First-Class Reunion Ch. 01

The petite, fair-skinned young woman, bright-eyed and raven-haired, hesitated a moment, choosing her words carefully. She was just back from the gym, and wore a pair of close-fitting sweats and sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, leaning against the couch in a recuperative slump with her hair messily tied up in a small pony tail. Distractedly flipping through the pages of a magazine, she glanced up at her husband seated on the end of the sofa. The television was on and Alan's attention was divided as usual.

They were a young couple. Tabitha, recently turned twenty-two, maintained the lean, supple body of the teenaged dancer she had been. She danced and cheered throughout high school and kept it up through college until her graduation a few months back. Though outwardly modest, she was every bit as proud of her figure as her husband was. She knew she had the lithe, toned body older women envied and men of every age desired to possess. One could tell by the way she carried herself, especially around groups of men. She held her own, flashing that winsome smile and capturing them one at a time with her clear blue eyes.

The couple had met and begun to date seriously during Tabitha's second semester at the university, marrying shortly thereafter. Alan was a decent-looking man of thirty-four, a native of the sleepy college town where Tabitha had come to study, and had been out of school since before they had met. Though she had only just earned her degree, she was already behind in the hunt for a job. Having no immediate prospects elsewhere, she had consented to Alan's suggestion that they settle down just outside of town where they now shared an apartment.

"Well?" said Alan. "How did it go, Tabby?"

"It was fun...interesting," she delicately answered.

The subject of conversation, and of Tabitha's unease, was her four-year high school reunion. She had returned from her weekend trip home only the night before.

"Did you see Molly and Kim?" Alan asked, referring to Tabitha's closest friends who now lived and worked several hours away in Baltimore, Maryland.

"Yeah, it was so good finally catching up with them. We relived some wild times once the drinks started to flow."

"That's great," he said, pausing for emphasis, "I just hope you three didn't reenact too many of them."

"Don't worry, babe. It was innocent fun. I guess we've grown out of the crazy stuff by now," Tabitha sighed.

She was lingering on what to say next when her husband interrupted. "Sounds like a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I'm glad I ended up going."

"But what was so 'interesting' about it?"

"Oh," Tabitha thought a moment, "just some people who showed up that I didn't expect to see."

Alan glanced from the television screen to his wife and smiled. "Anyone I should be jealous of?"

She looked up for a moment, then back at the magazine she was fumbling with. "That's silly, babe," she lied. "Mostly it was just this guy I almost forgot about."

"Have you told me about him before?"

"I don't think so." She paused, presumably distracted by the magazine.

"Well? Does this blast from your past have a name?" Alan seemed to have forgotten the television for the moment.

Tabitha cocked her eye at him, came out with it. "He's Wayne's older brother."

"Wayne...you mean that jock you used to date in high school?" Alan felt a momentary tremor of jealousy. "Was he there, too?"

"No, Wayne didn't show. That's why it was so strange when Sean arrived. He was already entering law school when Wayne and I started dating. God, that was like six years ago."

"Law school? Sounds like he was on the ball."

"Yeah," Tabitha continued, her nervousness showing despite herself. "He showed up to the reunion in a brand new Porsche, dressed to kill. He was really showing off."

"But my little Tabby isn't impressed by that sort of dick measuring, is she?" Alan teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Well..." she said slowly, catching her husband's eye flirtatiously, "I didn't have the chance to measure it myself..."

"Was that for lack of trying?"

Tabitha, relieved by her husband's apparent lack of insecurity, rose with a smile and placed the magazine on the table next to the couch. In a flash she grabbed for the remote control in Alan's hand and wrestled it away, turning off the television just in time as he dragged the giggling girl onto his lap, bending her thrashing body over his knees and working his fingers under the cotton waistband of her lightweight yoga pants.

"No!!" she yelled as he swiftly yanked them down to expose her thong and taut, jiggling buns. With a swift, open-handed smack across those cream-colored cheeks, Tabitha's giggling slowed down to a low growl.

"'No'?" her husband joked, parroting her and rubbing the freshly smacked, burning spot. "So you did try, then."

"If I had wanted to measure him up," she returned matter-of-factly, leaning on one elbow and turning to look squarely at Alan, "I wouldn't have had much trouble while I was dating his brother."

