May
by Simon (Simon@jazzandjava.com)
Did you go to your high school reunion? I just had my
first recently, the ten-year. I'd never expected to go --
it sounded like a stupid idea, when I was actually in high
school -- but as it turned out, I was more curious about
where people had ended up than I'd expected -- and it was
a good excuse to see May.
May was my high school crush -- well, one of them, but the
only one who was more than just a lust object. the other
"crushes," I didn't even really know them -- just admired
them from the other side of the classroom, or passing by
in the hallway. May, though, I actually knew. She'd
moved to town partway through high school, when she moved
back in with her after living with her for a
few years -- we had History together, and Art, and were
lab partners the following year in Bio.
She was cool, you know? Hot, yes -- with dark, ink-black
hair down past her ass, and these big amazing eyes the
color of acid-washed jeans -- but cool, too. We hung out
a little. I would've asked her out -- hell, any of the
guys I knew would have -- except for one thing.
May had a fiancee. Some guy we never saw, who lived in
the same town as her father, some guy she was planning to
marry when she graduated. Now, sure, you and I know that
long-distance high school romances don't mean shit, but at
the time, I respected it. She was engaged, so I didn't
ask her out.
Someone else did. After I'd graduated, it turned out a
buddy of mine asked May out, and they were that couple who
ended up right after high school, for all of two
and a half months. I didn't hear about it until years
later, when I got back in touch with May. Some I
didn't even really remember had put us both on an alumni
mailing list, and when May and I saw each other's email
addresses, we caught up over a few weeks.
It took a bit to get over that novelty of how we'd both
changed, but hey, ten years, you have to expect that. We
rehashed high school, exchanged what gossip we had about
other people, and confessed our mutual crushes, followed
by our immediate "shit, I wish I'd known at the time." So
it goes, right?
We started flirting, the usual kind of thing, the way we
would have in high school if we'd known to -- and it
escalated from there to a little R-rated email while we
were bored at work, and a phone call which veered very
close to phonesex but didn't quite make the leap. When
she asked me if I was going to the reunion, I said yes
right away, although until that point I hadn't planned to.
Neither of us brought it up again for a few months. We
talked about the usual day to day stuff, while the
organizers of the reunion went on about whether to hold it
at the country club or the hotel ballroom where prom had
been. Then, about a week before my trip back home, she
hit me with, "So, do you have a date for the reunion?"
"Ehh, no. I mean, you know, Sammi and I broke up a year
ago. I haven't been seeing anyone, not seriously."
"Kinda thought you might ask me." Now, May had a
boyfriend. I still wasn't sure how serious it was -- but
a boyfriend was a boyfriend.
"John's not going?"
"Nah. John didn't go to high school with us, after all.
Besides, he has some stuff at work he can't miss. I told
him I'd go by myself."
"Maybe ... we could go together, then."
"Are you asking?"
"I'm asking."
"Then I'm saying yes."
We made our arrangements -- I wanted to see my folks while
I was in town, and was going a few days early, she was
leaving the night before, so we decided just to meet
there. The committee had decided on the country club,
after much debate.
I've never liked formal things, and it seemed a silly
thing to dress up for, so amidst the rented tuxedos of car
salesmen and Brooks Brothers suits of tax attorneys, there
I was in plain blue jeans and a black shirt. What the
hell, it was good enough. The country club had changed a
lot -- my were members, but I hadn't seen it in
years. The clay tennis courts had been paved, and
everything had been repainted from that mid-80s teal and
aquamarine to a more contemporary burgundy and dark blue.
I'm sure it'll be something else at the 20th reunion.
I dicked around the ballroom for awhile, saying hi to
Marc-who'd-become-a-state-rep and Tom-who'd-just-gotten-
divorced-and-wouldn't-shut-up-about-it and Christie-who'd-
taken-a-job-at-her-father's-firm. It got very boring,
very fast. Sure, there was that novelty value of finding
out what people had been up to, but let's face it -- 10
years later, the people you went to high school with are
people you don't know.
Ahhh, but then it paid off. I recognized her right away.
Her hair had become fuller, shinier, and was cut
differently (don't ask me to explain how: I'm a guy); her
figure had filled out a bit; and I'd swear her legs were
longer. But she still had those big blue eyes, which I'd
know anywhere. I had a moment to look at them, before she
turned, found me, and smiled. She was a little more
dressed up than I was -- a tight black dress of some kind
of soft material, accentuating her long neck and legs,
ending a few inches over the knees.
I finished my conversation with Bill-who-was-working-on-
his-PhD, and hurried across the room to give May a hug.
She hugged me tightly, her dress soft like velvet against
my fingertips, and it might have been my imagination, but
I thought I felt her arch against me, just for a
moment. She was soft, and firm, and warm, and I don't
know what perfume she was wearing, but I loved it, the
smell of it mixing in with that of hotel shampoo in her
hair.
"Hey," she said, squeezing my hand and staying close
enough for me to feel her warmth as she let go.
