June 22nd 

I am starving for a night out! I have been such a slave to the grind for ages, and as exhausted as that has made me, my soul is screaming for five minutes of fun! Ryan's work has really taken its toll and he's never been more inaccessible; he's too exhausted to even muster up a smile half the time, never mind becoming meaningfully invested in an evening together.

Even less likely to occur, is the night of deep, hard, uninhibited, hedonistic fucking I know I need. I can't blame him; he’s having such a tough time at work, and with the big deadline coming up, he has hardly anything left over for anyone at the end of the day, not just me. I'm willing to wait for things to calm down for him before I start strutting around in nothing but thigh-high stockings. 

But I need to do something to blow off some steam, and I have a feeling my high school reunion this weekend is not going to cut it.

June 26th

Well, I went to my twenty-year high school reunion, and I do have to admit, it was much more exciting than I thought it would be. I hadn't seen Vinda since graduation. I wasn’t sure if I would see her at the reunion, but of course I was hoping. 

It was probably a good thing we parted ways when we did. She was a very magnetic influence that would have derailed my life trajectory completely had we not. We were getting close in some dangerous ways, but the memories we made were scandalous! 

Skinny dipping in the school lap pool and flashing guys from her mom's convertible quickly became child's play. By the end of high school, we had surprised strange boys in dark movie theaters with double blow jobs and fucked valet guys together in the back of that same convertible. 

We liked to play a game where we would get a guy alone and rock hard, take turns sitting in his cock, touching each other until he was close. Then we would voraciously trib in front of him, sometimes having synchronized orgasms, until we were both exhausted and he was totally blue. A few times, it got a little scary with a few of those boys and we had to grab our clothes a run out the back of their parents’ houses half-naked once they realized they'd likely be finishing up by themselves. 

We were hot and horny and ready to play games with boys' hearts. What we didn't say out loud, though, was that our antics served as an excuse to be open lovers in a time when it was more acceptable to be a slut than a queer. 

In the process, I learned some things about myself; I love to fuck women, I love to fuck men, and the more public, anonymous, or legendary the sex, the better. But a life of throwing sexual caution to the wind would not get me through medical school and safely settled with one true love, which I had also learned I wanted for myself.

Seeing her at the high school reunion was surreal; she was too cool for school back then, and if I must be honest, she was way too hot for the reunion now. Holy shit. She was always one of the hottest girls in school, but now?! The hottest woman I've seen with my own eyes in ages.

I wasn't the only one who noticed, as you can imagine. I saw several of the football players grinning and whispering to each other, no doubt reminiscing about their one shot with her back in the day and making jokes about wishing they had their notebooks. Their wives were also impressed in ways that made them consider putting some pressure on their husbands to leave early. 

Ryan noticed her too, and though he did his best to temper his response, the slight gasp from his lips was understandable and warranted. "That's your crazy friend that you went skinny dipping with?!" Hehehe. Shhhh! I've been slowly divulging my experience for years, but I've left a few things out.

She still has all the features that drove guys wild back then; Dark twinkling eyes, full lips, beautiful sunkissed skin, a gorgeous smile dripping with sensuality, and long black hair flowing over a statuesque neck. But long gone is the budding beauty with all the potential of a future centerfold. The centerfold is here and proud. 

In with her radiant face walked a gorgeous, smooth yet sculpted body draped in wine-colored satin, with full round breasts and ass, and a cinched waist. Delicately toned muscles in her shoulders and calves flexed subtly as she laughed and gracefully teetered in her heels.

When I first saw her, I thought "She had to have just shown up to show off. She is leagues above this gang!" When we locked eyes, she headed straight for me and exclaimed her happiness to see me. She said reconnecting with me was the only point of coming to this gathering of silly boys who always just wanted in her pants and jealous girls who hated her for it.

She'd thought of messaging me over the years but was unsure if it was appropriate to interrupt my dream life, having achieved my professional and romantic goals. I didn’t mention that my dream life has been frustratingly less than dreamy. I'd been very tempted to look her up over the years myself, but I resisted for the same reasons she assumed she should. 

I could barely contain my excitement at having her here in front of me, smiling, beautiful, missing me like I've missed her. I blurted out "I have been thinking about you for twenty years! I've had literal dreams about finding you again!" The slight raise of her eyebrow signaled she knew what I meant by "thinking" about her, dreaming of her, even if I was trying not to show it. 

