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The thing that struck her most was the passage of time. Driving through town on a warm summer afternoon, wondering if she knew this person or that person. That's when it hit her- it had been 15 years since she had cruised these streets, laughing and carrying on and doing all the things that teenagers do.

Of course, back then she didn't have a car, and didn't have the perspective of college, work, the outside world. Still, it struck her just how long it had been since her school days.

The reunion was tonight, but right now she was letting the memories wash over her as she drove the streets she used to walk as a teen. She was 33, happily married and had a good job, but that was another world. Here, she was on her own, reliving her youth.

Trips were odd little creatures that way; once she got out of town and away from her 'working self', it was as if the other life was put on temporary hold. A phrase popped into her head: 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas'. Stupid phrase, but she understood what it meant. And so did hubby, which was one of the reasons she was happily married.

Heather felt a tingle. When she had brought up the possibility of going to the reunion, hubby had encouraged her to take the trip. And when she cautioned that she might run into an old boyfriend, his reply had turned her on: "So what? You'll be there, not here". Translation: do whatever you want. Different place, different rules.

"Be careful saying that," she said.

"I mean it. Have fun." He stared right at her. "But you have to tell me about it."

The thing was, he knew what reunions did to her. A couple of years earlier, she had flown off to another one, a get-together with people from her first job, before she had even met hubby. She had talked a pal into making the trip with her, because he had worked with her back then.

Probably a good thing he came along, because he kept her out of trouble, for the most part. It had been a great night, old boyfriends leering at her, lots of dancing and catching up. There also had been a lot of drinking, and she couldn't even remember making it back to her hotel room. The next morning, she had woken up in her room, her clothes neatly folded on a chair. All of her clothes: she was naked, and she knew there was no way she could have folded anything, let alone stack them so neatly. Blouse, skirt, bra, panties, set just so.

She had shrugged. If her friend had put her to bed, so be it, although she had a vague sense of... something else. She had even mentioned it to hubby, but he just laughed. And actually said to her: "Knowing him, that would have made his day."

His reply had given her an odd tingle, and here she was on another trip, anticipating who she might see, and talk to. As much as she loved the social aspect of getting caught up, there was more than a little anticipation about who might be there, and what they might look like.

But this time she didn't have a chaperone, and the tingle was back.

"So I'm about to head in."

She was sitting in her car, watching others drifting toward the main entrance of her old high school.

"Are you going to have fun?" There was tease to his voice, which made her feel a bit slippery.

"Yes," she paused. "Well, you know, I'm here..." and she knew he would fill in the rest on his own.

"What are you wearing?"

"That little summer dress you like, you know, with the buttons." He loved that dress, because it showed lots of leg. And he loved the buttons on top, because they could be undone.

"Bra?"

"Of course." Once in awhile, when she was feeling it, she went without a bra. She loved the looks she got, but she really couldn't do it here. Almost to make up for it, she had popped an extra button, even though the dress was a bit low-cut. A bit of flash, but nothing obvious. She did it sometimes at work, just to spice things up. It was fun seeing guys angle in for a bit of down-blouse.

"What else? Dolled up? Heels?"

"Yes, pervert."

He laughed, which was arousing. Hubby liked it when she 'dolled up', make-up and hair just so, and he thought heels added to it. It turned her on that he wanted her to look sexy walking into a reunion.

Heather said, "Okay, I'm off."

"Have fun. By the way, in an hour, undo a button."

"Already have."

"Another one, then."

Hubby liked it when she got the looks, too.

"Hey - what do you think?"

Steve gestured to the doorway of the gym, and Ted turned to look.

"Hmmm... I like that," he said.

Whoever it was had just walked in, alone. It was kind of funny, actually, the three of them hanging out in the corner, just like they had done so long ago. Different now, of course, each of them married -- well, Ted separated, and Ronnie wasn't happy, but still. And here they were, all these years later, ogling women. Steve loved ogling women.

Something about her, though - "Shit- you know who that is?

Ted and Ronnie shook their heads. "Who?"

"Heather."

Didn't even have to use her last name, because they would know who he was talking about.

"Ya," said Ronnie, and you could hear it in his voice. Arousal.

