The world seemed in never-ending turmoil as the decade of the 60's drew close. Vietnam was an ongoing war, and the peace movement was in full swing. Woodstock was fresh in everyone's memory, providing our generation with the hope that as we graduated high school, we could affect change in a world of unchanging politicians and nineteenth-century morals our parents had grown up adhering to and tried to force on our generation.

After receiving the diplomas, we'd worked twelve long years for, promises to stay in touch and never forget our time together abound. Each of us knew there would be promises un-kept as we headed off, some to secondary schools, others to the steamy jungles of Southeast Asia, and a few to the great white north of Canada to avoid being drafted.

Before leaving commencement, I made it a point to find Samantha, the one person I wanted to keep in contact with. We had been close friends all through high school. I'd rescued her more than once on those occasions when she'd had too much to drink or needed to be told that her current boyfriend wasn't using her, even though I always felt they had. We never had intimate moments, not that I wouldn't have welcomed them with all my heart. I'd had a crush on Sam since I first met her in the seventh grade.

As I approached Sam, her wide smile warmed my youthful heart.

"Congratulations, Paul," She beamed, giving me a hug that allowed me to feel her soft body against mine.

Sam was thin; her breasts, while small, were very perky. She had caught me more than once as I'd stared at them when I happened to see her at the pool wearing a sexy string bikini. Her long, thin legs were often covered by denim, but when she wore a skirt, I told her how great she looked.

Holding her close to me, I whispered in her ear. "We made it."

Sam leaned back so she could look at me but kept her hips pressed against mine. "Thank you so much. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." Her sparkling eyes and broad smile speaking volumes to me. We both knew what she meant. During the summer between our junior and senior years, Sam had gotten pregnant as a result of a drunken weekend with one of my rivals for her attention.

I'd convinced her to have an abortion instead of moving to a distant city to give birth to an unwanted child while staying with her aunt. I'd told her at the time that she couldn't give up her dream of becoming a registered nurse and let herself be tied down to an unwanted baby. But I'd lied to Sam. My real reason was so she would still be in the same town and at the same school I was in. In my selfish way, I held hope that somehow, Sam and I would be together.

Weeks earlier, she'd told me that she had been accepted at a nursing school in a city beyond driving distance, and I knew that I only had a short time to make her realize how much I cared for her.

"When do you leave for school?" I asked.

"Day after tomorrow," Sam replied.

Somehow, I'd put the idea out of my mind that she was leaving. I knew she was going, but in my mind, I couldn't accept the fact.

"I wish we could spend the summer together," Sam remarked, her voice sounding sincere, but I knew if she had waited until the fall to start school, I'd have to endure another summer of her boyfriend taking most of her time.

"I'll write you, Paul." Sam offered as consolation, knowing I was more than disappointed that I'd only see her if she returned home for the holidays.

I kissed her softly on the lips and then said. "If you don't, I'll track you down."

We parted that night, knowing we may never see each other again. I would be off to college in the fall, and who knew what or where our lives would lead us after that?

I could have kicked myself in the ass for not overcoming my shyness and taking her aside years earlier to open up and tell her that I'd been in love with her for years.

Over the next thirty-nine years, Sam and I saw each other maybe three times. And every time, her smile warmed my heart as it had been the night we graduated from high school. We'd both married and started families. A mutual friend told me she followed her husband to some distant state, giving up her nursing career. But I kept her in my heart always. I often wondered if she thought of me.

I remained in the same town, enjoyed my work, and loved my wife and family, but I never spoke of my best friend, Samantha.

Several months ago, I received an envelope in the mail. It seemed strange that it was addressed with my full name since I hadn't used my middle name since high school. The return address gave me a clue. It read. "40th Reunion committee with an address nearby.

Opening the envelope, I read the contents. The Class of 1970 will be reunited on August 15, 2010; the letter details where and when my class reunion will occur.

I showed it to my wife Marsha, who immediately said. "We should go."

"I don't know. I haven't seen any of these people for almost forty years. It could be a rather boring night," I replied.

Marsha explained. "You all grew up in the '60s and went to high school together. Don't you think it would be fun to reminisce about your youth?"

"I suppose so, but I wasn't exactly the life of the party when I was in school," I added. "I doubt many of those attending would even remember me."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure some of your close friends will be there." Marsha encouraged.

She didn't know that the one person I hoped to see was Sam, and I doubted if she'd travel three-quarters of the country to attend a couple-hour reunion.

