. Mrs. Baumgartner was thrilled to hear from me, and wanted to know all about how you were doing. Apparently, they're going on their annual trip to Key West over the holidays next week. I think that must be same the trip they took when—"

"You talked to Gretchen?" I asked, standing and taking my glass to the sink. 

TJ continued as if he hadn't heard me. "—when you went with them, the one you told me about? Yeah, I talked to Gretchen. She insisted on seeing you, wanted to call you, talk to you, but I thought... well, I thought it would be better to meet face to face." 

I poured the rest of my wine down the sink, rinsing the glass and setting it on the counter next to the hamster cage. "You thought I'd chicken out and not meet her at all, didn't you?'"

"Maybe." He poured himself another glass of wine. 

I turned to him, crossing my arms over my chest. "So you just decided to invite her to dinner without talking to me?"

"Honey, she practically invited herself," he replied, avoiding my eyes and taking another gulp from his glass. "There wasn't a lot I could do to stop it."

"TJ..." I sighed. "What did you think? She'd come over and we'd have a threesome on the kitchen table?"

"No." He laughed, standing up and putting his arms around my waist. "I just thought it would be nice for you to see an old friend."

I rested my head on his chest, putting my arms around him. "I just wish you'd... consulted me?" I lifted my head, suddenly aware of the quiet. "Where's Beth?"

TJ looked sheepish. "At your mother's."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh come on! I haven't seen a setup this obvious since Sidney Poitier showed up for dinner with Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracey."

"I don't think they had a threesome... did they?"

I pinched his waist, making him yelp and jump. "You know what I mean."

"I'm not up to anything. I swear it." TJ hugged me, kissing the top of my head. "I just thought you two would like to be able to talk about... well, whatever came up. Without having to worry about Miss Big Ears hanging around."

"Still, you didn't have to hide it from me," I said with a sniff. "It feels... icky."

"I—" I could tell he was about to deny it and he stopped. "I'm sorry. I can call her and cancel. I will if you want me to." 

I raised my eyes to meet his. He was up to something, even if he was pretending he wasn't. Still, the thought of seeing Gretchen again made my skin tingle and my face feel warm. Did I want to cancel? The truth was... I wanted to see her again. The truth was, now that he'd opened the door, I wanted to see all of them again—Doc, Mrs. B, Janie, Henry. It was like some irresistible Pandora's Box. 

"Let's just... take things slow," I said, my voice and eyes soft. "See what happens—" I pressed my cheek against his chest again, shaking my head. 

"Okay," he agreed, hugging my shoulders. 

"So, when is she coming?" I pulled away from him and went to retrieve my purse from the chair. "How much time do I have to get ready?" 

"Only about half an hour," he admitted, looking at his watch. "She's supposed to be here by six."

"Well, then, I better hustle!" I flashed him a smile as I passed, heading for the stairs, already wondering what I was going to change into. 


A Baumgartner Reunion Ch. 02



There wasn't any preparing myself, even if I told myself there was as I stood in front of the mirror and double-checked my hair and make-up, smoothed the brown silk skirt and tucked in my blouse. I was glad I was upstairs when she rang the doorbell. Just hearing her voice made my hands tremble and I pressed them to my thighs to keep them still as I paused at the top of the stairs.

"So nice to meet you!" Gretchen's smile was for TJ, but her look was just for me, and I knew it. She took a step toward the stairs, meeting my gaze with hungry eyes. I couldn't help my smile, even though it felt goofy on my face as I came the rest of the way down.

"Gretchen!" Her name felt familiar in my mouth, even after all this time. "You cut your hair!" She laughed, snaking an arm around my neck and pressing her cheek to mine. "All of them—probably several hundred times since you last saw me, sweetie." 

It was a very brief thing, that hug, but I could smell her hair, still white-blonde but cut into a short bob now, making her thin, pale face look fuller. She smelled fresh and sweet, like clover and oranges. How old was she now? I was doing the math in my head and came to the sum of thirty-four. Five years older than I was. There were the faintest lines around her eyes when she smiled, but she was still Gretchen. 

"Come on in out of the cold." TJ shut the front door against the wind and snow, offering to take Gretchen's coat. Her dress was short, shimmering black in the lamp light as she shrugged her shoulders and let her coat slide off into TJ's hands. I knew she'd dressed for me, just like I'd dressed for her—and I think she knew it, too, the way her eyes moved over my blouse, unbuttoned into a suggestive V. She still had much more than I did in that department, the black fabric gathered between her breasts showing quite a bit of cleavage. I noticed TJ noticing as he poured wine and we sat around the kitchen table. 

"Oh my god, Ronnie, you look so amazing." Gretchen smiled a thank you as TJ handed her a glass of wine. "I don't think you've changed at all." 

"You haven't seen my stretch marks." I laughed, wrinkling my nose when TJ handed me a glass and setting it aside. "You look the same too—except all your hair is gone!"

"I got too old to get away with it anymore." She winked, taking a sip and turning appreciative eyes to TJ. "Mmm, this is good!" 

"It's a petite syrah," TJ said with a nod.

Gretchen raised her eyebrows at him and lifted her little snub nose into the air in a delicate sniff. "And something smells fantastic." Her eyes were the same bright green, just as mischievous and not likely to miss a thing. Every time she looked my way, I felt it, like a familiar ache.

I took a long drink of wine and grimaced. "TJ's famous spaghetti—secret recipe, straight from his grandmother in Sicily." 

"I'm so glad you called." Gretchen sat up and reached over to touch TJ's hand. It was brief, just a squeeze, but I noticed her long, manicured nails, painted bright red, an uncharacteristic color for her, and it reminded me sharply of Mrs. B. She turned her gaze to me again, and there it was, that feeling like someone had just reached their hand into my belly and twisted. "I've thought about you so often."

I held my empty glass out to TJ, who poured with a raised eyebrow. "I've thought about you, too." It wasn't a lie. When I'd first ended things with Gretchen, I thought about her all the time, and I knew it would drive me insane if it didn't stop, so I did what I needed to do. Vince, the guy I was dating at the time, was a personal trainer—gorgeous, ripped, he had a brilliantly rational mind but was more than a little OCD—and he taught me how to get rid of Gretchen for good. I'd put a rubber band around my wrist, and every time my thoughts turned to her, I snapped it—hard. Really, really hard. Sounds silly, but it worked. Between that and the incredibly huge eleven inch cock Vince presented me with to handle at every possible occasion—I've never had bigger, before or since—it was enough of a distraction to get me through. But the truth was, while it worked to keep me distracted, it didn't work all the time. No, not all the time.

Both of TJ's eyebrows were raised at me now and I tried to change the subject. "So, how are the Baumgartners? What's everyone up to?"

"Oh Ronnie, you wouldn't believe how big the kids are!" Gretchen smiled, shaking her head. I nodded, remembering them frozen in time: Janie as a gawky almost-twelve and Henry as a typical nine-year-old boy. Mrs. B had sent me a Christmas card that first year after Gretchen and I broke up, but then I moved, and the mail only got forwarded for so long. I still had that last photo tucked away in a box full of old diaries and journals marked: "Ronnie's Private: Keep Out." I remembered Janie's big front teeth and honey-colored ponytail, Henry's lopsided smile. Gretchen was still talking. "Janie's just gorgeous, she's got boys following her around like puppies. And Henry's huge, like his dad. You'll see—you're coming to Key West with us, aren't you? Carrie said she invited you..."

TJ and I both said "Probably," and "I don't know" simultaneously. Gretchen sipped her wine and looked between us, her eyes sharp. 

I held my glass out for more wine. "I still can't think of her as Carrie. To me, she'll always be Mrs. B."

TJ poured me half a glass and then got up to check the sauce. I watched him stirring it, feeling warm and flushed and buzzed from way too much wine for me in too short a time. I noticed Gretchen watching him, too, and felt a twinge of something—jealousy?

"So how are Mr. and Mrs. B?" I asked Gretchen as TJ came to the table with a bowl full of spaghetti. 

"Doc's practice is going gangbusters, as always." Gretchen held her plate out as TJ started to serve dinner. "With that bedside manner, though, go figure, right?" She winked at me and I smiled, remembering Doc's easygoing teasing, but mostly I remembered his eyes and the way they would follow me around a room wherever I went, as if he could see right through me. It suddenly occurred to me, as TJ sat down, that he and Doc shared a great deal in common when it came to looks and temperament. Funny how I'd never thought of it before. 

"Carrie's real estate business hasn't done as well recently," Gretchen sighed. "The market is so bad right now. It's one of the reasons... well... things are changing for the Baumgartners. And me, too. Kids don't stay kids—can't be a nanny forever."

I nodded, feeling TJ's knees touch mine under the table as he sat and I gave him a smile. "Still, Gretch, you've been with them a long time."

"I couldn't turn down the money they offered, Ronnie." She shrugged, twirling noodles on her plate. "And, you know... all the fringe benefits." 

That hung there, and I wondered if TJ understood as well as I did what she meant. It wasn't just the trips to Key West and Aspen and the New England Sound. There was so much more to working for Mr. and Mrs. B... 

TJ cleared his throat, his eyes moving between us. "So why did you two break up?"

"TJ!" I nudged him under the table, my eyes wide. "I'm curious..." He shrugged. "Are we not supposed to talk about it?"

"I don't mind." Gretchen smiled, but her eyes were pained, and I looked down at my plate, spearing a mushroom. "Ronnie found a boyfriend."

"The guy I dated before I met you," I explained, wondering if Vince even remembered my name anymore.

"You know how we girls have a tendency to abandon our girlfriends when a guy shows up," Gretchen teased. I wanted to say something, but the wine made my head feel fuzzy, as if it were too full.

"What about you, Gretchen?" TJ asked. "Did you find a girlfriend?"

"Or a boyfriend?" I chimed in, feeling desperate.

"Oh several." Gretchen winked at TJ but the look she gave me was full of a meaning I didn't understand. "Nothing lasting, though. I could afford to be picky, living with the Baumgartners." 

I tried to imagine what it might have been like, if Gretchen and I had never broken up. Would she have stayed their nanny, then, I wondered? Would we all have been one big, happy family? The thought filled me with a mixture of longing, regret, and a deeper feeling I didn't even recognize at first—anger.

"This is the best spaghetti I've ever tasted." Gretchen's compliment made TJ blush and I smiled.

"He's a much better cook than I am."

"Like Doc?" Gretchen winked.

"Better." I touched my knee to TJ's under the table and he looked up at me, his eyes tender. "Although I admit, Doc could make a hell of a sandwich." 

"Mmm god yes." Gretchen's tone changed and she gave a low, throaty moan that reminded me immediately what it was like between us. Her eyes met mine and they said it all. "He still can." 

The double entendre didn't escape any of us. I couldn't help but remember—not only the night Doc and I snuck downstairs to make sandwiches and, while Mrs. B slept upstairs, he fucked me on the kitchen counter, but also there was the clear memory of being sandwiched between Doc and Mrs. B in more positions than I had ever imagined. 

Gretchen's hand found my knee under the table and squeezed. She leaned forward, eager, earnest. "You are coming aren't you?"