Alan's eyes widened. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Mmm," Tabitha considered, "let's forget it, okay?"

But Alan wasn't letting her get away with it. "Uh-uh," he said. "You can't drop the subject just like that, not after that kind of hint. I knew that you and Wayne were pretty serious for awhile, but I didn't even know he had a brother. Now it sounds like you had a thing with him..."

Alan couldn't help visualizing what that implied. His jealousy began to shade towards something else.

Staring into space, he continued, "This guy Sean was what, in his late-twenties? You were only a high school student?" His expression darkened a little. "Spill it, Tabby."

She climbed off his lap and straddled him, brought her face an inch or two from his. She studied him thoughtfully. Her watchful eyes clouded over as Alan's hand went automatically to her hips. He gave a little squeeze, holding his wife firmly in place, wondering at the sudden change in her behavior. She wasn't usually this secretive about anything. She hadn't even said what was on her mind yet but here she was squirming on his lap. What had her so hot and bothered all of a sudden? What was she hiding?

Alan was already astir, swelling beneath her with rapidly growing curiosity.

"We didn't have 'a thing.' Not like what you have in mind, anyway." She blushed a little. "Please, let's just forget I said anything!"

"Not a chance."

"Alan, I don't want you getting jealous. There's no reason—"

"Out with it," he commanded.

Embarrassment was written all over her pretty face. Her cheeks burned and she knew her husband wouldn't let up until she revealed why. Finally she relented.

"You know that Wayne was my first. The first guy I had sex with. We used to make out in his basement late at night. We got a little carried away sometimes, but we thought it was okay since nobody could hear us down there..."

Alan remembered hearing something about this before. "So?"

"Well, that's what we thought. One night after we had gone at it for a long time, it seemed like hours, Wayne and I just dozed off without cleaning up or getting dressed. I don't think I was out for long, but when I woke up, I saw Sean. He was sitting right across from us on the other couch, just smiling at me."

"Jesus." Alan paused to process it. "Did that creep you out?"

"Well," Tabitha began, her face flushing afresh. "Kind of." She paused nervously. "But I always thought Sean was really hot. He was older than any of my friends, he was about to graduate from college by then, he was like a bigger, better, more experienced version of Wayne."

"So..."

"So, it...kind of turned me on. I tried not to wake up Wayne. Sean and I just stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Me lying naked in his brother's arms while he sat there, looking kind of pleased."

"What was he doing?" Alan cautiously asked.

"He said 'hi.' It was like he knew something I didn't! So I said 'hi' back, feeling a little silly and really self-conscious. He just watched me, smiling."

"Well, what happened?" Alan was trying to conceal his own growing excitement. He couldn't help picturing the scene. Why do I like the idea of a strange man lecherously intruding into my wife's teenage sex life? he wondered uneasily. Shouldn't I be pissed off or something?

"He left," Tabitha answered. "Just got up and walked out and I went back to sleep."

"Just like that?"

"Well," she cautiously added, smiling a little, "after I made sure he was gone I went to pee...aaannd to do something else in the privacy of the bathroom."

"That's my girl. Did you ever tell Wayne about what happened?"

"I never told anyone until now."

"Jesus, baby," Alan admitted, "that's quite a story. I don't know whether to hate this guy or envy him."

"Hey," she interrupted. Her hand went between her husband's legs and seized the massive bulge he had been hiding. He was rock hard. "What's this?!" He responded with a sheepish grin.

"Hmm, this feels like it hurts."

"Not when you rub it like that," he tersely answered, shifting impatiently.

"So I take it you're not angry?"

"Of course not. A little jealous, maybe..."

"But it turns you on?"

"Can't you tell? Here, let me show you."

Alan's lips found Tabitha's mouth, his hands sliding up under her baby gray tee for her pert smallish breasts. "I see I'm not the only one," he whispered between breaths, pulling her shirt up and off, finding her nipples were as stiff as his cock.

Tabitha's puffy, dark pink areolas were among her most distinguishing features. They were unusually large in relation to the girl's modest bust and contrasted sharply with the snowy, pale radiance of her beautiful skin. In addition to being extremely sensitive, the flexible little buds combined with her gorgeous figure to make a striking visual impression. In fact, Alan was not above begging his wife to walk around the house topless just so that he could gloat over them.

