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Babysitting the Baumgartners © 2008 by Selena Kitt
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First Edition 2008
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Babysitting the Baumgartners
By Selena Kitt
I was fifteen when I started babysitting for the Baumgartners. They had two kids. Henry and Janie were four and five the first time I sat in their living room eating pizza and watching “Lilo and Stitch” with them. I still remember them that way, both conked out on the floor, their greasy faces smearing their mom's white carpet.
I loved babysitting for them. Mr. Baumgartner—"Call me Doc, everybody does"—usually came home drunk enough to pay me way too much for the night. Mrs. Baumgartner—she never said to call her anything but Mrs. Baumgartner, although I did shorten it to "Mrs. B" over the years—was very pretty and very nice and kept really good ice cream (Häagen-Dazs) in the freezer. They had a huge TV, an enormous house, and I became their regular babysitter every Friday night, sometimes Saturdays, too, all through high school.
My parents complained they never saw me on weekends, and would ask “Where are you going now?” as I headed out the door, calling back, “I’m babysitting the Baumgartners!”
“Again?”
Mr. and Mrs. B liked to go out. And I liked the magazines and clothes I could buy with all my extra babysitting money. I never had to flip burgers like my sister, Amy. The Baumgartners even sold me my first car, a 2001 Saturn, at a price far less than I would have been given anywhere else—Mrs. B said Doc was just tired of picking me up and driving me home.
I used to have my little sister, Amy, go babysit whenever I had a conflict. That usually meant I had a date—and the Baumgartners hated it when I started dating. Really, it was a hardship for me, too. Tough call—a date with Toby Lumetto, or babysitting the Baumgartners? Amy complained the kids never behaved for her, but they always did for me. They were great kids.
I loved the Baumgartners and they loved me.
The winter of the year I graduated high school, the Baumgartners went to Key West. When they came back, Mrs. Baumgartner swore she’d never do it again without help. Henry was seven and Janie was eight, and they were "too much of a handful," she said. Just kids, I thought, but I wasn't their parent—I was pretty much their playmate—so what did I know?
The next winter, Mrs. Baumgartner called and asked if I wanted to come with them—all expenses paid, over the Christmas holiday—a free trip to Key West! It took me about five seconds to say "Yes!" to that proposition. My parents hemmed and hawed about it, but I was over eighteen by then, and I could pretty much do what I wanted...technically. I finally got their blessing, packed my bags, and we were off to the land of sunshine and bikinis!
Up until then, I’d sort of thought of the Baumgartners as surrogate parents, but it was during the trip to Key West when things changed. The Baumgartners became more to me—much more—and that wasn’t all that changed. Everything changed that summer.
If I’d known… I don’t know. But I had no idea at the time how transformative the trip would be, then and even later in my life.
Chapter One
December in the Midwest wasn't exactly tanning weather, and I wanted to come back and show off, sleek and brown as a seal. I had a bathing suit, of course, yellow and white, fairly respectable, since I was going to be taking the kids to the beach. It did have a bikini top but boy-shorts bottoms. I left the micro-suit at home. I figured Mrs. Baumgartner wouldn't approve.
Shows you what I knew.
The morning after we arrived, Mrs. Baumgartner came out and joined me on the beach. I was supervising the kids, who were busy making some sort of sand castle—really, it was more of a sand village, as it already spanned half the beach! What I was really doing was trying to read a Nora Roberts novel while simultaneously working on my nonexistent tan, but I was bored.
That ended the minute Mrs. Baumgartner walked out of the house. I glanced up as she slid the doorwall closed behind her, and I was glad she paused to look at her reflection in the glass, working to pull her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, because my jaw practically hit the sand. I didn't know what she would have said about me wearing the little white micro-bikini I’d left in my drawer at home, but for a moment, I simply couldn’t hide my shock when Mrs. Baumgartner stepped out of the house wearing her own black micro-suit!
No one out here to see here – why not? I rationalized it as I watched her adjust the bikini strings. The house was right on the ocean and we had a private beach. Mr. Baumgartner said it was a timeshare. Henry and Janie had wanted to swim immediately and, it felt like, all the time, so I’d already spent tons of hours trying to soak up some sun. My skin was pale next to Mrs. Baumgartner’s though, and for the life of me, I couldn’t see a tan line on her body. Of course, her backside was completely exposed in her suit, and the front covered…very little.