I shrugged, not looking up. "I don't know, Gretch..."

"Oh, Ronnie, you have to come," she pleaded with both voice and eyes. "This is the last summer we're all going together. Henry's graduating this year, and I'm... well... things are changing. It would be so good, like old times."

I glanced at TJ. "I've never really left our daughter for so long..."

"She loves staying with your mother." He shrugged, no help at all. I knew what he wanted, what he hoped. 

"You could always bring her...?" Gretchen suggested.

"No. Out of the question." I shook my head, adamant, and they both looked at me, surprised. I shrugged. "And really, I think two weeks is a long time to be gone..."

"I could stay here with her for a week," TJ offered. "Let you go out there for a week, and then fly out to meet you for the second..."

Gretchen brightened. "What a great idea."

"TJ..." I gave him a warning look but he ignored it.

"Something to think about..." He shrugged, filling my wine glass. I looked at it, already feeling way too buzzed to make any real decisions.

"You only live once," Gretchen prodded. Her hand moved over my knee under the table still, edging along the silk edge of my skirt. "We've all missed you, Ronnie."

I stood up, carrying my plate to the sink, murmuring. "Let me think about it."

I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think about anything. The wine had made me sleepy and way too relaxed, and when Gretchen curled up on the couch beside me and put her head in my lap just like she used to, I didn't say a word. TJ sat in the chair across from us, watching, listening to us talk—reminisce, really. It was as if someone had hit "pause" on the tape and had now pushed "play." We just picked up where we left off, soft voices. low laughs, inside jokes, our fingers twined together. 

When Gretchen yawned, stretched and sat up, saying she had to get back, it was very late, and I didn't want her to go. TJ helped her on with her coat and her kiss goodbye was a little longer and too lingering to be called just friendly. She gave TJ a hug and thanked him again for calling. I knew it was coming and had planned my even, measured response to it, but when she said the words, mine wouldn't come. 

"We're flying out Monday." She squeezed my hands in hers, swinging them, and it made me feel like a little girl. "Doc says just give him the word and he'll book your tickets." 

"I—" They weren't there, those words I'd planned, the polite refusal, the kind turn-down. It wasn't just that I couldn't say them—it was as if they didn't exist anymore. "I'll let you know."

"Please." She leaned in and kissed my cheek, her lips brushing the corner of my mouth, making me shiver. "Please come." 

With that, she was gone. 

TJ closed the door, calling for her to be careful on the snowy stairs and then turned to me. "What do you think?"

I plopped down on the couch, still warm from where Gretchen and I had been cuddled together. "I think I'm in over my head."

"Time to grow gills?" He sat beside me and took my hand. 

"TJ..." I sighed, not looking at him.

"It's sort of a once in a lifetime thing, isn't it?"

"Well, in my case, apparently...twice?"

He grinned, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "Lucky you."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Lucky me..."

* * * *

I knew I was really going to go through with it when I decided to shave everything down there. Honestly, I think I knew the moment I saw Gretchen again, but shaving was a symbolic act, a physical representation of a so-far ethereal decision. Doc had paid for our tickets, plans had been made, but it didn't feel real until I put a towel up on the bathroom counter that morning and handed TJ a razor. 

"Everything?" He was used to trimming me, shaving the sides into a neat little landing strip, but I hadn't gone completely bare since that summer in Key West. 

"Everything," I agreed, spreading my legs and leaning back against the mirror, hoping he wouldn't see the way my thighs were trembling or how wet I was already in anticipation. 

The razor moved slowly, carefully, up one side and then the other, stripping me of a clear remnant of womanhood. It felt like turning back the clock in some ways, going back to that time when I was so young, so unknowing, so eager to learn. Still, there were things I couldn't un-know, experiences that had changed me forever. My body had changed, my hips fuller, my breasts, too, after nursing Beth for two years. I had stretch marks on my lower belly, now, soft plaits the remnant of my pregnancy. I knew there was no going back, even as I let him strip me bare in hopes that there somehow was.

"So smooth." TJ's fingers rubbed over my vulva, his eyes eating me up, hungry, and I wanted more than just his gaze. I would be on a plane in less than five hours—I'd insisted on a separate flight, wanting them all to have a chance to settle in for a day before I showed up—reunited with three people who, for that one glorious week that summer, had been my lovers, my teachers, my mentors. I couldn't even begin to imagine what might happen, but my body was strung tight, like a bow pulled taut, waiting to shoot some fated arrow.

"I'm going to miss you." I ran my fingers through his hair as he knelt and wiped me down with a washcloth, smoothing away any stray hairs. I could see my own clit when I looked down, my lips swollen and parted. It peeked up, as if asking to be touched, and the air felt cool and intrusive, a sensory overload. 

"It's only a week." He kissed my thigh, his eyes still focused between my legs. Exposed, my pussy felt ornamental now, a showpiece, something I couldn't hide. It excited me. 

"Anything can happen in a week." I gasped when his tongue flicked against my clit, quick, snake-like, a tease. 

"Anything you want." He looked up at me, his big hands pressing my thighs open, keeping them there. 

"Anything?" I raised my eyebrows at his carte blanche. We'd talked about it over the weekend, all the endless possibilities. I'd changed my mind a hundred times about going at all. We talked about setting ground rules, dismissed it and decided to play it by ear, only to come back to the idea of rules again. Everything felt uncertain, precarious, and it was both exciting and scary. We were on the verge anyway, with everything—his job was taking him to New York this summer, and I had just found a position in a private school out there. I didn't know what I was going to do with Beth. We didn't know anyone out there. I didn't know what I was going to do, and this vacation seemed like a push off a cliff I was already teetering over...

"I want you to have a good time." His breath moved against my pussy, warming me, making me tremble. "I want that most of all."

"Oh Teej..." It was my pet name for him, as if you could shorten his name or initials any more, yet I had found a way. I wanted to say something, to make everything good and right and perfect, but I didn't know the words, so I just pressed him to me, kissing his mouth with my pussy. He groaned, burying his face there, pushing my legs back, trying to get more.

"Oh god." I whispered the words, just letting him take what he wanted, what I wanted, what we both wanted—my pleasure. Still, after all this time, there was no one who could take me like TJ did, and I whimpered under his tongue, groaning as his fingers slid into me, seeking heat. There was no barrier to his mouth now, my lips parted for him, my clit seeming to tilt toward him. He flicked it, lapped at it, split me with both fingers and tongue, both of them meeting in the middle and then trading places, his fingers circling my clit, his tongue slipping down into my hole.

"Ahhhhhh god!" I cried as he began to fuck me with his tongue, his finger making quick work of my clit, back and forth, so fast it felt constant. There was no resisting him. My body knew what it wanted and he took it, shoving his tongue deep into my pussy as he made me come with his fingers rubbing my clit. The muscles in my cunt squeezed at him, sucking his tongue deeper, like a hungry, eager kiss as I came, my whole body shaking, my nipples hardening in surprise at the sudden sensation. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he murmured against my flesh, standing between my legs and rubbing his whole hand over my mound, making me let out a moan halfway between pleasure and pain. He was wearing boxers and his cock tented them nicely. There was a small wet spot around the head and I reached out to touch it with the tip of my finger. 

"You want that, baby?" 

I nodded, watching as he slid his shorts down, letting his cock spring free .It extended thickly against my thigh as he leaned in and kissed me. I could taste myself on his tongue and it reminded me of Gretchen and Mrs. B—the amazing, unmistakable, thick, pungent taste of pussy—and TJ seemed to know it.

"You like that?" He whispered the words as he slid his cock between my legs, nudging them further open. "The sweet taste of cunt in your mouth?"

I nodded against his shoulder, reaching down to grasp him, tugging hard. He gasped as I slipped the head of his cock up and down the now-smooth lips of my pussy, his eyes closing, his head going forward to my chest, clearly lost in the sensation. I tickled my clit with him for a moment before tilting my hips and sliding him into position.

"You like that sweet shaved little pussy?" I whispered as he shifted forward, sliding in. He groaned in response, arching, searching for more. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his behind and pulling him deeper. He shuddered, gripping my thighs and then shifting his hands up toward my pussy, sliding slowly out.

"God, that's beautiful." I could see him, too, thick and red, pulling back and back until just the head was inside of me. He massaged the smooth lips of my vulva with his thumbs, his eyes full of lust.

"Smooth as a baby," I murmured, wiggling against him. "Like some sweet young thing with the tightest little cunt you've ever been in." His eyes brightened at my words and I squeezed the head of his cock with my muscles, telling him I wanted more of him. He pressed forward, using his now-wet thumbs to rub my nipples, making me moan.

"God that's good." He rolled his hips into me again and again, watching his progress, in and out of my wetness. The sound of our bodies meeting, flesh against flesh, echoed against the wet tile and I leaned back on my elbows, fingering my own nipples as he fucked me, letting him do all the work. His thumbs eased my lips apart again, nudging my clit back and forth between them.

I looked up at his face, his eyes, the way he stared between my legs and my completely bald cunt.




A Baumgartner Reunion Ch. 03



If I thought I'd been unprepared for seeing Gretchen again, nothing could have prepared me for walking back into the house I'd shared with the Baumgartners that week and seeing Mrs. B in her black bikini, smiling warmly and opening the door to my tentative knock. 

I'd spent the whole flight remembering that week in December, as I watched the snow covered ground give way to the clouds and then eventually descend into sand. Of course, they must have planned it. I knew that now, although I hadn't consciously realized it then. They asked me to come under the pretense of babysitting the kids, but that isn't really why I'd been invited along. It had been planned from the beginning. 

How young I had been—how naïve. Mrs. B's slow seduction had worked like a charm—sunbathing topless and encouraging me to do so, too; letting me borrow one of her micro-bikinis and offering to shave me down there so nothing would show. How had they known I would slowly acquiesce the way I did, unable to resist her softness, both of them keeping me curious and on-edge about Doc until just the right moment when he finally came in between us, as if it were meant to be?

It wasn't until after it was all over, of course, that I felt manipulated. It wasn't until after Gretchen and I had parted, looking back on that week in Key West, when I realized I'd been used. The reality was Doc wanted a young, nineteen-year-old piece of ass, and his wife planned the seduction. So why, then, was I sitting on a plane, flying out to Key West once again, to stay with the Baumgartners?

The thought went through my mind as I stood in front of their door, waiting for someone to answer. The truth was, I didn't want to believe it was true. I wanted to think the Baumgartners really cared about me and what happened was as sweetly exciting and spontaneous as it felt—we were all swept away in the passion of it. Some part of me must have still believed that, because there I stood, knocking on the Baumgartners' door, and when Mrs. B answered, squealing and putting her arms around me, I leaned into her and sighed, and almost felt like crying.

"Oh Veronica, it's so good to see you!" Mrs. B kissed my cheek, her lips full and soft, catching the corner of my mouth as she turned her head. "Doc! She's here!" Mrs. B hadn't changed at all—the same honey-colored hair falling over her tanned shoulders, the same lush curves. I swallowed hard when she turned, holding my hand and leading me down the hall, seeing that her bikini was a thong, as usual, and she was completely exposed from behind.

