Letters to the Baumgarters

by Selena Kitt

  “When you dropped me off at the post office, you were talking to a man,” I explained. “Well, not just talking…”

  “Ohhh!” His eyes brightened with understanding. “Well, then I guess I have a confession to make as well.”

  “You really are gay and I was just a fling?”

  “No.” He smiled. “I’m bisexual.”

  Well that explained everything, didn’t it?

  “Does that bother you?” he asked.

  “Actually, no.” I sat back in my chair, making yet another confession. “So am I.”

  He looked surprised. “You have been with both men and women?”

  I nodded. “My last committed relationship was with both a man and a woman.”

  “Interesting.” He went back to working on his cheeseburger, already halfway through, chewing thoughtfully. “I’ve been with men—and women—but never both together.”

  “You should.” I grinned. “I highly recommend it.”

  “So how did this happen?”

  I considered not telling him—I’d kept my relationship with the Baumgartners a secret, not something I was ashamed of, but more like something precious that might be spoiled by sharing it—but he looked so curious and interested and open that I confessed that too.

  “I met Carrie and Doc about a year before I left for Italy.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  And so I did. I told him about meeting Carrie and Doc, about their slow seduction and my ending up in love with them both. It had been an amazing year of my life, something I’d fallen into while my marriage to Mason fell apart. They weren’t the cause of the end of my relationship with my ex, but they were both there to pick up the messy pieces, and I would always be grateful to them for that.

  “Both of them? You loved them both?” Nico cocked his head at me.

  I nodded. “I did. I do.”

  “But they are married?”

  “Yes, and very much committed to each other,” I explained. “They loved me and included me, but it was always clear that theirs was the primary relationship. And I was okay with that.”

  “Fascinating.”

  Of course, I left out the part about being in the middle of a messy divorce from Mason at the time. That didn’t seem relevant. Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

  “You are a mystery, bella.” He was done with his meal, leaving a few fries on his plate, an afterthought, and he leaned over to take my hand.

  “Nico…” I looked down our hands twined together on the table, remembering the way our bodies melded, dissolved, becoming one. “I can’t help feeling like we’ve opened Pandora’s Box.”

  “Yes, perhaps we have,” he agreed, rubbing his thumb against the crease in my palm. “But the thing is, you can’t close it once it’s been opened.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Me?” He grinned. “Hell no.”

  We both sat back as the waiter appeared, refilling water glasses and asking if we needed anything. We dismissed him as quickly as we could, wanting to keep our focus on each other. I could feel the energy between us, hotter than any sun, and I couldn’t help but turn my face toward it.

  “Do you have to go back to class this afternoon?” Nico inquired, leaning in again.

  “No.” I met his eyes, full of wanting. “Do you have to go back to work?”

  “I should.” He shrugged. “But I don’t want to.”

  I bit my lip, tracing the wet rim of my water glass. “What if I asked you to come back to my room?”

  Nico half stood, waving at the waiter. “Check!”

  * * * *

  “Shhh!” I begged him to be quiet. Cara Lucia was home and while she was, thankfully, hard of hearing, she wasn’t completely deaf. I’d had to sneak him in, up the back stairway, which happened to be right next to my room. Lucky me. The other students weren’t so fortunate—two of them had been caught already this year sneaking paramours into their rooms and one had actually been asked to leave. He couldn’t seem to stop inviting women to his room. I definitely didn’t want to be kicked out—real estate was at a premium and rooms were hard to find for students.

  “Sorry,” he apologized, catching me in his arms as I shut the door. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  “Do you want some coffee?” I headed for my little kitchenette, petting Jezebel on the way. She had come out to investigate the intruder, sniffing at Nico’s pant leg as he followed me. Cara Lucia’s rooms were designed for exchange students. We had our own bath and shower in each, but just a kitchenette—no stove but a small refrigerator, hot plate, a little table and two chairs.

  “I have tea. Some juice?”

  “I don’t want anything but you.” Nico sat on one of the chairs, scratching Jezebel behind the ears. “Come here.”

