"When we recall the past, we usually find that it is the simplest things - not the great occasions - that in retrospect give off the greatest glow of happiness." -Bob Hope
You are warmly invited to hill Christ's 10 years reunion
For the graduating class of 2005
Registration reception on Wednesday, July 7th
At 6:00 p.m.
Sapphire Lounge, hill Christ auditorium
New York City, NY
Activity itinerary to follow.
I read over the e-vite over and over until I can let my brain wrap around the idea of even contemplating the possibility that I might attend the reunion. I shouldn't...I actually couldn't because I had a meeting on the exact same day with a potential client, but maybe I could... uh, forget about it.
What do high school reunions entitle anyways? An august assortment of people exhibiting their exclusive spouses. Estrogen filled naive women having eyes open for their plausible mate or testosterone pumped men primed and lingering for fishes to bait. I wasn't convinced if I would willingly want to put myself in a situation beforehand. Trying to recall a few people that used to be my friends, a few names pop up but the faces are a complete blur.
It's the day of the reunion and I've definitely made up my mind that I'm not going to have any part of it. But then why did I postpone my clientele meeting. You know just in case. Better safe than sorry. I realize the trepidation I feel towards this reunion is not only useless but also wasn't justified. I didn't particularly lead a colourful high school life, very low-key, most of the time immersed myself in books and nothing more. I was also pretty sure I was the only one who was still a virgin during graduation. Well that changed quickly in my sophomore year when I got drunk and decided to lose it and all the inhibitions held with it once and for all. maybe I needed that liquor to take that edge off and make me bold enough to rub up against peter , my best friend's thigh as he sat next to me casually chit-chatting about how Ms. Charles class held no significance in our academic career what so ever. The movement definitely caught him off-guard.
I'd met him on the first day of my college when he offered to help me with my luggage as I dragged it through the hallway in search of my dorm-room. Tall, slightly built, with messy brown hair and black rimmed glasses that accentuated his brown eyes and with a damn cardigan that made you believe he was the perfect good guy who was very capable of some bad, bad things, he was a walking, talking nerd girl's wet dream. In the two years I had known him, he had always been a gentleman, never made a move to suggest he wanted to be more than best buddies and I was more than happy to never change the equation. But all that changed that night. Deciding I had to go bold or go home, I leaned forward pretending to reach for the tissues that were on the other side of the table. The action leading to brush my breasts "accidentally" along his torso.
I heard him suck in a breath but other than that, he made no other move for the next hour or so, even as I tried to very subtly and innocently let him know my intentions.
Deciding that it was perhaps a bad idea to want to jump into bed with your best friend, I nonchalantly made conversation with the rest of our gang. I was too upset about the fact that peter might not share the same intention I did towards him and I stood up excusing myself, feeling a strange buzz on the surface of my skin as I made my way towards the ladies room. I was stopped on the way by a very loud, very drunk man who seem to have been mistaken me for someone else.
"There you are, I thought I'd have to go home with blue balls after all that teasing you did and left me" he said clutching my arms tightly and trying to make me dance. I struggled in his grip but finally freed myself enough to stumble towards the restroom. I stared at myself in the mirror looking strangely wild, free. That was when I thought, if peter doesn't want me, it's his loss. But I was going to lose my virginity. Tonight. Perhaps with some stranger, definitely not the blue balls guy though.
When I left the restroom, it was empty which wasn't that weird considering it was a Wednesday night and place wasn't packed tonight. But what was actually weird, was finding peter right outside the door, waiting for me.
"I was worried. You'd been gone a long time" he said as a way of explanation.
Was I? Really?
"Okay, thank you" I politely said before turning away from him.
"Wait, I..."
"Yes?" I turned around.
"Do you want to go back to the dorm?" he asked as my heart did a flip and landed in my mouth.
I was trying to come up with some witty line through my fog of alcohol when he added "...you seem a little drunk"
He wanted to take me home for that! Not for making my body throb or sweat and so, I certainly wasn't interested.
"No thank you, I'm sure I won't be needing your chaperoning tonight" I was pissed and rightfully so. I finally had the nerve to make a move on him, and what does he offer? To tuck me to sleep in my bed.
"What? Is this about what happened earlier?" if he clearly had to ask then maybe I was better off with someone else.
"What do you think, Sherlock?" I spit out as I decided to hang out for a few more minutes with the gang and then get back to my man-hunt.
As I sat in the table, peter followed suit sighing heavily when I put more distance between us than earlier. Aptly, the topic of firsts came up, when I felt peter graze the skin between my knee and my dress that stopped mid-thigh with the back of his warm hands.
I stiffened at the contact and looked up at him, sipping my drink. He smirked, warming up my insides. His hand slid a little higher, pulling the thankfully not so tight-fitted sequined dress up along with his fingers.
