Caitlyn’s Reunion Union: Facing the Flirt (part 1)
The five-year reunion held some surprises. (part 1)
By PickFiction. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
“Laura, my God, don’t walk through here topless. The blinds are open.”
“Not bothering me, so it shouldn’t bother you.”
She stopped in front of the window, looking around as though everything was normal. The trouble was, for Laura, this was normal. I certainly wasn’t a prude–far from it. But I seemed to have limits my sister didn’t share.
“I just don’t need to have the neighbors wondering what sort of people are living here.”
“You’ve been here for a while, so they know you. It’s just me they’ll wonder about.” She was still standing in front of the window, the bright sun highlighting her very ample breasts, a big smile on her face.
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“Humor me, Laura. Put on a top.” I hated to plead with her–it seemed so degrading, but I knew that Laura enjoyed it in her own sisterly way.
“Do you have a folding chair?” she asked with a giggle. “The front porch looks inviting.”
She was eying the porch to taunt me, but I was looking the other direction.
“You’d better hurry, so you can take the package from the UPS guy coming up the walk.”
I thought she’d dive for cover, but she stood there just long enough for him to wonder if he’d seen them or just imagined it. Of course, now I’d have to answer the door, and he was sure to wonder if it was my boobs he’d seen. And since I couldn’t keep from blushing, he’d be sure it was me.
I gritted my teeth, determined not to blush as he rang the bell. Laura, still topless, crouched behind a chair, laughing. I opened the door, the smile on the rather handsome face causing my cheeks to heat. When I opened the screen door, he handed me the small box. There was nothing for me to sign, so I knew he was at the door simply to get a better look at, hopefully, bare breasts.
I felt a breeze and heard running footsteps behind me. The UPS guy’s eyes quickly left mine and looked over my shoulder. His smile broadened. I got a wink, and he turned and jogged to his truck.
“Thought I’d bail you out and let him know it wasn’t your tits he’d seen.”
“Laura, you didn’t.”
“I kept one covered, Cait. He was a good-looking guy, though. I almost went to the door with you.”
All I could do was shake my head. We were sisters, and not total opposites, but enough different that it was easy to wonder if we’d grown up in the same family. Our older brother never did learn to deal with us differently, thus receiving much abuse from both of us due to his fumblings.
“Are you dressed yet?” I called toward the bedroom.
Laura appeared in the hallway, nipples at attention. “Getting there,” she said, tank top in hand. I owed her one, so when she pulled the tank top over her head, I gave one nipple a sharp twist.
“Ouch, you bitch,” she squealed, bumping the hallway walls as she scrambled away.
I ran into the living room and waited, knowing retribution would be quickly forthcoming. I watched her emerge from the hallway and go into the kitchen. When I saw her again, she was headed toward me, a large wooden spoon in her hand. I was trapped.
“Laura, come on. That thing hurts like hell.” I was backing up, but there was nowhere to go.
“It’s the spoon or your nipple,” she added, a fiendish grin on her face. No way was I going to bare anything and, as I turned to run, I heard a loud “thwack” and felt a searing pain in my left buttock.
“Shit, Laura. That’s going to leave a nasty red welt.” My butt was burning from the whack I’d gotten from my sister.
“We’re even now, so let’s go get something to eat. And, maybe if you let a boob pop out once in a while, you wouldn’t still be a virgin.”
I felt like smacking the big smile off her face, but maybe she was right. We were even…and I was hungry, and she might be right about the boobs thing, too. I just wasn’t sure that should be the first step in losing my virginity. It was just one more of her jabs at what I liked to think of as my “purity.”
“Maybe if you’d show your boobs to the UPS guy, you could have grabbed hold of him.”
“Worked for you, didn’t it,” I said a little snidely.
“Oh, that was cruel,” Laura shot back, “even if it is true,” she added with a giggle.
Laura had always been able to get the guys…get them, but keeping them seemed to be the problem. She’s three years older, and I used to love it when she brought her dates home. I’d drool over them and couldn’t wait till I was old enough to bring my own dates home. When the time came, I discovered that how they looked was only half the story. I seemed to be much fussier than Laura was about that second part, and it showed in the number of boyfriends I’d had.