  I did and he slid his hands around my waist and pulled me close, nuzzling my belly as Jezebel twined around our legs.

  Nico sighed dreamily. “I think I’m addicted to you.”

  I relented, following the slope of his shoulders, feeling the muscles there, as he looked up at me, smiling. “So your mother and sisters seemed surprised you brought a woman home.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t do it often.”

  “Why me?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head, his eyes bright with humor. “Are you a witch?”

  “Sometimes.” I grinned. “And here I thought I’d converted you.”

  “No.” He chuckled. “But a woman like you could definitely convert a gay man.”

  “You like what you see?”

  His gaze moved over my breasts, outlined by the tight fit of my sweater. “Very much.”

  “It’s different in the day time.” We had seen so little of each other in his room. The experience had been just flesh and heat and sensation.

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  He kissed me, his mouth soft and open, drawing me in. I let him explore with his tongue, let his hands roam over the soft material of my sweater, even let him rub the seam of my jeans between my legs.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, lifting my sweater to feather kisses around my navel. I pulled my sweater off over my head, revealing a pale, pink bra underneath. He smiled and teased my dark nipples through the sheer material, making them harden. I bit my lip as he slid his hands up to my waist and pulled me closer, his tongue lapping at my nipples through my bra, making wet spots.

  “I want to see all of you.”

  I let him undress me, my jeans joining my sweater on the floor. The panties matched the bra—I had put them on with the forethought that he might end up seeing them today—and he licked along the top edge of the elastic, making me shiver with anticipation.

  “Let’s go to bed,” I suggested, taking his hand and leading him. He was still fully dressed, but I wasn’t having any more of that. I sat on the edge of my bed and he let me undress him, unbuttoning his shirt, opening it to reveal the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his belly. His jeans were next, his cock already nicely tenting his boxers. I knew the feel of it already, but the sight of it was spectacular, the way it curved up toward my mouth when I freed him so inviting I had to take his length between my lips.

  “Oh yes,” he whispered, hands in my hair, urging me on. The thick, black nest of his pubic hair tickled my nose as took all of him into my mouth, watching his face change as I began to really suck him. “Oh that’s so good!”

  His praise just made me work harder, taking him in my fist too, using both hand and mouth to pleasure him. He began to thrust his hips, easing his swollen length in and out between my lips, reaching down to cup my breast while I sucked him. It was easy to become eager, greedy. It had been so long for me, and having a cock in my mouth made me melt into a puddle of lust.

  “Easy,” he urged, sliding his cock out of my mouth, rubbing it over my lips, my waiting tongue. “So hungry.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He smiled, pushing me back on the bed, the weight of him delightful as
he kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the hard press of his thigh between mine, the wet, shaved lips of my pussy like a hot suction cup against his leg. He groaned softly against my mouth as I began to ride him like that, using the length of his thigh to rub myself off.

  His mouth moved down to my breasts, teasing one nipple and then the other, sending shockwaves through my body. I looked down at his dark, curly head in wonder—how had this happened? His hand was wrapped around the length of his cock, not stroking, just squeezing, the mushroom tip red and swollen. It made my mouth water and my pussy clench.

  “I want to taste you.”

  I didn’t object. He kissed his way down my belly, my breath held, making it concave. Parting my lips with one finger, he began to explore the soft, pink folds of flesh like a maze or a roadmap. I felt his breath on my thighs and spread them wider for him in encouragement. He smiled, kissing the top of my cleft, so near my clit but not quite touching it, making me whimper with anticipation.

  “Beautiful,” was the last thing he said before covering my pussy with his mouth.

  His tongue flicked gently at my clit, back and forth at first, then in easy circles. I lifted my hips when his fingers found the entrance of my pussy, probing, easing their way in. My flesh swallowed his fingers, eager for more, and he pumped them in and out as he licked me, driving me higher and higher.

  “Oh yes!” I cried when he slid in a third, stretching me wide, his mouth fastened over my mound. “Fuck me like that! Harder!”

