Baumgartner Hot Shorts

by Selena Kitt

  In her mind, he moaned at that, and she refused to let herself orgasm, although the woman riding her face did just that, screaming with her climax. But she wanted Henry, she wanted to share him with this woman, and in her fantasy, they knelt to stroke and suck him off, the two of them sharing, taking turns on his cock until he couldn’t stand another minute.

  “Good boy,” Toni urged with a throaty chuckle as she jerked his cock into Libby’s waiting mouth. She tasted his pre-cum and wanted more. “I want you to fill her hot little mouth with all that fucking cum.”

  Libby moaned and thrashed on the sofa, fingering herself hard, nipples pointing straight at the ceiling as she imagined Toni stroking Henry’s cock, tasting the first flood of him on her tongue. And with that, Libby was coming, too, hips bucking, the wet squelch of her pussy filling the room as she fake-swallowed Henry’s thick, creamy load, and then turned to kiss the woman kneeling beside her so they could share the taste of it between them.

  She sighed as the whole world sparked behind her tightly closed eyelids, waves of pleasure still shooting through her like stars in a final crescendo that made her limbs lax. Oh, my God, what was that? She could barely breathe. Had she really just imagined a threesome between Henry and his professor? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come that hard.

  Libby smiled to herself, lifting her fingers to her lips to taste herself. It was a low noise that made her open her eyes to find Henry, phone in one hand, cock in the other, watching her. Embarrassed, a flush of heat moved over her chest and up her face as she grabbed for a pillow and wailed it at him with such force, it made her arm protest with a yip of pain.

  “Busted.” Henry grinned, his eyes lighting up as his gaze swept over her. “What were you thinking about?”

  “I’m not telling.” She laughed, crooking a finger to beckon him to her. “Looks like you have your hands full.”

  “Your fault.” He gripped and tugged at his cock. “You practicing?”

  Libby’s breath froze.

  “Practicing?” she asked, trying not to sound as apprehensive as she felt.

  “For Valentine’s Day.” Henry’s eyes were between her legs, moving over the shaved swell of her mound. “You know, our ritual?”

  Of course she knew. They did it every Valentine’s Day, acting out some sexual fantasy or another. The first year, he’d wanted blindfolds and silk scarves to tie her up and she’d wanted him dressed up as a cowboy, complete with boots and hat, which she made him leave on. This year, she hadn’t decided what she wanted yet. But she was beginning to wonder if Henry had already made up his mind.

  “Get your ass over here before you make yourself come.” She pouted. “That’s my job.”

  He came forward until he stood right beside the couch, close enough she could swing her legs over the side so she could sit up and take him in her mouth. He moaned softly as she took his swollen cock, sliding back and forth, lips and hand meeting as she sucked him. She twisted her fist, loving the sound this pulled from his chest when she did it.

  “Who was on the phone?” she paused to ask, although she kept her hand moving on him, his skin taut and reddened from her attention.

  “Toni.”

  She stopped, the name bringing back flashes of her fantasy.

  “What?” He frowned. “I have a big exam coming up. She forgot to schedule an extra session for this week. I got distracted, with you waiting for me in the hall.”

  “You were distracted.” She smirked, rubbing the head of his cock over her lips. “Were you thinking about coming home and doing this?”

  “This and more.” He nodded, biting his lip as she took him into her mouth again.

  And more.

  What was the more? She wondered, meeting his eyes as she took him deeper into her throat. Was the more—Toni Franklin? Was Henry picturing it, even now, like she had? The other woman between them, her soft, full curves and throaty moans?

  Her jealousy had returned with a vengeance and Henry gave a little yelp when Libby’s teeth lightly grazed the head of his cock.

  “Hey! Watch the teeth.” Henry slid himself from her mouth as she mumbled an apology, pressing her back onto the couch before climbing on top of her. “You mad at me?”

  She knew he was referring to the phone call, the extra tutoring session—Toni.

  “No.” She shook her head. She was confused, anxious, uncertain, jealous. But not mad.

