A Baumgartner reunion

“You know, the esteemed lawyer slash husband to Michelle that lives here with you and makes it harder for me to find time to fuck you?”

Oh that David. “Los Angeles.” David was in Los Angeles. David was mad at me. And that had nothing to do with what I was doing here in bed with Harry.

Nothing at all.

I stopped her. I had to. “Janie, this is good.”

She flushed, smiling. “You think so?”

”No,” I shook my head, frowning. “I mean, it’s really good. Like… really.” I was too surprised to be more descriptive or eloquent. “Go on. Don’t stop.” She didn’t. And as she went on, I found that the story wasn’t just good…it was hot. She wasn’t kidding when she said erotic. By the time she reached the end, I was breathless and squirming on the sofa, my crotch aching. But it wasn’t just the sex-it was the story. It was fantastic — timing, pace, character — with the perfect ending. Just perfect.

“I found a new thai place-David, are you listening to me?”

“Of course I am.” He was. He always was, even when I thought he wasn’t.

“I ordered pad thai and the guy behind the counter said I was a hottie. Am I? Am I a hottie?”

“Yes.”

“David, tell me the story.” I nudged him with my elbow, distracting him from his paper. He closed it and smiled.

“Berkley. 2005. You were in the back row of Elliot’s class, and I could tell you were bored and too smart for him. You asked the best questions of anyone.

And I said to myself, ‘I’m going to marry her.’”

“And you did.”

“Yes.” David kissed me softly. “I did.”

“My god, Janie, that’s…” I swallowed, trying to find words. “That was just amazing. I can’t even tell you. I’m…speechless.” I really was.

“Did you really like it?” She closed her laptop and set it aside, her eyes bright. “Did it… did it make you wet?”

I nodded. No sense in denying that. “Incredibly.”

Crawling across the sofa, she put her head in my lap like she used to do when she was little, looking up at me with those blue, blue eyed. “Can I… feel?”

“Janie!” I sounded surprised, but I wasn’t. I didn’t think she could surprise me anymore. Her hand moved up my thigh, smooth, under the edge of my shorts. My panties were soaked, just soaked, from listening to her story, and her fingers played over the crotch.

“Can I…taste?” she murmured, turning her face into my belly, kissing her way down.

“Oh god.”

“Please?” she whispered, her fingers moving under the edge of my panties,

“Oh god,” I whispered again as she eased my shorts and panties down over my hips, and I let her, I did-I even helped. She didn’t waste any time, and her tongue was practiced and sure, focusing instantly on my clit, making me moan loudly. So much for teaching Janie, I thought, spreading wider as her mouth fastened over my mound and her eyes met mine. She might be able to teach me a thing or two.

Her tongue was sweet heaven, and I gently rubbed my nipples as she licked me, her tongue making fast circles, her fingers exploring my wet cleft. Her long blonde hair tickled my thighs and I pulled it out of the way as I watched her, our eyes locked, my breath coming faster and faster. Her story had me aroused beyond belief-and know that she’d written it, that the words and images had come from her own imagination-made it even more exciting.

“You like the taste of pussy, don’t you?” I asked, reaching down to spread my lips wider for her tongue, groaning when she moved her mouth back and forth with a fevered passion. Her enthusiasm was answer enough, and I ached to taste her, too. “Let me taste you, too, baby. Come here.” Janie stood between my thighs, pulling her t-shirt off over her head. She was still wearing a bikini top underneath, and she untied that at the top, turning around to let me undo the back. Her breasts were full, gorgeous, as she turned back to me, lifting and then letting them fall as I watched. She reminded me so much of her mother-a younger Mrs. B. God, that thought was exciting, too.