She felt their eyes when she walked in, and she had to admit, it gave her more than a little satisfaction. She knew she looked good, because she worked at it. Pretty well the same weight as in her teens and twenties, not even a hundred pounds on a lean frame, everything hard and tight- well, maybe except the boobs. That's why she liked wearing this dress- it showed her off. It was snug, molding to her body, and of course, that one extra undone button.

She looked good. Nice makeup, tousled hair, and Steve felt a pleasant little twitch. Her dress clung to her tits, and even from across the room, Steve caught the deep v of her décolletage. She was petite, maybe five feet in her bare feet, but she wasn't in bare feet, she was in heels, which was sort of sexy, but he went back to her dress, and her tits.

Man, he loved tits.

Whoever had decorated had done a good job, both hiding the fact that it was a gym and celebrating it at the same time. Unlike a regular high school dance, though, there was a real bar, a perfect touch for a reunion.

A band played covers, and people were dancing and drinking and milling around, in groups and in pairs. She had already caught up with a couple of old classmates, and she scanned the crowd for more. And again she felt the eyes. There were a couple of guys with 'trophy wives', hard-looking chicks with empty smiles, but she was getting the same looks, and she felt a warm glow. She loved that look, men scanning her bod, especially if they were with someone. She didn't mind seeing a bit of jealousy here and there; in fact, it turned her on when guys paid more attention to her than women they were with.

One particular bunch of guys was giving her the up and down, and she gave them a profile. Fun, and a little hot, too. It seemed to have an effect: one of them ditched his pals and wandered closer, a smile on his face. He looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn't one of her old classmates. Maybe a bit younger than she was, but she couldn't quite place him-

"Heather," he said in greeting. "Steve Jensen."

"Hi." The name was familiar, but not the context.

"I was a year behind you. Fletcher's class."

Then it clicked into place. She remembered a gangly, good-looking k** who thought he was pretty cool. Still good-looking, just not gangly anymore. At all.

He was easy to talk to, and he had good sense of humor. They pointed out people to each other, and Steve was obviously enjoying himself, in ten minutes knocking back a drink and going for another. Once in awhile, his eyes did a quick scan of her boobs, but that was why she had worn this dress, wasn't it? The truth was, when she was in the mood, she liked showing herself off.

"You know," he said, looking around the auditorium. "I have to admit, some of us- and I don't mean us- haven't, how can I put this? Haven't aged well."

"I had sort of noticed." And they both laughed.

"You, on the other hand, look great."

"Why thank you."

"No, I mean, you look great." And he stepped back and looked at her. Still the socially acceptable banter, but she watched his eyes, and sure enough, they lingered exactly where she thought they might.

Man, nice cleavage on her. It was warm in the gym, and Steve noticed a slight sheen to her skin, particularly in the gap. Gee, slippery skin between tits; what could it possibly mean?

Heather felt a flush of pride. He wasn't being a pig about it, but he obviously liked what saw.

His eyes came back up, and he didn't seem concerned that she had caught him checking her out. "Uh-huh," he said. "You look great." He jerked his head to the other side of the gym. "In fact, we were talking about it."

She looked over to the wall, where the other two guys were sort-of watching them. "What are they, still in high school?"

Steve laughed. "Ah, they're doing what they always do. Speaking of which..." The music had picked up, and he gestured to the dance floor. "Wanna?"

"Sure do."

Heather felt the years fall away as she danced. It was so much better than in high school, none of the uncertainty and drama of being a teen. A lot of the others seem to be in the same mood, just dancing and having fun.

Steve was grinning like a fool, occasionally looking into the corner. She realized he was showing off for his friends, and she played it up, making it obvious she was enjoying his company. Sort of hot doing it, wondering what they were thinking.

Another song and more dancing, and Heather felt herself warming up. In both ways. It was warm on the dance floor, and Steve's obvious interest in her was a turn-on. The music slowed, and for moment they looked at each other, then he offered his hand. It was a slow dance to an old song, nothing improper beyond a little body contact. She had a quick thought- hubby will love hearing about this.

Heather was disappointed when it ended. Then Steve said, "I need another drink."