I averted my eyes as she laid out a large blanket on the white sand next to my towel. "How are you feeling, Veronica?" She was the only one who ever called me by my full name. Everyone else called me "Ronnie."
"Better." I put my book down and turned over onto my back. We'd ordered pizza the night before, after we’d unpacked, and something on it hadn’t agreed with me. I shaded my eyes and looked over at the kids. They were now having a sand fight, screeching and throwing shovels of the white stuff at each other. I sighed. I knew someone was gonna start screaming any minute about sand in their eyes or their suit, and then I’d have to go to work.
"Henry and Janie, you need to go in the house!" Mrs. Baumgartner called, stretching out on her stomach on the blanket.
"I can take care of them, Mrs. B." Her bikini thong left her bronzed, rounded bottom completely exposed. I blinked fast and looked away. "That's what I'm here for, right?"
The kids stopped at their mother's warning and treaded through the sand toward us. They really were great kids. I wished sometimes my sisters and I got along as well as they did.
"Why don't you two go inside?" Mrs. Baumgartner said as they approached. "There's lunch on the counter, and Daddy hooked up the X-Box."
"Woot!" Henry whooped, kicking up sand as he headed for the doorwall. Janie didn't look as thrilled, but the promise of lunch was enough to lure her into the house.
"You know, watching the kids isn't all you're here for, Veronica." Mrs. Baumgartner turned her face to me after they went in, resting her cheek on her folded arms. "Doc and I were just talking last night about how much you've done for us over the years. The kids adore you. You're like part of the family."
I flushed. "Thanks."
"You deserve a good vacation." She smiled, her eyes creasing at the corners. I wondered how old she was. It was hard for me to judge how old people were—to me, they just seemed either old or young. Mrs. B wasn't really either. "It's the least we can do."
"If I can get a tan, that will be reward enough." I grabbed the oil next to my towel and poured some into my hands. I worked more of it into my thighs and over my smooth, flat belly. I noticed her watching me. "Do you want some?"
"Sure." She took the bottle and sat up to squeeze a pool of glistening liquid into her palm, rubbing it over her shoulders and arms. I slipped my boy short bottoms aside, checking for a tan line. I actually had one, which was thrilling, although it wasn't as dark as I wanted it to be.
"You can take it off." Mrs. Baumgartner untied her black bikini top around the neck and I stared as she started to spread oil over her full, naked breasts.
I knew I was staring, but I couldn't help it. Her skin was smooth and tawny—even there. Her nipples were brown, vastly different from my light pink ones.
"Wh—what?" I stammered. I was still staring. She smoothed oil over her belly, which was softer and a little more rounded than mine, working it under the strings of her bikini and down into the grooves of her thighs.
"Your top." She massaged oil into her thighs and calves. "You can take it off—so you won't have any tan lines."
She lay on her back on the blanket, glancing over at me. I must have looked shocked. "No one can see, Veronica. It's a private beach—just us."
"What about the kids?" I looked over my shoulder at the house.
"One word: X-Box." She adjusted herself, opening her thighs a little. I couldn't see a hint of hair under the triangle of cloth between her legs and wondered at it. Her body was fuller than mine, more rounded and soft. "I won't look. Don't be shy."
Her eyes stayed closed and I hesitated, looking up and down the beach. Then I pulled my top aside and checked my tan line—I was definitely getting one! Mrs. B's breasts were so large that they kind of sloped off to the side when she leaned back. I was a little intimidated—mine were nowhere near as big—but it was the smooth, almost bronze color of her flesh that really convinced me. I wanted a tan without lines, too!
I untied my top and slipped it off, reaching for the oil. Squeezing some into my hands, I leaned back and rubbed it into the swell of my breasts. It felt strange to be outside half-naked in full daylight—I hadn't gone topless on a beach since I was Janie's age. My nipples were small, pale pink pebbles on a puffy, rounded areola, and with the stimulation from my hands rubbing the oil on and the gentle breeze blowing in from the ocean, they were quite hard.
Mrs. B hummed something to herself, but I didn't know the tune. The rhythmic sound of the waves against the shore had me drifting in and out. Far away, I heard a dog bark.
The heat of the sun made me sweat, and I felt it mixing with the oil and trickling down my sides. It beaded between my breasts. When I snuck a look over at Mrs. B, I noticed the same thing, only it was more pronounced on her already tanned skin. I adjusted myself on the towel, straightening out the edges where they had blown up at the corners.
