Message-ID: <29683asstr$986242204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <200104021714.KAA06856@mail1.bigmailbox.com> Content-Type: text/plain Content-Disposition: inline Content-Transfer-Encoding: binary Mime-Version: 1.0 From: "Deja User" Subject: {ASSM} "Reunion" {Dancer} (MF cons oral safe?) Date: Mon, 2 Apr 2001 16:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, kelly Copyright Notice: This work of prose is protected by the Berne Convention and unauthorized duplication without expressed persmission is prohibited. For this purpose, the following persmissions have been granted: singluar copies for private persual, single copies archived for NON-commercial distribution. (But it would be nice to hear that you think this story's good enough for your web site/ftp/whatver, so please drop us a line, anyway.:) ============= Blah, blah, blah, 18, blah, blah, blah, don't read any further, blah, blah. 'Open Arms' by Johnathan Cain and Steve Perry. Reunion Dancer 2001 I made the mistake of going to my 15th high school reunion. Why, I don't know. Maybe I forgot to take my medication. Maybe I wanted to torture myself over old memories. Maybe, just maybe, I wanted everyone who treated me like shit to realize *I* was the most successful, the richest, the most famous graduate of my tiny high school. I stood off to one side of the gymnasium. It was decorated like a school dance with streamers everywhere. I wasn't wearing the 'Hello my name is' sticker. I hadn't changed much since graduation and I wanted the people here to figure out who I was. The first person to approach me was Chad Elway, football-baseball-wrestling star. "Hey, you're Nancy Swanson. I remember you had a crush on me all through school." My eyes looked through him, like he wasn't there. It made people nervous and forget what they were saying. Chad frowned at me, perturbed at my not speaking to him. He walked away, shaking his head and muttering about what a bitch I was. I leaned against the wall with one knee cocked out and the sole of my foot resting along the yellowed bricks. Another guy came over to where I was, carrying a plastic punch-filled cup in one hand. "Hey, Nance, how's it hanging?" "Hey yourself, Rob," I said. Rob Carlton was the editor of the school paper and golf jock for four years. He drank his punch, standing beside me. "I read your books. They're good." "T-N-T-K," I replied. "What?" "T-N-T-K. Short for 'that's nice to know'." "Sounds like the call letters for a radio station." "Only when spelled backwards and west of the Mississippi." I turned toward him slightly. "Don't you have someone else to pester?" "I like pestering you," Rob told me with a quick smile. I punched a fist into his biceps, good-naturedly, but it felt really nice to hit him. I did it again and again. Rob wasn't fazed one bit. He retaliated with slaps until I cried uncle. I glanced into his face, wondering if he knew I hit him because I liked him...a lot. "Nance, how come you beat me up in school?" My face grew hot and flushed. Apparently Rob didn't have a clue how I felt about him, then and now. I shrugged my shoulders and let my gaze fall to the floor. "Cause I liked you." "You had a funny way of showing it." "What do you want? You were going with Jen. I couldn't exactly come out and say, 'Rob, I really think you're hot and I wanna go out with you'." "What about prom?" "What about it?" I planted my hands on my hips. Rob leaned down, his mouth hovering over mine. "I danced with you whenever a Journey song was played, remember?" "I was too busy enjoying being in your arms." My hand flew to my mouth when I realized what spilled out. I ran from Rob and out of the gym. My feet echoed through the hallways as I raced toward the front doors. My hands touched the handle of the door but I didn't open it. Instead, I walked back until I hit a row of lockers and I slid down to the floor. I curled my arms around my bent knees and rested my forehead against them. The tears didn't come, like I expected them to. I mentally kicked myself for running away and not knowing what Rob was thinking about what I told him. I heard somebody coming and I looked up. It was Rob. He stood in front of me, holding his hands out. His voice was shaky as he sang softly, "'I come to you, with open arms...'" I placed my hands in his and stood up. He pulled me close and draped my arms around his neck, then settled his own along my waist. I lifted my mouth and brushed a gentle kiss against his full lips. His grip tightened at the touch. He shoved me hard upon the lockers and swooped down to capture my lips. We erupted, frantically groping and fondling each other in the hallway, not caring about anything except ourselves. I unzipped his fly and stroked his cock erect. His hand touched my pussy and he whispered, "No panties?" "I'm glad I wore a skirt," I moaned as he teased the seam of my cunt lips. "God, you're wet." Rob hoisted my ass up and brought me over his cock, sheathing the satiny hardness with my heat. I clung to his body and hung on for dear life as he thrust deep