It was fun and flirty and Heather was enjoying herself. They sat, drinks in hand, watching the show. Old classmates came over, and everyone oohed and aahed at each other. And at some point, Steve's two pals came over.

"Heather, remember Ronnie and Ted?"

Well, not really, but she was all smiles. Nice enough guys, although not in Steve's league. Still, it was sort of hot, because they were both giving her that look. Ronnie, in particular, couldn't keep his eyes off her boobs. They were funny, and talkative, and soon enough everyone was laughing. Every time she looked away, she felt Ronnie's eyes dropping to her cleavage. And because she was feeling the heat, she maybe gave him a few extra opportunities, twisting slightly so that her dress occasionally popped open. Every time she did it, she felt him stiffen - so to speak - when he looked into her cleavage.

Then she remembered what hubby had said.

She excused herself and headed for the bar. It was busy, but she managed to snag a drink. She ran into a couple of classmates and caught up with them, then looked back at Steve and his pals, who were leaning together in conversation. She would have bet big money they weren't talking about the weather, and the thought gave her a little bump of pleasure. Probably her tits, especially given Ronnie's wandering eye. She checked to make sure no one was watching, then popped another button. She felt the material sag open. What to hell, it fit her mood.

As she headed back, three pairs of eyes turned to her, and they all had the same look.

"Miss me?" she teased, and made a point of sitting beside Ronnie. And once they all started gabbing again, she casually leaned forward.

Ronnie stared, eyes wide. Heather's dress had popped way open, and her tits were almost falling out. Her bra was a lacy thing, cut low- and he suddenly realized it was so sheer that he could see her nipples! It was as good as some of the soft-core he saw on-line, only this was better because he knew her. She was talking to Steve, oblivious, and her nips seemed to get harder even as he watched. Ted had noticed, too, and they exchanged quick grins. She turned back, slowly enough that they weren't caught staring at her tits. Man, what he could do with those boobs.

They talked some more, and every time Heather turned away, it was down-blouse heaven. She laughed at something Steve said, and her tits jiggled sexily, straining against the material of her thin bra. But then Ronnie caught the nod from Steve, and he and Ted made an excuse to drift away, although not far enough that he couldn't catch the occasional glimpse of her dress. And her boobs.

Heather was enjoying herself. She wouldn't have minded hanging out with Steve when he was younger. He had moved away for a few years, but came back and opened a small store. He was married, but Heather read it as 'married', and who was she to judge, especially given what she was doing right now? He was obviously enjoying her company, which was flattering, and inevitably the conversation drifted back to past lives. Friends, who had seen who, who was still seeing who, affairs, all of it.

And then, "You know I used to fantasize about you."

That got her attention "Really?"

"The hot older woman."

Well, that was certainly interesting, and extremely flattering. She loved that someone way back when thought she was hot.

He nodded. "Actually, we all did."

"Sounds like a line to me."

He grinned and leaned closer. "There was one time, we were all hanging out near the lake, and you showed up. In a bikini."

It sounded like her, because she always had bikinis that fit really well. She had the body for it, and she didn't mind putting it on display.

Steve was grinning. "It was a small bikini. You looked really good. I think some of the other girls were pissed off". He took a drink. "We talked about that bikini a lot."

" 'We'?"

"The guys." He laughed and lifted his glass- a bit sloppily- in the direction of his buddies.

Heather felt a familiar little bump. It was fun talking to Steve, because of the attention, because of his obvious interest. She had downed a drink or three, which had taken the edge of, and so had Steve. She knew he was a bit drunk when he leaned in and dropped his voice, "Actually, we didn't really talk about the bikini."

Heather felt it. Yes, the gym was getting warmer, but the conversation itself had taken on some heat. She vaguely remembered hanging out at the lake that summer, but hearing how they had fantasized - his word- about her was hot.

"Then what did you talk about?" she asked. It was all light and airy, but there was more to it than that.

He looked at her, and for moment his eyes went out of focus. "The way you looked. Your bod." He took a drink, as if fortifying himself. "What we wanted to do".

Well, that was certainly specify. She almost let the obvious question slip out- "And what did you want to do?" but she maybe had an idea of what it was.

