Baumgartner Hot Shorts (19 page)

“Oh, my God!” She collapsed on the bed, resting her cheek against Daphne’s thigh.

“My turn,” Doc teased, making Carrie glance up at him and whimper.

Daphne laughed. “Are we switching back?”

“Not quite yet.” Doc nudged his wife aside and positioning himself between Daphne’s legs. “I want your tight little pussy first.”

Daphne moaned, taking his full length in one deep thrust. Carrie watched, breathless, her pussy still throbbing from her own climax, as her husband fucked Daphne. She felt Wilson’s weight beside her on the bed and she turned to him, smiling, almost shy now, even though just moments before he’d made her come so hard her ears were ringing.

“That was yummy.” She glanced down at his cock, seeing it pulsing against his thigh. “Mmmm. Now I wanna taste.”

“Oh, God.” Wilson rolled to his back as she wiggled herself between his thighs, beginning to lick him clean. He was coated with her from base to tip and Carrie found herself tracing the lines of his tattoo up to the ridge again and again.

“Please,” he whispered, his hand in her hair. “Carrie, please. Suck it.”

She took him fully into her mouth, slowly swallowing his length, hearing his groan. Beside them, Daphne had rolled Doc to his back and was riding him, rolling her hips forward and back, working his cock deep inside. His hands gripped her hips so hard his knuckles were white, his eyes half-closed, fighting some internal battle.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Wilson gasped, looking up at Daphne. She smiled at him, reaching out, and their palms touched, fingers entwined.

Carrie cupped his balls in her hand, rolling them gently as she sucked him, drawing his attention back to what she was doing. He looked down at her and moaned, shaking his head.

“And you’re so fucking gorgeous, it hurts.” His hips thrust up all on their own, aiming for the back of her throat.

Doc chuckled, glancing over at his friend. “How lucky are we?”

“I think we won the sex lottery,” Wilson exclaimed, watching his friend’s wife swallow the length of his cock.

Carrie smiled, looking up at Daphne, and she nodded, understanding her look, seeing how her friend’s hand clasped Wilson’s, bridging the distance between them.

“Come here, Daph.” Carrie took his tattooed cock out of her mouth. “Come fuck him.”

The redhead leaned over and kissed Doc, nice and slow, before sliding up his length and coming to straddle Wilson. He took charge easily, guiding her hips, letting Carrie aim his cock between her swollen pussy lips. Carrie glanced over at Doc, seeing him smiling.

Daphne cried out when he entered her, even though she’d been expecting it. Carrie watched her settle into the saddle of Wilson’s hips, her friend’s fiery pubic hair a contrast to Wilson’s dark nest. They were completely joined, whole, even their hands entwined, palm to palm, as they began to rock, their hips moving all on their own.

“Come here, minx.” Doc slapped Carrie’s behind, sticking up in the air as she leaned over to watch Wilson fuck her friend. “I want my wife.”

“You always had me.” She went to him, climbing up and sliding down his pole, already slick with Daphne’s pussy juices, making it all the more sweet.

“Mmmmmm, now that’s my girl.” Doc settled his thumbs into the indents of her hipbones, looking up at her and smiling. Beside them, Daphne and Wilson were already rocking the bed, their breath coming in short, harsh pants.

“Nice and easy.” Carrie rolled her hips in circles.

“Look.” Doc glanced over, seeing Daphne riding Wilson, her hips making the same motion. They were sexy as hell, Carrie had to admit, the two of them grinding and moaning and clinging to each other, but there was something else, and she knew Doc felt it, too. They’d brought the two of them here for Christmas, intending to give each other a gift, and instead had somehow given their friends a gift instead.

“I know.” Carrie smiled, leaning over to kiss her husband. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He kissed her back. “Now fuck me until I come up inside your hot little cunt so hard you can taste it.”

Carrie moaned, his tongue sucking at hers as he began to thrust, driving her up on the bed. He fucked her hard, so hard it almost hurt, but she didn’t care. Carrie gasped when Doc rolled her to her back and she saw that the couple beside them had changed position, Wilson shoving his cock in hard and deep.

