My 10 year high school reunion was a bit nerve-wracking, in theory. Would I measure up to some of these people that I’d never felt on par with during high school? Did any of those cliques even matter anymore? But the real question was whether Natalie would be there, and whether she would be single or married, and of course whether I would finally, after 10 years, be able to tell her casually that I had a massive crush on her throughout my entire adolescence.
She was, to me, the epitome of the high school cheerleader: blonde curls, green eyes, and a body that, far from being overweight, was nonetheless a wonderland of curves and sensuous mystery. The way she filled out the red and gold cheerleader outfit was more than enough to keep me in the stands every Friday night, paying almost no attention to the game itself. All she had to do was stand there to keep me interested, but on the rare occasion when I was treated to a full view of a high leg kick, it would fuel my fantasies for weeks on end. I only spoke to her once during those years, a magical walk from math class to English class, during which we talked about hiking mostly. A common fantasy for me was going hiking with her in the hills behind the school, a trip which would invariable end with the two of us on a blanket in some remote woods, me buried balls deep in that bubbly, curvaceous behind of hers. But I never had the nerve to tell her any of this.
So here I was, ten years later and about to get my chance. About midway through the antep escort night, which was primarily marked by very loud 80’s music and very little room to stand, much less sit, I found myself standing across from her in the back corner of the room. Ten years had, if anything, made her even hotter. She was thinner without the baby fat of her teen years, but no less busty, especially after two kids. I learned this news with considerable dismay, especially when I was also introduced to her husband of four years, who then drifted off to the bar. Well, nothing to lose now, I thought. Completely safe situation.
“So, you may find this hard to believe, but I had a crush on you pretty much from 3rd grade on,” I said.
Something in her response showed me that this was not unexpected news. “Well, that’s interesting,” she said playfully. “I had a crush on you in junior high.”
I was shocked and stimulated at the same time, but mainly I was kicking myself for the things I had missed by being so shy back then. I mean, my fantasies could have actually happened? That was almost too much to contemplate.
From there the conversation turned to what we’d been up to and basically getting to know each other for the first time. She was just as warm and intelligent as I’d imagined her to be. I can’t say there were sparks, and if she had intentions of anything further than a friendship I didn’t pick up on them. Upon hearing that I was in town for another day, she surprised me by inviting me to her house for lunch. I didn’t ask whether or not her husband and kids would be there, and initially declined, but she asked again and something told me to say yes, so the plans were made.
The house was your typical split-level ranch, on a quiet street in our hometown, not far from the high school. Lunch was cordial, with her husband and two children present (a boy, 4, a daughter 3). Other than the fact that I kept wondering what I was doing there, it was perfectly pleasant. I can’t remember much of the conversation due to the fact that my mind was wandering from one illicit scenario to the next. By the time I had finished my tuna salad, I had imagined us banging away in just about every room of the house, not to mention on the table itself. She didn’t help matters by wearing a black tank top with a low neckline that gave an ample view of those fabulously large tits. A hint of a black silk bra strap on her left shoulder brought to mind a smooth black bra straining to hold them from bursting out. I also managed to catch her looking at me several times with what seemed more like curiosity than anything.
When she got up to clear the table I was given a better view of her ample ass filling a tight black skirt and tanned legs leading down to bare feet. Just as she turned to walk into the kitchen, I caught her eye, and somehow I got the message: ‘follow me’. I made some excuse about helping with the dishes and walked the 15 or so feet from the dining room to the kitchen. As I rounded the corner, behind the cabinets and out of sight of the dining room, she had put the dishes down and had turned to face me, leaning backwards against the counter.
The unspoken yearning we had both felt was now more powerful than any worry about the fact that her family was in the next room. In seconds my lips were on hers, devouring her taste, our hands roving over our bodies as if we had only moments to explore everything. My hands trembled as they searched down her back and found her ass through the black skirt. As I palmed each marvelous cheek, I pulled her lower body into mine and felt my straining erection, which was pointed down my right leg, push into her upper thigh. She clearly felt it too, for she let out a slightly startled moan, her hands going immediately to the fabric of my jeans. Her fingers traced the outline of my cock, from base to head. As I moved my hands upward, I slid them under her shirt and drifted up her smooth belly to those satin-bound globes, coming up underneath them until I felt her quickly hardening nipples through the soft, thin fabric.
It was all so forbidden and deliciously naughty, with her husband and children not 20 feet away. We could hear them talking, and would therefore be able to tell if anyone made a move toward the kitchen. While I was busy exploring her luscious lips, she suddenly pulled away, moving to the sliding door that led onto the patio. She slid it open, motioning for me to follow into the backyard. She called to her husband, letting him know that she was going to show me the garden and we would be back in five minutes.
To Be Continued…