Just then the music started up again and everyone headed for the dance floor. Steve grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

She went with the flow, which was kind of cool, letting him lead and she got lost in the music, enjoying the movement, enjoying the moment. Enjoying what Steve had said. Image tumbled, and she felt more heat. Getting a bit slippery, wasn't it? And those words: "What we wanted to do."

They danced, and then the music slowed right down. This time, there wasn't any hesitation: Steve pulled Heather close. Oddly, even though the dance floor was crowded- actually, because it was crowded- it felt intimate and anonymous. Steve obviously felt the same way, and his hand slid lower, brushing her ass.

They were just flirting, but even as she thought it, he pulled her closer. She didn't fight it, in fact, may have pressed her pussy up against his leg. Didn't really have a choice, with the dance floor so crowded.

The first slow song flowed into another, and it was like being back in high school again. Steve's hand slid up and down her back, slow and sensual. He pulled her onto his thigh again and she pushed her pussy against him. He obviously took this as an invitation, and his hand swept up along her side, sliding over the side of her boob. He held her like that, his hands high up, pressing the edge of his hand into her boobs. As they danced, the back of his hand caressed her boobs. More moments to share with hubby.

The music died away and they pulled apart. No on one had noticed the little grope, and that in itself sort if turned her on. They made there way back to the table, a little breathless.

"That was fun," Steve said at last. "Lots of people." Translation; no one saw a thing.

She nodded. "Lots of people." Not a word about what had just gone on the dance floor, which was as sort of hot in itself.

Heather recognized the mood she was in. Sometimes it caught up with her, feeling hot, feeling a little out of control, but enjoying it all. This reunion transported her to another time when she was young, sleek, and had all the fun she wanted. Not as if she did this all the time, but what was the harm? Didn't change who she was.

"And what did you want to do?"

Steve looked at her. "Pardon?"

"You said the guys talked about 'what you wanted to do'." Heather took a drink.

"With me."

Steve stared for a few seconds, then shrugged. "You know, the regular." And with that, he gave her a goofy grin, his eyes traveling all the way up and down her body, lingering, of course, on her cleavage.

She gave him a look. "Chicken."

He laughed, and she laughed, and they each snagged another drink from a passing friend. They talked a bit more, about the warm weather, about nothing.

When the music slowed down again they both stood and headed for the dance floor as if by mutual agreement. No hesitation this time: they came together in the anonymity of the crowded dance floor. He pulled her close, onto his thigh, and she responded, sliding her pussy along his leg. Hmmm, thin summer dress, tiny panties, slippery pussy. What do you say to that?

Then just like high school, lost in the crowd, he leaned forward and kissed her and the last 15 years fell away. They were two teenagers in the middle of a dance floor, and she necked with him, sloppily, his hand on her ass, Heather grinding her pussy into him.

Went they broke, she looked around, but no one had even noticed, because everyone else was wrapped up in their own little drama on the crowded floor. It was as if all the rules were gone, and he pulled her into another kiss.

This time, his hand slid up her side, and he cupped the side of her boobs. Not a quick grope; his thumbs moved slowly, sliding across the outline of her nipples, and Heather felt them tighten up. Steve squeezed her tits gently as he thumbed her nipples. When Heather felt his cock on her abdomen she pressed her pussy harder onto his leg, sliding up and down, increasingly turned on by the anonymity of the crowd. Steve's hand slid sideways and then into her bra and he closed on her boob, squeezing. Heather glanced around, but everyone was in their own little world and he squeezed her tit again, a little more insistent this time.

They both recognized that the music was coming to an end, and it seemed to spur them both on. They kissed, and his hands were all over her, so fucking hot, and being in the middle of a crowd was itself a turn on.

When the song ended, they made their way back to the table, and she knew she was as flushed as he was. It was sort of hot doing this, using the anonymity of the crowd, and then acting all normal. Still, she felt the slickness in her pussy.

He got them another drink, smiling with that charming smile of his. Looked around like a guilty schoolboy, and when the music started, he took her hand and pulled her up. They threaded their way onto the dance floor, which would have been ok, and fun, and really frustrating. But he kept going, pulling her through the crowd and out of the gym.