“Fuck me,” Daphne begged, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Do it! Oh, fuck! Fuck me hard! Ohhhh!”

Carrie knew the sweet sound of her friend’s impending orgasm, feeling her own beginning to rise. She glanced up at Wilson, his eyes half-closed, sweat sheening the tattoos on his chest, his dark hair falling like a curtain, and then she looked at Doc, his eyes on her and her alone.

“Come on, baby,” Carrie urged, reaching down to feel his cock going into her, needing to touch that place where they were joined. “Make me come all over that big, hard dick.”

Doc took the challenge, spreading her thighs wider with his, the friction building between them, the heat unbearable. She rubbed the ridge of her clit, back and forth, circling, teasing, wanting it and not, loving that feeling of hovering just at the edge.

“Ohhhhh fuck, Daphne, your pussy is so fucking good!” Wilson cried, the whole mattress shaking with his thrusts. “Uh! Uh! Uhhhhhhh!”

Carrie reached for Doc, pulling her to him, taking all of his weight, wrapping herself around him and clinging like a vine. She couldn’t get close enough, hearing her friend’s whimpers and cries beside her, the room filled with the sounds and scent of their fucking.

“Baby,” Doc panted, his cock swelling, the sights and sounds and smells of it too much for him, too much for her, too.

“Yes!” She let him fuck her, fill her, take her. “Do it! Come! Come! Ohhhhh fuck! I’m gonna come!”

Doc growled and shuddered into her, their bodies slick and sliding together as they both came, Carrie arching and writhing beneath him, Doc rutting and grunting on top of her, both of them reaching their pinnacle together, a mountain climbed and conquered, the free-fall off the other side a long, sweet ride down into nothing and everything all at once.

Carrie kissed his sweaty neck as he collapsed onto her, smiling dreamily up at the ceiling. Beside her, Wilson and Daphne were whispering and giggling and the sound was more sweet music to her ears.

“We are so going to have to wash these sheets,” Doc said, laughing.

“Shh.” Carrie nudged him, looking over at the couple beside them, cuddled together in an almost visible afterglow. “Look.”

Doc did and grinned. “I guess this solves the problem of where he’s going to sleep tonight.”

“I think it solves a lot of problems,” Carrie agreed, kissing her husband quiet.

* * * *

Nan stood on a kitchen chair, tacking up the mistletoe in the doorway, while her husband, Chuck, poured himself another egg nog.

“You’re sure it’s okay, having all these people here?” Carrie held the chair for her mother-in-law and glanced into the living room where Wilson and Daphne were talking on the couch. Doc winked and tipped back his beer from a chair across the room, dropping her a wink.

“Don’t be silly.” Nan waved her concern away. “I told you before, when you asked me if your friend could come. The more the merrier!”

“That’s very nice,” Carrie complimented her mother-in-law’s placement of the mistletoe.

“It’s not Christmas without mistletoe.” Nan climbed down from her perch.

“Chuck, you’d better offer our guests some of that egg nog before it’s all gone!” Nan scolded, putting the chair back at the kitchen table.

Her father-in-law sighed, poking his head around the corner. “You kids want some egg nog?”

“I’m good,” Doc said, tipping his beer in his father’s direction as he came into the kitchen. He saw his wife standing by the egg nog and went to her, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. “But I bet our two lovebirds wouldn’t turn down some nog.”

Daphne and Wilson appeared in the doorway, arms wrapped around each other. Carrie couldn’t help smiling at the sight.

“Oh! Oh! Look up!” Nan grinned, pointing at the mistletoe she’d just hung in the doorway.

“Oh darn, we’re caught.” Daphne laughed, putting her arms around Wilson’s neck. “I guess we have to kiss.”

Wilson actually blushed, but their lips met under the mistletoe and they all applauded.

Carrie smiled as Doc turned her to him, capturing her mouth and kissing her deeply. It was a very un-public kiss, a very not-in-front-of-your-parents-and-our-friends kiss, making her toes curl and her knees threaten to buckle.

“We’re not under the mistletoe,” she gasped when they parted, laughing.

Doc smiled. “I don’t need an excuse to kiss my wife.”

