A Baumgartner reunion

It had been years and years, but the memory came back like it was yesterday, the rich, lush feel of her body, the soft, smooth taste of her flesh. It was Mrs. Baumgartner I was imagining beneath me, with her smooth, tanned thighs, spreading them wide for my tongue. Oh my god, had we really-? I hadn’t forgotten, not really, but I hadn’t thought about it or spoken it of it since Gretchen and I had gone our separate ways.

“Oh Mrs. B,” I whispered, lost in the fantasy, TJ’s cock driving it home with every thrust. I could almost taste her, thick and pungent on my tongue, hear her moaning as I licked her to orgasm after orgasm after… “Oh god, yes, baby, that’s my girl, come for me, come on, do it, do it, come in my mouth!” TJ groaned at my words, his fingers digging deep into my hips. “Oh fuck, Ronnie, oh my god, yesss!”

I want to say it was the feel of him coming, that first, hot spurt of cum, that sent me over the edge-but it wasn’t. It was remembering Mrs. B, the thick, hot lap of her tongue against my clit, and most of all, the feel and taste of her coming in my mouth, how she shuddered and dug her nails into my flesh and pressed her cunt against my face until I couldn’t breathe, and I loved it, oh my god, I couldn’t get enough of her…

“Oh, oh, yes, coming, oh please…” My voice turned small, young, and I lost myself in the memory and the sweet pulse of my orgasm, arching with it on the bed, again and again. Suddenly, I wasn’t a twenty-nine year old kindergarten teacher, mother of a five-year-old, about to celebrate her seventh wedding anniversary-I was a young, naive nineteen-year-old girl having her first experience with the wide open world of sexual pleasure.

I buried my face in pillow, panting and breathless, as TJ slipped out of me and slid off to the side. His belly was wet with sweat as he shifted his hips toward me.

“Wow.” His lips found my hairline, my temple, my ear. “That was something else.”

I didn’t trust myself to answer, but I turned my face toward his. I was afraid of what he might see in my eyes, but I wanted the reassurance I was seeking in his. He gave it to me, too, nothing but love there as his fingers played through my hair.

I knew he was waiting for me to say something, so finally, I did. “I have to admit… thinking about it is kind of hot.”

He grinned. “And if just thinking about it is hot, just imagine…” I flushed, both with the thought and with the memory. I had never told TJ

about what happened with the Baumgartners. Gretchen and I had been over for a year when I met him, and I had chalked it all up to some college experimentation thing. I wasn’t a lesbian, I was sure of that. Yes, okay, I’d been attracted to women over the years, but-

“Ronnie?”

”Hm?” I turned onto my side and spooned up against him, pulling his arm across me, a protection, a barrier. I knew what he was going to ask, even before the words were out, and yet, somehow, they still surprised me.

“Who’s Mrs. B?”

I froze, glad he couldn’t see my face. Well, Lucy, looks like you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.

I cleared my throat, closed my eyes, my whole body on fire with the memories, and then I started to talk…

* * * *

`The headlights of my Intrepid reflected on the garage door and I turned them off, gathering up my purse and my bag with all my lesson plans. It was such a sweet moment of anticipation, the time between knowing I was home and going into the house where I knew TJ and Beth would be waiting. Knowing the long holiday stretched out ahead of us made it even better, and if it weren’t for staying late to finish cleaning up the classroom and the fact I had a hamster in the backseat, it would be perfection.

I opened the side door and could smell TJ’s spaghetti cooking. It just kept getting better and better! I swept in carrying the hamster cage, complete with hamster, and TJ stood up from the kitchen chair, his eyebrows raised as he moved instinctively to help. “Uh, what’s this?”

I let him take the cage and he looked around for the best place to put it, deciding on the counter. He peered in at a little sleeping ball nearly the color of peach fuzz curled into one corner.

“Taffy, remember?” I began unslinging purses and bags from my shoulder, hanging them over a kitchen chair. “Classroom hamster. Jody Cornwell was supposed to take him home over Christmas break, but he has the chicken pox, and I couldn’t get anyone else’s parent’s permission in time. Poor little guy had to wait in the car while I was visiting with Kathy after work-uh, and what’s this?” I stood staring at the glasses and the wine and looked up at him, pushing my hair out of my face and frowning. He uncorked the bottle and began to pour us each a glass.

“We’re having a dinner guest.” He offered me a glass of wine.

I smiled, my eyes questioning, and shook my head. “You know I don’t like this stuff.”

“Try it,” he said, clinking his glass with mine.