“Pizza Hut?” Laura asked, straightening her tank top.
Of course, tank tops aren’t designed for undergarments, and it was readily apparent that Laura wasn’t wearing any. I often wondered how two people with shared DNA and raised by the same parents could be so different. I suppose I should be used to it by now, but it didn’t seem that easy. I guess we were both hard-headed-ly set in our ways and were unwilling to bend, while at the same time being unwilling to accept the lack of change in the other.
At Pizza Hut, Laura got her share of hungry looks, which she enjoyed, and some of them seemed to bounce off her and land on me, which, I have to admit, I enjoyed. We didn’t look that much different; it was how we acted and reacted that was so dissimilar.
We found a table, ordered and quickly had our drinks served. I was hungry and ready for some pizza.
“So,” Laura said, “I guess we’re going to Mom and Dad’s for Christmas.”
“Yep,” I answered with a sigh.
“And you’re going to that five-year reunion thing?”
“I said I’d be there. Hasn’t been that long, but should be fun to see what people are up to.”
“Is it a dinner, or what?”
“They’re calling it a Christmas prom reunion, and it’s a dinner too.”
“So, are you going to get a date for the prom?” Laura asked, not able to stifle her laugh.
“I don’t think there’s anyone in my class I’d want to have a date with, pardon my grammar.”
“Not even, oh what was his name?” Laura was thinking, and I wasn’t about to give her any help. “Kirk Fischer, wasn’t it?” A triumphant grin on her face.
Damn, I’d hoped she wouldn’t remember because I certainly did remember. It seemed like more than five years ago that I thought Kirk Fischer was the hottest male I’d ever seen. Laura had no idea I’d “borrowed” her little vibrator to enjoy my fantasies with Kirk Fischer. I’d found an unopened bag of attachments and “stolen” one of them for my use. All of that was my secret. I curled my lip.
“I’d forgotten about him,” I sneered.
“You never were good at lying. I bet you thought Kirk was hot as hell. I did the few times I saw him.”
I hated it when Laura saw through my facade, which she often did.
“Hotter than Benny?”
Benny was her long-time live-in, who’d eventually thrown her out, and I probably shouldn’t have mentioned him, but she handled it well.
“I didn’t know Kirk like I knew Benny, so… Are you anxious to see him?”
“It’ll be fun to see everyone, I guess. I hope they all show up.”
“Well, whatever, but wear something tight that shows off your cute butt, let a little bit of tit hang out, and you might link up with Kirk.”
“Laura, you’re disgusting, and that’s not going to happen.” It wasn’t going to happen, even though it had been one of my fantasies, and I was afraid my cheeks were going to betray me. I looked at Laura, and her smile told me I was right.
“Uh-huh. I’ve got a couple of dresses that should fit you and a couple of other things too,” she added with a leering grin.
“Laura, no way.” That’s what my brain was saying, but another part of me was picturing my fantasy becoming reality. That was a stretch based on my past experience. During my freshman year of college, one good-looking guy had talked me into letting him squeeze a tit and then put his finger where it didn’t belong. It was interesting, but I was so nervous, I couldn’t enjoy it. I guess it was supposed to be exciting, but it wasn’t. My fantasies and the vibrator were much more fulfilling.
“You’re going to do it, Cait. You don’t see any of those people around here, so you’re free to show them what you’ve become.”
“Um, that’s not what I’ve become, sis.”
“They don’t know that, and especially, Kirk doesn’t know that.”
“Will you drop this Kirk thing? I don’t think he ever looked at me unless he had to. Plus, I’m sure some hot babe has gotten hold of him and become his wife.”
“Possible, but lots of hot guys are more interested in just staying hot guys.”
Freaking Laura was making me think. I’d mentioned before that we were almost identical in body size and shape. Maybe we both had the same thoughts–I admit that not all my thoughts were angelic and pure–but, somehow, Laura put her thoughts into action while I turned mine into fantasies. Laura had her guys, and I had…
Sometimes she shared her experiences accompanied by my scarlet cheeks and rolling eyes. But I remembered them all, and they tweaked my curiosity over and over, making me wonder. What would it be like to experience those things personally? And now, she was encouraging me to do just that. Or at least to put myself in a position that would encourage it to happen. Still, the change in physical appearance had to be combined with a change of mind in order for it to happen. I needed to work on that mind if I wanted it to happen.
