Many thanks to Jenna for first editing and improving this story, to author/editor
ColetteJulie
, whose stories are so hot they'll melt your eyeballs, for further editing and suggestions that inspired me to make it much shorter and better, and to author/editor
Amela
, who plays with readers' minds in her unusual stories, for additional fixes and inspiration to finally solve the problem of the protagonist's motivation.
The high school slut was looking at me.
She sat at the other end of the bar. I recognized her instantly though it had been more than twenty years since I last saw her. Damn, she looked good!
My hair was thinner and I had gained a few pounds. For Catherine, it seemed as if time had stood still. If anything, she looked hotter than when she was young.
I felt a stirring at my crotch and laughed at myself. She was turning me on the same way she did when I was a pimply teenager. I wondered if she recognized me. She was with a young man who wore tight clothes that showed off his muscles.
As I looked at her, I imagined myself at eighteen again, in my senior year, lusting after her. A couple of things she had said to me had given me the impression that she had been approachable. Why didn't we ever get together?
She was the most beautiful girl in school, as well as the most developed. And she was insatiable at a time when most girls were scared of sex.
She was notorious for offering herself to every boy who said something that made her laugh or did anything to please her. She didn't seem to discriminate by race or looks, but the rumor was she turned away bullies and conceited rich guys.
The girls hated her, but most of the guys treated her with respect. There were a few who tried to put her down and call her names, probably because she had rejected them. But every guy I knew who had been with her told me that she was awesome, and that they would drop everything whenever she summoned them.
Her voice startled me, and I snapped back to reality. She and her friend stood in front of me.
"Hi Ronnie. How are you?"
"Great, Catherine! And you?"
"I'm fine. This is my friend, Harold. I was telling him that we were friends in high school, but we never hooked up."
"Ummm...I don't know what to say."
I think I got red in the face because she laughed.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you look cute when you're embarrassed?" she asked. "Don't worry about Harold. He knows all about what I did in high school. Did you ever wonder why?"
"I hope you forgive me for being a clueless, sex-crazy teenager. I didn't even think about what was happening in your home. You always seemed so positive and happy. Now I realize it was probably an act to cover up some terrible mental or physical abuse. I can't pretend that I wasn't eager to have sex with you. I was just like the others. For some reason, I never did."
Catherine smiled.
"Yes, you never did," she said with a sigh. "What you just said about me -- I've heard it so many times when I've run into kids I knew in high school. But it's all wrong.
"I wasn't abused or raped or anything like that. My family was as American as apple pie, and my brother and sister were like all the other kids. My life changed in seventh grade. Sex education really turned me on. I started experimenting, and I couldn't get enough of it! I still can't."
I saw her eyes light up and decided to change the subject.
"Do you live here?"
"No, I'm staying at the hotel and leaving tomorrow. How about you?"
"Me too," I said. "I've been in town on business calls. It was an exhausting day, and I've got an early flight. It was so nice running into you. Let me buy you and Harold a drink before I leave."
"Thanks, but you don't have to."
I heard a change in her voice tone from the polite friendliness that she had been using. It sounded like every word was perfumed with lust, and her eyes were gleaming as she looked at me. I glanced at Harold and wondered if he noticed.
Hearing that voice and seeing how good she looked, I would've jumped at the chance to take her to bed, except it was too late. I'm happily married, and even though I was out of town at a hotel where nobody knew me, I would never cheat on my wife.
I'd fantasized about adultery when I had to travel on business. After a day packed with meetings, I'd sometimes end up at the hotel bar for a drink. I saw a lot of beautiful women, most of them probably hookers, and I imagined things, but I never approached anyone and politely turned away those who came on to me. It was safer to watch porn in my room.
"It's my pleasure," I said, waving over the bartender. "Would you please take an order from this couple and put it on my room?"
Catherine ordered a martini, Harold a beer.
"Put it on Room 3016," she told him.
"No, I insist," I said. "Put it on 5023."
"Thank you," she said to me and then turned and nodded in the direction of Harold. He nodded back.
We touched glasses when the drinks came and talked a few minutes more. She asked me a lot of questions about what I had been doing since graduation, and I answered politely, trying to concentrate on winding down the conversation and ignoring her seductive voice, lascivious gaze and body language that left no doubt about what she was trying to do. I finished my drink and wished her and Harold a good night.
A few minutes later, I was already undressing in my room when I heard a knock on the door. I put the chain on and opened it a crack. It was Catherine.
"Look what Harold found," she said, holding up my wallet.
"Oh my god," I said. "Thank you so much."
I reached out for her to hand it to me, but she had stepped back and waited for me to open the door. I was in my underwear, and I didn't want any misunderstandings, so I asked her to wait a minute. I quickly pulled on my pants and opened the door.
As I did so, someone big grabbed me and lifted me in the air, carrying me to one of the two queen-size beds before throwing me onto it on my back and holding me down. Then I couldn't see anything as I felt flesh push into my face.
Whatever was pushing at me slid down, and I could see what it was. It was Catherine's naked butt. My eyes were uncovered, but she was still sitting on my face. I felt her pubic hair against my lips and tickling my nose. I saw Harold standing next to the bed. It was so bizarre that I would have laughed at the scene if I had not been in the middle of it.
I heard Catherine's voice from above.
"I'm sorry about this, Ronnie. I was hoping you'd make a pass at me and we would come up to your room together, without Harold. But you are a faithful husband. I compliment you for that.
"You're wondering what's going on, and I owe you an explanation. I wish I could do it face to face, but you'll have to listen in this position. I hope you're not too uncomfortable.
"This goes all the way back to high school. Despite being obsessed with sex, my brain has room for other stuff. Only my counselor and the teachers who saw my IQ score knew this. They were always telling me that my wild behavior would ruin a great career. Choices have consequences. If I heard that once, I heard it a hundred times. I didn't listen to them, and I didn't go to college.
"Instead, I went to trade school and became a cosmetologist. I found out that there is more sex of every variety available in the beauty industry than probably in all the others combined. It starts during school and never stops.
"When I graduated, I went to work at one of the big chains. Because of some suggestions I made to improve things, the boss made me assistant manager, and when he was promoted, I took over. I made a few changes, and my store won the award for the most productivity that year.
"A vice president showed up one day and took me to lunch and pumped me for ideas. The following week, he called me and asked if I'd be willing to move to corporate headquarters as his assistant.
"Corporate headquarters was almost as wild as beauty school and the salon. I moved up fast. I suppose it helped that in addition to being good at work, I also slept with nearly every man and woman in the office. When they found out that I didn't ask for anything in return, they gave me more than I would have ever imagined.