Meet the Baumgartners

Selena Kitt
6 mins read
Published about 3 years ago
Chapter 4

Meet the Baumgartners (Chapter 4)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting ready for Key West?”

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

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

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

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

“How convenient.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“We can make them simple,” he suggested.

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

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

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

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“My hands?”

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

“Steven…” She gulped.

“Call me Doc,” he said. 

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

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

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

“Probably around three. Just F.Y.I.”

“St—Doc… listen…”

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

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

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

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

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

Carrie didn’t know how she felt about it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, his hand moving faster again now. “Fuck me. Ride that cock. Oh god yeah, just like that.” 

She swallowed, hearing the click in her own throat, waiting for him to feel her presence, but he was too engrossed in his fantasy—his fantasy of her. She stood fully in the shower stall with him now, right beside his thrusting hips, watching his cock appear through the clench of his fist again and again. His balls, she noticed, were drawn up tight. He’d been at this for a while, she realized. 

“Oh baby, I want your mouth,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the head, spreading pre-cum everywhere. “Please, suck me off.” 

Carrie couldn’t resist. She dropped quickly to her knees, taking the head of his cock between her lips and sucking. Doc let out a gasp, half-sitting up on his elbows, and she gave a throaty laugh, taking him in as deep as she could manage, her eyes meeting his. 

“Jesus,” he croaked, his hand moving in her hair. “Don’t do that!” 

“You want me to stop?” She sat back on her heels, biting her lip. “Are you sure?”

He groaned and pressed her head back toward his crotch. “No, not that. Don’t ever stop doing that.” 

She smiled and slid her fist down his shaft, following with her mouth and tongue, breathing in the fully masculine scent of him, letting it fill her senses. He reached for her, lifting her t-shirt and cupping a breast, rubbing her hard nipple with his palm. She gave a soft moan, her other hand wedging the crotch of her panties between her swollen lips, gasping when her fingers reached her clit, throbbing and aching for release. But she didn’t want to climax yet. Not yet.

Just the feel of his cock in her mouth, the way his hips pressed up, his hand groping her breast, made her want to come. She sucked him eagerly and, using just her index fingernail, began to scratch her itch through the crotch of her panties—faster and faster over that little nub, back and forth, scratch scratch scratch. 

She could barely concentrate on what she was doing, his cock moving wildly, a thick, wet frenzy as her breath came in hot, quick pants. Her finger was pressing now, rubbing her clit in delicious, familiar circles, her pussy pulsing. Close. Too close.

“Oh Doc, I’m gonna come for you,” she gasped, her hips jutting toward the bench, and he grabbed her, holding on tight as her whole hand scissored between her legs, shoving her panties deep between her sopping pussy lips. She let him hold her up, clenching her between his thighs, supporting her with strong arms as her orgasm seared through her and she faded to black for a moment, nearly collapsing from the pleasure. 

“Oh yes,” he whispered, pulling her close, his cock like a brand against her belly. “Oh my god, yes, yes.” He rained kisses against the top of her head as she shivered in his arms. 

“More.” She reached between them, seizing the swell of his cock. “Please.”

“Anything you want,” he murmured as she took him back into her mouth, licking all around the head. “Oh god, you’re really fucking good at that…”

She smiled even though her mouth was full, giving him the full treatment, using her tongue, her lips, her hand. He gasped in surprise, his eyes opening wide. 

“Your pussy,” he insisted, leaning back on the bench and pulling her up onto it with him. “Please, I have to fuck you.”

She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. It had been years since she’d had a cock inside of her, and while she wanted it—wanted him—she was also a little afraid. Instead, she slipped off her panties, turned around and straddled his face. He moaned his approval, burying his face between her legs as she continued to suck his cock.

“Oh Doc,” she whispered as his tongue found her clit, flicking it back and forth, teasing. “That’s so good.”

“Mmmm,” he agreed, his lips closing over her, sucking gently, making her quiver on top of him. He was distracting her, making her almost forget the pulsing cock thrusting into her mouth, pumping in her fist. Oh god, he was too good, his tongue relentless, his fingers parting her, sliding easily into her wetness. 

“Please,” she begged, eyes closing, her cheek resting against his thigh, using only her hand on him now, led too far astray by the sweet press of his tongue. She couldn’t believe he could make her come so fast, but he was, he was… “Ohhhh god, Doc, you’re gonna make me come all over your face,” she moaned loudly, not thinking, not caring where they were, that they could be caught at any moment. She didn’t know anything but the feel of his mouth covering her slippery wet cunt. 

“Ooohhhhh now now!” she cried, convulsing on top of him, his hands gripping her hips hard, fingers digging in deep, her whole body on fire as she climaxed, grinding her wetness against his face. She couldn’t stop—he was making her come and come, the hot whip of his tongue not letting her go. 

“Oh my god,” she gasped, shuddering as his tongue made wet trails over her pubic hair, his nose nudging her now overly-sensitive clit. “I can’t… please…”

She felt him chuckle, but that turned to a groan when she grabbed his cock in both hands, giving it a tight squeeze. 

“Your turn,” she insisted, sliding around to face him and straddle his thighs. His gaze met hers as she began to pump his slick cock, two-fisted, a low growl escaping him. He wasn’t passive, though—he lifted her t-shirt over her breasts, fingering her nipples, making her squirm when he tugged gently and twisted. 

“I love your cock,” she whispered, watching the tip appear between her fingers over and over, feeling the hard rise of him in her hands. “I think about it all the time. Sucking it. Fucking it.”

He groaned, his fingers searching out and finding her wetness, shoving two fingers up inside of her, making her whimper. 

“I want to fuck that little cunt,” he murmured, fingering her, deeper, harder. She bit her lip, imagining him pounding into her, fucking her right here in the men’s bathroom shower stall until she was screaming, begging to come. 

“I can’t,” she pleaded, stroking him faster. “Please, oh Doc, please come for me.” She put her face down by his cock, licking him as she stroked, pressing her tongue flat against the head. “Please, please, I promise I’ll swallow it all like a good girl.” 

That did it. He let out a low groan and grabbed her hair, shoving his cock deep into her throat and letting go with a cry of utter, final release. She couldn’t do anything but swallow the thick spray of his cum as it filled her mouth and wait for the next, which came with a fierce cry from him and another deep thrust, depositing the next fiery stream of the stuff way back in her throat. She gagged a little but managed to take it, swallowing around his length. The next rush of cum was smaller, his body rigid as he gave her the last of it, holding her head there for a moment, making a low noise in his throat.

“Oh my god.” He grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, hugging her close and burying his face in her hair. “You are something else.” 

She just smiled, snuggling up against him so that no part of her was touching the bench and she was curled up against his chest. 

“You’re not running away this time.” He wrapped his arms around her as if he were trying to bundle her up into a tight little package. 

“Doc, I—”

“Shh!” He quickly pressed his fingers to her lips, shaking his head. Then she heard it—the distinct sound of someone urinating. Her body went stiff, her eyes wide as the toilet flushed. There was no sound of water running—he didn’t wash his hands—but they both heard the door swing shut. Clearly, both of them had been too distracted to hear it open when he came in.

“I have to go,” she whispered, rolling off him so quickly he didn’t have time to grab her.

“Wait,” he hissed back, reaching for her, but she slipped out of the curtain and toward the bathroom door, opening it a crack to make sure there was no one in the hallway before hurrying back to her room.