Christmas with the parents was palatable, with me being the usual Caitlin and Laura being much more Caitlin-esque than usual. It worked much better that way, eliminating most disagreements and arguments. Mom and Dad had a small apartment above their garage where Grandma Louise had lived for the last five years of her heart attack shortened life. It was only thirty miles from my apartment, but Mom and Dad liked for us to stay for a few days at Christmas. Laura and I were staying in the apartment, which gave us a little privacy and a place to talk about things we didn’t want to share with the parents–things that hadn’t happened yet.
I had brought the clothing that I would normally wear to an event like the reunion-prom, knowing that Laura had packed the things she was convinced I’d actually be wearing. She kept reminding me, encouraging me, cajoling me endlessly, shaming me into stifling my inherent tendencies in order to convert my fantasies into reality–at the reunion-prom. She kept mentioning Kirk Fischer, which renewed memories of those several erotic times I’d had…all by myself.
At last, prom night was here. Or, at least, prom day. When I went to the apartment to begin preparations, Laura was there with the clothes she had brought for me to wear. My doubts had nearly dissipated in the past few days, and I was anxious to see what she’d brought.
I showered, and she gave me a manicure, adding a covering of brilliant red polish to fingers and toes. She carefully styled my hair, applied a bit of subtle makeup, which, I had to admit, enhanced my looks dramatically. Satisfied with what she’d accomplished, she went to her suitcase. She returned with the smallest pair of underwear I’d ever seen, except on some porn sites I’d checked. A few strings and a tiny triangle of gauzy material was all there was.
“Laura, my God, I might as well not wear anything.” My heart was already pounding, and I was surprised when she tossed them back on the suitcase.
“That’s even better,” she said, smiling.
I think my eyes were about to exit my head, and I turned toward my own things.
“No, no,” she called quickly. “These or nothing.”
I eyed her warily.
“I don’t think I’m quite ready to go commando, Laura.”
“Then wear this,” she said, retrieving the thong.
The difference between the two options was almost non-existent, but I was committed to doing this, so… I slipped off my robe, ready to don the strings and gauze.
“Whoa, what’s this?” Laura said, laughing one more time.
I knew what she was seeing.
“I’ve gotten so I hate hair,” I said. “I get rid of it.” I shrugged. I didn’t like the smile on Laura’s face since I knew what she was thinking, but I slipped on the thong, its black color contrasting with my pale skin.
“I wish I had a picture of that so you’d remember.”
I could see myself in the full-length mirror, and I wouldn’t forget it. Despite everything, I couldn’t believe how hot I looked standing there nearly naked.
“Well, here ya go,” Laura said, holding a red dress made of some type of material that almost looked wet.
“Wait, aren’t I missing something?”
“Right. It’ll be easier to put your thigh-highs on before you put on the dress.”
“No, no,” I said, gesturing to my breasts.
“The dress will cover them,” she assured me.
“I’m used to having a little more than a dress covering them.”
“Cait, you’ve got a nice set of hooters there, and you need to learn to flaunt them.”
Flaunt my “hooters.” That would be something new for me. Laura held up the dress so I could see the whole thing.
“Front,” she said, then turned it. “Back, and see, it doesn’t lend itself to wearing a bra.”
Now, there was an understatement.
“Laura, in the front, they’ll be able to see my navel, and in the back, they’ll see the string of this thong-thing I’m wearing.”
“Don’t be silly. Just put it on, and you’ll see.”
The only times I’d ever gone braless was when I was in my bathing suit. But Laura was trying to change a modest young girl into what our mother would call a “brazen hussy.” Unfortunately, I was committed to this path and would just have to see what would happen. I took the dress from her.
“Wait, it has a slit up the side, too?”
“You have a nice left leg. Might as well show a little of it, particularly since you’ve shaved it so carefully.”
