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We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off
by Geminiguy (geminiguy7.hotmail.co.uk@gmail.com) 

***

A guy attends his 10th class reunion and finds it most 
enjoyable when he hooks up with the girl of his 
dreams. (MF, intr, sex-in-public, rom)

***

Author's Note: "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off 
(To Have A Good Time)" [with apologies to Jermaine 
Stewart] 

***

I was so looking forward to my tenth year class 
reunion. It wasn't because I loved high school; I had 
fucking hated it. I was too tall, underweight, 
extremely shy, I just hadn't fit in. I was glad when 
it had been over. I had gotten a full scholarship to 
one of the best colleges. I worked hard. I maintained 
a 3.75. I shared a dorm room with a jock; he had 
exercise equipment right in our room and he became my 
personal trainer [and I was his tutor]. 

I lost my virginity to a hot cheerleader that he'd 
setup for me. I gained confidence. It helped that I 
had a large cock [I just hadn't known it]. By the time 
I graduated from college I was on top of the world. I 
got a great job with a high salary. I made sure I went 
to the gym regularly and made time for the ladies. I 
started my own business which just keeps growing year 
after year. Life is good.

All that had happened to me since high school was the 
reason I was looking forward to my reunion. I wanted 
everyone to see how much I'd changed. A place had been 
rented for the reunion, the date had been set and I 
had my tux. When the day arrived I didn't rush. I 
didn't want to be one of the first ones there. I 
wasn't nervous either. I was relaxed and confident. 
When I walked in I saw the table where you received 
your name tag so people would know who you were. 

I recognized all the ladies who were sitting behind 
it, and I was pleased that none seemed to recognize 
me. I had helped most of them with their homework, 
wearing my geeky hairdo, my geeky glasses, my geeky 
clothes. They'd all gotten more beautiful in ten 
years. I went up to the first girl. She smiled, said 
hi and asked me my name. 

When I told her she just stared at me a while, but 
then her eyes went wide. "Oh my god!" She squealed. 
"It's Jim!" The other girls looked up and stared at 
me. Soon they, too, were squealing and gathering 
around me.

Questions flew as the girls had to know everything I'd 
been doing since high school, was I married, was I 
dating, etc. I just grinned and enjoyed the attention. 
I found out most of them were married themselves but I 
could tell by the look in their eyes they didn't care. 
They finally let me go - with promises of a dance or 
two with each of them - and gave me my name tag. I 
went in the main room, it was decorated with an 80s 
theme with 80s music blaring. I didn't care. The 80s 
were the best. 

I ran into a lot of guys who had been geeks back in 
high school who were now even bigger geeks [with 
bombshell wives on their arms]. I ran into jocks that 
had let themselves go, all the muscle now flab. I even 
saw a few going bald already. A few had stayed in 
shape and had gotten into professional sports [I don't 
keep up with sports and didn't know until other former 
schoolmates had told me]. I split my time either 
catching up with some guys over a few beers or being 
snagged for a dance with a lovely lady.

I remembered all of their names [the girls I mean] and 
boy, did they flirt. All in all, it was turning out to 
be a great evening. It was on an emotional high by the 
time she came in. She was the girl of my dreams in 
high school; a gorgeous African-American model who 
want on to a big time model. Her name was Charlotte 
and she was even hotter now than she'd been back in 
high school. She was about 5'7, 5'8, with long, almost 
wavy black hair, her curvy body encased in a tight, 
tight red dress that showed off her butt and huge [all 
natural - she'd been busty all through high school] 
tits. 

I made my way to her. The hounds were gathering near 
[a line from an 80s song] but Charlotte wasn't 
interested. I finally made it to her. "Charlotte?" I 
said. She just stared at me at first. And like the 
other girls she seemed to recognize me by my blue 
eyes. "Jim?" A smile formed on her lips. I just 
grinned. "It is you!" Charlotte gave me a big hug, her 
huge tits and her crotch pressing against me.

I couldn't help getting fully hard [I'd been half hard 
not of the night because of all the girls there]. 
"You've popped into my mind on and off over the years, 
I've wondered how you've done," Charlotte said as she 
let go of me. "You've been on my mind a lot over the 
years, Charlotte," I told her. She looked embarrassed 
at my 'revelation' but also pleased. I pulled her on 
the floor for a dance [something I wasn't good at, I 
got dance lessons from a girl in college]. 

We talked a little as we danced but did most of our 
talking off the dance floor over drinks. Charlotte and 
I were pretty much inseparable after our first dance. 
We caught up on each other's lives, Charlotte had been 
married three times, divorced the last two years. No 
children. Her life pretty much revolted around 
modeling. I brought up her English accent, something 
I'd always been curious about but too shy to ask 
about. Charlotte told me her family came from 
Manchester. Soon they dimmed the lights and put on a 
love song.

This time Charlotte pulled me out onto the dance 
floor; not that I minded. She pressed her crotch into 
me more persistently. I knew Charlotte could feel my 
hard cock as she ground against me. And I swear I 
could feel the heat of her pussy. If we were 
inseparable earlier we were even more inseparable now 
as we danced through song after song. I could hear 
Charlotte breathing in my ear. 

After about five songs someone slipped in "We Don't 
Have Take Our Clothes Off" by Jermaine Stewart but the 
lights stayed low. Charlotte chuckled hoarsely in my 
ear. "You know, this is giving me ideas," she 
whispered, sliding a hand down to my butt a squeezing 
it. 

I raised an eyebrow. We were on the edge of the dance 
floor near one corner of the room. I'd noticed 
somewhat of a nook in the corner. It seemed Charlotte 
had also noticed it. No one seemed to notice as we 
eased towards it. Soon we were out of the sight of our 
former classmates. We began to make out, my hands all 
over Charlotte's huge tits.

Charlotte unzipped my pants and slid her hand inside. 
She worked my hard cock out of my briefs and pants and 
began to stroke it. She let go of it and pulled her 
long dress up around her waist. I was surprised 
Charlotte had no panties on as my cock pressed against 
her hairy crotch. She moaned. Charlotte threw her legs 
around my waist and pulled herself up my body with her 
arms around my neck. "Penetrate me..." She gasped. 

I let go of Charlotte's tits and slid one hand between 
us. I worked my cock into her hairy and very wet 
pussy. Charlotte was very tight. I guess she didn't 
get all that much sex during her marriage [not to 
mention she told me later she hadn't had any sex since 
her last divorce]. 

I wrapped my hands around her large, firm butt as I 
bounced her up and down on my cock. We locked lips as 
we fucked secretly, Charlotte moaning in my mouth. 
Soon she was cumming and screaming in my mouth as we 
kissed. Charlotte came often, at least twenty times.

I had lost track of time; they had played like seven 
or eight songs as we fucked out of sight. I finally 
felt my own orgasm coming on. My balls tightened up 
and I began to spurt my heavy load up into Charlotte. 
Once I was drained, she climbed off of me, still 
kissing me as she pulled her dress back down. 

Charlotte slid my still half hard cock back into my 
briefs and zipped me back up. She broke our kiss and 
pulled away, straightening out her dress. "See?" 
Charlotte grinned as we slipped back out onto the 
dance floor. "We really didn't have to take our 
clothes off to have a good time..." And boy, was 
Charlotte right.

THE END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 77