Marsha went on. "They're having it at a nice place, and I've heard the food there is wonderful, so even if the reunion is boring, you and I can get out for a night and enjoy a good meal and dancing."

That sounded pretty good, so I said. "Okay, hun, I'll send the reply and a check back to the committee."

Even if the reunion was a dud, I was sure Marsha would dress to the nines, and afterward, we'd enjoy a romantic night of lovemaking. I'd have that to look forward to, at least.

The next night, I filled out the form and wrote a check for a hundred twenty-five dollars, then put the envelope on the table by the door so I could mail it the next day.

As Marsha and I lay in bed together, she turned over and whispered in my ear. "Anyone special you hope to see at the reunion?"

I rolled toward her and slipped my arm around her. Pulling her close to me, I replied. "No one as special as you."

Marsha smiled and kissed me tenderly on the lips. We made love like we'd done thousands of times before. But this time, the thought of Sam was on my mind. She still had me after all these years. I still loved her so much.

Nearly six weeks passed before I received another envelope addressed by the reunion committee. This time, it confirmed our reservation and a list of people they were still trying to contact. As I read over the list, I found Sam's name; they hadn't been able to locate her, which disappointed me but didn't surprise me.

Marsha and I were having coffee one morning when she flipped the family appointment calendar hanging on the fridge from July to August. In bold red letters, she had written "Paul's Reunion" in the block for the fifteenth.

"I think I'll buy a sexy new dress to wear to the reunion," Marsha said.

I smiled at her and said. "You'd look sexy in a burlap sack."

Marsha leaned down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "To you, maybe, but what about all the other guys who'll be there?" She replied.

It was clear that Marsha was planning on showing everyone who attended what a beautiful and sexy wife I'd landed, and that fact made me smile. Marsha is a very passionate woman. Her lovely features run the gamut from sensuous dark eyes, full pouty, kissable lips, an incredible hourglass figure, and shapely legs. All topped off by her wavy auburn tresses. My wife is a gorgeous woman, and I'm always proud to have her on my arm. Oh yes, need I mention that her passionate personality is most assertive when we're making love and has kept me faithful for almost forty years?

As the fifteenth approached, I started feeling twangs of anticipation, not about getting together with my old classmates but with the hope that somehow the committee had tracked down Sam and that she'd be attending. I wondered how we'd approach each other, what we'd say, and how we'd feel after hearing each other's voices again. I knew that as a mature man who'd long since gotten over his shyness, I'd be able to finally express my true feelings for her and let the chips fall as they may. Friday, August 15th, turned out to be a hot, humid day like many summer days in the northeast. A south-westerly breeze did little more than pump more heat into the air. Al Roker had said on the early morning news show that records would fall across the mid-Atlantic states that day, and he wasn't far off. When I left the office that afternoon, it was still ninety-five degrees with humidity that made your shirt stick to your skin. It was the kind of afternoon that made you expect a thunderstorm later in the evening.

Walking into our bedroom, Marsha was already priming herself for the evening out. She sat at her makeup desk, skillfully applying the right amount of mascara to highlight her already dark, passionate eyes. Marsha had gathered her hair up in a tight bun and then curled at the ends that cascaded down toward her sexy neck.

"Wow, you're gonna look fantastic tonight," I remarked as I slipped out of my clothes to shower.

Marsha looked at me and smiled. "I want to be the sexiest woman there tonight."

Judging from her choice of lingerie, I had to agree. She wore a black lace bra with a deep plunging vee in front, black lace panties, and over those, a very sexy black lace garter. I assumed she was waiting for the last moment to slip her shapely legs into silk stockings so she wouldn't get a runner. At least until later when I got her home and back into our bedroom.

My showers usually take only a few minutes, but I wasted time to give my lovely wife time to finish getting dressed.

As I turned off the shower, Marsha said. "Let's get a move on. I don't want to be more than fashionably late."

I wrapped a towel around my waist and grabbed another to dry my hair as I walked back into our bedroom.

Marsha stood at the foot of our bed, waiting for me to return. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and I was sure my jaw dropped so far it nearly dislocated itself.

She looked incredible. The sexy new dress she'd bought for this special occasion hugged her body, its wrap-around design, leaving little to the imagination where it plunged, revealing soft, sexy cleavage. Just above the diamond pendant, I'd bought her for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary dangled from her sexy neck. The dress almost touched her knees, but below its flowing hem, her shapely legs were covered with dark gray silk stockings. She wore brand-new high heels designed to accentuate her great legs. She'd applied a light coat of red lip gloss, which contrasted quite nicely with all the black she wore.