Mrs. B shaded her eyes and peered at me with a smile. "Why don't you come over here? There's plenty of room on the blanket and a lot less sand." I considered it for a moment and then stood, hopping from my little towel over to the larger blanket so as not to get too much sand on my feet. Settling down beside her on my back, I felt the heat from her skin, but we weren't touching.
"You have lovely breasts," she murmured, and I felt her shoulder pressing against mine where it hadn't been a moment ago.
"Th—thanks." I was glad it was so warm to hide my flush. What did you say to someone who said that? "You do, too."
"I wish I still had the body of a nineteen-year-old." She gave a sad little laugh. "So firm and tight. There's not a crease or a wrinkle on you, is there?"
Now I was really flushing. "I think you have a beautiful body. When I have two kids, I hope I can still wear a bikini out on the beach. And a micro one, at that!"
She turned her face to mine, smiling at me. "Well, thank you for the compliment." I saw her eyes move down over my breasts, and I was aware of how hard my nipples were.
The conversation was making me feel dizzy and very warm. Maybe it was the heat—but I was pretty sure it was the conversation—that, and the fact I was lying half-naked next to Mrs. Baumgartner, her thigh now pressing against mine. She’d always been friendly and flirty with me—she was that way with everyone. But this was different. Very different. Our flesh was slick and oily together when she shifted, and it sent a gentle pulse beating between my legs, keeping a fast time against the sound of the waves on the shoreline.
"Do you have a micro-bikini?" Mrs. B’s eyes were closed again. I stared at her body, the generous swell of her copper-colored flesh, her big, dark nipples. Hers were hard, too.
"Yeah," I said. "But I left it at home. I didn't think it would be... appropriate."
"You can borrow one of mine." Her thigh slid along mine as she adjusted on the blanket. "If you want less of a tan line. I brought several."
"Thanks." I watched her breasts rising and falling, glistening in the sun. Her belly was beaded with sweat and oil.
"Do you shave?"
"Wh—what?"
"Do you shave?" she repeated, opening one eye to look at me. "I wax, myself. It's much easier and takes care of things for a lot longer down there, if you know what I mean."
"No." I snapped my eyes closed.
"Oh, to wear a micro, you just have to." She half-sat and touched my thigh, pulling my bathing suit bottoms aside a little to reveal the line of dark pubic hair. "Yep, you'd definitely need to shave. Or I brought some wax. You could wax it all. I do."
Shocked, I stared at her. I didn't know what I was more surprised by, her revelation or the fact she’d just nonchalantly pulled my bikini aside!
"It's actually fun." She winked. "Not the waxing part—but having a shaved pussy."
I stared right up at the sun, blinking a few times so it made bright spots in the dark when I closed my eyes. I couldn't believe Mrs. Baumgartner had just said the word "pussy" in front of me!
"Doc loves it." I felt her hand against my hip, just resting there. "And it's so incredible to walk around that way. You feel so exposed. It's a constant turn-on."
"Mrs. B..." I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say.
"I'd be happy to help you." Her fingers moved over the elastic tops of my bikini bottoms. "It's hard to do a bikini wax on yourself."
I put my arms up over my head, tilting my head back and looking around as if someone might be there to overhear this crazy conversation—someone I might share my astonishment with.
"You think about it." Her hand lightly stroked my side. I felt that gentle throbbing between my thighs, more insistent now.
"Okay," was all I could say.
There was someone on the balcony, high above us. It was Mr. Baumgartner—Doc—sitting outside on one of the white deck chairs. He was completely naked. When I got over that shock, I noticed his hand moving up and down between his legs—very fast.
Was he? Is he?
Mr. B’s hand was warm against my side, just resting there. It made my breasts tingle, and I flushed when I realized I wanted her to touch them—to touch me. I wanted to close my eyes and my mind against the thought, but the blur of motion above drew my attention again. I knew I shouldn’t be watching, but I couldn’t help it.
Could he see us? I wondered. Was he up there, touching himself, looking down at his wife and the babysitting, lying topless on the beach together?
That’s when he stood. I nearly gasped out loud as I watched thick, white streams of fluid erupt from the tip of his engorged cock and splash down onto the balcony and the railing.
His eyes never left mine.
"Mrs. B." My voice trembled as I sat up. "I'm gonna go cool off. I'll be right back."
I stood, not sure I could stand, but I did, forgetting I was topless. I walked, a little unsteady, toward the water and waded out into the cool waves, up to my neck. When I looked back, Mr. Baumgartner was gone, but Mrs. B was still watching me, shading her eyes from the sun.