  I heard him moan against my pussy, his fingers moving into me, deep and hard, the motion shaking my whole pelvis, making the bedsprings squeak and my hips rock up to meet his hand. I couldn’t help it. It felt so good I could hardly keep from screaming—and I’d been the one telling him to be quiet!

  “Yes, yes, yes!” I twisted my hips, feeling his fingers turning inside of me, his tongue tracing delicious geometry all over the sensitive bud of my clit. “Oh fuck! You’re gonna make me come all over your face!”

  And that’s just what I did, spreading my legs and thrusting up to meet his flickering tongue, his pounding fingers, my orgasm tearing through me like a whirlwind, leaving me shaking in its wake. I was still recovering when he kissed me, letting me taste the musky milk of my pussy on his tongue.

  “Tastes good, no?”

  I nodded, licking at his lips and chin, making my way down his chest, rolling him to his back. His nipples were hard and I flicked them with my tongue, making him shiver in response, his eyes half-closed, watching my descent.

  “Your turn,” I teased, tracing circles around his navel with my fingernail, following the dark treasure trail leading down from belly button to pubic hair. His cock was wet with pre-cum.

  “Don’t make me come,” he warned before I’d even taken him into my mouth. “I want your pussy.”

  “And she wants you,” I purred, skipping his cock altogether and heading straight for his balls. They were heavy in my hands and I rolled them gently, grazing them with my fingernails. He moaned encouragement when I began to lick them, teasing his sac, watching pre-cum seep from the head of his cock in sticky, clear rivulets.

  “Oh god!” He moaned when my fingers found their way down between the crack of his ass, pressing gently, teasing that dimpled recess. “Oh yes!”

  Encouraged, I left my finger there when I took him into my mouth, watching his face twist with pleasure when I inserted it up to the first knuckle. I’d had plenty of men do this to me—but very few who would let me do it to them. It was a delightful, and very exciting, surprise.

  “You need to stop,” he murmured as I began to pump my finger in and out, the same rhythm I was using with my mouth on his cock. “Before I come in your mouth.”

  “I don’t mind,” I gasped, taking him out of my mouth only long enough to say the words.

  “I do.” He pulled me off again, biting his lip as I slowly slid my finger out of his ass. “Come here.”

  He settled me on top of him, his cock rising toward my navel, making an exclamation point between us. His hands roamed easily over my body, belly, breasts, hips, thighs, as if he could discover my flesh like a blind man reads Braille. I reached down to press the wet head of his cock against my belly, rubbing it gently in circles with my palm, seeing his eyes half-close at the sensation.

  “I want to be inside of you.”

  He didn’t need to ask me twice.

  I went up to my knees, squeezing his cock as I aimed it, his gaze focused between my legs as I slid down his length. He parted my wet flesh easily, his hands moving to my hips, guiding me, in control, even with me on top of him. I slid my palms along his chest, letting the dark hair there curl around my fingers, teasing his nipples, grazing them lightly with my fingernails.

  “You’re naughty,” he murmured as I rocked, a nice, slow ride. My nipples were so hard they ached, and he thumbed them, making me moan in response.

  “Here,” I said, guiding his hand down to my pussy, whimpering when his fingers found my clit. “Yes. Oh god yes, like that.”

  I felt his cock swell inside of me as I began to rock faster, matching his rhythm against my clit. Our breath came faster, our bodies starting to sheen with sweat. Sex in the light of day gave us both a new perspective, and I found myself looking into his eyes as we fucked, seeing far too much emotion there and wondering if he saw the same in mine.

  “Fuck me from behind,” I said, loathe to take him out of me, but not knowing if I could stand seeing the hungry look in his eyes anymore.

  “Like a dog?” He chuckled as I got to my hands and knees on the bed, offering my ass up for the taking.

  “Yes.” I closed my eyes, feeling his hands on my hips, his cock already seeking entrance. “Fuck me like a dog.”