  “Look at me.” Henry met her eyes as he entered her, forcing her thighs open for him. “I love you, Libs. You know that, right?”

  “I love you, too.” She wrapped herself around him tight, arms and legs both, as they rode another cresting wave of pleasure together toward a distant, blissful shore.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Libby sat at the kitchen table, bleary-eyed, still tired, wearing just a t-shirt and stirring sugar into her coffee as she watched Henry fly in to grab his gym bag. He always headed to the ice rink for conditioning and drills before classes began each day. She loved his dedication, and the solid, steady bliss his natural-born talent for hockey brought him. He stopped when he saw her, eyes lighting up at her attire—or lack thereof.

  “No class today?” he asked, shrugging on his coat.

  “Just work at the library.” She blinked and turned her face up to be kissed as he leaned in. “Not until one.”

  “Right.” His lips pressed hers, soft and achingly familiar. She would never take this man for granted, she told herself. Every day, he was a gift to her.

  Smiling as they parted, she reminded him. “Dinner at seven?”

  “Argh.” He groaned. “Make it eight? I have that extra tutoring session with Toni. And it’ll have to be quick, because the team has the rink tonight from nine to eleven.”

  “Do you have to keep calling her Toni?” Jealousy reared its ugly head before she could even think about it.

  “Hey.” Henry gave her a quizzical smile, but the look in his eyes was hurt. “What’s this?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head, sipping her coffee. “I’m just tired. Cranky. Didn’t sleep well.”

  That was the truth, anyway. She’d been up half the night, torturing herself with thoughts of threesomes.

  “I miss you already.” He kissed her again, lingering just a moment before heading out the door, whistling some tune.

  I miss you already, too, she thought, staring at the door after it swung shut, an empty, hollow feeling in her middle she realized nothing would ever fill again. Not if she lost him.

  And she wasn’t going to ever let that happen, no matter what.

  * * * *

  By the time she was done with her shift at the library, Libby could barely stand on her feet. She’d even stayed a little later, because Henry had pushed dinner back and Kim needed the help—students got serious about their studies after the holidays—but now she was ready to go.

  She hadn’t been kidding about not getting any sleep, and the coffee she’d been practically mainlining all day had barely kept her conscious. It was the constant thrum of her brain that ultimately kept her awake, a montage of images. She kept seeing Mrs. B and Gretchen together in the kitchen with Doc. And if it wasn’t that memory, it edited and re-edited fantasies of Henry and his professor with Libby as a third. She was sick of her own thoughts and had no idea how she’d become the jealous and obsessive girlfriend, the one she used to make fun of with girlfriends.

  “You going home?” Kim shrugged her coat on over her scarf, pulling on a pair of stylish black gloves.

  “Me?” Libby looked up from where she’d been scanning another book back into the system with the scanner gun. “Oh. Yeah. It’s that time.”

  “You want to walk together?” Kim offered. “I’m going that way.”

  “Sure.” Libby put the scanner aside and went to get her own coat. Their relief—two new girls, both freshman who wore too much makeup and spent their time snapping their gum and looking at their phones—had arrived, bringing a rush of cold ai
r with them as Kim and Libby headed out.

  “What’s up with you?” Kim asked, brows furrowed as they hugged their coats tighter against the dropping temperatures. “You’ve been spacey all day.”

  “Have I?” Libby blinked, surprised anyone had noticed.

  “Something up with you and Henry?”

  “Why do you ask that?” Libby gave her friend a sharp look, frowning. Were there rumors? Had she heard something?

  “It’s the only thing I could think of that would make you so out of it.” Kim tucked her chin back into her scarf, looking at the ground to avoid a sudden, treacherous gust of wind that hit them as they came around the building, out into a more open expanse of grass.

  “I think I’m making more out of it than I should.” Libby sighed, shouldering her backpack and pulling her hat down lower with mittened hands.

  “More out of what?”

