“Well.” I shrugged. “I’m shaved.”
“Completely?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“What a shame.” She tsked at that idea. “You should leave a little bit of that blonde. That would be sexy.”
I smiled. “Maybe I will.”
“So what do you think?” Mrs. B put her arm around my shoulder, turning so we both faced the mirror. “Will Doc fall out of his chair when we walk downstairs?”
“His eyes are going to pop out of his head,” I assured her. “You look so beautiful.”
She did. That red dress, those red nails and lips. She was stunning.
“So do you.” Mrs. B fingered the ends of my hair, falling like corn silk against my shoulders. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you found someone to bring home tonight.”
“Mrs. B!” I raised my eyebrows, surprised.
“We wouldn’t object.” She squeezed my shoulder, dropping a wink. “You just have to be discreet.”
“Of course!” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do anything like that. I mean, especially if the kids were home.”
“But they’re not,” she reminded me. “Come on, let’s go shock my husband.”
Something happened when I walked down those stairs. Doc was in the kitchen sitting at the table flipping through a magazine and he glanced up when he saw Carrie appear at the bottom of the stairs. I was right behind her and I saw his eyes widen, a smile starting at the corners of his mouth. Then I came up beside her as we approached, and his gaze shifted to me. His eyebrows went up and his jaw dropped and he literally gasped out loud.
“What do you think?” Carrie prompted, smirking. “Will we do?”
“Oh you’ll most definitely do.” Doc stood, still looking at me with that hungry gaze.
He was quite a handsome man, strong jaw and gorgeous dark eyes. And I knew he had an incredible body. There was a gym at the hospital where he had privileges and Mrs. B said he worked out there. Even if I hadn’t seen him naked, I could see he was fit. He was dressed for clubbing, just a tight white t-shirt, an unbuttoned navy dress shirt over that, and jeans. Since I’d been living with them, I’d seen him dressed more casually, but somehow tonight it was different.
“How did I get so lucky, getting not just one but two gorgeous women on my arm?” He offered one to Mrs. B and another one to me.
Mrs. B didn’t seem to mind the way Doc admired my too low-cut, too-short dress. In fact, she commented on it.
“Isn’t she something?” Mrs. B asked as we got into the car, her in the passenger seat, me in the back. “She’s going to get all the boys tonight. And all the girls.”
“Oh I don’t know about that.” I laughed.
“It feels so good to be kidless for a little while.” She sighed happily, leaning back in her seat and turning on the radio.
“Enjoy it,” Doc said. “Because we’re going to be up nights pretty soon.”
“I know.” She smiled over at him, sliding a hand over his leg. “We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”
“How are you feeling about the whole baby thing, Gretchen?” Doc asked, meeting my eyes in the rear view mirror as he stopped at a light.
“Who doesn’t love babies?” I asked.
The club was dark and they’d decided to do an eighties night for their opening, so we walked in to Hungry Like a Wolf by Duran Duran. Doc walked us to a table and then went to the bar to place an order for drinks. I sat back, looking around, taking it all in. They made it ladies night, so Mrs. B and I had gotten in for free. As an advertising ploy, it had worked. The place was packed.
“Want to dance?” Mrs. B leaned in to talk to me, but she still had to yell. She nodded toward the dance floor, already loaded with writhing bodies.
“Let’s wait for Doc!” I yelled back. I needed some liquid courage before I got up to dance in this dress.
Thankfully he returned loaded down with drinks, sliding into the booth next to Mrs. B. There were booths lining one wall, tables against the other. The rest was a dance floor, with the DJ up high in a balcony section. High overhead was an old fashioned disco ball they had turning with multi-colored lights flashing. It was like old-school clubbing night.
I downed my mojito, feeling the alcohol burn my throat and heat my chest.
“Come on, baby, let’s dance!” Mrs. B grabbed Doc’s hand, nudging him out of the booth with her hip, her dress riding high up on her thighs. She glanced back at me, holding out her other hand. “You too!”
So it was the three of us on the dance floor together, mashed up with all of the rest of the sweaty bodies, Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer thrumming through my whole body. I watched them dance together, their eyes meeting, so much heat between them I almost had to look away. There were a hundred people around us and yet the moment was intimate, between the two of them.
And then they looked at me, and suddenly, it was between the three of us. I looked between the two of them, feeling Mrs. B’s hip bumping up against mine, Doc’s hand sliding over my lower back as we moved together. It was a fast song, but our movements were slow, sensuous, deliberate. They included me, separate at first, and then sandwiched between them, Doc behind me, Mrs. B in front, her arms around my neck, my hands on her hips.
It was like sex with our clothes on and the excitement rose, higher and higher, her breasts pressed to mine, Doc’s hands on my hips, and I felt his cock against my ass. He was gloriously hard and grinding, making me gasp and whimper. My reaction made her smile, dancing closer still, her thigh riding up between mine, so soft and smooth it was intoxicating.
I gave into it completely, riding the Baumgartner wave. I don’t know how long we danced, but it was long enough to start getting blisters on my feet from my too-high heels. We finally made our way off the dance floor, finding the booth we’d vacated now occupied. Instead, we made our way to the bar-I was panting, I was so dehydrated-and quenched our thirst with more alcohol. Which somehow just made me thirstier.
“Bathroom!” I yelled to Mrs. B, pointing to the “restrooms” sign above an alcove.
She nodded, taking my elbow and we both went, signing to Doc where we were headed. Even the bathroom was crowded, but at least it was quieter. We waited in line, both of us cooling off, our backs against the cement block walls.
“Having fun?” Mrs. B asked, glancing over at me. We were so close, our shoulders were touching.
“Totally,” I replied with a grin, using a popular eighties phrase, making her laugh.
When it was my turn, I went into the stall, pulling my damp panties down my moist thighs and peed, biting my lip when I wiped. My pussy lips were fat and swollen, my juices slick, requiring another pass. My clit throbbed and I actually considered just getting myself off right there in the stall, getting it over with, releasing some of the tension. But there were too many people waiting. Including Mrs. B.
We washed our hands at adjacent sinks, next to girls even younger than me standing in front of a full length mirror, adjusting hemlines and touching up makeup. I glanced in the mirror, checking my own makeup, noticing Mrs. B doing the same. Her hair, long and curled for the occasion, fell in ringlets over her shoulders. My own, so blonde it was almost white, was bone-straight, no matter what I tried to do, so I didn’t fight nature.
“Ready?” She met my eyes in the mirror and winked, reaching for my hand.
I took it and we made our way out of the bathroom, which wasn’t easy. Everyone seemed to need to relieve themselves at the same time. We found Doc at a booth-he waved us over. Mrs. B let me get in first, and I slid in next to Doc. Then, instead of getting in next to me, she slipped into the booth on the other side, sandwiching him between us.
He smiled, putting an arm around his wife, but not around me. We’d been so close, dancing together. My God, I’d felt his cock pressed against my ass. My pussy was still aching for it. I reached for my drink, taking a long sip, my gaze sweeping the crowd. Most of them were my age, or even younger. I wondered if the Baumgartners felt out of place. Why had they suggesting coming here? I wondered. In the time I’d lived with them, I hadn’t known them to do anything like this. Of course, this was the first time we’d been without the kids.