"Maybe we should just stay here," I remarked, feeling my cock surge a little.

Marsha smiled and curtly replied. "No way." She looked fabulous, and she knew it. I was sure she was looking forward to the evening showing off to my classmates.

I quickly dried my hair and then slipped the towel off my waist. My semi-erect cock waving out from my loins. Marsha smiled and said. "You gonna save some of that for me."

I laughed and replied. "I'm gonna save it all for you, sexy."

Marsha walked to where I was standing and softly grasped my cock. "I can hardly wait to feel this buried deep inside me."

I again suggested, "Why wait." I knew we'd both have to wait because she looked forward to the evening more than I did.

She turned and walked toward the door. Her sexy hips swayed seductively from side to side as her high heels were carefully placed one in front of the other. As she walked through the door, she glanced over her shoulder to ensure she had my attention and then said. "Don't keep this hot bod waiting too long, baby, or I might head out by myself."

Unlike my shower, I wasted no time getting dressed. A navy blue suit, white shirt, and striped necktie. It is just the right outfit to complement Marsha's sexy dress.

I was still fidgeting with the Windsor knot at my neck as I walked down the stairs. "Here, let me help you with that," Marsha offered.

Her skillful fingers made short work of evening out the silk fabric, drawing my tie into a perfect knot. As she straightened out my tie, her wonderful perfume wafted up from her soft, sensuous cleavage, tickling my nostrils. I couldn't wait till later when I'd be able to bury my nose there and get the full effect of her sweet fragrance.

I slipped on my suit coat and grabbed my keys from the table beside the front door. "Ready?" I asked.

"You betcha," Marsha replied as she grabbed the small clutch handbag containing whatever women needed for an evening out with their man.

She slipped into the passenger seat, making sure I got an eyeful of sexy silk-covered legs, and I paused a moment to let the image of her shapely legs burn into my brain. The evening hadn't even started, and my passionate mate was already seducing me.

As I turned the key and buckled my seat belt, I glanced at Marsha. "You gonna buckle up?" I asked.

"What and wrinkle my new dress," she replied, then added. "You'll drive real careful, won't you."

"Sure," I replied.

The drive to the country club took maybe twenty minutes, and we arrived as Marsha had said fashionably late. I jumped out and walked around to open her door and offer my hand, which she accepted with a broad smile. The early evening air still held much of the sweltering heat from the record high of that afternoon, and off in the distance, the faint sound of thunder could be heard.

Stepping out of the car, Marsha smoothed her dress down over her shapely thighs and then asked. "How do I look?"

I took a step back, still holding her delicate hand, and replied. "You look better than any woman here."

She smiled and squeezed my hand, then began to say. "But you haven't seen..."

I interrupted her to reply. "It doesn't matter what they look like. You're still the hottest-looking woman here."

Marsha moved close to me and gave me a light kiss, then wrapped her arm around mine as I escorted her toward the large white double doors to the club's banquet hall. My chest swelled with pride having her on my arm, and I was damn glad she'd talked me into coming to this affair.

I pulled one heavy door open, and Marsha stepped inside, then stopped waiting for me to follow. Her delicate hand wrapped around my arm as we surveyed the crowd. Of those folks who took notice of our arrival, most began smiling. I assumed not because they'd recognized me but because of the incredible-looking woman on my arm.

Two familiar faces were seated at a long folding table just inside the entrance. They were the Peterson twins. While they shared the same birthday, they are not identical twins, and as I recall, their personalities were very different in high school. Amy was thinner than Jessica; her prim and proper attitude always landed her on the honor roll. Jessica, on the other hand, was the free spirit of the two, and her wardrobe of short miniskirts and tight-fitting tops usually landed her on her back. Jessica was the most popular of the twins. The years had been more friendly to Amy, who had developed into a lovely woman. Jessica looked a bit worn; her eyes creased at the corners with deep crow feet and perhaps an additional thirty pounds on her once very healthy frame.

"Paul?" Jessica said as Marsha and I approached the table.

"Hiya Jess," I replied. Her smile acknowledged that she was happy I'd remembered her name.

Amy thumbed through a stack of printed name tags and handed me one that carried my name. "You'll be at table fourteen, Paul," Amy said.

"This is my wife, Marsha," I said, introducing them. "Amy and Jessica Peterson," I added.