"Look at you." Doc grinned as he came down the stairs, shaking his head. Doc was a little grayer around the temples, his dark curls a little less thick, but his smile was infectious, and his eyes swept over me, just like they always did, making me tingle. "Come here, girl!" 

He swept me into his arms and squeezed, reminding me how big he was. I felt tiny in his arms, in spite of the ten extra pounds I'd put on since I had Beth. He kissed the top of my head and smiled down at me, his eyes sweeping over my outfit. I was dressed for a Michigan winter—long, gray wool skirt and a light pink sweater with soft brown suede boots. 

"Did you bring your own bikini, or are you going to have to borrow Carrie's?" 

I smiled—I couldn't help it. "I've got my own suit, Doc."

"Well, then, let's see it!" He winked at his wife. "Everyone else is out swimming and we were just about to join them."

Everyone else. Doc pulled his shirt off and headed toward the door wall that opened up to the private beach in back. I couldn't help but notice his broad, tanned back, the thick muscles in his arms, and wondered how old he was now. My god, how old had he been back then? I heard Gretchen's voice the minute he pulled open the door. 

"Janie, can I listen to your Ipod?" 

Everyone else included Janie and Henry, all grown up. I couldn't even imagine what they would look like. Would they even remember me? I was suddenly scared to find out.

"Come." Mrs. B took my hand and started leading me toward the stairs. "Let's get you settled in your room so you can change." I followed her up the stairs and down the hallway, a strange sense of deja-vu washing over me. The doors to what had been Janie and Henry's rooms when I stayed with them last were closed, but the three doors at the end of the hall were open, and I remembered those rooms very well—the bathroom, Mr. and Mrs. B's room, and what had been my room. Mrs. B stopped outside the junction of the three doors, as if we were at some crossroads, and glanced back at me.

"Gretchen normally sleeps here." She nodded at the room I had once occupied. "But she insisted on sleeping on the sofa bed downstairs so you could have this room."

"No." I shook my head, hefting my bag up over my shoulder. From this angle I could see into all three rooms—the huge Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom; the vanity with the tall mirror where I had watched Mr. and Mrs. B have sex; the bed I had slept in, often tossing and turning as I listened to the sounds of their lovemaking—and it really did feel like some sort of crossroads now. I had a decision to make, and it was suddenly clear to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. B, but I can't do that. This is Gretchen's room. I'll sleep on the sofa."

She frowned, showing the lines around her eyes and her mouth more clearly than I remembered. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Our eyes met and I saw disappointment in them. "I'll change in the bathroom and meet you out on the beach, okay?"

She nodded, turning and starting down the hall. I didn't watch her, but I was aware of her curves, the soft sway of her hips as she went down the stairs. In the bathroom, I made sure to lock the door behind me before I began to undress. I was Michigan-winter pale, but I didn't have any ambitions of getting a tan this time. Now I was old enough to concern myself about things like skin cancer and wrinkles and instead of lathering myself with baby oil, I slathered SPF 15 all over my nude body before pulling my suit out of the bag. 

In spite of what I'd said to Doc, I didn't wear a bikini anymore. It had a low back and the front was an X that tied up around my neck, but it was a rather sedate brown one-piece that thankfully covered any hint of my stretch marks. I pulled my long, dark hair back into a ponytail with a Scrunchie and took a long look at myself in the mirror. The woman standing in the mirror was ten years older and wiser than the young girl who had once stood here in Mrs. B's borrowed orange bikini. 

"Here goes nothing," I said to no one at all, shoving my discarded clothes back into my bag and carrying it downstairs. I left it at the end of the sofa along with my purse, like an announcement. I stood at the door wall for a moment, knowing the sun glinting off the glass would shield me from their sight, allowing me to watch unnoticed until I could get up my nerve to go out there. 

Gretchen, wearing headphones and sunglasses, was stretched out on her back on a big beach blanket. Mrs. B had undone the straps to her bikini top and stretched out on her stomach beside her. I saw Doc wading out into the surf in the distance, and there was a young couple laughing and splashing each other down at the other end of the beach. I shivered in the air conditioning, pressing my hand to the glass, which was warm to the touch, wondering if I was ever going to gather enough nerve to open the door.

I wondered where Janie and Henry were when the young couple stopped their play and began running down the beach toward Doc. The woman was blonde, her hair almost the color of Gretchen's, but with a little more warmth, like honey. The way she moved, her hips swaying, her body's gentle curves, reminded me so much of—

"Janie!" I whispered, pressing my forehead to the glass. And behind her, of course, was Henry, tall and dark and broad like his father, with those same disarming curls. It can't be—even as my mind denied it, I knew it was them—even before Janie threw her arms around her father's neck and he swung her around, tossing her into the waves. I could hear her squeal, even through the glass. Both Doc and Henry laughed as she came up sputtering and wet, eyes blazing at her father.

"Daddy!" It was her voice, still, but different, older. Both Gretchen and Mrs. B looked up as I opened the door and stepped out onto the hot sand. "I didn't want to go in yet!" 

"Too late!" Henry grabbed his sister by the waist and wrestled her back into the surf as she howled in protest. 

"There you are!" Gretchen stood and held a hand out as I advanced. I took it, letting her kiss me, but turning at the last moment, so that her lips landed on my cheek instead of my mouth. She raised her eyebrows and then glanced down at my suit. She was wearing a black thong and matching bikini top, very like Mrs. B's. "Ugh, what's with the granny suit? How are you going to get a tan?"

I shrugged. "It's serviceable."

Mrs. B shaded her eyes, looking up at us. "You look pretty, Veronica." Her words sounded hollow to me, though, and she closed her eyes again.

"Come on, let's go in." Gretchen led me over the hot sand toward Doc and the kids. The kids—ha. Except they weren't such kids anymore. Henry was almost nineteen, and Janie had to be drinking age now, although just barely. "Guess who's here!?" Gretchen's announcement was full of excitement, and I waited as they turned toward us, sure for a moment that neither of them would recognize me, or remember.

"Ronnie!" Henry exclaimed, his grin very like his father's. I smiled back at him, relieved. 

When I turned to meet Janie's eyes, her mouth smiled, but her eyes didn't. She gave a little nod and just said, "Hi." It had to have been at least ninety out there on the beach, but I suddenly felt cold. Gretchen squeezed my hand and I looked at her, puzzled, but there was no time for any communication.

"Hop on babysitter!" Henry announced, lunging for me. I squealed and ran, going purely on instinct and habit, and just barely escaping the hand that grazed my arm. Unfortunately, he was taller and stronger than I was now, and caught up with me easily, wrestling me to the sand and pinning me under his big body. 

"Good Lord, what have they been feeding you?" I gasped, barely able to breathe, but I was laughing, and so was he. The game was over much quicker than I anticipated as he rolled off me, sitting up and hanging his arms over his knees and smiling down at me. I saw Gretchen, back on the blanket with Mrs. B, and Janie and Doc in the water.

"How ya been?" Henry asked, nudging me with his toe. "How come you never called us or wrote or came to see us or anything?" 

Breathless, I half sat, looking over at where Janie was wading further out into the water away from us. Because of Henry's characteristic bluntness, which he clearly hadn't grown out of, it dawned on me why Janie's reception had been less than enthusiastic. I felt a twinge of guilt, biting my lip as I watched her dive beneath the waves.

"I..." My words felt caught in my throat and when I looked over at him and saw the confusion and hurt on his face, my heart lurched in my chest. "Oh Henry, I'm so sorry. I meant to, but... well, my life has been kind of... complicated... and very busy... since you were little..."

"Yeah?" He picked up a stick and started drawing circles in the sand. It reminded me of when they were little and we'd spent hours making sand castles. 

"I guess you're not so little anymore." I knew I was stating the obvious. 

"Mom said you got married and had a kid?"

I nodded, thinking of TJ and Beth for the first time since the plane had landed and I'd called to let them know I was safe. "She's five now."

"I guess kids make your life pretty complicated?" It was half question, half statement, and I didn't know how to tell him the truth, how to even begin. 

I just shrugged. "Sometimes..." We were quiet for a while, watching Doc and Janie swimming, listening to the sound of the waves. All the time I'd stayed away, it had never occurred to me what they would think, how they would feel... I'd been too concerned with how slighted I felt.

"I'm glad you're here." The pressure of Henry's hand on mine surprised me. His hand was big, his fingers long, like his father's. 

I smiled back at him. "I am, too." Even as I said it, I knew it was true. 

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Henry was racing toward the water before I could even take another breath and I swore softly, stumbling to stand in the sand. 

"No fair!" I called after him, but he was already halfway to the water's edge, laughing over his shoulder at me.

The water was so much warmer than I expected and I groaned as I rolled to my back and floated in the waves. If nothing else, it was nice to float along with nothing to do. It had been years since TJ and I had gone away somewhere together—since before Beth was born—and we never could have afforded something like this, a private beach on Key West.

"I miss that orange bikini..." 

I opened my eyes to see Doc swimming toward me. I quickly stood, the water coming to my navel here.

"I'm too old to wear a bikini." I smoothed my hair back. 

He gave a little laugh. "With a body like yours, sweetheart, you'll never be too old to wear a bikini."

The way he looked at me brought back the memory and the feeling of that week so long ago. I felt a slow heat spreading through my middle. Part of me wanted to be insulted by his comment, but another part of me was both flattered and excited by it.

"I guess I'm more self-conscious now than I was... then." 

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes dark and knowing. "Well, we'll have to fix that then, won't we?"

"Hey, let's play a game!" Henry called over to us from where he was periodically splashing his sister just to annoy her. Janie had retrieved one of the floats and was sunbathing on it. 

"I'm not it!" I called immediately, out of habit.

"Me, either!" Doc chimed in, winking at me.

Janie lifted her head, shading her eyes and looking toward me and her father. "I don't feel like playing." She rolled off the float and started wading toward shore, dragging it behind her. 

Henry frowned as he watched her go, swimming over to us. "Maybe Mom and Gretchen want to play?"

I sighed, watching Janie open the door wall and go into the house. "Maybe tomorrow, Henry." My eyes met Doc's and I looked quickly away. I didn't like the look in them, the questions or the knowing. "I think I'm going to go take a shower—wash off the jetlag and the salt water."

I didn't look at either of them as I began to swim toward shore, although I felt their eyes on me and was glad that my suit was so unrevealing. Gretchen lifted her sunglasses as I passed her and Mrs. B shaded her eyes.

"Where are you going?" Gretchen asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Shower." I opened the door wall, glancing back at them. "I'm tired." 

I stopped at the top of the stairs, hearing music coming from Janie's room. I thought about going in and talking to her, explaining... but what would I say? I knew I would have to address it at some point this week, probably soon, but I felt suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed. 

I took a towel out of the linen closet and went into the bathroom. I intended to take a shower, but the big tub looked so inviting that I started to run the water in it, peeling off my wet suit and tossing it into the sink.