I glared at her. I knew the hair thing was going to haunt me, at least for a while.
I stepped into it, pulled it up until the small straps were over my shoulders, and turned to let Laura zip it up.
“Is that just a zipper,” I asked, trepidation in my voice. I wasn’t anxious to accidentally moon my fellow prom-goers.
“There’s a hook and loop here…for safety,” she added, giggling. “Here are your heels. Put them on and take a look at yourself.”
I put the heels on, which jacked me up about four inches. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and turned toward the mirror. Slowly I opened my eyes, trying to see myself objectively, not from the shy and timid place I was coming from.
“Whatcha think?”
I was almost afraid to say what I was thinking since what I was seeing was so far from what I’d ever seen before.
“You’re a freaking babe, aren’t you?” Lauren filled in for me.
The v-neck showed cleavage and enough breast that there was no doubt what was there. When I moved, the edges of the slit parted, and a shapely leg was very visible, at least halfway up my thigh. I knew if I took a step, a little more leg would be visible. Laura then offered her “comforting” thought.
“You probably don’t want your nipple bumps to show, and I think the material is thick enough to keep that from happening.”
Who was this standing here thinking about nipple bumps showing? I turned so I could see my back…and that’s what I saw, bare back. A bra would be very inappropriate for sure.
“Kirk whatever-his-name is going to want your body, Cait.”
I knew I looked hot, but I wasn’t quite ready for Kirk Fischer to be “wanting my body,” although, as the thought went through my head, I couldn’t keep from recalling my fantasies. They seemed very vivid.
“Cait, what the hell are you thinking? Despite the cloth, I can suddenly see nipple bumps.”
I’m sure my cheeks nearly matched the dress color.
“We can put bandaids on them if you think they’re going to be a problem.” Laura was working hard to keep from laughing.
I glared at her once more. “I’m not using bandaids,” I grumbled, wondering if the same thing could happen at the prom.
“We need to sneak you out, so Mom doesn’t get a look. She might have a heart attack.”
“Let me make sure I have my car keys,” I said, grabbing the little clutch purse I’d be carrying.
“Forget the car keys,” Laura said, taking them from my hand. “I’m driving you there, and you’re going to have a good time. And you’re going to drink a little and get a good buzz just to see what might happen.”
“What might happen?” I questioned, a little shocked at what I knew she was thinking.
“Yeah, what might happen. If you’re ready to come home, give me a call and I’ll come and get you. If you’re going home with someone else,” she giggled, “just send me a text.”
“My God, Laura, I won’t be going home with someone else.”
“Who knows,” she replied. “Things happen.”
“Well, that’s something that’s never happened, and it isn’t going to happen tonight, either.” The thought of that happening made me shiver.
“Wait a minute. Just because it’s never happened doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”
I could hardly stand the look I was getting from Laura, half-grin, half-smirk.
“Just let it happen. Don’t hold back this time.” She just couldn’t resist teasing me over and over, always like i was purposely holding back. Maybe I was, but it was getting annoying.
“Guh,” was my only reply.
“Didn’t say it was wrong, just unusual.” She’d opened that eye and was just looking at me now.
I realized that dressed the way I was, I didn’t look much like a virgin, but it was true, and I had no plans to change that status in the near future.
I laughed. “So you’ve dressed me like this and are sending me off to get drunk and lose that status. Is that your plan?”
“Not my plan, but if it happens, you might enjoy it.”
I couldn’t help remembering my time with the vibrator, and I’d read that actual sex is way better than a vibrator. Would I really enjoy it?
“I’m not sure exactly what you keep thinking, but there are two bumps on the front of your dress again. Bandaids?”
“Guh.” I glanced down, and they were definitely there. That was twice, just standing here talking to my sister, that it had happened. I guess I needed to steel myself to the probability that it would happen later and just deal with whatever happened.
As I went to pick up my purse, I glanced in the mirror. With each step I took, my breasts swung from side to side, not big swings, but enough to let people know nothing was constraining them. This was undoubtedly going to be an experience for me.
We pulled on our coats and, as we went out the door, I said to Laura, “You’re responsible for whatever happens tonight.”