Marsha smiled and said hello to them both, then took my name badge and peeled it off the backer, pasting it just above my breast pocket.

"I'm glad I don't have to wear one of these," Marsha remarked.

"Take care, girls," I said to the twins, knowing I'd probably not be talking to them again that evening.

As we walked deeper into the crowd, more than a few faces seemed familiar, but names didn't come as quickly as looks, and I was happy about the name badges each classmate wore. Moving through the gathering, I kept my hand resting comfortably on Marsha's back, occasionally giving a gentle squeeze to let her know I'd be squeezing more later.

Marsha asked. "Can we get a drink?"

"Of course," I replied, directing her movement toward the bar.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

"JD and water for me and a gin and tonic for the lady," I said, knowing Marsha's favorite before-meal cocktail.

"Can I have two limes, please," Marsha asked.

The barkeep smiled and said. "Anything for such a lovely lady." His eyes roamed over Marsha's exposed cleavage while he mixed our drinks.

I lay a twenty on the bar as he worked. "It's an open bar until dinner," he remarked.

That explained the high cost of this affair, and I replaced the twenty with a five as a tip for his excellent service and for making my wife feel good about herself.

As Marsha and I moved about reintroducing myself to those classmates, I recognized I kept a keen eye peeled for any sign of Sam, and most of the men kept a keen eye directed to the sexy woman I accompanied.

"We having fun yet?" I whispered in Marsha's ear.

She smiled and gave me a quick kiss, then said, "I always have fun with you."

I was getting reacquainted with Rick Hillman, who was captain of our golf team when a woman wearing a name badge that read Lori Jackson and her nameless date approached.

"Marsha? Marsha Keener?" the man said.

I was a little taken aback by this stranger knowing my wife's maiden name, and my attention was immediately drawn to Lori and her date.

"I'm sorry," Marsha replied, clearly not recognizing him.

"Scott Keener," he said, extending his hand toward my wife.

"We went to high school together," Scott continued.

Marsha looked at him more carefully. I could tell her memory was being tested, but as her smile widened, I figured she was putting the name and face with a thirty-five-year-old memory.

"Oh, my god! Scotty," Marsha finally exclaimed.

Lori and I just stood there. I didn't remember her, and she clearly didn't remember me, but it was clear our mates had known each other since they attended high school five years after we'd graduated.

"Sorry, Scott, I remember you having hair down to here," Marsha said, placing her fingers on his shoulder.

I could understand Marsha not recognizing him since he now had male-pattern baldness.

"What a coincidence meeting you at a reunion for the class of seventy. I figured we wouldn't see each other until 2015 when our fortieth will be held," Scott said.

"I'm not looking forward to that reunion," Marsha offered.

Scott let his eyes roam down over Marsha's shapely tits, then said. "Why not? You're looking as hot as the day we graduated."

Lori piped in. "Scott, that's a bit forward considering you haven't seen her since nineteen seventy-five."

Lori was a pretty late-fifties woman. Her curly blond hair barely touched her shoulders. She had thin lips but accentuated their outline with a slightly darker lip liner shade than the gloss she applied first. Her tiny breasts appeared rather perky under the tight-fitting dress she wore.

I joined in the conversation. "Marsha and I met a year after she graduated while she was home for Christmas break from college."

"So you've been married for thirty-five years?" Lori asked.

"Thirty-six," Marsha offered. "Thirty-six wonderful years," my lovely wife added.

I put my hand on her back and gently squeezed it, letting her know I appreciated the compliment.

Lori extended her hand and said. Nice seeing you again." Her eyes drifted down to my name badge before she finished. "Paul."

Scotty didn't wait for Marsha to offer her hand. He just reached out and grabbed the delicate hand, then brought his other to hold Marsha's between his two big hands.

"I'll be looking forward to our reunion," he said. "Hope to see you there."

I turned my attention back to Rick, who stood there listening to our short conversation. Handing him my business card, I said. "Give me a call sometime. We'll get together for a round of golf."

"Will do," Rick replied as he slipped my card into his breast pocket and turned to mingle with other folks in attendance.

"What an ass hole," Marsha whispered in my ear.

"Why's that?" I asked.

She explained. "I dated him once in high school. He tried to get me drunk so he could take advantage of me and wound up getting plastered himself. As I recall, I left him sleeping in his car and hitched a ride home from the dance with a girlfriend."

I laughed, hearing her memory of a date from hell.

Marsha continued. "Now he comes up to me like we're long lost friends. When he shook my hand, he fingered my palm with his middle finger."