When the water was high enough, I turned on the jets and slid in, groaning as the water churned around me. I was tired, although less from the plane trip than from the anxiety and tension of the past few days. It had felt as if I were holding my breath, waiting for the moment when I saw the Baumgartners again, and now I felt deflated, like an empty balloon. 

I floated in the warm water, closing my eyes and trying to block out my thoughts. But I was alone with them, and they were insistent. I couldn't help but wonder what might happen this week—or next, when TJ finally arrived. Mr. and Mrs. B's lifestyle clearly hadn't changed, and Gretchen... I remembered the way she looked at me, the comment she had made about Doc still "making a great sandwich." I knew all I had to do was ask—not even ask—just hinting or suggesting an interest would be enough to get the ball rolling.

I remembered the excitement in TJ's eyes when I talked about a threesome and I knew he wanted it. Maybe... I sighed, rolling my head around the back of the tub. I knew TJ loved me. I knew he wasn't going anywhere—he'd said so. What was I so afraid of? Opportunities like this one didn't present themselves every day. Maybe, I reasoned, we should just take advantage of it this once. Part of me believed that it might be enough to just... get it out of his system. Then we could go back to the way we were.

But could we?

The idea of opening my marriage scared the hell out of me, although I didn't want to admit it. Being part of a threesome, the way things had happened with Mr. and Mrs. B... it was different. I was young and single. I'd had nothing to lose then. Who was it going to hurt? But now...

I sat up in the tub, eyes wide. What about Mrs. B? Was she ever jealous? Did she worry that Doc was going to fall in love with the nineteen year old babysitter and leave her? The thought startled me, and had honestly never occurred to me. How had she reconciled it in their marriage? I wondered if I'd been the first girl they'd ever seduced. How many others had there been? They were obviously still together, and they still cared about each other.

Confused, I leaned back in the tub, closing my eyes again. I couldn't imagine how I would feel, seeing TJ with another woman. But how had Mrs. B felt, seeing me with her husband? 

I jumped when a knock sounded at the door. "Veronica?" It was Mrs. B, her voice concerned. "Can I come in?"

I glanced down, seeing the water churning around my breasts, my rosy nipples floating in the water, and smiled to myself. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen it before. 

"Sure," I called.

She was still wearing her bikini, her body slick with oil as she came in and leaned against the sink. "Are you okay?"

I shrugged and nodded. "I'm fine."

Frowning, she cocked her head, her brow knitted. "Are you sure?"

I nodded again, not looking into her eyes. "Yeah. Just tired from the plane ride, I guess."

Mrs. B shook her head, coming over to the tub. She threw a towel down on the floor and knelt, leaning against the edge. I still didn't look at her, but I felt her eyes on me, searching. She rested her chin on her folded arms with a sigh.

"I don't think you're okay." Her voice was insistent and I swallowed when she touched my hair, smoothing it back from my face. "I think you are most definitely not okay."

I shook my head, denying it, a lump growing in my throat so I couldn't say the words. 

"Hey..." Her voice was soft and kind, as it always had been, just like I'd remembered it. "It's me... you can talk to me..."

I shook my head again, blinking back tears. "No... Mrs. B... I..."

"Oh for Christ's sake, can't you finally call me Carrie?" 

Startled, I looked up at her, meeting her eyes. They were teasing, but serious, too. I laughed, I couldn't help it, and she laughed with me. 

"I mean, come on..." She smiled, cocking her head again. "We're both big girls, now, right?"

"Right." I laughed again, shaking my head. "Okay... Carrie..." Her name felt odd in my mouth, but somehow it was right. "I'm fine. Really."

We looked at each other and both burst out laughing at once, knowing it was the biggest lie in the world. And before I knew it, I was crying instead of laughing, tears streaming down my face, and Mrs. B—Carrie—was leaning into the tub to hug me. 

"Oh sweetheart, it's okay," she murmured, stroking my hair. "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay."




A Baumgartner Reunion Ch. 04



"I can't believe she's even old enough to have a boyfriend." I leaned in to whisper my words to Gretchen as we cuddled together on the couch. Gretchen's head was tucked under my chin as we shared both a spoon and a pint of Haagan-Daas—just like old times. 

"Time didn't stop when you left, you know." Janie tossed the length of her honey-colored hair over her shoulder and gave me a long look before turning her attention back to both the movie and her boyfriend. 

"Ouch," I winced, blinking back tears when Henry gave me a sad, sympathetic look from where he was stretched out on the floor near his sister. Of course I hadn't meant for Janie to overhear me, but it seemed as if the girl had superhuman powers when it came to listening, especially to anything I said.

"Teenage hormones," Gretchen whispered, spooning a big bite of cool chocolatey goodness into my mouth. "She can't help it."

"Shut up, Gretchen." 

"Come over here and make me," Gretchen retorted, matching Janie's snotty tone. 

"Hey, come on, it's a good part." Janie's boyfriend glanced at us, frowning. Brian was a good-looking kid, no doubt about it, tall and tanned and dark-haired. He reminded me of Doc in a lot of ways, especially the sharp, mischievous look in his eyes. He didn't miss much, that one, and I'd felt his eyes on me more than once during the course of the evening. 

"Then pay attention to the movie instead of feeling up my sister," Henry snapped, nudging Janie from behind with his foot. She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder and snuggled closer to Brian. Something was going on under the blanket the two lovebirds were covered with, I was sure, but in the absence of the girl's parents—Mr. and Mrs. B. had gone to bed early—I had been pointedly ignoring it.

"You still want me to make some popcorn?" Brian nuzzled Janie's neck, leaving feather light kisses there and over her chest. She was wearing a halter top that left the tops of her breasts exposed above the blanket. 

"Please?" Janie smiled up at him, and I felt a tightness in her chest. It was the same look Janie used to give me as a little girl when she wanted something, the sweet puppy-dog eyes and slight pout. Except she wasn't such a little girl anymore, was she?  

Brian leaned in to kiss her and I swallowed hard as I saw their tongues touch, Janie's body arching into his, her arms twining around his neck. The boy had to be hard as a rock, laying so close to Janie like that under the blankets—and who knew what was going on underneath them? The thought made me flush, and it wasn't from embarrassment, even if I tried to convince myself it was.

"Anything for you, baby," Brian murmured into Janie's hair.

"Not the microwave kind!" Janie insisted, wrinkling her nose at him as Brian got up. I couldn't help but see the bulge in his shorts, even though they were denim and enveloped him in quite nicely. "Real popcorn. With real butter."

"I can make it, if you want to stay and watch the movie," I offered to Brian from the couch.

"No, thank you." Janie's head snapped toward me and her eyes narrowed. "I don't want your popcorn."

"Real popcorn with real butter, coming up." Brian turned and headed toward the kitchen while Janie snuggled back under the covers, curling her arm around so she could rest her head on it. 

"Here." Gretchen plied me with more ice cream and I attempted a smile as I took the creamy bite. "It's almost gone. We're such pigs."

"Oink," I agreed, watching as Henry lifted the edge of Janie's blanket and slid underneath it.

"What are you doing?" Janie sighed as Henry slipped an arm around her waist.

"I'm cold." Henry settled in behind her and Janie sighed again, but accepted him spooning her, snuggling her back against his chest and twining her fingers with his. 

"You'll have to move when Brian comes back."

"I know." Henry shrugged, glancing toward the doorway where Brian had disappeared. I could hear the whir of the air popper. "You smell like coconut." 

"My shampoo, I think," Janie murmured, her eyes on the screen where Tom Cruise was playing, of all things, a Nazi. 

"It's nice," Henry breathed, dipping his face a little closer to Janie's head. 

"Last bite," Gretchen said, scraping the spoon across the bottom of the ice cream carton. "Want it?"

I shook my head, frowning as I watched my former charges snuggling together on the living room floor. I had noted and tolerated Brian's advances—Janie was old enough, and he was her boyfriend, after all. But this? Henry and Janie were brother and sister, but they were lying together like... like... I glanced at Gretchen, who appeared unaffected by their closeness. Obviously this happened all the time. But for siblings, it seemed like they were too familiar, too...intimate. Much more than I was comfortable with.

"Quit being so mean to Ronnie." Henry's whispered words weren't meant for my ears, and I knew it, but I heard him anyway. Janie didn't answer him, her eyes on the television screen, but I saw the way her jaw tightened. "She loves you, ya know?"

"Funny way she has of showing it," Janie breathed, tossing the blanket aside as she stood. 

"She's so impossible." Henry sighed as his sister stalked out of the room, joining her boyfriend in the kitchen. 

"She hates me." I was surprised at how steady my voice was. 

"She doesn't hate you," Gretchen countered, leaning over to put the ice cream container on the coffee table. "She's just mad. She'll get over it."

"Does anyone else want popcorn?" Brian poked his head through the doorway to inquire and I smiled at him.

"No, thanks."

"I do!" Gretchen waved her spoon at him. "Me! Me!"

"You're going to get fat." I laughed, pinching at Gretchen's nonexistent stomach. 

"Gretchen can out-eat me and Brian put together," Henry scoffed, shaking his head. He stood and announced, "I'm gonna get a Coke," before heading toward the kitchen.

"I don't know where you put it." I watched Gretchen as she stretched, cat-like, her top pulling up out of her shorts to reveal a tanned expanse of belly. 

"I have a hollow leg." Gretchen smiled as she slid back against the couch cushions, the blanket pulling down to reveal the length of her tanned legs. 

I raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember that."

"What do you remember?" Gretchen cocked her knee and traced a line with her finger down her inner thigh toward the hem of her shorts.

"Quit," I hissed, glancing toward the kitchen. Gretchen wrinkled her nose at the warning and ignored it, using her finger to slide her shorts aside a little, revealing the fact that she wasn't wearing any panties. Her pussy lips were shaved smooth, and I glimpsed the familiar pink. "You're bad."

"I know." Gretchen moved back under the blanket, her hand sliding up my bare thigh, her words whispered close to my ear. "You make me wanna be really, really bad."

I groaned softly when Gretchen's fingers pressed the seam of my jean shorts, rubbing there. 

"Popcorn!" Brian announced, coming back into the room with two full bowls, followed by both Janie and Henry. Gretchen eagerly reached out to take one and settled happily next to me, already munching. 

Brian flopped on the floor beside Janie, who sat on the floor stirring popcorn around in the buttery bowl. 

"Did we miss anything good?" Janie asked, licking butter off her fingers.

"It's a Tom Cruise movie," I snorted. "There couldn't have been anything good to miss."

Janie turned to look at me, making a face. "Don't be mean to my Tommy." 

"Who are you now, Rosie O'Donnell?" Henry scoffed.

"Do I look like Rosie O'Donnell?" Janie glanced over her shoulder at him, her blonde hair a cascade down her bare back. She was still wearing the bikini she'd swam in earlier in the day and Henry's eyes swept over her, darkening.

"No, sweetie, far from it." I frowned when I saw Henry's very unbrotherly look. "Besides, I think Tom Cruise is too old for you."

"Ha. He married Katie Holmes, didn't he?" Janie tossed a kernel of popcorn into the air and caught it quite delicately on the pink tip of her outstretched tongue.

