High School Reunion
My friend Patty is a tall, slender dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty with two adorable kids and an adorable husband. She's confessed to a number of mild flirtations just, as she explains, to make sure she's still attractive, but she enjoys her stay-at-home Mom lifestyle. But, when a once-in-a-lifetime situation arose, she couldn't help but take advantage of it. This is her story.
At first I ignored the email, thinking it was spam. But the name seemed familiar β Rhoda Schwarz. Rhoda. Hmmm. Then I remembered who it was. Rhoda was frizzy haired redhead who ran for class president our senior year in high school. Who in their right mind ran for class president, anyway? Like-
who cared
? Of course, I was her campaign manager, so I was just as bad. I read the email and laughed. She was letting me know about the ten-year reunion that was going to take place in a month.
As if
. As if
I
cared.
Okay-I admit that I knew right away who Rhoda was and what the email was probably about, but I wanted to put high school behind me. I hit the
delete
key and went about my business. But then I got another email, this one from Ollie Bluth. Ollie! Blue-eyed, dark-haired, Ollie, a guy who could have been cute if he wasn't such a dweeb. I mean, come on. President of the math club? His problem was that, despite being somewhat cute, he was soft and dressed like you'd expect the President of the math club would dress.
"Are you coming to the reunion," he wrote. "I'd love to see you."
I took pity on Ollie and wrote back. "Are you bringing your wife?" I had to see if the dweeb had actually attracted someone.
He wrote back. "She's staying at home with the kids."
Before I had the chance to respond, I got another email, this one from Chad Barnes. Chad was the dumpy, lumpy black guy, the equipment manager for the football team. You know, the guy who got the towels for the players. He, too, wrote, "Are you coming to the reunion? I'd love to see you."
I responded just as I had responded to Ollie. "Are you bringing your wife?"
He wrote back, "Nope. She's working that weekend."
Then, like magic, before I had a chance to respond to Chad, I got an email from Kenji, the Japanese exchange student who was, of course, the smartest and least popular kid in school. I admit that I relied on him for some tutoring, though. His email said, "Are you coming to the reunion," he wrote. "I'd love to see you."
I wrote back. "Are you bringing your wife?"
"Too pregnant to fly," he responded.
So the dweebs and geeks emailed me, but no one else. Wonderful. So, here's where I admit that I wasn't the most popular girl in school either. I was twenty pounds overweight, wore thick glasses and kept my nose buried in my books. The truth is that my only friends were the four people who had emailed me. None of the other guys paid any attention to me at all and the girls-well, I had a few weight-oriented nicknames that I'd rather not repeat. Oh, all right-the mean girls called me
Fatty
.
A lot changed in the past ten years, though. In college, I suddenly became
cool
.
Really
. I got in shape, played field hockey and was very, very popular. Now I was ten pounds underweight with a toned body and, after eye surgery, glasses free. I guess the fact that my boobs didn't shrink when I lost weight had something to do with my popularity, especially since I liked to let them swing free under loose clothing.
That settled it. I was ready to go to the reunion. I wanted my dweebs and geeks to see the new me and I wanted to flaunt my new self in front of those kids who had ignored and teased me. Still, high school memories don't fade easily though. I was kind of apprehensive, so I asked my husband if he wanted to go.
"You
despise
the kids you went to school with," he said. "I don't understand why you want to go, but I don't want to have a weekend of bitching and moaning from you about the nerds who would follow you around like puppy dogs and the other people you can't stand. You go.
Please
. Have fun. I'll watch the kids."
Sigh. Whatever. He was probably right. The geeks would gravitate to me like bees to honey and the other kids. But my real concern was everyone else-you know, the rest of the kids in high school who had ignored me. I was still intimidated by them, but I was gonna try like mad to make them wish they had paid attention to me.
I had three weeks to get in prime shape and I used them to maximum advantage. I shed five more pounds, added a little more butt muscle, worked furiously on my tan and was, if I say so myself,
hot
! In those three weeks I also squirreled away some cash just in case I needed some new clothing when I arrived at the reunion. Since it was taking place at a resort near my high school in Arizona, I figured I'd need a bathing suit. Oh, I packed one alright, but not the kind I really wanted. I wanted a tiny bathing suit to make a bold impression and, despite his liberal nature, my husband would have objected to my packing a string bikini. I needed cash because, if I bought a new suit, credit card charges would have given away too much information. I should have known right then and there that I was beginning to act suspiciously, but the thought never occurred to me.
I was shaking the morning of my trip. I decided to wear a simple button down top, jeans and my cowgirl boots instead of something sexy, but my husband found my outfit incredibly sexy. Every time I started to button up my top, he'd unbutton it. I giggled and tried to run away but he always caught me until, finally, I was on top of him with him sucking on my nipples as I dragged them over his face, riding his cock like I was riding a bucking bronco.
"Fuck," he whispered. "You are so beautiful. Those ex-schoolmates of yours are goann...
ummm
...wish they had...
oooh
...been nicer...
nnnn
...to..." His hot cum splashing into my drenched pussy set me
way
over the edge. I sat straight up, squeezed my tits with one hand, reached behind me to feel his slippery cock sliding into me with the other and cried out his name as my orgasm made me break out in goose bumps. I thought for sure that our morning love making would have been enough for the entire day, but it turned out I was just getting warmed up.
****
I landed in Arizona at eleven in the morning. "Sorry," the hotel clerk said. "No check-ins until three."
Damn! I thought I was going to be stuck for hours doing nothing. Then I heard Kenji's familiar, sharp Japanese accent call to me. "Patty. Is that you?"
I was stunned when I turned around and came face to face with him
. Oh my God
! Kenji was incredible! He had grown about six inches and was, based on what I inferred from his tight tee shirt, sporting a six pack stomach. And, to top it off, he had died his hair blonde! His new hair contrasted beautifully against his naturally dark skin which was now even darker with a spectacular tan. He was
awesome
.
"My God," I gasped. "You look so...
different
!"
"Yeah," he laughed. "I play in a rock band now and...well...it's part of the look, you know. Me a punk rocker. Can you imagine? And you. Wow! You look so beautiful. But, you know, I always thought you were. I can't get over how...I mean...your body...uh...Anyway, I've been waiting ten years to see you again. That's why I..."
"Wait," I said. "You thought I was
beautiful
?"
"Sure," he said. "Couldn't you tell? I was always so nervous around you, but enough of that. How about a proper hello?"
I was truly shocked that anyone would have found me beautiful in high school, but I laughed at Kenji's
proper hello
comment. We hugged and kissed-on the cheeks, of course. But out hug lasted, perhaps, a bit longer than it should have, getting tighter with each passing second until we finally separated. After our peck on the cheeks, I whined a bit, saying, "I can't check in for hours. What am I going to do?"
"Hell," Kenji said. "I checked in yesterday. You can crash in my room until later and-I know-let's go to the pool."
Let me tell you-after sizing up Kenji in a tight tee shirt, I wanted to see him in a bathing suit for sure! "I...I need to buy a bathing suit first," I said. "This place has some shops. Will you help me pick one?"
My
goodness
. His leer could
not
have been more obvious. I swear he almost drooled. Like a gentleman, though, he carried my suitcase and we chatted politely on the way to the shops, carefully avoiding references to spouses. I rummaged through the bathing suit racks until I found a skimpy black bikini on sale. I held it in front of me and asked Kenji, "What do you think?"