In a moment, he had Tabitha's shirt up over her head, her breasts exposed to his insatiable groping. As her soft flesh warmed in the palms of his hands, the urge to maul her little orbs became irresistible, keeping pace with his already straining erection.

Tabitha responded at once to the work of his fingers, whimpering urgently, her shuddering breath punctuating the sting left by each pinch and pull. The lovers' tongues danced as they drew each other close, grinding and breathing heavily.

Alan stripped Tabitha down to her skimpy thong in short order. Her young body was soft and warm, still dewy and gleaming from her workout. The strong, feminine musk she worked up at the gym always drove her husband wild; often it brought out her own friskiness and triggered a romp like this one.

But this time something was different. It had to do with the rather unusual nature of their conversation.

Tabitha sensed it, feeling her panties soak through long before her lover had begun touching her there. Her own words, and the old, familiar fantasies they had stirred up, had been enough to make her wet herself with anticipation. She was curious about Alan's reaction and what it suggested about her ordinarily reserved husband. But for now, she wanted him – his fingers, his tongue, his penis – to take possession of her from bottom to top.

Taking Alan by the hand, leaving her gym clothes in a pile on the floor, she pulled him to his feet and led the way upstairs. She slowly padded up the stairs to their bedroom, offering her husband an eyeful of the tiny thong buried in her firm, shapely ass as it swayed tightly from left to right.

The horny couple wasted no time. In a matter of seconds, Alan was naked and pinning Tabitha to the mattress by her wrists, ravishing her tender chest and neck. His straining erection bobbed gently over her smooth belly, the wet tip leaving a trail of pre-cum where it glanced against her soft skin. Tabitha squirmed impatiently under his weight, lifting her hips to bring them in line. She wanted that stiff tool inside her.

"You like hearing about your wife being a little sexpot, caught getting fucked in some boy's basement when she's still in high school," she whispered provocatively into her lover's ear.

"Fuck, yes!" Alan cried out, pushing the thick head of his cock past the bald, slippery folds of the tiny pussy he wanted so badly, burying himself halfway. It was like a little fist gripping the ridge of his shaft in there, squeezing the length of him while he glided back and forth. He couldn't help moaning at the tingling tightness in his fragile balls, his sperm gathering expectantly.

As he worked his way to a slow, steady rhythm, whimpering at the end of each stroke, Tabitha spurred him on with whispered, long-hidden details about those early sessions with Wayne.

"I bet you wish you'd been there, huh?" Tabitha continued, urging her husband on, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, her sweaty body writhing beneath his.

"Y-yes..." Alan groaned.

"To see how much punishment my little teenage pussy could take before I had to beg Wayne to stop..."

"Oh...god!" Alan cried out, picturing it all, his painful erection sawing in and out of his tiny captive wife pinned beneath him, helpless but very much in control.

"My poor muffin couldn't handle all of his cum, there was just too much of it..."

Alan's breathing was choppy, his thrusts wild, increasingly violent.

"God, you l-little slut..."

"Ahh!" she squealed, resisting a little as Alan pumped ever harder. "And," she began again, pulling him close again, "I wasn't on birth control yet."

"I bet I never told you that, huh?"

She could sense that her husband wasn't going to last much longer at this rate.

"I pleaded with Wayne to cum somewhere else, anywhere he wanted, just not in my pussy..."

Alan roared, determined to hold off.

"But he wouldn't listen! He told me he was going to teach me a lesson, knock me up like the careless little slut I was..."

Alan's body was shaking with the effort of holding it all back. He tried not to listen as she went on, but he knew he couldn't help it. Something had changed inside him. He was entirely at Tabitha's mercy, intoxicated by her fresh candor. It wouldn't be long before the pleasures of her slit and the persuasions of her silver tongue brought him off deep inside her – or wherever she beseeched him to relieve his creamy burden. Breathless, he was already whispering his intention to soak her womb, but Tabitha, spurred deliriously on by the circumstances, wasn't to settle for that. She would make Alan shower her face with his sultry love.