"She was a child bride," Henry grumbled, popping the top on his can of Coke and taking a long, loud sip.

"Well, I'm not a child," Janie countered, but she was looking not at her brother, but at me.

"I know," I murmured, but Janie had turned her attention back to the popcorn, the movie, and her boyfriend. 

Brian hushed us with, "I can't hear the movie!" and I refrained from further comment about Tom Cruise's acting ability when Gretchen's fingers slipped under the edge of my cutoffs. 

Being under the blanket made me feel entirely too warm, but I didn't dare throw it off, and Gretchen's teasing made me even hotter. I thought the end of a movie, Tom Cruise or otherwise, had never come soon enough.

* * * *

"Want to go up to my room?" Gretchen whispered as she slipped under the covers and spooned me from behind. I murmured something indefinitive in my sleep, snuggling back against her nakedness in spite of myself. The house was quiet and dark, and I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping on the pull-out sofa in the living room. Henry had fallen asleep before the movie's end, and when Janie and Brian decided to go out after it was over, Gretchen had woken him and sent him off to bed. 

When it was just the two of us, Gretchen helped me pull out the couch bed, and we'd said goodnight. But when she bent her head to my ear to whisper, "I'll come down later," as Janie and Brian got ready to go—I didn't say no. I already knew what was going to happen. Whatever resistance I'd managed to hold onto had disappeared.

"What time is it?" I murmured, blinking in the darkness. Gretchen slid her hand up under my t-shirt, stroking the soft skin of my stomach. 

"A little after two." Her lips found the sensitive spot behind my ear, the one she knew made me melt, and I did just that as her tongue made fat lazy circles there. 

"We shouldn't be doing this," I whispered, tilting my head anyway, to give her better access. "Did Janie and Brian come back yet?"

"I don't know." Her hand moved up to cup my breast, and I gasped when she thumbed my nipple. "And I don't care. I can't wait any longer. I've been thinking about you all night." 

"They don't let him stay overnight here, do they?" I asked, turning in Gretchen's arms, trying to distract her. 

"No." She sighed, recognizing my tactic, but she grabbed my hip and pulled me toward her, twining her long legs with mine. "Not that Janie hasn't asked, but the Baumgartners wouldn't let him. His parents are staying at the Marriott."

"He seems like a nice kid." I tried to ignore the way her hand moved over my hip, stroking lightly, her finger edging at the elastic of my panties.

"He is."

I closed my eyes as she began to feather kisses over my cheeks, pressing my lips briefly with her soft ones before kissing a trail down my throat. I couldn't concentrate, although I kept trying. 

"Gretchen, can I ask you something?" 

"Mmm?" She didn't really answer me as she licked the length of my collarbone, making me shiver.

"Do you think...have you ever wondered if something's going on between Janie and Henry? Something that...shouldn't be going on?" I voiced my concern hesitantly and waited.

"What kind of..." Gretchen's head came up and she frowned at me in the darkness and then laughed. "No! Of course not."

I swallowed and shrugged. "They seem...awfully close."

"They are close," Gretchen agreed, tugging at my shirt, leaving it pushed up that way just under my breasts as she shifted and began kissing my ribcage. "But, Ronnie, come on, they're brother and sister!"

"I know that, but..." I sighed softly as she made a fast circle around my navel with her tongue. "You know... Mr. and Mrs. B are so free... sexually, I mean... ohhh!" Her fingers had found my nipples beneath my shirt, rubbing back and forth over the material the way she knew I loved. I couldn't believe she'd remembered. "I just wondered if maybe..."

Gretchen squeezed both my nipples in her fingers. "I've never seen or heard anything."

I gasped and bit my lip as she nibbled her way along the edge of my panties. "What about tonight, the way they were laying together on the floor?"

"They do that all the time." Her fingers were rolling my nipples now, teasing, her breath hot on my mound as she settled herself between my thighs. "It's just the way they are."

"I guess..." I breathed, trying to remember my concern, trying to remember what or why I was even questioning things. "Maybe... oh Gretchen..." 

Oh god, her mouth! My body remembered her mouth like it was yesterday, and she wasn't playing anymore as she pressed her tongue against the wet crotch of my panties. "Oh god... oh... maybe... maybe...I'm just being a prude."

"I know." I could hear the smile in her voice. "We're going to have to fix that."

"You're doing a pretty good job."

"I can do better."

"I know you can." 

The memories rushed in almost as quickly as my pussy flooded with juice as Gretchen nuzzled my panties aside and probed me with her quick, pink tongue. Everything was so familiar, the press of her hands spreading my thighs, the soft noises she made as she delved deeper into my flesh with her mouth. 

We'd spent the better part of a year as roommates and lovers and even if I'd tried to block it out—and I admit now, I had tried—it all came back in a warm, wet deluge as we writhed together on the little pull-out couch-bed. 

"Lick me, too," she begged, shoving her panties down her hips and positioning herself above me. "Oh please, I want your tongue, I love your tongue on me." Her mouth was already buried in my pussy again, my panties gone now and my legs spread shamelessly wide, my hips rocking up. 

It was dark, but not dark enough that I couldn't see the wet spread of her smooth, shaved lips, the glistening heat of her flesh drawing me in, warming my cheek as she rolled her hips around and around. I explored her with my fingers first, rubbing the thick hood of flesh covering her clit, making her moan against my pussy. 

Oh god, she was so good. She knew just what to do with her mouth, and I gasped when her fingers slid into my wetness, first one, then two, her tongue never leaving the sweet spot at the top of my cleft. Her scent was making me dizzy with lust, and I wondered if the soft spread of her thighs ended at the apex of heaven...or hell. 

"Please, Ronnie," she moaned, spreading wider, lowering her pussy toward my mouth. "Oh, god, I've missed you so much, baby, please, please..."

Her pleading voice, her body so soft but insistent on mine, were more than enough to convince me. Still, I was tentative, licking through the wet folds of her flesh first, getting used to her taste, then savoring it. Her tongue lashed against my clit again and again, sending me to dizzying heights, toward a place I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and didn't care.

"Oh yesss!" She shuddered with the first touch of my tongue to the sweet button of her clit and I began to lick her, slowly at first, moving the nub of flesh back and forth, then faster as she began to rock and moan. I could feel her breasts pressed against my belly, her nipples hard, and I squeezed my own, sending shockwaves down to my aching clit. 

"Gretchen," I managed to whisper in the darkness, the flutter of her tongue about to send me over, and she knew the sound and feel of me about to come, she knew, because she quickly focused her efforts, her mouth covering my mound and sucking hard on my clit. "Ohhh fuck! Ohhhh!" 

I remembered where we were and tried to be quiet, burying my face in the musky taste and smell of her pussy to muffle the sounds of my orgasm as I bucked underneath her. I shuddered with the sensation, my pussy throbbing, but she didn't let up, her mouth fastened tight, sucking every last bit of my climax from me. 

"Stop, stop," I begged, pushing my hips up, trying to free myself, the feeling too much now. She turned quickly, not letting me transition from floating, distant pleasure to more immediate thoughts, straddling first my thigh, and then shifting so her pussy rubbed teasingly against my own still pulsing one. 

"Remember this?" she whispered in the dark, and I broke, then, nodding, reaching for her. I couldn't deny it anymore. I remembered... everything. The taste, the smell, the feel, the sound of her, and there was nothing that could keep me from her now. 

"I missed you so much," I confessed, pulling her close, kissing her deeply. She made a soft noise in her throat as our tongues touched, her hips moving in slow, distracting circles. 

"I'm sorry," I gasped when we broke for air and she sat up on me again, rocking. "I was so stupid... just young and stupid..."

Gretchen pressed her fingers to my lips. "Shh. You're here now. It doesn't matter." 

I didn't quite think that was the truth, but I didn't argue as she pulled my hands up to her breasts and rubbed her pussy against mine, back and forth, the wet, aching sound of our flesh filling the room. Her nipples were hard and I rolled and pulled at them, making her rock faster between my legs. 

"Make me come," she whispered, as if I were doing anything—she was doing all the work, riding faster, harder, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "Oh please, oh baby, now, now, now..." 

I squeezed her nipples hard and she arched, quivering as her climax began, her pussy trapping the heat of it between us, her body bucking, giving it to me, as if she could force her orgasm into or through me somehow. I held her as she came, when she collapsed onto me, breathless and still trembling, her body covered with a fine sheen of sweat. 

"Oh my god," she murmured, cuddling into me, pulling the covers up over us both. "I forgot..." She kissed my cheek, my chin. "So good..." 

"Mmm," I agreed, closing my eyes and trying not to feel the wave of guilt that washed over me suddenly, trying not think about TJ, trying to remember that he'd given me permission to be doing this, reconnecting in just this way with an old friend...and lover. 

"I don't want to lose you again." Gretchen's voice was small and my eyes opened at the sound. I didn't know what to say to her. I had no idea where any of this was going...and maybe I didn't want to know. But I was filled with regret for hurting her so long ago, and wanted, somehow, to make it up to her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, hugging her shoulder, pulling her close so I could kiss the top of her head. "I'm just so sorry."

The silence stretched and I stroked her hair, wondering what she was thinking. I didn't know how she couldn't hate me for finding some guy and taking off on her like she'd been some bad dream I didn't want to remember. I hated myself for it, I realized, glad for the darkness covering the red heat of my cheeks. 

"I'm going back to school starting in January," she declared, sounding proud.

"You are?" I smiled. "What for?"

"Photography." 

I nodded, smiling now, too, remember the amazing pictures she took. The Baumgartners' Christmas card was always one of Gretchen's photos.

"Wow. Good for you, Gretchen."

She shrugged. "Can't be a nanny forever."

"I guess not," I agreed. 

"I'll be in California for two years," she confessed, snuggling closer. "But I don't want to lose touch again, like we did..."

I sighed, shaking my head. "It was my fault..."

"I don't care," she insisted, kissing the top of my breast and sliding a leg over mine. "I just don't want to lose touch. Promise me."

"I promise," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop." She lifted her head to look at me. I saw the glint of her eyes and wondered if she had tears in them, like I did. "I love you, Ronnie. I always have."

"Yeah," I choked, kissing her and feeling one of her tears—or was it mine?—slip between our lips. "I always loved you, too."




A Baumgartner Reunion Ch. 05



"Hello?" I whispered, flipping my cell phone open and hanging half over the side of the couch bed. I'd found my ringing phone in my purse on the floor and managed to answer it just before it went to message. 

"Hey baby, you awake?"

TJ. I smiled at his sleepy tone and knew he was still in bed. "I am now," I whispered, sliding the rest of the way off the couch bed, where Gretchen was still sleeping. The girl could sleep through anything. Of course, I'd finally been sleeping just as hard, having spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about Janie and Gretchen and the Baumgartners and just what in the world I was doing here in Key West in the first place.

"In your own bed?" 

My stomach clenched, even hearing the teasing tone in his voice.

"Of course," I admonished, giving a guilty glance over my shoulder at Gretchen's sleeping face, my eyes traveling over the slope of back, down to where the sheet met the curve of her hip. Damn, she was sexy.