People were milling about and talking in groups. Pretty obvious that the alcohol had been flowing, lots of laughter and silly grins. Steve lead her along a hallway, then made a couple of turns. Heather vaguely remembered where they were headed. Down another short, dark hallway behind the gym, then he stopped at a doorway.

He opened the door, pulled her inside. Low lighting off to the side, but she recognized it right away, the equipment room, mats stacked haphazardly. Home to necking sessions way back when, and probably ever since, too.

He turned her around, then leaned in and kissed her, and just like that they went at it again. Sloppy, like in high school, which made it even more fun. Heather shut out everything out, just went with it, like fifteen years hadn't passed.

Steve looked down at her, no pretense, and Heather went slippery at the gleam in his eyes. It was so fucking flattering that he had carried his fantasy all these years, and damn arousing, too, and she loved it as he looked her up and down.

He stepped closer, hands on her waist, then he slowly moved them upwards and cupped her tits. Heather moaned, feeling like school girl, only now she knew so much more.

He started in on her dress, peeling it off her shoulders. He stared at the swell of her boobs, barely contained by her bra. He slid his hands inside, then pulled her tits right out of her bra.

Steve stepped back, his eyes glittering. She was standing there, hot and obscene, her tits bunched up over her bra, sticking almost straight out. She had great nipples, and they were erect, and she had that look in her eyes. Waiting for him to make the next move.

He reached up and caressed her tits, her nipples, then underneath, hands closing on her bra. He yanked, and the flimsy material came apart in his hands.

She had great tits, full and liquid and hanging low on her slim torso. She was tight everywhere except her tits, and he liked that. Then he was on them, squeezing them, pulling them. He bent down and sucked a nipple into his mouth and Heather moaned. A bit rougher now, and he grabbed a boob in each hand, staring down at her, and Heather suspected that he was on the verge of drooling, which almost made her laugh. He caught her nipples between his thumb and finger and lifted her tits right off her rib cage. He gave them another little tug, watching them dangle in his fingers. He dropped her tits and pulled her dress over her arms and let it slide to the floor.

Man, it just kept getting better. Small, sleek bod, those great tits up top and then tight abs all the way down. Tiny panties on her, hugging her pussy so tightly that- damn, she was bald! He slid his hands along her torso and onto her panties. He loved the feeling of her bare pussy through the material, and slid his finger along the groove of her cunt.

Heather moaned and pushed against his fingers. Frustrating yet exciting; he was playing the school boy, groping her with her panties on, but it was sort of sweet and hot at the same time. The 'sweet' disappeared when he gripped her panties and yanked them away, as he had done with her bra. Didn't seem to matter that he had ruined them, and the thought turned her on. Very arousing to be naked in this room, sordid and hot at the same time, just the way she liked it. Well, not totally naked- she still had her heels on.

She was in that zone that was do damn exciting, sliding down the slope, unable to stop, not quite knowing where it would end. Well, knowing, but not caring. Over the years, it occasionally got her into trouble, if trouble meant having some guy use her body for anything he wanted. She loved the way he looked at her tits -- guys were so easy to impress -- and the way he pushed her against the mats. She heard a zipper and she slid her hand down his front and wrapped her hand around his cock, loving the feel of the meat, loving the nastiness of what they were doing.

It was hot and feverish and she leaned back as he lifted her onto the mats and spread her legs. Unlike a school k**, he was practiced and he didn't just slide it in - as part of her wanted - he teased her, sliding his cock all around her pussy, just the tip.

Steve watched her pussy as he slid his cock up and down. Sometimes the tease was as exciting as the actual act, the visuals of his cock sliding along her hairless pussy, dipping a bit inside. Her eyes were closed and he really looked at her, a fantasy from way back, open and available to him. Her tits were trembling, and even as he slid his cock slowly up and down her wet cunt, she spread her legs even more.

And Steve thought 'what to hell' and pushed.

Heather almost came on the spot. He slid into her, pulled out, then did it again, deeper, and she felt that wonderful fullness and she fucked back at him. It was hot and sweaty and very arousing.