“Merry Christmas, Doc.” She put her arms around his neck, and everything else—Daphne and Wilson giggling under the mistletoe, Nan setting out a plate of cheese and crackers, Chuck pouring himself yet another egg nog while Nan wasn’t looking—melted away at the look in her husband’s eyes. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world—the only woman in his world who mattered.

“I love you.” Doc kissed her again, this time quickly, lightly, a casual kiss, one that told her that he expected to kiss her again, soon and often. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Hey girl, this is crazy, and I know we just met, but...”

Janie blinked in surprise at the guy who took the stool beside her at the bar, instinctively backing away a little as he leaned closer. He was young, barely old enough to gain entry into the club, and while she was just ten years past that, this clear attempt to pick her up amused her greatly.

“Excuse me?” She crossed one leg over the other, letting her already-too-short skirt ride up her thigh, revealing the lace top of her thigh-high stocking, enjoying his reaction. His gaze skipped from her hemline to the v-neck of her blouse, revealing far more cleavage than she was used to showing.

“Sorry, it was a just bad pickup line!” He had to yell to be heard, leaning in even closer, and Janie could smell beer on his breath. “Whatcha drinkin’? I’m buying!”

“Shot of Patron!” Janie yelled in reply and lifted her glass, tilting back the honey colored liquid at the bottom.

“Two shots of Patron!” the guy called to the bartender. She was a leggy redhead who raised her eyebrows as she poured the shots but she took the guy’s money and slid the drinks in front of them, moving on to the other patrons crowding the bar.

“What should we drink to?” Janie lifted her glass, enjoying the way he turned toward her on the stool so his knee brushed her thigh. He was tall, and the jeans and cowboy boots alone made her belly quiver. The silver buckle and the hat were just cherries on the cake.

“All I know is we need to get hammered.” He clinked his glass to hers, grinning, still yelling to be heard. “Because I wanna nail you!”

“The first pickup line wasn’t bad enough?” Janie smirked, raising one eyebrow and glancing pointedly down at his crotch. “I don’t know, are you sure you brought enough wood?”

Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Tequila erupted from his mouth in a fine spray all over the bar and he choked behind his black shirt sleeve, eyes watering, but he came up laughing.

“I’m pretty sure you’d be happy with the timber, ma’am,” he replied, still grinning.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

She felt a presence, glancing over her shoulder at the dark, curly hair appearing behind her as he slid onto the stool on her other side.

“I’m Josh,” he said, holding out his hand.

Janie took it, smiling. “Janie.”

“Oh, she’s a tougher nut to crack than that, pal, believe me!” the cowboy remarked, using one of the napkins sitting under a bowl of peanuts to wipe up the tequila he’d spit all over the bar.

“Is that so?” Josh smiled. “I guess we’ll have to see about that. Hey, cowboy, can I borrow your hat?”

The cowboy frowned, but he took it off and handed it over, smoothing back his sandy hair.

“Thanks.” Josh put the hat over Janie’s still untouched shot of tequila. “I bet you a kiss I can drink that without ever touching the hat.”

She cocked her head and eyed him skeptically. “One kiss?”

“Would you prefer a blowjob? I know I would!”

“Okay, one kiss.” Janie laughed, feeling her face flush. Beside her, the cowboy was watching intently.

Josh gave a nod and then crouched down, disappearing under the lip of the bar. Janie squealed as she felt his hands on her calves, a hot mouth pressed to her knee, making drinking sounds. The cowboy’s eyes widened.

“Ma’am? Do you need me to—?”

“No, no!” She laughed, waving him away as Josh reappeared.

“Taa daa!” Josh wiped the back of his mouth, dropping her a wink.

The cowboy scowled, reaching over to grab his hat off the counter, revealing the shot sitting, still untouched, on the bar. “Hey!”

Josh grabbed the glass, knocking the shot back in one tilt of his head. He turned to Janie, grinning. “Now about that blowjob...”

“Kiss!” she reminded him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, forcing her to spread her legs as his mouth came down on hers, slanting across with a wet, hungry heat she couldn’t resist. Janie put her arms around his neck, letting him draw her tongue in, suck at it, and felt the stiff press of his erection through his jeans.