"Alone?"

I bit my lip, grabbing my shorts from their resting place under the couch bed and yanking them on, juggling the phone.

"Not answering that one, huh?" TJ chuckled as I stood and tiptoed to the door wall, opening it to reveal the early morning rise of the sun. It was a gorgeous morning, the breeze already warm on my face as I shut the door behind me. The sky was streaked with fiery oranges and reds and I stood there for a moment, breathless at the sight. 

"Come on, you can tell me," TJ urged, his voice lowering even more. "Did you spend the night with the Baumgartners?"

"You're hard as a rock just thinking about it, aren't you?" I teased, walking down two short steps and across the patio to sink my feet into the softness of the beach sand.

"You know I am." His voice was slightly hoarse. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," I confessed, and I did. I could almost imagine myself in his arms, my fingers walking that sweet, dark line down his belly toward his cock. God, I missed that, too, the feel of him filling me. "I spent the night with Gretchen."

He actually gasped. "Really?"

"Yeah." I kicked at the sand as I began walking toward the water. "Really."

"...And?"

I smiled. "And it was...good."

"Good? Just good?" TJ snorted. "You can do better than that!"

"Well..." I bit my lip, bringing up the fresh memory of the night before, the soft feel of Gretchen's skin, the sweet, pungent taste of her pussy. I could still taste her in my throat. "She came to my bed in the middle of the night..."

"Uh-huh." 

"You really want to hear this?"

TJ groaned. "Hell yes! Tell me."

"Tell me first," I murmured, feeling the gentle throb of my pussy, already responding. I hadn't managed to find my panties and the seam of my shorts rode up between my pussy lips as I walked. "Are you hard?"

"Uh-huh," TJ murmured. 

"Are you stroking it for me, baby?" I closed my eyes and pictured him, cock in hand. The thought made me dizzy with lust. 

"God, yeah," he groaned. "I woke up hard for you, and now I can't stop thinking about you with Gretchen..."

I smiled, walking toward the water. "Thinking about us kissing..."

"Mmmm..."

"Undressing each other..." The waves were cool over my bare feet as I hit the water's edge. 

"Mmm-hmmm..."

"She's got gorgeous breasts," I admitted, remembering the weight of them in my hands. "Firm...full...hard pink nipples..."

"Oh god..." 

I could hear his breath coming faster. I imagined I could hear his hand shuttling up and down the length of his cock and ached to lick off the pre-cum I knew was accumulating at the tip.

"And they're very sensitive," I told him, his groan of pleasure spurring me on. "She loves to have them sucked—hard."

"You're killing me," he whispered. "God, I'm so fucking hard."

"Her pussy is totally shaved," I said, walking along the wet sand at the water's edge. "You'd love it. All wet and pink. Her little clit likes to hide, and she loves being licked."

"I bet she does." He growled softly into the phone and I knew, I just knew he was squeezing his cock hard in his hand, prolonging things. "Did you lick her good for me, baby?"

"She was on top of me at first," I confessed. "Licking my pussy..."

"Mmmm I miss your sweet little pussy." His words made me shiver. "Did you like it?"

"Oh god, yes..." I curved around a large expanse of tall rushes and shoregrass on my walk, letting the dew at the edges wet my outstretched fingers as I passed. "Her tongue is so good, TJ. I forgot how sweet it was to be with a woman."

"Better than me?"

I made a face he couldn't see. "Don't ask me that."

He chuckled. "Go on... did you return the favor?"

"I did." I smiled. "Her pussy tastes so good... I forgot how warm and wet and sweet..."

"Mmm... more..."

"She makes these little noises when she's about to come," I told him, glancing behind me toward the house. It was out of site now—I'd walked a ways down the beach and the vegetation obscured my view. I wondered if I was still on the Baumgartner's private beach at all. There was nothing but sand and vegetation behind me. The next house was barely visible in the distance. "She always asks me to make her come, almost every time, 'Make me come, Ronnie, make me come...'"

"Oh that's hot," he moaned. "Did you?"

"Not with my tongue."

"No?"

I grinned, anticipating his reaction. "She wanted to rub our pussies together."

"Oh my god." He growled into the phone again, a deep, sudden sound, and I knew he was holding back his climax. "Are you touching yourself, baby? Rub your little clit for me..."

I glanced around, up and down the beach. Did I dare? 

"Go on," he urged. "I'm so fucking hard for you. Tell me more."

I sat on the sand, away from the water line, close to the edge of the expanse of shoregrass, and unzipped and unsnapped my shorts. My pussy was aching to be touched. 

"I love it when she rubs her pussy with mine," I murmured, laying back in the sand and sliding my hand down into the V of my shorts. "Her little clit kissing mine like that..."

"Mmmm...yeah... more..." TJ's breath came faster through the phone, in short, hard bursts. 

"I watched her ride me like that," I went on, my fingers finding the already wet, aching bud of my clit and rubbing it. "Her breasts in my hands, her nipples so hard... her breath coming faster..."

"Faster..." He urged, groaning softly.

"Yes..." My fingers rubbed faster, my hips moving with the motion, as I remembered Gretchen's wetness against mine. "Her pussy rubbing there...soooo wet...soooo good...all that pink, hot flesh... again...and again..."

"Oh fuck, Ronnie!" TJ gasped and I knew he was close. Just the sound of his voice sent me straight to the edge and my nipples hardened and tingled under my t-shirt.

"That's how she came for me," I whispered, slipping my fingers deeper into my pussy. "Just like that."

"Ohhh god, yeah, make her come."

"Riding my pussy with hers, fucking me..." I fucked myself faster, deeper, harder, whispering my words to him as the waves crashed against the shore and the sun spread its light across the sky. "Giving me all her juices – I could feel them running down my thighs..."

"Oh baby! I'm coming! Ohhhh!"

I made a soft noise in my throat as I listened to him, the growl of him making me shiver even in the dawning heat of the morning. 

"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes, seeing him pumping his cock in his fist, him cum spilling over in hot waves. What a waste, I thought with a groan. I wanted his cum, I wanted to play in it, lick him clean, swallow him whole. 

My orgasm was a sudden, sweet surprise, and I bucked my hips toward the sky as I came, not bothering to muffle my moans as my fingers probed deep into my flesh, my quivering pussy aching for the hot, full pulse of TJ's cock.

"God I love you," I murmured as I cupped the heat of my mound with my whole hand. 

"I love you, too." I could hear the lazy, post-coital smile in his voice. "Did that really happen?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Of course, I hadn't told him that I'd also had a bathroom encounter with Mrs. B... "Are you jealous?"

"A little," he confessed. "But only because I couldn't be there to watch."

"Just watch?" I teased, zipping my shorts back up. My fingers were wet, and instead of wiping them off, I licked them clean, recalling Gretchen's pungent taste.

He chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't say no to an invitation to join you."

"You're really okay with all of this?" I sat up and shook out my hair—full of sand. 

"More than okay," he agreed. 

"You're okay with me and Gretchen..." I mused, looking across the water at the rising sun. It was brighter now, truly almost morning. "What about me and... say... Mrs. B— er, Carrie?"

"Yep."

I bit my lip and pushed my luck. "Me and Doc?"

"Sure. Why not?" His response surprised me. We'd talked about a threesome with another woman... but he was okay if I slept with another man while he wasn't even around to supervise? "Sweetie, this is your freedom vacation. I told you that before you left. Anyone you want, you can have."

"Our freedom vacation," I reminded him, standing and brushing the sand from my shorts. "You're still coming aren't you?"

"Yep, my bag's already packed."

"How's Beth?" I asked, debating which way to walk. I was probably off the Baumgartner's beach, but I continued on anyway, not quite wanting to go back and face everyone in the house quite yet.

"She's good. She misses you."

"I miss her, too." 

"But she's looking forward to a week at grandma's." There was a short pause and then he laughed. "Speak of the devil, I hear her now. I better go before she tries to get her own Frosted Flakes again."

I smiled, remembering how much trouble little Miss Independent could get herself into in a very short amount of time. "I'll let you go. Call me later?"

"Count on it. Love you, babe."

"Love you more." I smiled.

"I love you more, too," he said, saying what he always said when I told him I loved him more. "Bye."

He'd hung up before he could hear my goodbye, although I said it.

I slipped my cell phone into my pocket and was about to turn back to walk toward the house when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. There were three old cabanas spaced evenly on the sand on the other side of the cover of the tall rushes and shoregrass. 

The vegetation was almost thick and tall enough to hide me completely, even if I was standing, and it might have been tall enough to hide Henry, too, if he hadn't turned his head to the side just at that moment. The motion caught my attention and I moved toward him, frowning, wondering what in the world he was doing out here at this hour of the morning.

Early morning swim? I surmised, as I followed another curve in the vegetation. The field was clearly a natural boundary between the Baumgartner's timeshare and the one across the way. I wondered who the cabanas belonged to. I neared the edge of the field and stopped, my eyes widening and my stomach clenching.

Henry was leaning with his shoulder against one of the cabanas, peering around the side. His face hidden from me, but I could clearly see his swim shorts pulled down, and his hand moving between his legs. 

Flushing, I began to back away, not wanting him to see me or even sense that I was there, fearing it was already too late. His head turned slightly back in my direction, and I instinctively ducked down and into the rushes. The ground there was moist and soft and I sank a little, giving me even more cover. 

Now what? I didn't move for a moment, my heart beating fast, not daring to even breathe. Had he seen me? What in the world would I say if he had? In all of the sexual scenarios I'd imagined since I knew I was coming back to see the Baumgartners, I had to admit that finding Henry masturbating on the beach had never even crossed my mind.

Finally, I dared to poke my head up above the top of the grasses. He was still there, probably twenty feet away, and he was still...well, it was pretty clear what he was doing. His hand was still moving fast between his thighs—I could tell by the way his shoulder flexed—with his cheek resting against the side of the cabana. I was almost directly behind him now, instead of at an angle, and thankfully couldn't really see much anymore. 

I stood there, indecisive, trying to figure out how to sneak away unnoticed, and it wasn't until he leaned a little further around the cabana that I wondered what it was he was looking at, what he was doing here in the first place, out here jerking off behind the old cabanas?

Too curious for my own good, I moved further into the rushes and shoregrass, pushing my way through slowly, trying not to make any noise. Henry was clearly too focused on what he was doing to hear me, I decided, as I found a better angle. My line of sight gave me a good view now of Henry from the side, his face twisted in pleasure, his hand gripping his cock—good god, he was big, like his father, the thick rise of his cock red and swollen, the head almost purple and clenched in his fist.

My pussy twitched at the sight of him, and I swallowed hard, telling myself I needed to get out of there—I needed to get out of there now. This was all kinds of wrong, and I didn't want to have any part of it. Maybe there was some woman he knew who sunbathed nude on the beach or something and he came down here to watch. Boys his age—what was he now, nineteen?—seemed to have no off switch when it came to arousal. 

I told myself to go, to make my way through the grass to the beach and run as fast as I could back the house. That's what I told myself, but when I saw the scene he was actually watching, I stood transfixed, disbelieving, paralyzed.