She laughed.
“You’ll either smack me or thank me.”
Laura dropped me at the door of the Masonic lodge where the reunion/prom was being held. Lurking in the back of my mind was the urge to text my sister right away to come get me. I was struggling with another urge that Laura had created with her talk and the way she had me dress. I took a deep breath and vowed to let Laura’s way win, no matter what…and that made me tremble as I went through the door.
I checked my coat, took a second deep breath, and followed the signs to the ballroom.
“Oh my gosh, is that you, Caitlyn?” Eileen Beresford, one of my best friends from high school days, stood, arms spread, eyes wide, and smiling.
“It’s me, Leeny,” I answered, returning her smile.
“You’re looking good, she replied, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Thanks. This is my sister’s work.”
“Well, the face and body I’m seeing isn’t your sister’s work.”
I knew I was blushing, probably the first of many times this evening.
“Thanks again,” I said as humbly as I could.
“You here with anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Let’s grab a table and sit together so I can enjoy all the guys who stop by to drool over you,” Eileen said, chuckling.
“I’m not going to sit with you if you’re going to keep teasing me,” I said, laughing. Leeny and I had teased each other mercilessly during our high school years, and it seemed to be continuing despite the five-year interruption. We had somehow missed each other on Facebook, but I was excited to see her again.
We found a table and sat down, but only temporarily as we saw other friends and exchanged hugs and lots of laughing. I admit I received several stares from both females and males. The female stares were, well, different than the ones I got from the guys…very different. The ladies’ looks seemed to be accompanied by a curled lip and a frown, while the guys’ looks had a very suggestive smile that accompanied them. I had never been looked at like that…over and over, and it was having its effect on my blood and breathing.
Following Laura’s instructions, I went to the bar to get started on my buzz. The fee for the event included four drink tickets which I decided should create a good buzz or maybe more. I settled on a glass of chardonnay as a starter, which was very, very good. I took a second sip as we sat down, ready for dinner.
Quickly, a delicious meal was served, and six other ladies sat at our table, enjoying the food and sharing life updates. It was much more delightful than I had imagined, and I was anticipating the rest of the evening. Anticipating by finishing that first glass of wine and beginning glass number two.
Tables were cleared, I got glass number three from the bar, and the former class officers welcomed everyone and thanked them for attending. The lights dimmed, the DJ had a few words for us, and the music began. Almost immediately, feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turned my head.
“Hi, Caitlyn. Remember me?”
I blinked to focus my eyes.
“Mason, of course, I remember you.” That was true, but barely so. Mason Petite was a nice guy but so quiet he had been nearly invisible. I remembered that several times I’d caught him staring at me, and I wondered why he’d never asked me for a date. I didn’t consider myself that awesome in high school, so I guess Mason was just too timid. I always thought his red hair and blue eyes, along with lots of freckles and fairly thick horn-rim glasses, gave him a unique look. If he’d asked me, I’d have said yes just to find out what he was like.
“Would you consider dancing with me?” A very hopeful look on his face.
I could see three familiar male faces looking over Mason’s shoulder.
“Mason, I’d love to. Let’s go,” I said, grabbing his hand as I stood up a little unsteadily. I paused for a moment and enjoyed the big smile. When I stood, there was no room for Mason to step backward, so my boobs were suddenly smashed against his chest. Plus, our noses were just inches apart.
“Oops.”
“Sorry,” he said, his face instantly bright red.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” I replied, enjoying the effect I was having on Mason, a new experience for me, aided, I’m sure, by the wine.
The DJ had chosen a slow song to begin, and Mason tried to release my hand on the way to the dance floor, but I didn’t let that happen. Since this was the first dance, there was plenty of room for us. When I turned to face him, his right hand went to my waist, his left holding my right, far out from our bodies. There must have been three feet of space between us. My brain had gotten in tune with how I was dressed, and, particularly with Mason, my actions were going to mirror how I was dressed.
I leaned in close and whispered, “Mason, put your arm around my waist.”
“Really?” he said, blue eyes wide.