“What the hell?” The cowboy was still scowling when Janie came up for air, face flushed, pushing her blonde hair back out of her eyes.

“I drank it,” Josh explained, grinning. “But I never touched the hat, did I?”

The cowboy looked from one to the other, puzzled. “But... you... are you...?”

Janie disentangled herself from Josh’s arms, turning on the stool toward the confused man. Leaning in closer, so she wouldn’t have to yell to be heard, she whispered into his ear, “Married.”

She saw the light dawning and slipped her arm around Josh’s waist as she slid off the stool, feeling his hand moving over her ass, squeezing, kneading her flesh. Her whole body was buzzing with heat, her nipples hard under her blouse. The cowboy’s gaze went there, in spite of the fact Josh had already claimed her.

“You’re a lucky man.” The cowboy tipped his hat, his gaze sweeping Janie from head to toe, making her tingle.

“I know.” Josh leaned in and whispered into Janie’s ear. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Thanks for the drink, cowboy.” Janie turned and walked away, hips swaying, feeling the heat of his gaze following her.

There were two guys standing outside trying to get a taxi, but the moment Janie appeared in her high-heels and short skirt, a yellow cab pulled up, stopping so fast it left a skid mark on the cooling pavement. She smiled apologetically at the men waiting as she got into the back seat, telling the driver their destination, and asking him to wait for Josh.

“So, what do you think?” Josh slid in beside her as the driver took off. He slipped his hand slowly over her stocking and up underneath her skirt. He lowered his voice and whispered, “Last bar for the night, my insatiable little slut?”

Her eyes widened slightly and she felt the familiar tingle between her legs. The driver wasn’t paying any attention to them, listening to a Spanish radio station. She looked at Josh, a little mischievous smile passing over her face, and leaned back in the seat slightly.

He looked out the window, seemingly uninterested in her, but his hand slid up further, feeling the heat between her legs. His fingers brushed over her panties and he began slowly stroking her.

Mmm, warming me up.
She let her eyes close, feeling the tingle building as her panties grew more damp with each pass of his fingers. Only a small intake of breath indicated Janie felt his fingers slide her panties aside and his fingers slip inside, seeking the hottest, wettest spot. He glanced at her, and she heard his breath quicken slightly. He loved it, she knew, almost as much as she did.

His finger moved around her clit, making easy, practiced circles. Janie met the cab driver’s eyes in the mirror. He was watching now, seeing the flush on her cheeks, the rosy glow spreading to her chest. She moaned softly, parting her legs wider and sliding her bottom down on the seat.

“It makes you hot, doesn’t it?” Josh leaned in to whisper into the shell of her ear, sending shivers up her spine. “Knowing he’s watching. You’re making his dick hard.”

She whimpered, nuzzling her face against her husband’s neck, squirming on the seat. He knew he drove her crazy, but that’s just where he intended to go. His fingers moved lower, slipping inside her slick pussy, probing deep. She sighed and arched, holding on tight to him as the cab made a sharp left.

“Taste your cunt.” He lifted his glistening fingers to her mouth, forcing them between her lips. The cab driver actually gasped, watching Janie eagerly suck her juices, rocking on the seat. “You’re such a little slut. Say it. Tell me you’re my cock whore.”

“I’m a slut,” she gasped, sliding a leg over his, spreading herself. “I’m your cock whore.”

“Yes, you are,” Josh growled, pulling her into his lap, forcing her to straddle him, her skirt riding up her thighs and over her ass. Janie glanced over her shoulder and saw the cab driver frantically adjusting the mirror for a better view. She arched her back, giving it to him. “Are you ready to give them all a show, you slutty little brat? Are you ready to give them a hot, dirty little show?”

“Yes!” She rocked against him, feeling the length of his cock even through the thick, denim crotch of his jeans. “You’re so good to me, baby. Ohhh so fucking good to me.”

The cab slowed and then stopped and Janie glanced up, the ache in her pussy unbearable, the excitement too much to contain. Outside, the air was warm, stifling even in the moonlight, and Janie frantically filled her lungs as Josh pulled her from the vehicle.