I thought it was a relatively smooth move. Scott told my wife that if she were so inclined, he'd be a willing partner in an affair. He probably wanted to make up for missing the chance to pound his stiff cock into her tight little pussy and jumped at a second shot.

So Marsha had run into a long-lost friend, and I scanned the room to see any sign of my long-lost love.

Marsha and I moved about for another five minutes or so, then I suggested. "Why don't we find our table and have a seat."

She agreed, and as we moved out of the mingling crowd toward the tables, I found her. Sam had made it to our reunion and sat at a table three or four from ours. She was talking to a woman who also wore a name badge, obviously engrossed in conversation with her.

As we reached table fourteen, I kept looking toward Sam, hoping she'd look my way.

"Here we are," I said, finding a folded card containing my name between two place settings on the table.

Lucky for me, our seats faced where Sam was sitting, and as I slid her chair in under Marsha, Sam looked in our direction.

Her face instantly lit up, a broad smile coming to her lips. It warmed my heart as always, but this time, along with the warmth her smile brought me, I could feel it pounding a little faster.

I smiled back at my longest friend as she rose from her chair and excused herself from the woman she was talking to.

In the few seconds it took her to walk toward us, my memories of her flashed through my mind. She looked incredible. Her shorter blond hair teased sexily around her lovely face. Her eyes still sparkled just as they had every time I stared into them. The years had been kind to Sam, her slim figure and perky breasts, as I remembered. She wore a lovely pink dress, which was probably shorter than any I'd seen her wear in school, and as I did back then, I seized the opportunity to check out her great legs.

"Paul!" Sam exclaimed as she neared, extending both arms.

"Hi, Sam," I replied as she gathered me in her arms and hugged me closely. Her soft body pressed against me as her hands curved over my shoulders.

Sam nuzzled her chin into my shoulder and said. "I'm so glad you've come."

Sam moved back, as I said. "It's wonderful to see you."

Then, remembering Marsha was there, I added. "Sam, I want you to meet my wife Marsha."

Marsha smiled and extended her delicate hand. "Marsha, this is Samantha. One of my dearest friends from school."

I kept my hand around Sam's waist as the only two women I've ever loved shook hands.

Just then, the public address speaker requested everyone to find their seats. Dinner would be served in five minutes.

"Paul, we must catch up after dinner," Sam said, smiling at me and further warming my heart. "And if it's okay with you, Marsha, I'd like just one dance with your husband?" She added.

Marsha smiled and replied. "He's all yours." Knowing that I'd be all hers later when we arrived home.

Sam smiled at us both, and as she turned to return to her table, she said. "See ya later."

I sat down beside my lovely wife but watched Sam as she made her way back to her seat. Her walk seemed to be a bit more seductive, and there appeared to be a little more bounce in her step.

"She's beautiful," Marsha commented, gaining my attention again.

I placed my hand on hers, and looking into her eyes, I replied. "I've known Sam since the seventh grade."

Marsha turned her hand over and squeezed mine. "I can see you are happy she's here," she suggested.

"I was looking forward to seeing her again after all these years," I answered.

As folks started moving into the tables, my view of Sam was obscured, so I kept my attention on my lovely wife.

"You've never mentioned her before," Marsha commented.

I smiled, knowing she felt a little challenged by Sam, and replied. "Nothing to mention. We haven't seen each other since graduation." I lied to her, not wanting to admit that Sam and I had seen each other a few times since then.

After thirty-six years of marriage, Marsha has become pretty good at reading me. She has an astute talent for knowing when I'm not being sincere.

"You had a thing for her, didn't you, Paul?" Marsha asked.

"Ancient history, babe," I instantly replied, bringing a smile to her lips.

I slipped my hand below the tablecloth and softly squeezed her sexy thigh. "The only woman I have a thing for is sitting beside me," I whispered in her ear.

Marsha turned and lightly kissed me on the mouth, letting her lips part slightly and extending the tip of her tongue.

Our gentle kiss was interrupted by Rick Hillman and his wife Jennifer as they found their name tag next to ours.

"Looks like we're together, Paul," Rick said as I turned my lips away from Marsha's mouth. Rick sat one seat away from Marsha, and his wife Janet took the seat between.

"Can I get anyone a drink before dinner is served?" I asked.

"We're good," Rick replied.

"Can I have another gin and tonic with a double twist, hun," Marsha said.