When she waved, I waved back, feeling that steady, rhythmic pulse between my thighs. The coolness of the water only served to make the heat between my legs more pronounced. I floated on my back, watching the clouds drift, letting the waves rock me and once in a while overtake me. When I finally had the courage to get out, Mrs. B had gone into the house, and the beach was empty again.
Chapter Two
When I came back in the house, Henry and Janie were fighting over the X-Box controller, remains of lunch—peanut butter and jelly—still smeared on their faces. The air conditioning was on, and it was very cool compared to outside. I actually got goosebumps within minutes of walking in the door.
"Where's your mom and dad?"
Janie looked up at me, and Henry took the opportunity to yank the controller from her. "Hey!" she protested. "They're upstairs taking a nap. They told us to stay here until you got back in the house."
Henry started the game, and while Janie was pouting, she was also relenting, getting involved in whatever was happening on the screen.
"Well, what do you guys want to do?" No answer—just blank stares at the television. "Looks like X-Box wins. I'm going to go take a shower, okay?"
They both nodded, their mouths partly open as they stared at the screen. Little video game zombies. At eight and nine, they were pretty self-sufficient. I didn't understand why Mrs. Baumgartner had such a hard time with them, really. To me, they seemed like easy kids.
I climbed the stairs and went down the hall toward the bathroom. They had a large Jacuzzi tub—which I was dying to soak in one night—and a separate shower. I turned on the water, adjusting the temperature, and peeled off my suit, tossing it into the sink. It felt good to soap up and wash the oil and salt water off my body.
I stood under the needling spray for a long time. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mr. Baumgartner's hand moving, lightning fast, up and down the length of his cock. It gave me a tight, funny feeling in my belly. That throbbing between my legs hadn't quit.
When I slipped the soap between my thighs, rubbing it over the soft, curly hair there, I remembered what Mrs. B said about waxing and flushed. I didn't have much hair to begin with, just a sparse, dark triangular patch. What would it feel like to be completely smooth?
I slipped my fingers past my swollen lips, remembering how soft and slick Mrs. B's oiled-up thigh was against mine, how dark and hard her nipples. My clit ached at the thought and I touched it, rubbing it slowly under my fingers.
The image which kept coming back to me, though, was Mr. Baumgartner and his cock—his eyes locked on mine as he came. It made me embarrassed and excited to know seeing me and his wife lying together on the beach topless was enough to get him aroused—to get him off. Was he imagining something, or just watching us, or both?
I knew I shouldn't be thinking about it, but I couldn't help it. The more I thought about it, the faster my fingers moved over my clit. Leaning back against the tiles, I rubbed and rubbed it. The water made my nipples tingle. The images of the afternoon flashed through my mind—Mrs. B's fingers pulling my bikini aside to look at my pubic hair, the swell and shift of her heavy breasts, the way the oil and water pooled on her tanned skin, the way her eyes lingered on my chest and belly and thighs.
Moaning softly, I slipped one finger inside my pussy, rocking against my hand and feeling a low hum building in my lower belly. That steady throb between my legs which had begun outside in the sun was like a fast, heavy drumbeat now keeping time with my pounding heart. Was he really watching us that whole time? Could he hear us? How long had he been sitting there, stroking himself?
The sight of his cock, bursting like a spewing geyser over his fist, the pleasure on his face, the way his eyes met mine—oh God, I couldn't stand it. I shuddered and moaned and arched against the tiles as I came, remembering his dark eyes, his pumping hand, his bucking hips and spurting cock.
Flushed from my orgasm and the heat of the shower, I knelt in the tub, turning off the water. I rested my hot cheek against the cool tile for a moment, closing my eyes and feeling the waves of pleasure slowly receding. I felt shy and embarrassed to see him, now, wondering what I would say, what he might say.
When my legs felt steady enough to hold me, I got out of the shower and dried off, wrapping myself in one of the big white bath sheets. My room was across the hall from the bathroom, and the Baumgartner's was the next room over. The kids' rooms were at the other end of the hallway.
As I made my way across the hall, I heard Mrs. B's voice from behind their door. "You want that tight little nineteen-year-old pussy, Doc?"
I stopped, my heart leaping, my breath caught. Oh my God. Were they talking about me? He said something, but it was low, and I couldn't quite make it out. Then she said, "Just wait until I wax it for you. It'll be soft and smooth as a baby."