Brian was spread-eagle on a towel in the sand, Janie straddling him, both of them completely naked. He wasn't inside her of her—not yet. Her back was mostly to me, but I knew it was her, from the spill of her honey-colored hair over her shoulders to the Celtic tattoo in the small of her back that she'd shown off to Gretchen yesterday in the kitchen during dinner. 

Brian's cock was in her hand and she stroked it between her ass cheeks as she rocked, obviously getting ready to fuck him. Staring, I moved further into the weeds, parting them so I could see better. Now I could see them almost from the side, Janie rubbing Brian's cock between her legs. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, his eyes half-closed. They were only about ten feet from the cabana where Henry was hiding watching...and about twenty feet, now, from where I was hiding...watching...

"Oh yeah!" I heard Brian's groan clearly as Janie slid him inside of her. I even heard her soft cry of surprise and pleasure, the sound carrying toward us downwind. Glancing at Henry, I saw his gaze on them, his cock hard in his hand as he watched his sister being fucked. 

Had he followed them down here? Just stumbled across them? For a moment, I found myself angry that Brian and Janie were given so much freedom, that they were down here doing whatever they felt like on the beach in the first place—but I had to remind myself that they were grown-ups. Janie was drinking age now, for god's sake. Henry, too, was an adult. Mr. and Mrs. B. probably wouldn't care if their daughter had brought her boyfriend down to the beach for a little rendezvous... but what about their son's activities as he watched his sister getting fucked?

"Ohhhh yes, yes, Brian, harder!" Janie's voice carried again as she threw her head back, her breasts pointing skyward as she rocked on him. Brian had taken over most of the motion, though, his hips bucking her up and up, again and again. Christ, she was beautiful, her body pure perfection, a long, lean, tawny treasure, not a tan line in sight. 

I found myself wondering if Janie was shaved, like her mother, and the thought made me flush. I told myself it was from shame, but my pussy throbbed and I cupped my mound through my jeans to quell the ache a little.

I couldn't decide where to look—knowing I shouldn't be looking at any of it. Henry was stroking his cock faster now, biting his lip as he peered around the cabana, watching as his sister rode her boyfriend like he was some bucking bronco, Brian's hands cupping her breasts, kneading them in his hands. Janie leaned over him and pressed her breasts into Brian's face, giving both Henry and I a full view of her pussy taking the full length of her boyfriend's cock. 

I suppressed a gasp and found myself wanting to get closer—god help me, I wanted to see. My hand rubbed unthinkingly between my legs, shoving the seam of my jean shorts up between my pussy lips, seeking the hard, aching button of my clit, looking for some sort of relief. 

Then Brian was turning her over and Janie complied, getting up on her knees and arching her back, her bottom rising into the air like a cat that wants petting. He positioned himself behind her, his cock nice and slick and hard as he stroked it against her ass. Oh god, that was gorgeous. Simply stunning. 

The little squeak that Janie let out when he entered her made my nipples tingle with longing, and I found myself slowly unzipping my shorts and sliding my hand inside for the second time that morning. I couldn't help it, apparently, any more than Henry could have. 

That's what I told myself as my fingers found my clit and began to rub it—that he'd stumbled across them and, like me, had been so surprised at first he couldn't move... and then... well... nature does take its course, and sometimes urges are so strong...

Henry's fist encircled his cock, pumping faster as he watched his sister now taking her boyfriend's cock doggie-style, and I wondered how he could stay so quiet. His face clearly showed both his pleasure and his restraint—he didn't want them to know he was there, but he loved watching, was just as turned on as I was. 

And oh god, I was. 

One hand crept up under my t-shirt, tweaking my nipple as I watched Janie getting fucked, her blond hair hanging down over her face, her breasts swaying beneath her in the sand. The towel they'd been lying on had been forgotten in the heat of the moment as Brian pounded her hard from behind. 

"Oh god, oh Janie, oh god baby I'm gonna—" Brian's warning brought an instant reaction from Janie, who shifted her hips quickly forward. 

"Not inside!" She gasped, grabbing his cock and turning to start stroking and sucking him. 

"Oh Janie, oh fuck." Henry's whisper made me shiver and I saw the first hot spurt of his cum erupt from the fat, purple head of his cock and explode like some twisted Rorschach against the back of the cabana wall. It was followed by another and another, his hips thrusting forward as he came, his head thrown back in a silent expression of pleasure. 

The couple on the beach were too involved in what they were doing to hear him—or, thankfully, me, for that matter. Janie was fingering her pussy as she sucked Brian off, and his hands were buried in her hair, shoving his cock deep into her throat. She'd clearly done that before. She could take almost his whole length, and watching it disappear into her mouth was beyond hot. 

"Come on!" she urged, her voice thick as she took him out of her mouth to stroke him against her cheek. "Come all over me! Come on! Do it! Do it!"

"Ahhhhh god!" Brian's hips shifted forward and he did just as she asked, his cock jerking in her hand as he began to come, thick ropes of the stuff hitting her cheek and chin and breasts. I couldn't stand the tension for another minute, and my pussy spasmed with my own hot, shameful climax, my cheeks flushed and sweaty, my nipples hard and straining under my shirt. 

Breathless, I sank to my knees in the soft ground, hidden in the rushes and glad for the cover. I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed, what I'd just done. 




A Baumgartner Reunion Ch. 06



"Come dance with me!" Gretchen grabbed me and pulled hard, making me yelp. My strawberry margarita sloshed over onto my hand and I licked at it as I stood.

"Where's Janie and Mrs...uhm, Carrie?" I was getting better at calling Mrs. B "Carrie" when she was around, but whenever I referred to her, my mouth still wanted to say "Mrs. B." 

Gretchen pointed to the bar where the mother and daughter pair were ordering their own margaritas. We had agreed to this being a "girls night out," but Janie had stubbornly insisted on bringing Brian at the last minute, and Henry had tagged along, although he was too young to drink. I had no idea where Brian had disappeared to, but Henry sat across from me, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his sister at the bar. 

"Want to dance, Henry?" I asked, reaching out my hand as Gretchen began to pull me toward the dance floor. He glanced up at me, his expression one of genuine interest for a moment, but then his attention shifted back to Janie and Mrs. B as they made their way toward the table.

"You go ahead!" He waved us on, and I didn't have much choice but to follow Gretchen—she was practically pulling my arm out of the socket. The music was live and totally Key West. The band was currently doing a cover of Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville. 

"Searching for my lost shaker of salt!" Gretchen's voice joined with the rest of the crowd as she pulled me close, sliding an arm around my waist and rocking me with her hips. It wasn't a fast or a slow song, really, hard to dance to, but Gretchen managed, and my body couldn't help but respond to hers as we swayed together. It seemed less about the dancing and music and more about the interaction between the audience and the band. 

"Some people say that there's a woman to blame..." We sang together loudly, grinning as we changed the lyrics together, on cue. "But you know, it's your own damned fault!"

We laughed and Gretchen leaned in to whisper, "You look so hot in that..." as she slid a thigh between mine, pushing the black leather micro-mini she'd loaned me up to impossibly shameless heights. "Makes me want to take you into the little girls' room." 

"You're bad," I said, but I was smiling as I turned, wrapping her arms around my waist and rubbing my behind against her front as we belted out another verse of Margaritaville. 

"You two are already having too much fun." Carrie nuzzled up to both of us at once, kissing first Gretchen and then me on the cheek. "How are my girls?"

"I can't believe she's old enough to drink," I said, nodding toward the table where Janie was sitting beside her brother and sipping on a Margarita.

Carrie glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. "I know. She makes me feel old!" 

"You're far from old." Gretchen's gaze swept over Carrie's outfit—unlike Gretchen, or me for that matter, her skirt wasn't outrageously short, but it was white leather, and it showed off the long, tanned expanse of her strong, shapely legs. Her blouse wasn't the midriff kind that Gretchen wore or the strapless kind that Gretchen had loaned me—just a short-sleeved navy silk, unbuttoned to a point that was just a little shy of inappropriate. She was dressed perfectly, as always—sexy, inviting, but not too slutty.

"Old enough to know better," Carrie said with a wink, sliding her hand down to the small of my back. "But still—"

"Too young to care." Gretchen and I both finished the sentence with her, and we all laughed. 

"Mom, I want another one!" Janie sidled up behind us, holding her empty Margarita glass. "And Henry doesn't have any money."

"Take it easy, lightweight," I said, raising an eyebrow at her. "You do know there's tequila in those Margaritas, right?"

Janie rolled her eyes, but didn't answer me. "Mom?"

"Tell them to put it on my tab." Carrie nodded toward the bar. "Captain Tony knows me."

"Is that Captain Tony?" I asked.

"The one and only," Carried agreed.

I watced the bartender, wearing a goofy looking sailor's cap, draw a draught of beer. "Looks like a character."

Carrie laughed. "This is Key West—everyone's a character."

Janie was already talking to him and Captain Tony gave a nod in our direction before pulling another margarita glass out from under the bar. 

"Has anyone seen Brian?" Carrie frowned, glancing around the bar. If the crowd dancing and milling around didn't make it impossible, the dimness made it truly too difficult to locate anyone.

"Bathroom?" Gretchen shrugged.

"Speaking of which..." I spotted the ladies' room in the far corner. 

Gretchen smiled. "Want some company?"

"Not this time." 

I left the two of them together, weaving my way through. I gave Janie a smile on my way by, but she pretended she hadn't seen me. The bathroom was small, and had clearly been converted from a one-person lavatory at some point— the outside door still locked, and there were two locking stalls painted pink inside, one handicapped, one not. I glanced in the full length mirror—the only mirror in the bathroom—noting again how short my skirt really was. Janie had made some nasty remark before we left about it, and it still stung, although the alcohol was making me feel a little more comfortable with its length. 

Tonight I was determined to get Janie to come around, I decided, heading toward the small bathroom stall. That was my mission. I was hoping tonight's alcohol consumption was going to help me with that, too. I hurried, lifting my skirt and pulling down my panties before I'd even locked the stall door behind me. I was wiping and just about to flush when the outer door opened.

"We can't do it in here!" A hushed whisper and giggling. 

"The door locks." A masculine voice this time—oh no. I heard the lock click and knew immediately what was about to happen. What was I supposed to do? Go out and excuse myself? Wait and sneak out after it was all over?

I decided to do the former, pulling up my panties and yanking down my skirt before reaching for the handle to flush, knowing the noise would announce my presence. 

"Come here." The guy's voice again. "You know I always get what I want...and I want you."

Oh brother. I pushed the toilet handle, but to my surprise, nothing happened. 

"Brian, you're so bad." The girl's voice was low and teasing. 

And the minute I heard the name 'Brian' I was alert, glad the toilet hadn't flushed. The last thing I needed tonight was Janie freaking out about me being in the bathroom she'd decided to fool around with her boyfriend in. I had to make peace with her somehow, and I was sure discovering her in a compromising position wouldn't help.

Of course, it wasn't like I hadn't seen them already, I thought, blushing at the memory. Not that they knew that... Okay, so I was stuck. I'd just wait it out, I decided, backing toward the corner of the stall. 