  “You know, the whole threesome thing.” Libby shivered. She’d told Kim everything—well mostly. She’d told her about the polyamorous Baumgartners and her worries that Henry might want that, too, someday. With her. And perhaps even his former lover and continuing tutor. “I’m driving myself crazy thinking about it.”

  “So you’re jealous?” Kim raised her eyebrows, turning to walk backward, facing Libby, using her back as a shield against the weather.

  “I’m… concerned.” Libby sniffed. “Let’s put it that way.”

  “Well, I don’t know what’s really going on…” Kim narrowed her eyes at the thought. “But if it were me? I’d be making some surprise visits at those tutoring sessions.”

  “You would?” Libby had hoped for reassurances, a few, you know Henry loves you statements rather than a confirmation of her own insanity.

  “Look, I know Henry loves you.” Kim shrugged, and even though her words were clearly meant to reassure her—it was, in fact, exactly what she’d longed to hear—Libby didn’t feel any better. “But guys will be guys. And they’ve already been together, so…”

  “Henry swore he would never do anything like that without talking to me first.” Libby said, as if reminding herself of this fact.

  “Yeah, they always say that.” Kim made a face, and Libby remembered that her boyfriend sophomore year had cheated on her and denied it for six months before getting caught. “But it’s better safe than sorry.”

  “You’re right.” Libby halted abruptly and Kim stopped, too, frowning. “I’m gonna head over there.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.” She braced herself, and not just against the wind.

  “You want moral support?” Kim offered, although she didn’t look thrilled about heading in the opposite direction of home. “I can come with you.”

  “No, you go ahead.” Libby dismissed her friend, giving her permission to keep walking.

  “All right.” Kim frowned. “But I’ll call you later!”

  Libby had already changed course, heading toward Dr. Franklin’s office, Kim’s voice nearly lost in the wind and growing dark. She tugged at her scarf as she entered the warm building, her body adjusting to the sudden temperature change, sweat breaking out on her forehead as she crept down the hall as if she was a spy on a covert mission.

  The halls were empty. As she came up the stairs, she saw the woman’s door open a crack, just like last time—just like my fantasy—but rather than poke her head in, she made a wide circle to come up behind it and listen.

  “Thanks for helping me, Toni,” Henry said. He sounded like he was packing up to go.

  “Anytime. You know that,” the professor answered, in a voice too deep and sultry for Libby’s current state of mind not to misconstrue.

  “No, not just the extra tutoring session, but with your help and understanding with the whole Libby thing. I’m all ready to reveal it to her come Valentine’s Day.” Henry sounded excited, anticipatory.

  “I know. I can’t wait.” That throaty laugh. So knowing. Like the shared a secret. And they clearly did.

  No. No, no, no. Libby’s mind screamed as her feet carried her down the hall before she even realized she’d started moving, her brain putting two and two together to reach a sum of about five and a half before she reached the restroom door, straight-arming it and running inside.

  She stopped to look at herself in the mirror, cheeks ruddy, eyes already tearing up.

  I have nothing to wear on Valentine’s Day that will give me those kinds of curves.

  She knew she was no match for Toni Franklin.

  Henry always made her feel sexy. He said he loved the way her breasts, her ass, fit in his hands as if she were made for him. Toni’s couldn’t possibly fit, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like squeezing them. He loved her, she didn’t doubt that, but the fact he wanted to bring more people into their love life was killing her ego.

  Pushing into one of the stalls, her extra clothing making it a snug fit, her body ricocheted as she slammed the door, leaning against it and letting her tears flow. There was no one in the bathroom, so she let her sobs come, harsh and unrelenting. Her shoulders slumped forward and the tears fell in earnest onto her scarf. Maybe she just needed a good cry. She’d been keeping it in for weeks, since New Year’s—the concerns, the worry, and now the jealousy.

  “Damnit!” She slammed the side of her gloved fist against the stall, her breath catching and shuddering.