I grinned. "Hey yourself. Bout time you showed up. This
place is pretty lame."
"Doesn't sound like much has changed, then."
But we made the rounds, individually and together, and
munched on the buffet some. Mostly I was looking at her,
getting used to seeing her ten years older, and I think
she was doing the same with me. I was definitely getting
a vibe, but I wanted to wait ... you know? Make sure it
was really there, that it wasn't something I was reading
in, or something based just on her remembering our
unspoken mutual crush.
The party drifted a bit -- the country club was closed for
the night, but no one stopped us from wandering the halls,
and we shared some laughs with a couple we'd been friendly
with in school, remembering how at prom, Mickey and Angel
had been caught having sex in the pool by one of the
chaperones. No one could agree on who had caught them --
Mr Chambers, the math teacher, or Miss Jones, the
spinster history teacher.
The other couple drifted back to the ballroom after
awhile, and May gave me a sidelong look. "Think they
locked up the pool?"
My heart skipped a beat, and I took her hand, leading her
down the hallway to the smell of chlorine. "Remember your
swimsuit?" I asked, as I tried the door. It wasn't
locked, no, and after a little fiddling I found a
lightswitch -- the one that illuminated only the lights in
the heated pool, casting a blue-green light up at the
strangely empty room. She just gave me this look, one I
hadn't seen on that face before, reinforcing that sense of
the new overlaid on the familiar, and walked to the pool's
edge, the shallow end with the steps leading in, and
started to unzip her dress.
She stepped out of it, leaving her in adorably plain pink
panties and bra, and started to walk down the stairs into
the water, without waiting to see if I'd follow. I did,
of course, although it struck me for a moment that even
with just the light from the pool, that was plenty for
anyone walking by to see us. Well, so it went, I'd take
the risk. Wasn't like there was a chaperone this time.
I stripped down to my boxers, and by the time I was on the
first step, she'd taken the last, in up to her thighs in
the water, her still dry, but the water sloshing
up gently and almost touching them. The water was warm,
shower-warm, and the underlighting cast wavery
watershadows across her pale skin as she turned around,
walking slowly backwards into the water as I came nearer.
With that dark black hair, those spectrally big blue eyes,
and the light making her seem even paler than she was
naturally, she looked like a ghost, a siren beckoning me
into the deep.
The water wavered between us as I followed her wake,
warmth enveloping me up to the hips before she grinned,
crooked a finger, and then dove backwards, disappearing
into the low-lit pool. For a moment all I saw was the
ink-black hair, pooling up to the surface before being
yanked down by her dive.
I dove in head first, following her across the Olympic-
size pool. It had been years since I had done any real
swimming, but her legs were long, strong, and practiced.
After a moment I caught a glimpse of them, scissoring back
and forth deep beneath the surface, her shining
pink against her tight ass as it flexed in front of me --
and then I had to rise for air, and when I came back down,
she was gone. Nowhere to be seen.
I was most of the way across the pool when I felt a leg
brush against mine, and then bubbles laughed up as she
pushed me down towards the bottom, her legs kicking back
and forth far above me and then propelling her off the
edge of the pool before I could catch up.
She kept playing with me like that for awhile: I'd feel
her pressing into my back before she slid off me,
letting them follow the line of my spine -- or her hands
would stroke my ass and thighs -- or her hair would
balloon up against my chest, her lips brushing over my
skin -- before she drifted away and swam off faster than I
could catch -- but we were slowly moving towards the far
end of the pool, where she had less room to run away.
And that's how I captured her -- she swam between my legs,
shoulders pushing against my thighs, and I squeezed my
legs together and up, bringing her up to the surface and
against the corner of the pool, as I grabbed the polished-
stone side and kissed her hard, pressing her against the
wall. She kissed back like she'd been hungering for it
for years, and I guess we both had -- for a long while,
God knows how long, all I was aware of was tongue and lips
and teeth, every combination thereof. It was more than
kissing, it was hunger, greed, lust, power, combat,
courtship. We didn't even touch except at the mouth, but
we didn't need to, not yet. For that moment, having her
tongue in my mouth, having my lips and teeth around it,
was like having her, every inch of her.
Her hair had fallen in scattered locks around both
of us, and my shoulders were nearly dry, when we finally
stopped for breath, and the wavering greenblue light
reflected back from her eyes as she pushed me back away
from the wall, locking her legs around mine as she tugged
my boxers down. Her came off easily as my hands
slid over her ass, and we drifted as we undressed each
other, letting our clothes float behind us, rubbing wetly
skin-to-skin. Her nipples were darker than I'd pictured
them, or maybe only seemed it against the paleness of her
skin, with areolae my thumb would barely cover, and her
pubic hair was a small dark patch between her legs, slick
with poolwater.
We swam against each other, and she grabbed the edge of
the diving board as her legs wrapped around me, her
slicking along the length of my cock as I shuddered,
steadying my bobbing body with hands on her hips and feet
pressing against the edge of the pool. Her big eyes still
looked hungry, needy, as we guided ourselves together,
water splashing as I pulled myself up against her and she
pushed down, my cock sliding easily into her first inch,
muscles tightening around me for the rest of her depths.
