Crazy About the Baumgartners (6 page)

I
moaned. I couldn’t help it. My pussy was on fire, spasming, my orgasm ripping
through me, my pussy making squelching noises as I fucked myself. I ached to
taste that cum in my throat, imagining all of our tongues fighting for it,
licking it off each other’s faces. My pussy clenched around my fingers and I
wished it was a hard cock buried deep, filling me again and again. Then I collapsed
onto the carpet in the slant of light coming from the bedroom door, shaking so
hard I didn’t think I could ever move on my own again.

“Such
good girls,” I heard Doc murmur. “God we’ve missed you, Dani.”

I
slid my hand out of my panties, lifting my fingers to my mouth to suck them. I
found myself wishing it was Mrs. B’s pussy I was tasting. I wanted to know what
those fat lips felt like in my mouth, her clit hard against my tongue. I could
smell the heat of my own pussy mixing with the scent of their sex. God, I loved
the smell of cum.

“Did
you hear something?” Mrs. B asked.

My
eyes flew open and I realized I could see them. Just their feet and
legs—they were all in a huddle on the bed—but if they sat up, they
could see me, practically passed out in the hallway, still panting from getting
myself off while I watched them have sex.

I
was in so much trouble.

“The
kids?” Doc asked, still sounding out of breath.

“Maybe.”

I
heard them shifting on the bed and sat up, glancing around. There was only one place
to go. I crawled quickly into my room—thank God the door was open and the
light was off—hiding behind the door. I heard someone walking down the
hall.

“Gretchen?”
Mrs. B called.

I
closed my eyes tight, willing my heart to stop in my chest, because I was sure
she could hear it beating. I held my breath, waiting to be discovered.

“Do
you see them?” Doc called.

“The
fire’s out. There’s no light in the tents. I think they’re sleeping,” Mrs. B
called. She was in the bathroom, looking into the backyard. I heard the toilet
flush, the sink running.

“Oh
I need a shower,” I heard Dani say as Mrs. B went back into the bedroom.

“Mm
let’s go get clean,” Doc said. “Then we can do it again and get all dirty.”

I
cowered behind the bedroom door, waiting for them all to go down the hall to
the bathroom. I waited until I heard the bathroom door close and the shower go
on. I waited longer, counting to a hundred-Mississippi. Twice. Then I heard the
sound of moaning from the bathroom and I knew the coast was really clear. They
were busy again.

My
pussy twinged as I hesitated outside of the bathroom door, imagining what was
going on in there, but I didn’t linger long. I crept back down the stairs and
outside, shutting the patio doors behind me. There was dew on the grass already
and I ran through it in my bare feet in the moonlight, shivering. I peeked
inside my tent, seeing Henry asleep, snoring just as loudly as he’d complained
Janie did. I smiled, zipping the mosquito netting back up and checking on
Janie. She was snoring too.

I
climbed inside her tent, forgoing my air mattress for the night. I would tell
Henry he’d been asleep when I brought out his iPod and I just decided to climb
in with Janie. And no one would ever know that I’d just watched their parents
have sex and masturbated until I came so hard I could barely see. No one would
ever know that I’d watched them have sex with another woman and I’d wished the
whole time it was me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* *
* *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I
will.” I nodded in agreement.

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

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

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

She
realized her error, stopping and looking at me.

“I’m
sorry, Gretch…”

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”
She smirked, meeting my eyes.

“Well.”
I shrugged. “I’m shaved.”

“Completely?”

“Yeah.”
I nodded.

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

I
smiled. “Maybe I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who
doesn’t love babies?” I asked.

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

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

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

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