Their marriage was better than the average couple's, but after nearly four years together things had settled into a pattern and sex was no exception. Tabitha, whose sexuality had always been heightened and precocious, had sadly resigned herself to the dullness of what had become their routine. Her own latent naughtiness, the unspoken kinks she had only begun to explore before marriage, had seemingly evaporated.

But things were changing fast. Alan's obvious arousal upon hearing some of Tabitha's dirty secrets came as a pleasant surprise. She decided to welcome the implications.

As her husband roared out of her with a cry, rose above her clutching his gushing member, directing its sticky, flushed tip over her blushing face, the melting sensation between Tabitha's thighs told her everything she needed to know about how she must proceed.

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The couple lay perspiring in each other's arms, recovering from the desperate sex brought on by the story of the two brothers from Tabitha's past. That part of her life now stood half-revealed, and the door once opened could not easily be shut. Both were lost in thought.

Alan slowly processed what he had just learned of his wife's youthful experimentation. He had always suspected Tabby of being a little wilder than she liked to let on. She had given as much away when, once during an episode of especially heated foreplay early in their relationship, she had revealed how promiscuously she liked to masturbate in her youth. She confessed to having climaxed in every room of her family's home, including the bedroom used by her adoptive brother, Marcus.

Marcus was the only black member of Tabitha's otherwise typical, white suburban family. When Tabby had come to the part involving Marcus, Alan interrupted her, cruelly stilling his hand where it nestled intimately between her legs.

"You used your brother's room?" he had asked a little incredulously.

She blushed and nodded, trying to get his fingers back inside her.

"Where was he when this was going on?"

"I don't know, I think he was out with his friends or something," Tabitha had replied a little cautiously.

Naturally, Alan wanted to know more. He persisted until his wife came clean and was shocked when she revealed that she had entered her brother's room nude and laid on his bed pleasuring herself for the better part of an hour.

What had she been thinking about, lying there on her brother's bed with her hands exploring her naked body? When Tabitha hesitated to respond, Alan had ventured some answers on her behalf.

"Did you think about getting caught, maybe? About what Marcus might think to find his little sister writhing naked on his bed? What might happen then?"

"You wish," Tabitha had said sarcastically, but her body responded clearly enough to confirm Alan's speculations.

"I'll bet," he continued, "that you liked the idea of being caught with your hand between your legs—in the proverbial cookie jar."

Tabby's breaths came closer and shorter.

"Of having him make you finish while he watched."

"You fucking pervert," she gasped, her eyes fluttering.

"Maybe even of having him fuck what was left of you after you got yourself off in front of him. I wouldn't blame him. How could he resist a pretty little pussy, all wet and ready just for him?"

By then his young wife had taken over, urgently rubbing her throbbing slit while he watched, adding detail after detail. The strong, sweet smell of her sex filled the air, another confirmation of the accuracy of the picture he was forming.

"Do you still think about that, Tabby?" She had looked back a little desperately, ashamed, her lips flushed and flown open, her eyes glazed over with arousal. Alan chuckled. "You're thinking about it right now, I see..."

So the naughty details of Tabitha's recent story about the brothers from her youth aren't so exceptional after all, he thought, his naked body still cooling in the post-coital air.

Nevertheless, Alan would never have guessed that his future wife had fooled around with more than one guy at a time. What he couldn't deny was that seeing Tabby in this new light enticed him. Her story filled his mind with shamefully exciting images that would be nasty enough as mere fantasies. But it was no mere fantasy. It had happened. He couldn't help wondering, would she allow it to happen again...?

Tabitha rested her head on Alan's chest, idly running her fingers along the trail of fuzz on his lower abdomen. She stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, lost in her own reverie. If what she had already told him had him so excited, what would he say about...?

The young woman fidgeted nervously, glancing up at her husband. She was self-conscious about the smile playing at the corners of her pretty mouth, but determined to test the waters.

"So I take it you're glad I brought up Sean and Wayne?" she began.

"Do I have to fuck you again to reassure you?"

"Maybe," she coyly replied. "And maybe, in that case....you'll want to hear the rest."

His eyes flew open. "The rest?! You're telling me that it didn't end there?"

"Well, that was all that happened that night."

"But it happened again?"