  Her backpack slipped from her overly padded shoulder to fall onto her foot. Even with a boot on, it hurt, but the pain only encouraged more tears. Then her phone rang, startling her, and she reached down to retrieve it, gulping in a few deep breaths to steady her voice. Henry’s picture filled the screen and she pushed her thumb at his smiling face.

  “Hello?” She forced her voice to remain light.

  “Hey, baby. I’m headed home for dinner. You hungry?” Henry asked.

  He paused, waiting for her to answer, but she couldn’t find anything to say, or the strength to get it out in a normal sounding voice.

  “Libby? You there?”

  “Yeah,” she managed.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No! Think we have a bad connection,” she whispered into the phone, hoping that lame excuse would explain the sound of her voice. “I’m in the bathroom. At work.”

  “Why aren’t you home already?”

  “I’m filling in,” she stumbled over the words as the lie formed. “I had to stay later… anyway, I can’t make dinner.”

  “Oh, okay.” He sounded slightly doubtful still, but he believed her, she could tell. “I’ll see you after practice then?”

  “Yeah. See you tonight. I gotta go.” Libby clicked the digitized block of red on her phone to end the call.

  Red. The red of her beating heart. The red of Valentine’s Day. The red that said stop.

  She stayed in the stall for a while, calming herself as much as she could. Then she stumbled out into the snowy night. She wandered aimlessly, staying on the lit pathways, but she had no real destination in mind.

  Libby was a practical girl, at her core. She listed the pluses and minuses of a polyamorous relationship, one by one. It read like a bad psychology text book, with odd thoughts of time management issues and increased emotional relationship drama dancing in her head. She didn’t know how she might handle sharing the intimacies of her life with another woman, let alone, having another woman share hers.

  Or sharing Henry. That was really the thing.

  Will watching him fuck her be heartbreaking or arousing?

  In her fantasy, it had been exciting. But how would it be, in reality?

  As she walked, her feet numb, her mind strayed to their physical differences. She couldn’t help comparing herself to the other woman. Their bodies, ages, sexual experiences, even their sexual tastes, would play a part. The more she thought about it, the harder her heart beat in her chest, until it actually ached. She stumbled down the walkway like she was drink, losing her footing a few times because of her lack of attention.

  Libby’s thoughts
had gone off the deep end. She couldn’t contain them anymore.

  And without any thought at all, she found herself back at the library. The scene of the crime, so to speak, where she’d first met Henry. Walking in, she pulled at her scarf, loosening the knot as she walked. As she removed her gloves, she heard someone call out her name.

  With a forced smile and half wave, she said hello to the girls behind the counter, but then moved on as if in a hurry. Surely they wondered why she was back, but she wasn’t here to work. Besides, her dismissal was easily explained. Everyone was always rushing around campus, heading to a meeting or hurrying to reach a deadline.

  Libby took the elevator down. It was quiet, always quiet, one of the things she loved about the place. That, and the unmistakable smell of books. Stacks of them, all neatly shelved by the old Dewey Decimal system, even if they kept track of them by computer instead of card catalog these days.

  She smiled, knowing just where she was going. She was thinking of that fateful day when Henry had come into these stacks, looking for a how-to Dummies Guide to teach himself to read. His dyslexia had made him transpose the call numbers, and when she’d stepped in to help him, she’d pulled The Complete Idiots Guide to the Kama Sutra off the shelf instead, much to his dismay. And her amusement.

  She often found herself at this exact spot just to touch the books, remember the day, the way he’d affected her, made her heart race, her pussy wet. They’d ridden the elevator together and had joked about a few of the Kama Sutra positions. That had led him to buy her their own copy not long after they’d begun dating and they’d been playing with the positions ever since.

  She loved Henry, everything about him. And, she felt loved by him. Adventurous at times, sweet at others, their sex life was a wonder that stole her breath. It made her wet just to think about it. The book was shelved up high, and she slid a rolling stool over to reach. She couldn’t help remembering how she’d purposefully asked for his help, to steady her on a stool she’d climbed successfully on her own a thousand times before, just to feel his hands on her that first day.