(Everyone involved in sexual activity in this story is over 18 years of age and any similarities between this story and real life are purely coincidental)
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Growing up on the grounds of a summer resort center near the beach in California, afforded me the opportunity to meet a large number of girls as they passed through on vacation each year with their families. One of those vacationers was Sherilynn.
It was the early-1980's and so, with the exception of snail mail and land lines, it was impossible to keep in touch. Not yet lived were the days of Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and the rest of the stay-connected, social media sites. However, Sheri and I managed to stay buddies throughout high school and early college; eventually losing touch as I moved even further away, got a job, and a wife.
Sheri and I were never romantically involved. Just two young people who enjoyed each other's company at a movie, picnicking, riding around in her dad's fast car, swimming in her pool, and just hanging out and laughing. As I look back on those times, she was definitely a babe and without a doubt very desirable, but we just never went there; exchanging that kind of awkwardness for a platonic friendship.
Fast forward 7 years, my company decided to have me work one week out of every month in our regional headquarters a few hours from my home. The excessive, late 80's, corporate travel life consisted of luxury hotels, fine dining, large bar tabs, mobile phone bills, and a welcomed, party-like break from the hum-drum life of a young, unhappily married man.
While at home one weekend, I was rifling through some old paperwork when I stumbled across one of my "little black books" from my younger days. The names and addresses that were included barely scratched the surface of the stories of good times that lay behind them all. Maureen from LA, Kathie from San Diego, Annette from Nevada, wow! All those incredible memories. And then, Sherilynn. Oh my god. The memories came flooding back: The beach; Togo's sandwiches; movies; the park. I looked closer at her contact information and, low and behold, she was from a town very close to where my company was now sending me once a month to work. I tucked the little address book into my briefcase. Next week, I would be working out of the remote office and needed to satisfy my curiosity as to whether Sheri was still around.
I remembered she worked in a flower shop and, armed with that information and an unlimited expense account for my mobile cellular phone (such a high-tech novelty for those days), I decided to dial a few places on the 2-hour drive from home to my hotel-home for the week ahead. On one of my first few tries, I hit paydirt.
"Hello, is Sherilynn there," I asked as they answered the phone?
"Well, she is with a customer. Can I help you," the reply came from a co-worker?
"Um, well, let's see. She was working on something specific for me, so maybe it is better that I speak directly to her," I bullshitted.
"Okay. Well, give me your number and I'll have her call you back when she gets a chance."
"Okay great. This is John and she can call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx. Thank you."
And now, I would simply have to wait to see if she would call. I began to wonder what I'd say. We really didn't have very many lasting memories together, just simple, homegrown, good times that she'd probably had with any number of people. I wondered whether she'd even remember me. That would be awkward; having to explain...
Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello, this is John. Can I help you?"
"Hello. This is Sherilynn from the flower shop. You called about an order we were working on, but I am very sorry I don't have any memory of working on an order with someone by your name recently," she explained.
"This is John. Togo's #23. Do you..."
"Oh my god! John! What the hell are you doing? How are you? Where are you? How long has it been," she cut me off peppering me with questions?
"It has been quite a while. I found your name in an address book a little while ago and knew I would be up in this area soon and, well, I remembered you worked in the flower business, so I started poking around."
"Wow. I can't believe it is you. I always figured I would never hear from you again," Sheri said.
"Yep. It is me. Listen, I don't know what your situation is, but if you're free sometime this week, let's get dinner and hang out."
"I would absolutely love that. I don't care what I have going on John, I'll cancel my plans to see you."
"Well thank you. Is tonight too soon? What time do you get off work?"
"Tonight will work. I get off at 5. I should probably go home and change since I am covered in flower clippings and I can be there by 6. Does that work?"
"Perfect. This is my cellular phone number. Why don't you call this as you are leaving your house and that will give me a heads up?"
"Wow. A mobile phone? Don't you live the fancy life. Sure. That works perfectly. What hotel are you staying at," she asked?
"I am at the big Marriott."
"Oh, very nice. That is only about 20 minutes away from me. I'll see you later on this evening. I am so glad you called me John. I am so excited to see you."
Well. That couldn't have gone any better for me. I checked into my hotel, headed out to grab some wine for the room from a local grocery story, and laid back on my bed. I dozed off, but was woken up by the ringing of my room phone. "Hello, this is John."
"Hello. Front desk here. We have a visitor for you, Sherilynn. Do we have authorization to send her to your room?"