“You should wait.” Josh leaned down to the window to speak to the driver, who was clearly trying to keep some sort of professional expression on his face and failing miserably. “Come on in if you want to see a show.”

There were men crowded at the door, at least a dozen, maybe more. Janie felt their gazes on her as Josh directed them all to step aside so he could unlock the empty warehouse door. She saw the cowboy near the back, his eyes big in the moonlight.

Four of the men went in even before Josh. They were all huge, with broad backs and thickly muscled arms under their matching white tanks that shared one word across both the front and back: “Security.” One of these men posted himself at the door, turning on the stark, overhead fluorescents. The other three went over to the twin mattress arranged on pallets in the middle of the empty room.

“Ready?” Josh whispered. Janie just nodded, trembling, as he led her over to the mattress. It was brand new—the plastic had been removed that afternoon and discarded in a nearby corner. Two folding chairs stood beside it. Janie stood beside the mattress, head and eyes down, and waited. The men, murmuring and talking together, some of them joking, laughing, getting to know each other, followed them, making a semi-circle.

All eyes were on her until Josh held up his hands and announced, “The first rule of Fuck Club is you don’t talk about Fuck Club.”

It was quiet at first, the men shifting, looking uneasy, but then Josh grinned, shaking his head. “Just kidding.”

There was nervous laughter. Janie’s knees felt weak and she leaned against one of the bodyguards for support. His hand moved to her elbow, holding her up.

“You were lucky enough to be chosen or invited here tonight,” Josh went on. He was unbuttoning his shirt as he talked. “This only happens once a year, and if you’re lucky and follow the rules, you may get invited back again next year. The date and the location changes every year, so don’t get any ideas. If you’re not invited back, you’re out of luck. So I’d behave if I were you.”

Josh slid off his shirt, folding it neatly and putting it on a chair beside the mattress. “And if you can’t control yourself or follow the rules, these four bruisers are here to help you. Got it?”

There was a murmur of understanding.

“So what are the rules, mate?”

Janie recognized the voice of the Australian guy they’d picked up from the first bar they’d been to that night. That seemed like a million years ago.

Josh slid his belt out of the loops on his jeans, rattling them off from memory. “You can look, you can touch, but you can’t fuck her and you can’t kiss her on the mouth. If she wants to touch or suck your cock, she will. If she doesn’t, don’t force her, or you’ll be removed.”

She watched, eyes still downcast, as her husband removed his jeans, leaving him wearing only a very tented pair of boxers.

“You can touch yourself, obviously. Or each other, if you’re into that. I don’t care.” Josh turned to Janie. “You can touch her anywhere else with your hands or your mouth, but don’t be too rough—unless she asks you to be. And you can come anywhere you like, except for her mouth or her pussy. She likes it when you come on her, so please, do feel free.”

She swallowed and blushed at his words as Josh sat down in the chair in front of her. He was half-smiling and she felt his fingers brush her wrist, a tender gesture. She shivered.

“And just like in kindergarten,” he said, not looking at the men at all now. Everyone was looking at her. “We play nice, we take turns, and we share. Got it?”

Another murmur of assent. Some of the men followed Josh’s lead and removed their shirts, their pants. Some hung back, still unsure, watching.

“There are folding chairs over there, if you want to sit back and watch.” Josh pointed toward the wall, his gaze never leaving his wife. “Or you can get up and get involved if you like, that’s up to you. This is an interactive show.”

Josh encircled her wrist. “Right, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispered, quivering with excitement—the room was alive with it, like a thick pulse, like the blood rushing through her veins. He turned her hand over, kissing her palm.

“Take your shirt off,” Josh ordered. “Show yourself to all these men. They’re all hard for you, baby. They want to see the hot little body you’ve been teasing everyone with all night.”

Another group murmur of assent. Janie unbuttoned her blouse slowly, glad the warehouse was warm, but her nipples were hard anyway. She hadn’t worn a bra. Her breasts were full and round, still firm, and there was a collective sigh as she revealed them, dropping her blouse onto the chair with Josh’s clothes.

“Turn around,” Josh instructed. He unzipped her skirt, sliding it down her hips, letting it pool on the floor at her heels. “Bend over.”