"You know," he said in a low voice, "- they say that reality isn't as good as the fantasy." He shook his head. "That's bullshit."

Heather moaned. "How does the reality feel?"

"Pretty good."

As if to accentuate his words, Steve pushed back into her, filling her up. Heather squeezed her pussy and lay back on the mats, arms spread. He was an experienced lover, and he looked right into her eyes as he slid into her. Then he looked down, all hunger and lust.

Steve watched his cock sink into her tight pussy. Interesting bod: those long, tight abs, and then those liquid tits sliding back and forth as he fucked her. She reminded him of someone he had seen in an old porn video, Sena or Cindy or something. No, Seka, loose tits, long torso, tight pussy.

He reached down and grabbed a heel in each hand. "Lock your legs," he said, no room for objection. She did, and he spread his arms wide, opening her up impossibly wide as he fucked into her.

"Oh, I like this" he murmured.

Heather closed her eyes. "So, is this what you 'wanted to do'?" She wasn't a beginner either, and even though this was damn exciting, she could carry on a conversation if he could.

He frowned for a second, then the light came on. "Part of it." He gave her another push, sliding all the way in.

"What do you mean 'part' of it?" She looked down as he pulled out, saw his glistening cock slide from her pussy. He stared back at her, his face unreadable.

"Tell me," she said. As if to drive the point home, she gave a little push with her hips, feeling his cock slide still deeper inside her. He ground his hips right back at her.

He shrugged. "Ok." He started fucking her, maddeningly slow but very arousing.

"We were hanging out at the lake. Great weather, sort of like today, hot days, warm nights. All of us had graduated, and we'd been hanging out all summer; you might have been in college, or maybe you had started working. I think you were visiting for a birthday or something and you showed up."

He paused long enough to fuck particularly forcefully into her. She noticed that he was getting harder as the told his story. As if he were back there reliving it.

"You were wearing this little bikini. I don't know where you got it, but it was great."

She saw the light in her eyes. "Great top, lots of skin and I think we were all waiting for a nip slip. But the bottom. It was small and tight, and you had those abs, all the way down, so fucking smooth..."

He pushed again, hard as a rock. "You hung out with us for an hour or so, then you left. I don't think I stood up the whole time, because I had a boner." Another couple of deep thrusts. "I think the other girls were pissed because we were all drooling over you. You know, an older woman and all. And that fucking bikini."

He gave her a particularly hard push, and Heather closed her eyes. "Nice fantasy."

Steve shook his head. She was splayed wide open, her feet in the air as he fucked her. He let go of her heels and gripped her hips, pulling her onto his cock. She was light as a feather, and he rotated into her. "That's not it. It was later, when the girls were off getting the weenies ready to cook, that's when the fantasy came out. It was a guys' fantasy."

Heather was getting more and more aroused, not just from having the conversation while Steve was fucking her, but because of what he was saying.

"Ok, I'll bite," she said, her voice surprisingly calm, "- what was the fantasy?"

"See, we were talking about your bod." He paused. "And what we wanted to do to it."

Damn hot, hearing Steve talk about her like this.

He stared at her. "And when I say what 'we' wanted to do with it, I meant together."

Heather frowned. "I don't-"

"At the same time. All of us." He pushed into her again. As if to emphasize his words, he added, "You know, a gangbang."

She blinked. Well, that was pretty raw. And exciting. And damn hot. A question hovered.

"How... many had this conversation?"

He laughed, which made his cock throb in her pussy. "Oh, about eight of us. Sort of got everyone going." He stopped, as if debating, then came to a decision. "What to hell." He shrugged. "We even talked about how we'd do it, who would go first, than kind of thing. Everyone sort of picked what they wanted to do." He reached out and caressed her tits, squeezing almost painfully hard. "Remember Ronnie? He wanted to play with your tits. Most just wanted to fuck you." He laughed. "Then there was Ted. He had this thing for your mouth. So to speak."

"What about you?"

Steve said, "Pretty well doing it now." And with that, he gave a long, hard thrust, all the way inside.

Heather was slick and wet and very aroused. She was turned on that he was turned on, even after all these years. Maybe give him another thrill.

"Too bad you guys didn't make a move."