"Oh, um, yes. I mean, I'll come right down to the lobby and meet her. Thank you."
She had surprised me by not calling before she left home and so, all at once, here it was; just an elevator ride away from seeing Sheri. I hadn't seen her in years and, with all that goes on in the life of a 20-something, it seems like it had been an eternity.
Rounding the corner into the lobby, I caught a glimpse of a somewhat dumpy, overweight, permed-hairdo woman at the front desk. I froze in my steps. And then, from the side, I heard, "John? Is that you?"
I turned to my right, facing the small bar in the lobby and, just retrieving a drink from the bartender, there was Sherilynn. Dressed in a pair of older work jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, hair up in a bun, clutching a small duffel bag, looking haggard, this wasn't the "WOW!" moment I had hoped for. "Yes. Sheri. It is so amazing to see you after all these years," I replied. Her outfit certainly didn't highlight her figure and further didn't match the custom-tailored, italian suit pants and monogrammed shirt I was wearing.
"Sorry I didn't call from home first. Given the day I had, I needed this drink as soon as I could," she laughed. "And, please excuse my outfit. I got home late after work and didn't want to stay any longer, so I just through some things in this bag and was hoping I could change in your room."
"Sure. You can change in my room. Come on up," I said with a relieved tone in my voice. Her beautiful smile, fun attitude, and cute-as-hell face left me holding out hope that the gorgeous body I had fantasized about since setting up tonight's meet-up would soon be revealed. As we rode the elevator to my floor, we made small talk and agreed, if nothing else, that we were both starving and needed to get some food before we both took on a "hangry" attitude.
Once inside the room, Sherilynn excused herself to the area of the bathroom vanity, around the corner from the main room, and not into the enclosed area with the shower and toilet. I sat on the bed and started thinking about where we might eat dinner, and more poignantly, thinking about what she'd look like after she changed. Glancing toward the mirrored closet doors that were just inside the front door of the hotel room, a slight design flaw in the room became my greatest pleasure. I could see a perfect view of her changing.
She started by straightening her hair and was in the process of slowly unbuttoning her jeans and peeling them off. She pushed them to the floor and off, one leg at a time, and revealed, from behind, a perfectly shaped, slightly bubbly ass, adorned with a black thong, that was supported by two, long, well-tanned, legs to heaven. She pulled off her hoodie, and t-shirt that was underneath, all in one move, exposing a black, lacy, push-up bra that was holding her firm, 36D breasts in place. At 5' 8" tall, Sherilynn wasn't a small woman by any stretch of the imagination, and her ass and tits were in perfect proportion. I could feel my cock twitch in my pants. This is exactly what I had hoped for and yet, we had always just been buddies, so all I could likely expect was to enjoy this view. Sherilynn pulled on a very short, tight-fitting, floral print dress that made her look like a million bucks. Wow. What had I been thinking all those years. She was a fucking hot babe.
Fortunately, my brain caught up with my dick and I jerked my head away from the view just as she came back around the corner. "Ready to go. Does this look better," she asked as she twirled around?
"Wow. Yes. You clean up very nice. I was, um, just sitting here thinking of places to go eat. There's a fun Mexican restaurant within walking distance. Does that sound good?"
"That sounds amazing. Lead the way," Sheri said.
"No no. After you," I said, wanting to enjoy another view of her well-shaped ass in her dress.
We ordered drinks, dinner, and had a wonderful time laughing, remembering the good old days, and catching up on life. At a silent moment in the friendly chatter, I went a little deeper. "So, I don't see a ring, is there a man in your life?"
She paused awkwardly and hesitated, "Well, yes. I mean, I am dating someone, but we don't live together. He really wants us to move in, but to be honest, he's not the one for me. I just know I would never be happy with him long-term; whatever that means."
"Okay, that makes sense. Someone as stunningly beautiful as you, with a great attitude, shouldn't settle for less than the best," I added.
"Thank you. That is very sweet. And you? You don't have a ring on, but I know you got married."
"Me? Yes. Married. We're a happy couple when we're on vacation together each year and happy when I'm away on these business trips. But, I think we both know we're not happy at home. To be honest, she likes her friends a lot more than me and I am beginning to think she's a lesbian," I said with a slight laugh. "If she is, I hope she hurries up and decides that she wants to bat for the other team."
"Ha ha. I can't imagine someone not wanting you."
"Sherilynn, can I make a suggestion? For the sake of tonight, let's pretend no one else exists and we just talk about each other and laugh the way we always did."
