Baumgartner Hot Shorts

by Selena Kitt

  Somehow they’d drawn even more of a crowd. There was a ring of spectators surrounding them now, mostly guys, and Carrie noticed at least one of them absently rubbing at his crotch, as if he had an itch there.

  Please, let me get a good hand, she thought, holding her cards in close, still trying to cover herself at the same time. It didn’t do any good, though—she had everyone’s gaze glued to her mostly-naked flesh.

  She had a pair—it was a good start, the best she’d had all night. She gave back three cards, and turned over the new three with high hopes.

  “Oh man, that’s it, that’s all she wrote!” Mark hooted as Steve laid down a royal flush, pulling off his other sock and slapping it on the table, too. “Take them off, sweetheart! Let’s see that bush!”

  “Hey, man.” Steve shook his head, nudging Mark. “You don’t have to.” He met Carrie’s desperate gaze. “Really.”

  “Come on!” a voice called from the back. “The Ice Queen thaws! I gotta see this!”

  “You really want to see, boys?” Carrie stood, hooking her thumbs in the elastic edge of her panties to a growing crowd of hoots and howls. But that wasn’t good enough—if she was going to do it, she might as well go all the way. Shoving her chair forward, she used it to step up onto the table.

  She heard the sounds of the crowd and was aware they were mostly guys, but her gaze fell onto Steve—Doc—as he stared up at her, almost hypnotized. She was topless, nearly nude except for the last wisp of white cotton material between her legs. She turned around, her backside to Steve, slowly letting her panties roll down her ass. They stuck slightly between her thighs and she tugged gently, bent almost in half, knowing he could see her pussy now from behind as she stepped out of them.

  She stood up quickly, flipping her hair over her shoulder and swinging her panties around a finger. The crowd had moved in, making a close circle, the yowls and whoops growing even more excited now that she was completely exposed.

  “Is that what you wanted?” Carrie turned and dropped her panties in Steve’s lap, seeing the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes—it was the same look they were all giving her, surrounding her.

  “Come on down,” Maureen pleaded, standing to help her, and Carrie stepped onto her chair, then to the floor.

  “Who’s the ice queen now?” Carrie turned to her friend and kissed her without provocation, bodies pressed together, tongues entwined. The crowd literally cheered.

  “Okay, enough.”

  Carrie barely heard the words, but she felt big, strong hands on her shoulders, and then Steve was separating the two women, pulling his t-shirt over her head.

  “What are you doing?” Carrie tried to twist away from him but he caught her up against him tightly.

  “This is going to get out of control,” he growled into her ear. “You’re drunk and have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “What in the hell is going on here?” The voice that truly broke things up was James’—Maureen’s boyfriend. “You said you were going to be at the library!”

  Uh-oh. Carrie saw Maureen’s look of sheer panic.

  “James, I—” Maureen moved to cover herself, as if she were the one who was nude, while in reality she was almost fully dressed, except for her divested socks.

  “Come with me. Now.” James grabbed Maureen’s arm and pulled her through the crowd—they were hissing and booing at the interruption in the show. Carrie called after her friend, but Steve pulled her in the opposite direction, leaving Mark, their last Strip Truth or Dare player, sitting alone at the card table surrounded by a drunk and pissed off crowd.

  “Where are we going?” Carrie tried again to yank out of his grip, but he was too strong, dragging her down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. She thought she heard voices following them, but the noise of the party was too loud for her to be sure.

  “In here.” He unlocked a dorm room with a key he dug from his jeans pockets—he was still just wearing his boxers, but he’d grabbed his jeans, and it looked like he’d managed to snag most of their other clothes as well.

  “Hey, baby, where did you go?” Carrie heard voices in the stairwell now for sure. “Come back and dance for us!”

  Steve pushed her into the room and shut the door behind them, locking it and flipping a light switch.

  “Where’d she go, man?” They were in the hallway now, pounding on doors.

  “Fuck if I know, but I want some of that!” More pounding.

  “What—?” Carrie started, but Steve’s hand over her mouth stopped her as the crowd passed, thumping loudly on the door and then moving to the next. It was only when the voices had moved to the end of the hallway that he let her go.

  She gasped and glared at him. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Probably saving you from a gangbang.” He tossed their clothes onto one of the twin beds and sat on the other one. “That got totally out of hand.”

  Carrie felt her face flush, and wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or the effect of the alcohol she’d consumed all night. He was right—she was more than a little drunk, and remembering the show she’d just put on made her wince.

  “I can handle myself.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the other twin bed. The voices had faded, but she could hear them, downstairs now, calling. She was still wearing just his t-shirt and she pulled that down over her bare knees. He looked at her, amused.

  “I guess we’re even now,” she said, peering around his dorm room. It was redolent with masculinity, the smell of aftershave and sweat. Her eyes met his questioning gaze for just a moment before skipping away. “Now you’ve seen me naked.”

  “Not exactly even.” He grinned, leaning back on the bed and lacing his hands behind his head. “I haven’t seen you masturbating.”

  Her spine straightened, eyes flashing. “Do you want to? I’m not frigid, you know.”

  “I never said you were.” A smile still played over his lips. “If you were a prude, you never would have stayed to watch me.”