inside me. "You're so big, Rob," I gasped between thrusts. He grunted a reply. It hadn't felt this great with any of my other boyfriends. Maybe it was the location, getting it on in the main hall where anybody could see us. Rob was moving in and out quickly and my little cries of delight were getting louder and louder. I bit hard on his shoulder, sinking my teeth through the fabric of his jacket and shirt. Rob nuzzled into my neck and bit me hard. A closet masochist, I must be, because my body shuddered and I came immediately. I whimpered into his shoulder, my fingers clawing at his blonde hair. With one last stroke, Rob shot his cum into my pussy, panting hard. His kissed the darkening bruise he caused. "Did you...?" he gasped. I nodded quickly. "Uh-huh." He drew his head back and gazed into my face. His blue eyes were dark from passion and I knew mine were a deep jade color. "Sorry about your neck." He ran the tip of one finger over the hickey. I smiled shyly. "It's okay." "I shouldn't have been so hasty," Rob told me. "I didn't use any protection." "Then it won't matter if we did it again." I watched him chuckle and felt the cock in me twitch. I rubbed a foot over his khaki covered ass. "We'll find somewhere else this time." He eased out and helped me get on my feet. He stuffed his cock back into his trousers, then grabbed my hand. We hurried down the hall, looking for an unlocked classroom. We found one and went inside, locking the door behind us. I unbuttoned my blouse and undid the front clasp of my bra. Rob removed his jacket and shirt, then swept everything off the teacher's desk. I sat on the wooden surface with my skirt bunched up underneath my hips. Rob stood between my parted thighs and dropped trou. I saw he was average length and semi-erect. I carefully stroked his cock and he reached up to play with my tits. He tweaked both nipples and I moaned. I guided his cockhead to my slick hole and wetted it with my cum. He plunged in to his balls and buried his face in my cleavage. His mouth suckled the sensitive peaks, laving his tongue in circles. "Rob, yesss," I sighed. My knees came up involuntarily, granting him access to my pussy. He stroked slowly at first, then speeded up when he couldn't hold back any longer. The fantasies I entertained about Rob seducing me in journalism class were coming true. I ran my palms over his hairless chest, urging him to fuck me harder. He complied, pumping into me ruthlessly until he spilled his seed. I stared at his scrunched up face as he came. Rob collapsed on top of me, our bodies damp with sweat. I wrapped my arms around him and committed this moment to memory. "I'm spayed," I blurted out. He raised his head and looked at me. "What?" "I'm fixed. I had my tubes tied a long time ago." I toyed with a lock of his hair. "And I'm clean. I don't have any sexual diseases." "Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me." Rob snuggled his arms under my back and planted a kiss between my breasts. "You know, if you bothered to come to the other reunions, we could've done this years ago." "I wasn't ready to see everybody then." "Scared?" "Uh-huh." I moved my fingers to his collarbone, touching the skin there. "I was a nobody in high school and I promised myself I wouldn't come back until I was rich and famous." "I never thought you were a nobody," he whispered before brushing a kiss over my mouth. "I thought you were smart and funny and pretty. If I could have broken it off with Jen..." He didn't bother to finish. We both knew what he was going to say. "I think of you whenever I hear 'Open Arms' by Journey." "Well, 'Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'' reminded me of you." "And Jen." "Yeah, and Jen." I was silent for a while before asking, "What happened to Jen after the prom, anyway?" "She ran off with Dylan Harper." I shuddered. "Eew! Dylan the Dork?" "Jen always went after the biggest dick in school," Rob said with a grin. "So, the rumors were true. Dylan was hung like a horse." "I wouldn't know," he retorted, rubbing his nose against mine. "I never looked." Our laughter mingled together. "Do you want to go back to my place?" "Sure, why not?" He got off me and helped me to my feet. We dressed ourselves and left the room. I peeked back in through the glass window in the door. "I bet whoever's desk that is is going to wonder what the hell happened to his stuff." Rob drew me against him, my back to his front. "I think he'll understand." I half-turned and poked him in the stomach. "Whose is it? Tell me!" "Mine," he said just before he kissed me. End ============= Editor's Postscript: Awwwwww; makes me wish I'd taken journalism in college. Now I gotta go through Dancer's yearbook and kill the editors of the school paper. ;) Oh, and as always, comments on Dancer's stories can be sent to me at Praise will be gleefully forwarded to her, while groundless criticism and flames will be chewed up, swallowed and thence ignored. :) ------------------------------------------------------------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+