"Got it," I replied as I slid my chair back and stood up. "Be back in a flash," I added.

Before I turned toward the bar, I noticed Sam was looking at me. As always, her smile warmed my heart.

The bartender was busy serving up the last of the quote-unquote free drinks, and as I waited for my turn, a familiar voice behind me said. "You're the one person I was hoping to see tonight."

I turned and was greeted by Sam's brilliant smile and sparkling eyes. "Same here, Sam," I replied, feeling my heart pounding and glowing from her heartwarming smile.

"Paul, I thought your wife felt slightly threatened by my presence earlier. I don't want to cause problems between you and her, so if you think it could, I'll keep my distance," Sam offered, obviously detecting the same challenge I detected in Marsha's question earlier.

There was no way I would lose the opportunity to express my true feelings for her finally, and to be quite honest; I could hardly wait for that one dance she requested, so I replied. "No way, Sam. I love Marsha very much, but we have so much catching up to do, and who knows when we'll ever get a chance again," I said.

Sam's heartwarming smile acknowledged that she agreed. "I'm so happy you're here," she whispered.

"What'll ya have?" The barkeep asked as the couple in front of me moved aside.

I ordered another round for Marsha and me and slipped him another five-dollar tip. "Thanks very much," he said, placing our drinks on the small bar.

As I reached to pick them up, Sam's delicate hand touched mine. "I can't wait for you to hold me in your arms," she whispered, letting me know how much she was also looking forward to what could be our last dance together.

I returned to our table to find Janet and Marsha deep in conversation about their respective families, comparing photos of their kids and talking about how hard it was to cut the apron strings when they reached maturity.

"Look how pretty Rick and Janet's daughter is," Marsha said, handing me a photo of a stunning young woman dressed in a black sweater wearing a single strand of pearls.

Some things never change. I remember not long after I received the invitation for this reunion, I dug out my yearbook and leafed through the senior photo section. Every girl wore a black sweater and a single strand of pearls.

"Her senior photo?" I asked, handing the picture back to Janet.

"Yes, two years ago. She'll be a junior at Cal State this fall." Janet said.

Marsha again said. "She gorgeous." Which was putting it mildly.

"This is our son Rick Jr," Janet said, handing me a photo of her son.

"He graduated in June and enlisted in the Marines," Janet remarked.

Rick added. "Just like his old man. But he'll fight his battles in the desert instead of a fricking jungle."

Rick was one of those classmates who headed for Vietnam after school, but by his choosing since, at the time, drafted young men went into the Army exclusively.

"My lottery number was two eighty-six," I remarked, knowing Rick would recall the system used to pick those who would be drafted.

"One o three," Rick answered, explaining his enlistment in the Marines.

He continued. "I figured if I were going to Nam, I'd get the best training possible, so I joined the Corp. Besides, I got to play some pretty interesting golf courses while on r and r in Okinawan."

Wait staff started moving between the tables, delivering the first course of our meal. The usual fresh fruit cup followed shortly after that with the main course. The unmistakable banquet fare of a broiled boneless breast of chicken smothered in some Alfredo sauce with green beans and almond shavings and a rice dish reminded me of rice-a-roni.

Conversation during dinner was light and surrounded our recollections of events that occurred during our years in school together. While we ate, I glanced at Sam as often as I could without being obvious. Marsha and Janet continued talking about their lives after they'd married the two guys from our class. The other two couples at our table, neither of whom I recalled from school, kept to themselves.

As some of the wait staff began clearing mostly half-full dishes, the rest started moving from table to table, offering what looked like dry cake and vanilla ice cream plus coffee or tea.

"I'm going to pass on dessert," Marsha mentioned when asked if she wanted some by, the young girl holding a serving tray full of cake.

"Me too," I said when offered the meal's final course.

Rick was already digging into his cake, and I figured Janet would sit there and melt into a puddle of soft ice cream and go untouched. Judging from her shapely figure, I doubted if she indulged in dessert often.

"Coffee or tea?" Another staff member asked.

"I reached for my three-quarter full JD and water and said. "I'm good."

Marsha, Janet, and Rick all asked for coffee, which was poured on the spot.

I glanced at Sam as she sipped from her coffee cup. It was then I realized she was alone. The three other couples at her table left an empty chair beside her. I'd have to ask her where her husband was tonight when we got a chance to talk.

As dinner ended, the lights were dimmed slightly, and the DJ hired to provide the entertainment began speaking over his PA system.