Shocked, I reached down between my legs, cupping my pussy as if to protect it, standing there transfixed, listening. I stepped closer to their door, seeing it wasn't completely closed, still trying to hear what they were saying. There wasn't any noise, now.
"Oh God!" I heard him groan. "Suck it harder."
My eyes wide, I felt the pulse returning between my thighs, a slow, steady heat. Was she sucking his cock? I remembered what it looked like in his hand—even from a distance, I could tell it was big—much bigger than any of the boys I'd ever been with.
"Ahhhh fuck, Carrie!" He moaned. I bit my lip, hearing Mrs. B's first name felt so wrong, somehow. "Take it all, baby!"
All?! My jaw dropped as I tried to imagine, pressing my hand over my throbbing mound. Mrs. B said something, but I couldn't hear it, and as I leaned toward the door, I bumped it with the towel wrapped around my hair. My hand went to my mouth and I took an involuntary step back as the door edged open just a crack. I turned to go to my room, but I knew that they would hear the sound of my door.
"You want to fuck me, baby?" she purred. "God, I'm so wet...did you see her sweet little tits?"
"Fuck, yeah," he murmured. "I wanted to come all over them."
Hearing his voice, I stepped back toward the door, peering through the crack. The bed was behind the door, at the opposite angle, but there was a large vanity table and mirror against the other wall, and I could see them reflected in it. Mrs. B was completely naked, kneeling over him. I saw her face, her breasts swinging as she took him into her mouth. His cock stood straight up in the air.
"She's got beautiful tits, doesn't she?" Mrs. B ran her tongue up and down the shaft.
"Yeah." His hand moved in her hair, pressing her down onto his cock. "I want to see her little pussy so bad. God, she's so beautiful."
"Do you want to see me eat it?" She moved up onto him, still stroking his cock. "Do you want to watch me lick that sweet, shaved cunt?"
I pressed a cool palm to my flushed cheek, but my other hand rubbed the towel between my legs as I watched. I’d never heard anyone say that word out loud and it both shocked and excited me.
"Oh God, yeah!" He grabbed her tits as they swayed over him. I saw her riding him, and knew he must be inside of her. "I want inside her tight little cunt."
I moved the towel aside and slipped my fingers between my lips.
He’s talking about me!
The thought made my whole body tingle, and my pussy felt on fire. Already slick and wet from my orgasm in the shower, my fingers slid easily through my slit.
"I want to fuck her while she eats your pussy." He thrust up into her, his hands gripping her hips. Her breasts swayed as they rocked together. My eyes widened at the image he conjured, but Mrs. B moaned, moving faster on top of him.
"Yeah, baby!" She leaned over, her breasts dangling in his face. His hands went to them, his mouth sucking at her nipples, making her squeal and slam down against him even harder. "You want her on her hands and knees, her tight little ass in the air?"
He groaned, and I rubbed my clit even faster as he grabbed her and practically threw her off him onto the bed. She seemed to know what he wanted, because she got onto her hands and knees and he fucked her like that, from behind. The sound of them, flesh slapping against flesh, filled the room.
They were turned toward the mirror, but Mrs. B had her face buried in her arms, her ass lifted high in the air. Doc's eyes looked down between their legs, like he was watching himself slide in and out of her.
"Fuck!" Mrs. B's voice was muffled. "Oh fuck, Doc! Make me come!"
He grunted and drove into her harder. I watched her shudder and grab the covers in her fists. He didn't stop, though—his hands grabbed her hips and he worked himself into her over and over. I felt weak-kneed and full of heat, my fingers rubbing my aching clit in fast little circles. Mrs. B's orgasm had almost sent me right over the edge. I was very, very close.
"That tight nineteen-year-old cunt!" He shoved into her. "I want to taste her." He slammed into her again. "Fuck her." And again. "Make her come." And again. "Make her scream until she can't take anymore."
I leaned my forehead against the doorjamb for support, trying to control how fast my breath was coming, how fast my climax was coming, but I couldn't. I whimpered, watching him fuck her and knowing he was imagining me...me!
"Come here." He pulled out and Mrs. B turned around like she knew what he wanted. "Swallow it."
He knelt up on the bed as she pumped and sucked at his cock. I saw the first spurt land against her cheek, a thick white strand of cum, and then she covered the head with her mouth and swallowed, making soft mewing noises in her throat. I came then, too, shuddering and shivering against the doorframe, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
When I opened my eyes and came to my senses, Mrs. B was still on her hands and knees, focused between his legs—but Doc was looking right at me, his dark eyes on mine.
