The Baumgartners Plus One

Doc kept filling my wine glass and his own, but Carrie refused, drinking cranberry juice instead.

“How apropos,” I noted with a laugh. “You know you are a true domestic goddess, right?” I leaned back and held my bursting stomach. I’d planned for this and had worn a skirt with elastic, not a zipper.

She smiled and took a sip of her wine. “I like to do stuff like this.”

“I know it sounds caveman of me.” Doc leaned over and kissed her cheek. “But she’s a born wife and mother.”

She flushed a deeper shade of red and looked pleased. “I never had a mother, so I don’t know.”

“You’re not lacking for it. You mother everyone and everything.” I laughed as she fed Jezebel a piece of turkey from her own plate. The cat had put on weight since we’d moved in. So had I. We all had. Carrie cared for all of us very well, in spite of her own lack of care growing up in the foster care system-or maybe because of it.

“Maybe I’ll get the opportunity to be a real mother someday,” she said as she started to clear our plates. Doc and I exchanged glances, and I think we both felt the pain emanating from her.

“You are a real mother.” I clutched her wrist, holding her as she reached for my plate. I’d doubted it too often myself-how could I be a real mother, if I didn’t have a living baby? Our eyes met and I saw tears in hers and knew she’d understood.

“Who wants dessert?” She took my plate and headed to the kitchen. “I’ve got caramel apple pie and ice cream or pumpkin cheesecake.”

“Homemade of course,” Doc added. He was looking at me in a way I hadn’t experienced before and I wondered what he was thinking about the exchange that had just taken place.

I groaned. “I’m going to pop!”

“It’s only once a year,” she reminded me, putting our plates in the sink and reaching up in the cupboard for dessert ones.

“And there’s always room for pie!” Doc added.

I laughed. “I thought that was Jell-O?”

After we all had a piece of each-because who could decide?-Doc made Carrie sit down so he could clean up. She protested, but he insisted and I helped him while she curled up on the couch under the blanket and watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Carrie had popped a VHS tape in early that morning because she was too busy cooking.

“I watch it every year,” she told me, rewinding the tape. “It’s a tradition. I love the floats.”

Doc did the dishes and I dried and put them away. Then it was time to tackle the food.

“This turkey is enormous!” I protested. I felt like I’d been stuffing it into Tupperware for hours as Doc carved the rest of it off the carcass.

“We’ll be eating turkey sandwiches until Christmas,” he agreed, setting aside the wishbone and bagging the rest of the bird before washing his hands. Jezebel mewed a protest seeing all that good turkey on the carcass going into the garbage while I put the leftovers in the fridge.

“Looks like someone succumbed to the Thanksgiving tryptophan,” I observed, glancing around the corner to see Carrie curled up and sleeping on the sofa.

Doc smiled fondly at her, going over to tuck the blanket up to her chin. “That’s what happens when you get up at five in the morning to cook a twelve pound turkey.”

“A twelve pound turkey for three people!” I exclaimed, shaking my head. “She could have bought a pre- cooked Butterball and been done with it!”

“Not my girl.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek. She was angelic when she was sleeping. “She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Watching him with her, seeing how much he loved her, gave me a lump in my throat. “So, about this Key West thing…” I started to change the subject.

“You’re coming and that’s final,” Doc said firmly, taking the tablecloth off the TV

trays and starting to put them away.

“Is that so?” I picked up my glass of wine from the kitchen counter, hiding my smile behind it. “And what are you going to do if I say no?”

“Spank you,” he replied promptly, putting the TV trays in their stand. “Besides, I miss seeing both of you in bikinis. You wouldn’t deprive me, would you?”

“Spank me, huh?” I raised an eyebrow.

He pushed “stop” on the remote and turned off the TV, turning to see the grin on my face. His eyes got a mischievous glint as he crossed the room toward me.

“So are you going to argue about it?” he inquired, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me near. I moved my wine out of the way so we could be even closer.

“I just might,” I breathed.

“Bad girl.” He kissed me and I let him, his tongue probing, seeking entrance. He had me pressed against the counter and I felt him growing hard against my leg so I slipped my hand down to squeeze him through his jeans.

“I may just spank you for the hell of it,” he gasped when our kiss broke, his eyes dark with lust.

“Promises, promises.”

“Brat.” He slid a hand up under my skirt, parting my thighs, and I spread for him, my eyes half-closing in pleasure as he pushed my panties aside to feel me. “So wet already. You are bad.”

“So spank me.”

He glanced over at Carrie, still sleeping on the couch. We’d been together plenty of times, the three of us, but Doc and I had never done this-not alone.

“I want you.” He kissed me again, sucking at my tongue, making me moan into his mouth. “Now. Here.”

“Here?” I squeaked, looking at the bedroom door just a few feet away, and then at Carrie, snoring gently under a blanket.

“Yeah.” He grabbed my hips and shoved me up onto the counter. Thankfully, all the dishes were done and put away, so it was now clear. Pushing my knees back, he pulled my panties aside and leaned in, burying his face against my wetness. “Oh god you taste so good.”

“Mmmm,” was all I could manage as his tongue made fat, lazy circles around my clit. I reclined as best I could, back on my elbows, putting my feet on his shoulders as he worked his mouth against my pussy. When I looked down between my thighs, I could see he had his cock out, his hand moving slowly up and down the shaft.

“Doc,” I whispered, my eyes closing, hips rocking in rhythm with his tongue. “Oh Doc, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Good girl,” he whispered back, focusing his attention back between my trembling thighs. I arched and gave a short, strangled cry, too aware that Carrie was just over there on the couch and could wake up and find us like this. But I couldn’t stop.

My climax was hot and fast, my pussy clamping down hard on nothing and begging for more. I wanted his cock. I needed it.

I sat up and pulled his face to mine, sucking and licking my pussy juices off his lips and tongue. He groaned and let me take his cock in my hand, stroking him against my hip and thigh as we writhed together, his hands gripping my ass, pulling me as close as he could manage.

“Should we be doing this?” I whispered against his ear, wrapping my legs around his waist. I might have been able to stop if he had said no. Maybe. God knows I didn’t want to. And neither did he.

“I don’t know.” He hesitated, his breath hot against my neck. “But I don’t care.”

I don’t know. Well, that was good enough. Wasn’t it?

“Let’s go to bed.” I slid off the counter and he held me close the whole way, giving me another hard, fast kiss before pulling me into the bedroom. He closed the door behind us and that act made my heart beat faster. Carrie was out there, and her husband had just put a closed door between us.

“Now.” He turned to me, not whispering anymore. “About that spanking…”

“No!” I squealed when he came after me, laughing as he tackled me onto the bed on my belly, his cock a steel rod against my ass. I took his full weight, gasping, struggling, still giggling when he clasped my wrists and pressed them to the bed.

“You’re a bad girl.” He nipped and licked at my neck, his voice low. “And now you’re going to get your