The usual awards for longest distance traveled, most children sired, and longest marriage were handed out. A new one was added for most times divorced, which went to Bill Chessman, who somehow found a way to win and lose four women since high school.

Rick laughed when Bill won that award and then said. "That's unsurprising Olde Billy Boy would do anything that moved in school."

Marsha giggled and said. "I wonder how many in attendance tonight did him before graduation."

With the awards part of the entertainment out of the way, the DJ started playing golden oldies from our youth. Couples began moving to the dance floor, most trying to recall the steps from dances we'd not tried for years.

When the first slow song started, I grabbed Marsha's wrist and said. "This is more my speed. Let's dance, hun."

She smiled and stood up, taking my hand as I guided her to the dance floor.

One thing that has always amazed me about my beautiful, sexy wife is how she dances. As I lead her around the floor, her hips move almost independently from her feet. She has this incredible talent to follow my lead while grinding her hips into my loins. More than a few times, I've come off the dance floor sporting a bulge in my slacks.

I circled her hips with both hands and pulled her close to me. Marsha responded by nuzzling her face into my neck and pressing her beautiful breasts against my chest. Now, I usually close my eyes while we're dancing, but tonight, I kept them open so that as we circled about, I could glance toward Sam to see if she was paying attention.

Her smile warmed my heart almost as much as Marsha's firm breasts, and I could hardly wait to feel Sam in my arms later.

"I love you," Marsha whispered while we moved about.

I leaned back a little as Marsha lifted hers from my neck. Staring into each other's eyes, I whispered back. "I love you more."

Our lips touched softly, and as we moved slowly, our bodies pressed tightly together, our kiss became more intense.

Marsha broke our passionate kiss and again nuzzled her face into my neck. I turned my lips to her ear and whispered. "I can't wait to get you home later."

Marsha moaned, thinking of the passionate lovemaking that awaited her later in the evening.

The DJ grouped two slow tunes, and Marsha slowly made love to my loins until the second song ended.

When our hips finally moved apart, I tried to jiggle myself so the erection that tented my slacks wouldn't be so noticeable as we returned to our table.

Once I'd reached the protection of our table and I could slip my hand under the cloth, I adjusted the angle my hard cock had swelled toward, giving me a little relief. Marsha slipped her hand under the fabric and slowly ran her delicate fingers along my surging erection.

Her lips touched my ear as she whispered. "I can't wait to feel this deep inside me."

My broad smile acknowledged that I couldn't wait either.

Bill and Janet were off doing the boogie loo or some other gyration-type dance, and the other couples were nowhere to be found, so Marsha and I had the table to ourselves.

"Before you go catch up with Sam, I want to tell you something, baby," Marsha said.

I expected her to say something about my relationship with Sam, but Marsha surprised me when she admitted. "I wasn't candid earlier when discussing my date with Scott."

I wanted to tell her that like my thing for Sam, her date with Scotty was ancient history, and she didn't need to rehash the details, but my curiosity kept me quiet.

"He was drunk and passed out in his car, like I said earlier," Marsha explained. "But before I hitched a ride with my girlfriend, I sucked his cock."

I smiled, knowing this tidbit had eaten at her all evening.

"It was the first time I'd ever sucked cock, and since he was passed out, I figured if I didn't like it, I could stop and no one would ever know."

"Including Scotty?" I asked.

"He never budged; the alcohol kept him under. Well, to make a long story short, I liked it, and that night was the first time I'd tasted a man's cum." Marsha admitted quietly.

My shit-eating grin acknowledged that Marsha was telling me that, unknown to him, Scotty had introduced her to a taste she'd craved ever since. Her love of mouth-watering cum shots was partly responsible for us only having two children. She almost always wants me to pull out right before I blow my load and give it to her in that soft, succulent mouth, which I was confident I'd be doing later.

"You should find him and tell him what he missed," I suggested.

Marsha just smiled and replied. "No fucking way. He can continue being completely confused as to why he woke up with his dick hanging out of his pants." Her sexy giggle accentuated the remark.

Rick and Janet returned, sweating profusely from their round of fast dancing.

"I'm getting too old for that shit," Rick admitted.

Marsha slipped her hand under the table again after checking the condition of my slightly reduced size. "Why don't you sit with Samantha and chat for a while."

Her quick kiss let me know that she'd be paying attention to make sure both my hands remained on top of the table.

"You'll be okay," I asked.

"Sure, Janet and I will talk while you're gone," she replied.