"You k**ding? We were all intimidated as hell." He gripped her hips and pushed into her again. "Anyway, what good would it have done us?"

She looked at him. How raw did he want it? "I don't know. Back then? I might have." She watched for his reaction when she added, "I had lots of fun in college, and a few more wouldn't have made any difference."

She felt him get harder inside her pussy. "You might have...done us? All of us?"

"Don't know." She squeezed her pussy around his cock. "Maybe."

She said it so casually that he knew it was honest. Which sent him over the top.

He came, pushing all the way inside. He was so deep in her that he felt the end of her pussy, but she gave as good as she got, pushing back at him as he came, seven, eight times before he started to slow down.

At last they both stopped, Steve's cock still buried in her. What she had said still hung in the air, or at least in his mind, and Steve's thoughts tumbled. He was as hard as ever, and he knew why. "Did you ever do more than one guy? You know, back when?" Always a big fantasy with him.

"Couple of times." She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of the cock still in her. "A boyfriend brought over his pal once or twice. And maybe... there was one night I got pretty loaded, and there were a few guys around." She left it at that, although the thought gave her little bump.

The truth was, she wasn't quite sure what had happened that particular night, but she was pretty sure that a handful of guys got what they were after. And what was the difference between 'a handful' and 'a few'? Five guys, ten? More? She didn't really know.

Steve knew it was decision time. He was a good judge of people, and Heather seemed to be in a zone. The thing was, he also detected a little twist in her; she wasn't timid, but under the right circumstances, she didn't mind being lead. And one thing he had learned over the years, you don't get anything by sitting back.

He reached for his phone, tapped into it. Then he said "Ok."

Heather frowned. What was that about? A thought hovered, way back, but then he moved again, pushing into her. This guy didn't lose it very quickly and it was sort of cool the way they were still locked together.

When the knock came, Steve felt her pussy tighten around his cock. And he loved the look on her face; surprised, maybe a little concerned. Despite the circumstances, though, her eyes fluttered in arousal as he slowly pulled out of her.

"In a minute," he said to the door. He turned back to Heather. "Let's get you presentable."

He picked up her dress, and zipped himself. No sense even trying to put on her bra; it was in shreds, and as she slid into her dress, her tits moved back and forth underneath the material. Heather felt Steve's eyes as she buttoned up. His self-confidence was both unsettling and arousing.

"Ok, looks good," he said, that damn charming smile on his face. She looked down. Without a bra holding things together, her cleavage was much more... out there.

Steve stepped to the door and cracked it open. She heard voices, 'looking for you, man', then the door swung open.

Faces, peering inside. Steve pulled the door open and they walked in. It was unsettling, and Heather fought to maintain her composure. She recognized Ronnie and Ted, Steve's buddies she had met earlier. But there were two others, staring, and all of them had that look in their eyes. Suddenly it all came together, the group conversation in the gymnasium, the timing, the back room. Part of Heather was offended, but the other part was almost vibrating with lust.

When the door closed, Steve said, "You remember Ronnie and Ted." He casually d****d his arm over her shoulder. "Guys, you know Heather. We were just catching up on old times." He turned to Heather. "Nick and Colin were at the lake, too."

Ronnie barely heard Steve because he was mesmerized by Heather. He wondered if he was dreaming, because this was so much like a recurring fantasy he had. She was just standing there, looking slightly bewildered, but still right there. He wasn't very experienced, but he knew enough that they had been going at it, probably necking up a storm right here in the equipment room. Her dress was rumpled, and the buttons were undone. He could see the swell of her tits, but then she shifted and he realized... god, he could see one of her tits! She wasn't wearing a bra anymore!

Ronnie had exactly one sex partner in his life, Nancy, who he had married when he was 22. In all that time, he had certainly looked at other women, but right in front of him was someone he had fantasized about since he was in high school. And she had a look on her face, a little bit wild, a little bit raw, like anything could happen.

Heather felt her knees shake. It was so incongruous, chatting away like this when minutes earlier Steve had been shoving his cock into her right where she stood. She was acutely aware that she didn't have any panties on, and even as she stood there, she felt cum on the inside of her thigh.