He saw me. For the second time today—he saw me.
My hand flew to my mouth and I stumbled back, fumbling for the doorknob behind me I knew was there. I finally found it, slipping into my room and shutting the door behind me. I leaned against it, my heart pounding, my pussy dripping, and wondered what I was going to do now.
Chapter Three
I buried my red, flushed face into the coolness of my pillow and decided I wasn't going to leave my room. I just couldn't face them, after what had happened. When Mrs. B knocked on my door for dinner, I told her I wasn't feeling well again.
"Anything I can get you?" she asked kindly.
I shook my head and called a muffled, "No!" into my pillow.
Downstairs, they played games, talking, laughing. I heard Janie and Henry fighting over the X-Box again, but then Doc turned it off and put in Monty Python, which had them both laughing hysterically. It wasn't something I thought I’d let my eight and nine year old watch, but I wasn't their parent, what did I know? I was just the babysitter.
Some babysitter—hiding up in her room! I just couldn't imagine looking into his eyes, knowing he had seen me masturbating in their doorway while I watched them have sex. What must he think of me, now?
My face burned at the thought, but the images of them together kept coming back to me, again and again. I couldn't stop remembering how her breasts had swayed when he pounded into her, how she had turned around to swallow his cum, like she couldn't get enough.
I wasn't a virgin, but all of my experiences with boys had been mostly basement or back seat fumblings, quick and mildly pleasurable. I’d never heard or seen anything like what Mr. and Mrs. B were doing in their bedroom this afternoon.
I was so lost in my own world I didn't even bother to get dressed. I just tossed my wet towel on the floor and curled up under the covers. I think I drifted off. The heat of the sun had made me sleepy and a little lethargic.
My dreams were about Doc, seeing him stroking his cock over my breasts, rubbing the fat, bulbous tip over my hard, pink nipples. He kept whispering, "I want to come all over you, Ronnie. I want to come all over your sweet little tits."
When I woke up, my pussy throbbed with the images from my dream, the light had faded to near-dim, and I couldn't hear the kids anymore. Someone knocked at my door, and I realized that was what must have woken me.
"Come in."
It was Mrs. B, and she carried a cup of tea she set next to me on the night table. I felt her hand in my hair, brushing it away from my eyes.
"How are you feeling?" She sat on the edge of the bed behind me.
"A little better." I turned my face to her.
"I brought you some tea," she said, and I felt her weight shifting.
"Thanks."
"What hurts?" she asked. "Is it your tummy?" I nodded, closing my eyes as she traced her fingers over my forehead. "Here, move over." I stiffened for a moment, feeling her curling herself around me. "Let me rub it. Sometimes it helps."
"Mrs. B," I whispered, but her hand slid over the comforter, massaging my belly through the material.
She smelled sweet, and I knew she must have taken a shower, too, after sunbathing. We'd both been so oiled up and sweaty. Remembering how she looked, rubbing oil into her breasts and then lying topless next to me, made me shiver.
"Better?" she murmured, her mouth close to my ear.
I shook my head. "No."
"Well, here." She slid her hand under the covers. "Maybe like this." I swallowed hard as Mrs. B's hand slid below my navel, rubbing the taut, flat surface of my belly. She was gentle, tender, rubbing it in slow, easy circles.
"Is it your period?" Her fingers moved a little further down. They touched the top of my pubic hair now.
"No."
She continued to knead my flesh, and I felt her breath against my cheek. Her arm brushed across the side of my breast with her motion, making me tingle. She must have known I was completely naked under the covers.
I turned a little toward her, and now my nipple rubbed against her upper arm as she moved her fingers lower, bit by bit. Her hand slipped over my pubic bone. I felt my breath coming faster and tried to control it. Her breasts pressed tight against my back. I felt the generous swell and shift of them when she moved.
"Better yet?" She kissed my cheek. The light had grown dimmer, and I could barely see her outline now, but I felt the weight and heat of her behind me.
"A little.” I shifted on the bed and felt her fingers dip between my already swollen, wet lips. Gasping, I pulled away from her hand.
"It's okay." She put her whole hand over my mound. "This might make you feel better."
I drew a shaky breath. Her hand just massaged me, covering my lips, her fingers not moving inside. I sighed, closing my eyes. It felt so good I could barely stand it. Her arm moved over my nipple as she worked her hand slowly between my legs. I let out a little moan, squirming under her.