I pressed against him so he had no choice, and I thought I could feel him trembling. I pulled his other hand against my shoulder. We were dancing now, and Mason was a good dancer. I turned my head so we were face to face, but not eye to eye, as he seemed reluctant to look at me from this close. But particularly from this close, his aftershave was very enticing.
“So, what have you been up to, Mason?” I was hoping he’d look at me, and when he did, I had a thought.
“I got a boring engineering degree,” he said, looking puzzled as I used my left hand to carefully remove his glasses.
“I like to see your blue eyes,” I said, chuckling. “Can you see okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling at me. He bit his lower lip. “What’s going on, Caitlyn?”
“Nothing’s going on, Mason. We’re just dancing, and I’m enjoying it. And I want to find out a little more about you.” I could tell he was enjoying it too since his “enjoyment” was pressing against my belly. It was a new experience for me, and, in my gently buzzed state, I kept myself pressed against him, despite his efforts to keep it from happening. It was a little cruel, I suppose, but I knew, despite his efforts to avoid it, Mason had to be enjoying my rubbing against his erection.
“Really?” he said, and I smiled at the almost unbelieving look on his face. I watched him take a deep breath. “So, what would you like to know?”
He had started meeting my eyes, and the arm around my waist had lost its tenseness. He wasn’t bad-looking, even differently handsome, and I was quickly enjoying just dancing with him.
“So,” I began, “how’d you like the dinner?”
“Eh,” was his brief reply, surprising me.
“You’re going to have to explain that,” I said, chuckling.
“It was good, but I’m fussy, I guess. I, well, cook a lot.” He looked almost embarrassed.
“Oh my gosh, Mason. That’s fascinating, I said, squeezing his hand. "I’d love to learn to cook really well.”
“I don’t know if I cook really well, but…”
He paused, and I wondered if I knew what was coming.
“I could teach you what I know…if you’d like, that is.”
“That might be fun,” I said and could see the combined relief and hopefulness on his face.
“Really?” he said again, a more confident look on his face this time. “When we get back to the table, give me your cell number, and we’ll work out something about the cooking.”
He wasn’t exactly bubbling with confidence, but he was way further along than when we’d begun.
“It’s a deal,” I said, and the look that came across his face had me instantly enchanted by this shy redhead. “And what other hidden talents do you have?” I teased, much more at ease now.
“Not hidden, but I play a little guitar.” He shrugged.
“And I love to sing,” I added as the music stopped.
“Caitlyn, can we sit down for a few minutes…and talk?”
I smiled. “Sure, Mason. But I’m enjoying dancing with you. You’re an excellent dancer.”
Another red face as we walked back to my table, Mason with his hands in his pockets.
I had a huge smile, surprised at my reaction, so different than my usual virginal reaction to things like this. I was still a virgin and had no plans to have that change this evening, despite my sudden and unusual enjoyment of the rather mild sexual experiences so far.
As Mason was sitting down, he couldn’t hide the readily apparent lump in his pants. I wondered if he had caught me staring at it. I smiled at him and handed him my last drink ticket. He was quickly back from the bar with my fourth glass of wine and returned my ticket.
“I used one of mine,” he volunteered as he rejoined me.
But he did have a pen and piece of paper in his hand and I gave him my cell number.
“Hey, Caitlyn, how about a dance?” another classmate said, bounding up to the table.
“This is Mason’s dance, Steve. The next song is yours.” He nodded and moved away to another table to wait.
Mason told me about one of his engineering projects, and I was amazed at how exciting he made it sound, his voice conveying his enthusiasm for what he was doing. This wasn’t the Mason I remembered.
Soon a new song had begun to play, and Steve was extending his hand. I was back on the dance floor, and the dancing this time was fast and energetic. I was very conscious of my breasts bouncing and swinging, both from feeling it happening and from Steve’s eyes, hardly ever leaving them. It was fun dancing with Steve and the next two guys as well. But, with the room full of people, and all the activity, the temperature had risen a few degrees, and with three fast dances, I was sure I was beginning to glisten. When I felt a drop of perspiration trace a path between my breasts, I was sure of it.