  She blinked at him and then flushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” His gaze held hers, bold.

  “Where’s your roommate?” The more she looked around the room, the more she took in—the medical books lining a bookshelf in one corner; huge, oversize art books lining another. There was an easel on this side of the room, and a desk with drawing pads and pencils. The other desk was messy, full of papers and open texts.

  “He’s out with his boyfriend.”

  “Boy... friend?” She nodded then, understanding.

  “He’s uh... well, I think he’s kind of got a crush on me.” Steve looked a little embarrassed at the admission.

  “Which is why you were down in the showers that night instead of here in your room?”

  “Something like that.” He shrugged, looking at the ceiling. “So tell me something... what were you doing in the men’s room that night?”

  “It’s closer,” she confessed. “I hate going all the way down the hall...”

  He laughed. “Naughty girl.”

  “Sometimes.” She hoped the dim lamp light hid some of the heat rising in her cheeks.

  “And you found me jerking off and decided to watch?”

  The heat was spreading from her cheeks down her chest. “Something like that.”

  “Did it turn you on?” That look in his eyes was familiar. It was the same look he had on his face when he was watching her take off her panties.

  “Yes,” she confessed.

  “Did it make you wet?”

  She didn’t have breath to speak now. She just nodded.

  “Did it make you want to touch yourself?”

  “I did.” The confessions just kept on coming. She couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “You did?” He raised his eyebrows, looking even more interested.

  She nodded, finding it hard to catch her breath, as if the air in the room had grown suddenly thin.

  “Show me.”

&n
bsp; She was remembering, the sound of him, the way he moaned and bucked and fisted himself into a frenzy. The way she’d rubbed her little clit raw while she watched. Naughty girl. Yes, she was.

  “Just like this.” Carrie stood, her breathing shallow already, and lifted the end of his t-shirt up over her thighs, revealing the soft mound beneath. Her fingers slipped between her oh-so-very swollen pussy lips, looking at his face as she made circles against her clit, just as she had that night.

  At first he just watched, his eyes glazed, mouth slightly open. Then his hand moved slowly down to touch himself through his boxers, rubbing there. She could see the outline of his cock and it made her touch herself even faster.

  When he slipped his hand under the elastic band of his boxers to grab himself, she moaned, biting her lower lip. “Please...” she whispered. “Can I see?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Come closer.”

  She did as she was told, moving so her thighs touched the edge of the bed, her gaze falling between his legs as he slid his boxers down.

  “Oh God.” His cock was just as incredible as she’d remembered. “It’s so beautiful.”

  He chuckled and that made her blush, but she was too far gone now to care.

  “Can I touch you?” She was already reaching her hand out and he let her, groaning softly as she wrapped her small hand around the hot, swollen shaft.

  “Can I?” He nudged her wet fingers aside, replacing them with his own. She gasped at the sensation, his hand probing between her legs. She sighed softly when his thumb strummed against her clit, his fingers pressing deep inside of her.

  Her hand moved on him, squeezing at first, then tugging, rubbing his pre-cum onto the tip of his cock with her thumb. Her breathing matched his, her hips rocking, eyes half-closed.

  “I want to see you.” His fingers curled inside of her, as if drawing her closer. “All of you.”

  She pulled his t-shirt off her head with one hand, letting him have what he wanted. His cock swelled in her fist as he looked at her, chest heaving, breasts swaying as she stroked him faster, faster, hips rolling against the plunge of his hand between her legs.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned and she bit her lip, squeezing him in response. The sound and feel of him, his breath coming so fast as she moved her hand over his cock, the shift and plunge of his hand between her thighs, was all too much.

  “Oh God, girl,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back, his hips driving up hard. “Wait... wait...”

  She couldn’t. Not even if she tried. His fingers buried inside of her were bringing her closer, faster, than she’d ever been. Her pussy clamped down on his hand, her clit throbbing under his thumb, and her orgasm rolled through her like a seismic event, shaking them both.

  “Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned as her eyes closed and her cunt spasmed. “I’m gonna come for you, Carrie!”

  Her name in his mouth! She pressed her hand between her legs, forcing his thumb hard against her clit, rubbing herself furiously.

  “Gonna come!” he announced again, grunting, groaning. “Ohhhh fuck!” His hips thundered up to meet her strokes, spilling heat and wetness over the friction of her fist. She felt her knees wanting to buckle because she was coming, too, again, again, but she held on, her breath coming too fast, her hand squeezing the length of his cock as she aimed him and he splattered his bare belly with even more cum. Carrie shuddered with her climax, cupping his hand against her mound, both of their fingers buried in her sopping wetness.

  When his eyes opened, he half-smiled and gasped out, “You are definitely no Ice Queen.”

  Carrie stood fully then, ears still ringing and body flushed from orgasm, grabbing blindly for her clothes.

  “Hey,” he protested, half-sitting as she pulled on her shorts, her shirt, grabbing her bra—her panties were nowhere to be found. “Where are you going? What—”

  But she didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, pulling open the door and fleeing down the hallway.

  * * * *

  “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, curlin
g 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.

  “No?”

  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?