"I can't believe I ran into you tonight!" 

My brain registered the words, but the doubt had already surfaced. I knew Janie's voice, and that wasn't it. My mind had clearly wanted to believe it was—but the girl out there wasn't Janie. And if that was Brian...

Common name, I told myself. Could be it's not Janie's Brian. Right? Right. 

There was only one way to find out...

"We've only got a few minutes," Brian said.

It sounded like him. A lot like him. But I'd only really talked to him a few times, I told myself, craning my neck and trying to see them through the crack in the door. How could I be expected to know his voice? "Oh yeah, come on, gimme some of that..."

"Ohhh god, Brian, yes!"

They'd already started, the sound of their flesh slapping together loud in the closed space, the acoustics amplifying the noise. I leaned in closer to the crack in the stall door, determined to see if it was Janie's Brian, but even though I could see them both now, their were backs to me—he had her bent over a sink—and I couldn't determine for sure that it was him. Same hair color, sure. But there were lots of guys named Brian out there with dark hair... There was no mirror over the sink, so I couldn't see their faces. Had he been wearing a black t-shirt and jeans? I couldn't remember. 

"Ohh god your pussy is sooo good!"

The girl moaned, gripping the sink. "Harder!" 

It isn't Brian, I told myself, biting my lip and willing them to change positions so I could see for sure. I told myself I only wanted to see his face, but the sound of their sex was intoxicating, I didn't want to admit I longed to see more. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist, her panties pulled down to her knees, but I could only see the smooth curve of her hip and the hard clench of his bare ass as he shoved himself inside of her. 

Please don't be Janie's Brian, I thought, watching as his jeans slipped further down his thighs, giving me an even better view of the muscles flexing in his ass. God, that was good. I imagined being bent over the sink like that, being fucked from behind, hard and fast, feeling him filling me. Oh god, that was really, really wrong. Especially if that was Janie's Brian out there. It isn't, my mind insisted. It just can't be.

The last thing I wanted to have to do was tell Janie I'd seen her boyfriend fucking some girl in the bathroom. How exactly was I supposed to bring that up? I winced at the thought, shaking my head and praying it wasn't him. I didn't even want to acknowledge my reaction to it, how my pussy throbbed under the short cover of my skirt and my nipples hardened as I watched them fucking, harder, faster, more and more determined to reach their final, sweet destination.

"Ohh fuck, you're gonna make me come!" He moaned and I shrank backward again, sitting down on the seat to wait for the finale, telling myself I didn't want to see, I didn't want to know, but oh god, my pussy was so achingly wet...

"Yes! Yes!" The redhead's voice was high and breathless, urging him on. 

The whole room reverberated with the fast pounding of their flesh and I heard him moan loudly, the unmistakable sound of orgasm. I closed my eyes, biting my lip, trying not to hear the cries of pleasure or imagine that it was me spreading and arching and begging for that hot release of cum...

I tried hard to control my own breathing as I listened to the soft panting and fumbling of their post-coital readjustment. 

"Will I see you back at the hotel tonight?" the redhead asked. Someone turned the sink on and I was relieved for the distraction, taking a few deep, steadying breaths. 

"I'm here with that girl I told you about..." Now that his voice was back to "normal," I had a sinking feeling it really was Janie's Brian, but I still didn't want to believe it. He wouldn't do that to her... would he?

The girl sighed loudly. "Your parents still making you take her out?"

"Her parents are friends of my dad," Brian explained. "I can't say no."

They were going to leave, and I could just go back out there and pretend nothing had happened, I realized. I had no confirmation the guy out there was Brian. I tried peering through the crack in the door again, but his back was still to me. 

"What about when you get back?" The redhead—I could see her face now, pouty and imploring—slid her arms around his waist.

"I'll give you a call when I get back to the hotel tonight." They kissed and I waited, wondering what to do. Janie should know, I told myself. If it's him, she should know. But did I really want to be the one to tell her?

"You promise?" the girl asked.

"Sure." He kissed her again. "Let's go."

It was my last chance. Did I want to know? Were they going to disappear into the crowd without any confirmation? Wouldn't that be a blessing after all?

Then I remembered—Brian's tennis shoes! 

Ducking my head just enough, I looked under the stall door and saw them—a pair of black Karhu M1 running shoes with orange laces and stripes. Unmistakable. And I never would have noticed them at all if Doc hadn't cracked some joke about Brian's hundred-and-fifty-dollar Halloween shoes before we left!

Great. It really was Janie's Brian slipping out with some redhead he'd just bent over the bathroom sink. Some redhead he'd obviously been with before—back at the hotel. And I had to go tell her. Just great.

I slipped out of the stall and washed my hands at the sink, taking a long time in front of the dryer, not looking forward to what I had to do. I tried every way of approaching it I could possibly think of in my head as I stood there, and none of them seemed right.

I found Janie and Henry sitting at the table. Gretchen and Carrie were still dancing, and there was no sign of Brian. I decided to start with that.

"Have you seen Brian?" I asked, sitting next to Janie, addressing the question to her. I had to talk pretty loud to be heard over the music, and that concerned me. Maybe I should wait until we got back to the house?

She shrugged one shoulder, sipping her margarita, but didn't answer me.

"I thought..." I took a deep breath. "I mean...I saw him. By the bathroom. In the bathroom."

"Yeah, where is Brian?" Henry gave me a puzzled look and then glanced toward the bar but Janie pretended she hadn't heard his words at all. 

"I don't know why you're so concerned about where he is," Janie snapped, finally turning to look at me. Her eyes, even in the dimness, flashed angrily. "I mean, what? Are you going down some list? My mom, Gretchen, probably even little Henry over here... do you want to fuck Brian, too?"

I actually sat back, gasping as if she'd punched me in the stomach, and it felt as if she had. I couldn't see anything as I got up from the table and pushed my way blindly toward escape. I heard Henry calling after me, but I didn't stop. 

There were always cabs on the street in Key West—the cabbies made a fortune taking home people who'd had way too much to drink. And, judging from the kindly rastafarian's response, I'm sure it wasn't the first time some crying woman had jumped into his cab either.

I gave him the address of the Baumgartner's timeshare and sat back as he pulled away, ignoring Henry calling my name as he burst out of the front door of Captain Tony's. I couldn't help my tears and just let them fall onto my bare thighs, staring out at the world passing by in a blur. I was going home to pack, call TJ, and go home, because Janie was right.

A week of experimentation when I was nineteen was different than a woman almost-thirty doing what I was doing. I couldn't go back—I wasn't that innocent, naïve girl anymore. I was turning into some wanton slut whose only motivation was, apparently, pure pleasure. Was that who I was? 

No. Even if it meant losing TJ—my breath went away at the thought and it made me cry harder—this little reunion had to end before anyone got seriously hurt. I, for one, had been hurt more than enough.

I paid the cabbie when he pulled up at the house and just gave him a brief nod when he said, "Hope your night gets better," as I got out. 

If I'd had my own room to run to, I think the whole thing would have ended then and there. I'm sure I would have locked the door, packed, and called TJ on my way to the airport before anyone even knew I'd gone. 

But when I got into the house, Doc was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching a movie. I stood in the doorway, hyper-aware of how awful I must look, and he frowned when he looked up and saw me. I couldn't help but think of the last time I'd come back to the house, a million years ago when I was just a kid, and found Doc alone. I couldn't help but remember, and I think he did, too.

He was holding me before I could speak, crossing the expanse of the room and pulling me into the circle of arms, whispering softness and kindness into my ears. "Ronnie, Ronnie, sweet Ronnie, it's okay, whatever it is, it's okay."

I didn't believe him, not really, but I wanted to, and instead of doing what I should have done, instead of pushing him away and running as far and fast as I could back to my life, my family, my husband, I wrapped my arms around his waist and sobbed against his shirt. 

"I don't know what to do," I choked as he led me back toward the couch and pulled me into his lap. If I hadn't already felt transported back in time to the young, helpless girl I'd been, that would have done it. I rested my head on his shoulder as he rocked me and I cried.

"What is it?" he asked, pulling the tail of his shirt out to wipe at my tears. "Tell me. You can tell me."

"I feel like I'm doing everything wrong, "I sniffed. "Everyone seems to want something different from me, and I can't please everyone. I can't please anyone!"

He nodded, wiping my tears again—they wouldn't stop falling—and kissing my forehead. "Is this about you and TJ?"

I looked at him, frowning. "Carrie told you?"

"You're married, you know what it's like." He smiled softly. "Did you really expect her not to tell her husband?"

"I guess not." I shrugged, looking away, embarrassed now, wondering just how much he knew. 

"He's not asking for more because you're not enough." His words made my breath stop. I shook my head. "That makes no sense."

"If it was just sex, he'd go find it somewhere else, you know." Doc's eyes were dark as he looked at me and I remembered how I used to melt whenever he looked at me. "He wouldn't consult you at all."

I thought of Brian and the redhead in the bar. He was just a kid, of course—but cheating was cheating, right? Doc was right about that. If TJ wanted to... I frowned at the thought, shaking my head, trying to make sense of it.

"Sometimes we have so much love to give...it feels like we'll explode if we don't share it." Doc's words were soft and simple. He spoke as if he were explaining something to a child, and I felt like one.

"But...isn't it wrong?" 

He smiled softly. "Do you think it's wrong?"

"It feels wrong." I sounded petulant and felt that way, too.

"Does it? Why?"

I shrugged. "Because I feel... guilty. Like I'm betraying my marriage."

"You can't betray your marriage if both of you agree that what you're doing isn't a betrayal," he replied simply. 

I shook my head, swallowing hard around the lump in my throat. "Why does he want this? I don't understand..." I looked into his eyes, searching for answers there. "Why did you want me?"

"Because I loved you," he replied softly. "I wanted you because you were young and beautiful and I loved you."

"Well...I believe the first part, I guess... although I'm not young and beautiful anymore..." I frowned, remembering. 

"Oh yes you are...both." He chuckled. "And I still love you."

"You love me?" I sighed. "Like, what? A daughter? A sister? A wife?"

"Like a lover." His thumb rubbed over my chin, making me shiver. "You loved me, too, you know."

Of course I had. I'd loved them both, and Gretchen too. I couldn't help it. But I was a kid then, and I was a grown-up now. Grown ups made choices. Grown ups narrowed their lives with choices—that was part of being a grown-up.

Doc spoke, almost as if he could read my thoughts. "When you have kids...you only have the one daughter, right?" I nodded. "Sometimes when you have another, you wonder if you're going to be able to love that child as much as the first. I loved Janie to pieces and thought I couldn't love another human being like that. It felt impossible. And then Henry came along, and he was just as amazing, but different, you know? You love them differently, because they're so unique, but it's still love. You find you have more than enough room in your heart for another. Your heart has an infinite capacity to love."

I understood the concept, but there was just one thing wrong with the theory. "But spouses aren't children."

"No," he agreed. "But the concept is the same, as long as you both agree that it's something you want. It's like anything in a marriage, you learn to negotiate and compromise. Are you telling me you don't want what he does?"