I turned a little more towards her. Her mouth was right there, so close I felt her breath on my face. She smelled of beer or alcohol, and something sweet that was just the scent of her. "I have to tell you something."
"What is it?" Her palm rocked between my thighs. I gasped, biting my lip to keep from crying out. My pussy was wet and throbbing and aching for some sort of release. She pressed her cheek to mine, and her lips were soft there, inches from my own.
"This afternoon..." I moaned when she started making circles between my legs, moving her hand around and around on my mound and rubbing the flesh of my lips over the sensitive bud of my clit.
"Yes?" she encouraged, moving her hand a little faster.
"Oh, God," I whispered against her cheek, shivering. "Please."
"What is it, Veronica?"
When I closed my eyes, I saw Doc fucking her, plunging his cock into her from behind. It sent a jolt straight between my legs.
"I saw you," I confessed quickly. "This afternoon, in your room... you and Doc..."
Her hand slowed, and I felt a thick pulse throbbing under her fingers. "I know, sweetie...it's okay."
I could barely breathe. "You know?"
"Yes." Her lips pressed against the side of my mouth as she talked, and I felt their softness, their tender movement against my skin. "Doc told me. He saw you."
"Oh God." I moaned, not sure if it was in embarrassment or pleasure.
"Shhhh." She rubbed her lips over mine, not really a kiss, more just a caress. "It's going to be ok."
Her hand moved between my legs again. I whimpered. "Oh, please."
A knock sounded at the door and we both jumped. I pulled the covers up to my chin and Mrs. B sat up on the bed.
"Come in," I called.
The door opened, spilling light from the hallway. It was Doc, his large frame filling the doorway.
"How're my girls?" He leaned against the door frame.
I blushed. "Okay. I'm feeling a little better. Mrs. B brought me some tea."
He came over and sat on the other side of the bed, putting his hand on my hip. "Glad to hear it. It's no good being sick on vacation. You're here to have fun."
"Yeah." I agreed, feeling his big hand massaging my hip through the blanket. It sent tingles straight into my pelvis where my pussy was still wet and aching from Mrs. B's massage.
"You get some rest." He moved his fingers under my chin. "You'll feel better tomorrow."
"Thanks," I murmured, almost sad when he moved his hand and stood.
"Come on, Carrie." He held out his hand. "Let's get to bed and let her rest."
Mrs. B stood, following her husband. "Good night."
"Thank you," I called as they went out, shutting the door.
I breathed a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. I didn't know what to think, what to feel. I rolled over onto my belly, hugging my pillow, my pussy burning between my thighs, aching to be touched. I tried to ignore it and sleep, but the more I did, the more restless I became.
I heard Mr. and Mrs. B laughing and talking in their bedroom. I tossed and turned on the bed, trying to find a cool spot, a comfortable position.
Finally, I got up, deciding to draw a bath. Tonight was as good a night as any to try out that big Jacuzzi tub. I pulled my robe on and found my towel on the floor. It was still damp, so I hung it over the end of the bed, deciding to get a new one from the linen closet.
"That's the taste of her pussy, baby." I heard Mrs. B's voice when I peeked out my door. I saw a light on in their room, coming from a crack in the door. "Go ahead, taste it."
"Oh my God," he murmured, and I closed my eyes, hearing a sucking sound. "You had your fingers in her?"
"Not quite," Mrs. B said. "Almost. I was just...rubbing her ouchie tummy for her."
Doc chuckled. "God, she tastes so good. I want to eat that sweet little cunt."
Flushing, I pressed my hand between my legs, feeling the incredible heat there. I knew they were talking about me.
"Me first, Doc," Mrs. B pouted. "I want to taste her, too."
I closed my eyes, slipping a hand under the soft flap of my robe and dipping a finger between my swollen lips. Shivering when I touched my clit, I let my fingers stay there for a moment, nudging it a little.
"We can share," Doc replied, his voice low.
I heard sucking sounds again and stepped out of my door and a little closer to theirs. The door was open just a little bit again and I could see them in the mirror. Mrs. B straddled his belly and he sucked greedily at her fingers.
Flushing, a heat spreading over my chest, I realized he was tasting my juices on her fingers. Curious, I lifted my own fingers to my mouth, sucking on them quietly. It was a musky tang that coated my throat when I swallowed. Is that what every woman tasted like? I wondered. Is that what Mrs. B tasted like? Oh my God, I couldn't believe I was even thinking about it. I backed away from the door, determined to go take my bath and leave them their privacy.