I looked over toward Sam and caught her looking at me. Her broad smile warmed my heart and invited me to join her. The couple next to her was on the dance floor, and as I approached, Sam said. "Sit here." Her slim fingers patted the chair next to her.

I sat down, making sure Marsha saw me place both hands on the table so she could chat with Janet worry-free.

"She's a beautiful woman," Sam began, looking toward Marsha as she began talking with Janet.

I smiled and admitted. "I love her very much."

Sam's heartwarming smile flashed across her lips. "It shows Paul," she remarked.

Not wanting this talk to go like a round of twenty questions but curious about why she was alone tonight, I asked. "Where's your husband?"

Sam smiled and placed her soft hand on mine. "Frank and I split up three years ago after the kids finished college," she said.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I replied.

"Things weren't good for a long time, Paul. He was cheating on me within a year after we moved to Seattle," Sam continued.

"That must have been hard to endure," I remarked, doing some quick math and realizing she lived with that for maybe fifteen or twenty years.

"I got by with my work and the kids as the center of my life," Sam admitted.

"Did you go back into nursing?" I asked, realizing I was asking too many questions instead of letting Sam move the conversation along at her own pace.

She smiled and answered. "I worked as a hospice nurse for sixteen years. Then, two years ago, a position with a nursing firm opened here, and I moved back. I've been doing hospice nursing here for the last two years.

I almost couldn't believe my ears. "You moved home two years ago and didn't contact me before now?" I asked.

She squeezed my hand before saying. "I did some checking around when I first got back and found out that you were happily married, so I didn't think it was a good idea for us to have any contact."

I felt my emotions taking over, and my eyes filled with moisture as I turned my hand over to gently hold hers. "Sam, I've been in love with you since I first met you in junior high."

"I know that now, Paul," she replied. "If I had realized it while we were in high school, our lives would have been very different," Sam added.

I felt so stupid. Had I been able to get over my extreme shyness in school and tell her how much I loved her, Sam and I would be attending this reunion as husband and wife.

"Paul, do you remember what I wrote in your yearbook?" Sam asked.

"Do I remember? I read your words just a few weeks ago," I replied.

Sam smiled and warmed my heart. "When I wrote Always and Forever, I meant I'd love you always and forever," Sam said, a tiny tear streaking down her soft cheek from the corner of her eye.

"I will always love you, Paul. And you'll be in my heart forever," she whispered, holding her hand to her heart.

I knew that our love for each other would remain a secret that Sam and I would carry to our graves. The woman I'd married raised two wonderful children with and have loved for thirty-six years would be my wife forever.

I felt fortunate to have the love of two sensitive, caring, and passionate women and smiled, knowing I could love them simultaneously.

"Dance with me," Sam whispered.

As we walked hand in hand to the dance floor, the DJ started playing a song from our past. The Righteous Brothers Unchained Melody began to play.

Sam melted into my arms, her warm, soft body touching mine in every possible way. As I hugged her tightly, she curled her arms up behind me to softly place her hands on my neck, and her soft cheek rested on my shoulder.

Eyes closed, we began a slow, soulful dance as the words played, "I've hungered for your touch a long, lonely time." Her fingers laced into my hair, and she lifted her lips to whisper. "I need your love, I need your love. God speed your love to me."

The song didn't last nearly long enough, but in the three or four minutes while the Righteous Brothers serenaded my love and me, we consummated the love of a lifetime. Unlike husband and wife, our consummation was one of mind and spirit, which would carry Sam and me until our dying breaths.

As the song ended, Sam lifted her head from my shoulder and looked up into my glistening eyes. In a whisper barely audible, she said. "Thank you for always loving me."

I kissed her softly on the lips and pulled her lovely, soft body close to me for one last time. Turning my lips to her ear, I whispered. "Always and Forever."

I felt her shudder and was sure tears were cascading down her cheeks. She moved back, breaking our hug, a broad smile on her lips. It warmed my heart.

As she wiped the tears, she said. "Let me take you back to your wonderful wife."

Her hand grasped mine, and we slowly walked toward Marsha, who was watching intently from our table.

Once there, Sam leaned down and whispered something in Marsha's ear.

Marsha smiled at Sam and then said. "I know."

As Sam began to move away, Marsha said. "Why don't you have a seat with us."

Sam smiled but said. "I have to get going. I'm on call tomorrow morning at six thirty."

I was glad she declined. Nothing more needed to be said. We both had gotten what we came for, which was the confirmation that we had stayed in love, apart for forty years.