What I did learn about her sounded like a dream life of independence and entrepreneurial success. She owns two yoga studios in the city and a small nightclub near the bay that I have never been to because my life no longer includes nightclubs. She just got back from a yoga retreat in Bali! Having never married or had children, she has dedicated her life to exploring the world and herself. I understood how her body could have only gotten more perfect over time; she has made her body her work and it's obvious.

As we sat together talking, barely skimming the surface of our long and storied separation, I resisted a long-forgotten but instinctual urge to wrap my arm around her back and tuck my hand under her thigh as she leaned in to hear me over the music. I know half the room is watching, remembering, willing for one of us to make a move, if only for old times sake. I wondered if Ryan was one of them. I had to bite my tongue several times to keep from interrupting her by insisting it belonged in her amazing mouth.

We exchanged numbers and made hypothetical plans to get together to catch up, and I immediately began resisting the urge to text her everything I've wanted to tell her, and do to her, over the past two decades.

By the time we got home from the reunion, Ryan's passenger seat was warm and slick with a renewed lust I was so desperately trying to talk myself out of. I hope it will be dry by morning. 

I wanted so badly to tell her how much I miss the taste of her pussy, the feeling of her full lips enveloping my clit, licking and sucking me like she is starving, and I am a ripe pear. Ugh! This is insane. I just cannot go there. 

I won't be able to control my fantasies about it though, and I will allow myself that pleasure. I'm off to rub my clit in the shower to the thought of Vinda's face buried deep in my pussy, her long nails gently digging into my ass cheeks to keep me steady as I come in seconds flat.

June 27th

Even after four orgasms in the shower and two more just to get to sleep, I wanted so badly to text her about how wet and desperate for her I'd been all evening. I resisted though, and awoke to a text from Vinda asking me to meet her Saturday night at her nightclub! I have this feeling my dirty little prayers might have been heard!

Wait, stop! This is not going to be some perfect fantasy played out in a porn film or romance novel. Grow up, Celeste. We are just two middle-aged ladies who used to be crazy girls together catching up and laughing at our antics! That is all it is. It's all it can be. I can't jeopardize my marriage for some nostalgic sexual escapade, no matter how desperately I know I need it. 

And maybe this is all desperation talking anyway; my imagination taking me to other dimensions where the impossible can happen. All I'm in for is a free drink and drenched panties that I'll be taking off myself. Yeah, grow up, Celeste.

July 2nd

I'm not the only one nervous about tonight. Ryan, I'm sure, has felt things have been a bit off. Having spent the past few days secretly living in an internal den of hedonistic debauchery, I'm sure the electricity coming off me was palpable. He's no doubt been too distracted by his work to notice how long my showers are, but there's no mistaking it's because I've been trying to put out a fire. 

I tell him I am just nervous to reconnect with an old friend after so much has changed and after not having much of a social life for ages. Knowing that wasn’t enough to explain the voltage arcing off me, I threw him a bone he would think he found himself; that she's just so beautiful, I’m just a bit intimidated by her. 

He gave a slight "I knew it" smirk. "She is ridiculously hot. I've been thinking about the silly stuff you told me you guys did. The mental pictures were hot before, but now actually being able to picture the two of you naked together? Fuck!" I was pleasantly surprised by this warm-blooded moment and even more surprised to see that it was our hot girl shenanigans doing it for him. 

I took the opportunity to offer to tell him more stories about me and my sexy friend while I stroked his cock sometime, secretly wondering if I would have to disguise some hopefully soon-to-be fulfilled fantasies as just more feral teen girl antics of the distant past. The thought sent a surge through my pussy.

But as much as I missed his body along with Vinda’s, I have a night out to get ready for, and my body is begging me to bring my sexual energy with me even if I do end up bringing it home again.

It took me an hour to decide what to wear, but I landed on a white button-up blouse with a black bra, a red mini skirt over a black lace thong, and strappy red heels. I haven't channeled this much vixen since my early twenties when I spent every Saturday night at the Thump Hub, named for the deep-driving bass beats but known for its well-earned double entendre. 

It took a little while after parting from Vinda for my wild days to wind down, but those were the last of them, and I feel even sexier now than I did then. I can already feel the heat building between my legs as I strap on my heels. I put some perfume on my ankles.

Wish me luck, whatever that means for me!