I held the beer bottle tight in my hands, wondering what he might be up to next.
He nudged his hand between my legs, urging me to open wider. I looked up a little dazed that this is my peter doing this. Here. In front of everyone and surprised even more than this was me, opening my legs on his command.
"Good girl" he whispered in my ears as I looked around alarmed that our friends might've heard it. But they were long gone, immersed in their jokes.
I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand when his fingers oh so, casually touched my panties.
"Is this what you want? Is this why you've been torturing me all night?" he said again in a low tone making sure it was audible only to me.
Still unable to believe that it was him, I looked up making sure that those words were really coming out of his mouth and it wasn't just something that I made up in my mind. I nodded, biting my lip when his fingers danced along the elastic of the panties before pulling them to the side with his adept fingers. I felt the cold air hit my most private parts in the most public of the places and even more embarrassing was that we were with our friends who could just lean over and see everything we've been up. My cheeks reddened and I hid it by ducking my head, pretending to wipe some dust off the edge of the table.
With one finger holding the panties hostage, his other fingers traced along my upper thigh, ignoring the area that needed to be touched. Desperately.
But every now and then, I would feel his touch on my outer lips and my body gave out a little tremors.
I looked up pleading him to touch me but he smirked that annoying manly smug one, before taking another sip from his beer.
His thumb tweaked my clitoris in the slightest and a sharp shriek escaped my mouth. Now this, didn't go unnoticed by our friends.
"Are you alright?" James asked.
I showed my thumbs up, because I couldn't form a coherent word.
"You look flushed, are you not feeling well?" Harley
"Maybe she had a little too much to drink?" Jessica
"They're right. you do look a little at unease, are you okay?" peter had the audacity to ask and my mouth formed an o in shock as he started running his forefinger in circles along my opening still smiling with pride.
"I'm alright" I breathed out and my friends got back to their discussions of the next hottest TV show.
I always prided myself on being confident and going after what I want , but in that second when peter's finger slipped in the barest inside me ,I could do nothing but clench my stomach muscles , shutting my mouth tight.
I couldn't dare look at him, to ask him to perhaps continue this elsewhere. I just couldn't. Instead I took the stack of tissues and placing them on my left thigh, started writing down with a pen furiously.
"
Wht r u doing? Stop. V vl get caught"
I pushed it towards him, for a brief second he stopped his movements, squinting in the dark light to make sense of what I've scribbled onto the tissues. And once he did, his left hand which was on the table holding his beer came down and pulled the pen out of my grasp.
"Do you know how wet you are? Ty for the pen btw"
I didn't know what he was talking about so I looked up, brows pulled together when I felt the cold tip of my pen in the exact same spot his fingers were not so long ago.
I exhaled loudly, gripping his knees for support and as a silent plea.
He pressed the pen inside me, and as it slipped further, I started feeling uncomfortable with the cold foreign object being pushed into me and I squirmed in my seat. He immediately withdrew the pen and used it to tweak my clitoris in the slightest.
My eyes went wide as he leaned back casually and said into my hair "would you prefer something a little warmer? My fingers?"
I squeezed his knee, letting him know my answer and in no time, I felt his finger slide up into me an inch or so and oh, it felt so good. So different. Even though I had masturbated a few times before that night, I never had anything inside me, I only achieved a few orgasms with the clitoral simulation of the water from my shower head.
He twisted his finger in the barest, gaining entry and his finger slipped in another inch. I moaned and was met with a couple accusing eyes.
"This beer tastes so good. Mmm" I said having a sip when I felt him knuckle deep inside me. Another finger joining the first, I felt like something forbidden was happening, like this wasn't natural feeling such sharp pain yet so much pleasure at the same time.
As talks of leaving the pub came on the table, peter's fingers started to move, in, out in a determined pace to get me to climax before anyone left. And I felt that tug, the one that I hadn't experienced till now, as he massaged my inner walls to perfection, twisting and pulling relentlessly. I noticed the fast movement of his forearm when I looked down and found him pulling my right leg onto his, spreading me wider. He leaned back, pulling me along with him as he started to stare at where his fingers disappeared and came out wetter every time, not caring that he might get caught or questioned. That did it, I pushed my head back against the couch, closing my eyes and losing myself to the feeling as his fingers rode out every wave uncompromisingly. By now, surely our friends would've figured it out. How could they not? They just saw a girl orgasm.
But they were too busy checking their phones, swiping through what seemed like something very important.
I heard peter say "I sent them the video of Claire getting lap dance from a male stripper just a few seconds ago"
No wonder they weren't paying any attention. I was so thankful that peter thought of that to distract them.
"You like that? Did that feel good?"
"You couldn't tell?" I asked with a sly grin.
"Oh I could tell alright but I'm taking notes, for the next time we do this..."
Next time? There was going to be a next time!