When I sat down after the third dance, Kirk was five feet away, a smile on his face that caused me to tremble.
“Caitlyn, you look delicious, lady. My gosh, how did I miss you those four years of high school?
I wanted to answer that he was way too busy chasing and banging other girls to notice me…but I didn’t because, despite my willing it not to happen, my mind was recreating every fantasy I’d ever had involving Kirk Fischer, even to the point of feeling the vibrations of Laura’s toy. My nipples were hard as a rock, and I was sure they were longer than they’d ever been.
"Thanks, Kirk. It has been five years.” I hoped my voice wasn’t trembling.
“Five years too long, gorgeous.” He turned his head. “Slow song just starting. Come dance with me.” He stood and grabbed my hand, giving me little choice but to follow him to the dance floor.
On the dance floor, I had my hands in the usual position, waiting for Kirk, when both his arms went around me, pulling me against him, his hands on my bare back, fingers under the edge of my dress. With no other choice, I folded both arms around his neck and moved in time with the music. There wasn’t much dancing, just moving back and forth, Kirk pressing his body against mine. And, the way he was doing it, there wasn’t much doubt that he was “enjoying” what was happening.
“Caitlyn, you’ve gotten to be a real beauty in these five years…and your back is so soft and smooth.” As he said that, his hands slid up and down my back…mostly down, as I was sure he was close to touching the string of my thong. “I’m so glad we both decided to come to this reunion, or I might have missed this,” he whispered in my ear, his lips making contact with me several times as we swayed to the music.
I couldn’t believe how hard my heart was pounding. This was Kirk Fischer I was dancing with, and he was taking every chance he could to slide his hand under my dress, closer and closer to my butt. Plus, his erection was sliding back and forth across my belly, telling me that…that he wanted me. All those fantasies I had created using him, now he was creating one using me. Only this time, we were together, and the fantasy could very easily become a reality. I bit my lower lip–hard.
The music stopped, and I reluctantly unwrapped my arms from around his neck. He was slower to move his arms, giving my back another rub with each hand, then finally stepping back and looking at me.
“You can’t imagine how hard it was for me to let loose of you, Caitlyn. Your skin is so warm and smooth and just very enticing, you know?”
“Thanks, Kirk,” I said, working to recover my breathing and heart rate. “That’s nice to hear from you.” Wow, I was amazed to hear myself say those words. That I was “enticing” to Kirk Fischer was something I’d only dreamed of and imagined. But, he had just said it, and right to me.
As I turned to head back to my table, he grabbed my hand and began pulling me in the other direction.
“Where are we going?”
“First, by the bar. What are you drinking?”
“My last ticket is back at the table.” I gestured in that direction.
“I didn’t ask about tickets,” he replied with a big smile. “After the enjoyment you provided me that last dance, I think I can spring for a drink for you?” He raised his eyebrows in a question.
“Chardonnay, then,” I answered, wondering if his enjoyment had come from rubbing his hard-on against my belly. I was sure that was part of it.
“Don’t you move,” he instructed, giving my hand a squeeze before he headed to the bar.
I glanced down and could see the exposed part of my chest and breasts shining in the glow of the lights. I’d heard that could be sexy for a man, and I wondered if it was for Kirk. It didn’t take long to find out.
He was back in just a moment with my wine and a mixed drink of some kind that I didn’t recognize. As he handed me the glass, his eyes moved from one breast to the other and then to my face.
“Caitlyn, you are one very hot lady, do you realize that?”
“It’s always nice to hear,” I answered, and I was sure my chest was rising and falling with each breath.
Kirk grabbed my free hand, and I followed his lead as we moved toward one of the room’s side doors. We were in a long hallway, and we walked until we came to another hallway. This one was nearly dark, lit only by the dim overflow from the first hallway. When we turned another corner, we were in almost total darkness.
“Drink your wine, and we can get to know each other a little better,” he said, squeezing my hand one more time. He downed nearly half the contents of his glass with one swallow. “Whoa,” he said, “that was good.”
Not wanting to be left behind, I took a much larger than usual swallow of my wine. I think my buzz nearly doubled when I did that.
“I thought you delicate ladies just sipped their wine,” he said, chuckling.