Her thighs tensed, half in and half out of the water, as
she arched her back, hands behind her clutching the diving
board, and we started to rock together in a liquid rhythm.
I licked the taste of chlorine from her, working my mouth
down slowly and erratically from her neck and collarbone
to her breasts, letting water trickle from her hair over
her nipples before I lapped it up, my lower teeth grazing
against the underside of her areolae before the
skin around it into my mouth, massaging it with my tongue,
suckling hard as she gasped, freeing a hand to clutch at
the back of my neck, pressing me against her.
I bit all around her soft breasts, leaving purplish
crescents behind, her moaning growing louder every time I
bit, my nails digging in to her hips, raking down below
the surface to her ass and feeling the muscles work there
as she clenched me inside her, the water splashing between
us as I straightened my legs with every thrust, struggling
to push deep.
May's hand slid off the diving board suddenly, as I bite a
hard circle around her nipple and tugged it between my
teeth, and we bobbed under the water, her hair swirling
around me, both of us kicking our feet hard against the
edge and just gliding, drifting across the pool as we
wrapped our bodies around each other, mouths all over the
other's skin, hands roaming and clutching and squeezing,
hips colliding as we rolled over and over.
Minutes later, I felt my knee brush against the bottom as
we reached the shallow end, and I pushed her down against
it, her back pressed to the stairs and keeping her head
above water as I planted my knees down, grabbed the stair
rail, and pulled myself forward with a solid jerk. She
grunted, biting my ear hard enough to draw a pinprick of
blood as I shoved her with my hips, my cock sinking deeply
and easily into her as her ass ground against the stairs
and her legs wrapped around me, ankles crossed to squeeze
me. The water churned around us, splashing out of the
pool as we worked against each other, grinding and
twisting, not caring about the abrasions we were getting
from the rough pool bottom against our skin or the sting
of the chlorine. I felt myself start to throb, and her
eyes widened as she pulled her mouth from my neck, shaking
her head. She'd been biting hard -- I could feel the
sharp sting as the chlorinated water splashed up at the
red she'd left behind.
"Not inside me," she murmured, her voice as quiet as the
sloshing of the water, and she pushed her hands down on
the stair, "Not there." She slinked away from me, chest
heaving and sighing as she drew me out of her, and then
turned me around until I was sitting on a middle step.
May's hair pooled up again, over my lap, as she sank into
the water and took my cock between her lips, bubbles
tickling against the shaft before she began bobbing
fiercely up and down, determined to get me off before she
ran out of breath. I grunted in surprise -- have you ever
been off underwater? It's almost not recognizable
as a blowjob, it's something altogether different -- and
ran my fingers through her hair and down her back,
clasping her to me, trying to remember to prepare to let
her up if she started to suffocate.
Her tongue worked me over with the same vicious, eager
hunger with which we'd kissed, rubbing and swirling and
stroking from the base to the head, as she used every inch
of her mouth: lips crinkled a tight seal around me, cheeks
stroked the sides of my shaft, teeth grazed the edges, and
the opening of her throat accepted the bulbous head before
tightening around it, milking me as she jerked her head
quickly back and forth, moaning with a mouth full of me,
until at last -- it must have been less than a minute -- I
came, arching my back until I nearly hit my head on the
poolside, pushing my hips up to lift her out of the water,
feeling her around me, gulp me down, tighten her
lips to force out every drop.
My cock was still twitching when I grabbed her by the
shoulders, pushing her roughly down on the next-to-top
step, and kicked my legs out from under me to bring me
quickly down to her level, my face burying itself between
her spreading thighs. The water came just barely up to
her pussy, splashing upwards against my face and her
crotch as I ate her out, rubbing her clit with my thumb
and the flat of my tongue, delving her insides, letting
her taste overpower the chlorine. It took longer for her
to come, but I didn't mind: I could breathe, and took my
time, bringing her right to the edge and then practically
stopping, as I pulled her forward just enough to tease her
asshole with my middle finger, my lips pressed to her clit
but motionless except for the occasional tongue flicker.
She groaned and twisted her hands in my hair, grinding
against my face, and I relented, opening my mouth and
sucking her clit tightly between my lips as my finger sank
into her, her muscles tensing in surprise before relaxing
and taking it. I could feel her wet thighs quivering
against my cheeks and pressed her into the water, rubbing
her clit with my lips and the tip of my tongue, until even
my submerged ears could hear her moans piercing the empty
room.
We lay there for I don't know how long before we realized,
in unison, that we weren't alone -- that the low sounds we
heard weren't the distant party, or the water against the
edge. Mickey and Angel and five or six of their friends
had seen the light, and had had the sense to stay quiet
enough that we didn't notice them until enough blood came
back to our brains to wake us up from our distraction from
each other --
-- something they still talked about at the twentieth
reunion.
It wasn't the last time I saw May, but that's a for
another time.
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