  I meant it, and I think he knew it. He shoved deep into me, the angle tighter now, better for us both. I reached under and rubbed my clit as he fucked me, the sound of us filling the room, two animals in heat, rutting together.

  “Harder!” I hissed. “Deeper!”

  He thrust again, again, grunting with the effort, giving me what I wanted, and I loved him for it. I was going to come like this with his cock buried so deep I could almost taste it, my pussy stretched with the glorious width of him.

  “So tight,” he moaned, lost too, and I found him with my hand, feeling him driving into me, using the heel of my palm to rub myself off. “Oh god, I can’t… I can’t…”

  “Come on!” I urged, lifting my ass higher to meet him. “Do it! Oh fuck! Fuck!”

  And then we were coming together, quivering and trying to drown our cries so no one heard the sounds of our lust. My eager pussy convulsed around the pulsing length of his cock, milking him, draining him completely. Nico collapsed onto me, the hard, lean, sweaty length of his body so good against mine I thought I must be dreaming this, all of this.

  I even asked him, “Am I dreaming?” as he rolled to the side and gathered me into his arms.

  “If you are, then I’m dreaming too.”

  I considered the possibility, touching the charm around my neck as we drifted in the hazy afternoon sunshine, wondering which would be better—dream or reality.

  Chapter Three

  Dear Carrie and Doc,

  Janie sounds like a handful! The pictures you sent of her in the outfit Cara Lucia made were so sweet it made my uterus skip a beat. She’s growing so fast!

  Remember that guy I told you about, the gondolier, Nico? We’ve been seeing more of each other. A lot more of each other. I’m not ready to call it a relationship yet, although his mother and sisters have us practically married with two kids in their heads already. Mama Dorotea talks about wedding dress fabric every time I see her and shushes Nico when he insists her arthritis is too far gone for her to be sewing. Never mind that she’s talking about sewing a wedding dress for a nonexistent wedding!

  But in spite of all the mama’s boy stuff—why do I pick men who can’t cut the apron strings?—can I just say, in all honestly, I
haven’t had sex like this in so long. He reminds me a little of you, Doc—so insatiable. And Carrie, you’d like him. Oh what fun we could have with Nico, you and I! That is, if Doc didn’t get too jealous. I know how he gets about sharing you, even if you’re okay with things the other way around. The more I watch people and the relationships around me, the more I realize how special you two really are. You’re in your own category altogether as far as I’m concerned. I don’t think many people get to experience what we did together. And yes, I miss it, and I miss you.

  Maybe it’s because I deprived myself for so long, I don’t know, but I can’t get enough of Nico. And he… oh my god, he is a greedy boy. My little room at Cara Lucia’s has paper-thin walls and while we can sneak up to his attic room at his mother’s, I feel funny about it, and it’s clear she doesn’t approve. So we find ourselves looking for alternatives and I’m beginning to think we need to get our own place just so we don’t get arrested!

  * * * *

  “Not here,” I whispered as Nico kissed me into a narrow alleyway, the cool brick biting my back, pressed hard against the wall.

  “Yes here,” he insisted, and I cursed myself for wearing a skirt to school. March was flirting with April and the weather had been sunny and bordering on warm all day, prompting my choice of outfit.

  “No, no,” I protested, but telling him no was impossible. He took what he wanted, when he wanted. I couldn’t deny him, and even as my mind forbid him, my body responded, my hips thrusting to meet the hard press of his cock through his trousers, my mouth opening under his.

  “I can’t wait,” he murmured, his hand cupping my mound through my skirt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. My cock has been hard for hours.”

  “We could get caught,” I whispered, eyes closed with pleasure as he rocked the heel of his palm against my pussy. It was still daylight and anyone passing by the alleyway could see us. “Arrested. What would your mother say?”

  “I don’t care,” he growled, yanking my skirt up to my waist, exposing the black flash of my panties underneath.

  “Nico!” I gasped when he went to his knees, unmindful of the suit he was wearing, burying his face between my legs.