“Delicate ladies probably do,” I said, noticing my words were a little slurred.
Kirk finished his drink, then took my glass and set both on a little shelf I hadn’t noticed. My eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark, and there was enough light leaking around the corner of the hallway that I could see the expression on his face. It was one I hadn’t seen on Kirk before, but I was sure other females had.
“Cait. Is it okay if I call you Cait?”
“Sure.”
“Those luscious lips of yours. I’ve wanted to kiss them since we started dancing.”
When I didn’t reply, he moved forward, and our lips met. He moved his lips against mine and pulled away, but not before caressing my lips with his tongue, which brought the slightest moan from deep within me. I was definitely breathing hard.
“Sometime else I’ve wanted to do,” he said, taking hold of my dress’s two straps and sliding them slowly off my shoulders and down my arms, baring my breasts. Despite my slightly inebriated state, my eyes were wide as I watched Kirk staring at my bare breasts.
“Beautiful,” was all he said.
I watched his hands move and felt my nipples being squeezed gently by thumb and forefinger, then pulled softly. This was Kirk Fischer fondling my nipples, just as he had in my fantasies. I knew that, within seconds, one and then the other would be in his mouth. It had happened before, and I knew it would happen now. It did, and I could feel the wetness gathering between my legs.
That wasn’t all I was feeling as the slit in my skirt was giving Kirk access to another part of my body. His hand was on the inside of my thigh…and moving.
“So soft and smooth, Cait, softer than your back.”
This had happened before, too, as well as one more thing that always allowed Laura’s vibrator to complete my orgasm. My muddled mind wondered if that would happen today as well. I felt his finger touch the wet, puffy flesh that had swallowed the tiny string of my thong. I could barely breathe.
“Cait, you are so amazing. I don’t know how I missed you in the past, but I’m so glad to be getting a chance now.” As he said that, his finger was doing its best to separate me and probe inside.
But what he had just said was beginning to register in my alcohol-saturated brain. Kirk was just “getting a chance” to separate me from the virginity I’d clung to for twenty-three years. That was all it was. A chance that he had missed out on before…because he had no interest in it then, and only had an interest now because of my sweaty and partially bare tits and my rubbing his hard-on while we danced. Before, it had been fantasy, but this was reality, and, as his finger slid inside me, I realized that being a notch on Kirk’s gun wasn’t the reality I wanted.
“I’m sorry, Kirk, I blurted out, twisting as his finger brushed my clitoris, "but I have to pee really bad. I took a step backward which dislodged his finger and turned quickly to leave. "Don’t go away,” I said over my shoulder, and I was around the corner before I remembered the top of my dress was at my waist. I pulled the straps up and headed, not to the restroom but to the main hall, hoping against hope.
I scanned the room, my heart still pounding, my breathing ragged and uneven. At last, I crossed between tables, stopping behind Mason.
“Will you dance with me,” I whispered in his ear. His head turned in surprise.
“Sure will,” he said as he jumped up and followed me onto the floor.
Once there, I turned and threw both arms around his neck and smiled at the surprised look on his face. Not sure what to do, he finally put his arms around my waist, and I could tell he was hesitant to put his hands on my bare skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You sound out of breath.”
I chuckled internally. If only he knew.
“I’m great, Mason…now.”
He tilted his head back and looked at me. “Now?” he questioned.
It was everything, the wine, the bare breasts, nipples, the finger inside me, and my running away and finding Mason. I kissed him, quickly but sincerely. It was just moments until I was aware of his “enjoyment” rubbing against my belly.
The kiss seemed to have its effect, though. I felt his hands tentatively caressing my bare back. Over Mason’s shoulder, I saw Kirk come into the room and look around until he spotted me. His expression never changed. Finally, he turned and sat down between two ladies who were quickly all smiles. Kirk was back to work. I was sure it wouldn’t be long before another belly was rubbing against his erection.
“Caitlyn, you…I mean, I; you can’t imagine how many times I looked at you and wanted that to happen. And now it just did, and I still don’t know what to do.”
- to be continued.
By PickFiction for Literotica