"Do you really think she'll do it?" I heard Doc ask. I stopped, closing my eyes.
"I think so," Mrs. B replied, her voice muffled. I turned back to the door, leaning in to see her kneeling between his legs now, his cock moving in and out of her mouth.
Do what? I wondered, watching in fascination as he disappeared between her lips over and over. As she sucked him, I found myself aching to know what his cock felt like in my mouth. His hands moved in her hair, pressing her down further and further.
"God, I hope so!" He groaned as she came up on his cock, licking around the tip like an ice cream cone. My fingers found their way between my fleshy lips, searching for my aching clit and finding it. "Now that I've tasted that sweet little pussy, I want more."
"You'll have to settle for mine tonight," she purred, moving up and straddling his face.
"You're never settling, sweetie."
I watched, my eyes wide, as he grabbed her hips and she began to grind, moaning. She rocked and rocked on him, her heavy breasts swaying. Her fingers found her own nipples, rolling them, her head going back, her long blonde hair brushing his chest.
My breath came fast, and I lifted my fingers up to my own nipples, squeezing and rolling them like she was. The sensation sent heat through my whole body, making my pussy buzz with delicious warmth. I wished I had three hands as I kept one tweaking my nipple and slid the other back down between my legs.
Oh God, my pussy was so wet! I wanted to come, hard and fast, but I didn't want to stop watching them. Mrs. B trembled, calling his name and saying things I'd never heard anyone say out loud before.
"Yes!" she moaned. "Eat my cunt, baby. Oh fuck, don't stop!"
I heard him, muffled, between her thighs, and wondered how he could possibly even breathe. His hand was between his own legs, shuttling up and down the length of his cock. I didn't know where to look—her swaying breasts and rocking hips, or his hard, red cock, just starting to get wet at the tip.
"Ohhh God!" she cried. "I'm gonna come all over your face!"
I bit my lip, easing up on my clit just a little, or I would have come with her right then. She shuddered and leaned her palms against the wall above her head to catch herself. I noticed Doc squeezing his cock hard, groaning between her legs, and I heard her wetness, or maybe it was the sound of his mouth on her. Either way, it made me dizzy with lust.
"Oh God." Her body shook as she climbed off of him. "You have the best tongue, Doc."
"Is that all you want me for?" He chuckled, his hand stroking again, lazy. I nudged my clit with my finger, back and forth, as I watched him.
"No," she purred, moving his hand out of the way and stroking him herself. "You have the best cock, too."
"Good enough to eat?"
"Always." She moved down and took him back into her mouth. Her body was in the way, and I couldn't see his cock in the mirror anymore. I stretched on my tiptoes, straining to see past her bottom. It was up in the air, and I saw her lips, completely bare, just like she said they were. They were slick and glistening in the lamplight.
"Yeah, baby!" He moaned, and I saw his hand pressing her head down again. She was almost gagging on him but didn't seem to mind. "Deeper... come on... you can do it."
She moaned and her ass wiggled back and forth. As I watched, she slipped her hand between her legs and began to massage her smooth lips, round and round, just like she had rubbed me in the bedroom earlier.
I opened my robe a little more, bending over to look down between my legs at the dark triangle there. Making my palm flat over it, I began to rub, round and round. The sensation reminded me of her hand moving between my thighs and I leaned against the doorframe, rubbing faster as I watched.
Doc bucked up into her mouth on the bed, grunting and moaning, louder and louder. I whimpered, easing back on my rubbing a little, wanting it to last forever. I wanted to see him come again. From this angle, though, I knew I couldn't, and from the sounds of it, he was going to fill her mouth and make her swallow it again.
Almost like he knew, suddenly he was sitting up, rolling her over onto the bed and spreading her legs apart with his thighs. I could see everything now, the tip of his cock rubbing up and down her slick slit before he slid into her, his hips rocking as he held himself above her.
"Fuck me!" she growled, and I saw her hands digging hard into his ass, pulling him deeper into her. "You like that wet cunt squeezed around you, baby?"
He groaned, moving faster, driving deeper, and I felt myself edging near a point of no return. My fingers wouldn't stop moving against the tender bud of my clit, making delicious circles there, and my nipples were hard and poking straight out. I used my other hand to tweak them, first one, then the other.