"One thing lead to another," Steve continued, "- and I told her about the fantasy we had that day at the lake."

Heather saw the reaction on their faces. One grinned, two looked bewildered.

They could all hear the dull thump of bass far off in another part of the school, but here in the storage room there was utter silence. Well, except for heavy breathing.

Never got anything by sitting on your ass, Steve thought. He turned to Heather, gave her a look.

Heather felt their eyes. This was it, wasn't it? Yes, she had had some fun with Steve, but if things were going to stop, now was the time. But it was obvious that they saw her as an object of desire and she couldn't believe how excited she was. She was flattered and aroused and she didn't move a muscle as Steve slowly pulled her dress open.

Ronnie couldn't believe it.

Heather was leaning against the mats, her dress hanging open to the waist. It was just about the sexiest things he had ever seen, because she was right here, in the flesh. She had those loose tits he liked so much, and great nipples. A sudden thought: what would they feel like wrapped around his cock?

As much as that turned him on, so did her expression. Her eyes were shining, and she looked- well, almost hungry.

Heather felt a deep satisfaction. She had seen it earlier in the gym, the looks she got. When she was dolled up, she knew she looked good. More than that: one of her friends had told her that sometimes she had a certain look, a 'fuck me' look. And right now, it was as if there were two of her: the married professional just enjoying a high school reunion, and the woman with a 'fuck me' look standing in front of five guys in an equipment room.

"Heather was saying that we missed an opportunity back then, at the lake. Ronnie, remember what you wanted to do?"

Ronnie looked startled. He looked at Steve, then over at Heather, his eyes wide.

"No."

"Yes you do.'

Fascinating. It was as if they were all teenagers again, and the natural leader in Steve was taking over. He was showing off a bit, and it was a turn-on the way he was directing everything.

His arms shifted, and he casually caressed one of Heather's boobs. "You wanted to play with these puppies. I remember you talking about it."

He didn't have to confirm a thing. The guilt was written all over his face.

"Well?" Steve said. "Now's your chance."

Steve grinned as his friend finally took the hint. He stepped up to Heather, mouth open as he stared at her tits. His hand came out, tentatively, and he touched her boob, but that's all it was, a touch.

Ronnie looked up at Heather, maybe a flash of guilt flashing across her face.

Heather stared right back, and then she felt his hands cup her tits. He squeezed. It was almost clinical, and it turned her on. All of them watched as Ronnie - she vaguely remembered him as a bit of a clown way back when - groped her. God, they all loved tits, didn't they? Well, she loved tits, too, showing them off, having them sucked, even sucking them herself: like most women, she had experimented with friends, and had loved playing with their tits, whether they were big and heavy, or small and dainty.

Despite Ted's clumsiness with her own tits, Heather let out a low moan.

Steve loved the look on her face, excited and maybe a little freaked but still game. Which was a good thing, because Ronnie's grope set the others off and suddenly they were all there, hands sliding onto her tits, squeezing them, pulling them.

She felt so damn sexy.

Two or three hands on each tit, some tweaking her nipples, some squeezing. The only slight dissatisfaction was how almost polite they were being. As her excitement rose, she wanted them to be a bit rougher. As if reading her thoughts, one of them tugged at her nipples, a little hard, pulling her upright. She felt hands on her shoulders, sliding her dress over her arms and down. They kicked it aside, and then she was being lifted - Steve, Mr. Cruise Director - to sit on the edge of the mats.

There was a pause as they all looked at her. Well, not at her, at her body, and it was so fucking arousing. She lay back, propped up on her elbows, and thought 'What to hell.' She slowly spread her legs, until her heels were pointed almost sideways.

When she spoke, there was an excited tremor in her voice. "Well?"

Ronnie stared, open mouthed.

It was so fucking hot, just like some of the porn vids he had seen on-line, but here it was, right in front of him. Not some faceless porn bimbo, but someone he knew, naked and ready, her shaved pussy slick with... well, whatever.

Steve saw the look on her face, and felt himself getting more and more aroused.

Ted stepped up first - well, second - and nestled his cock in her, a stupid grin on his face. Then he pushed into her, balls deep.

It was wet and sordid and Heather fucked back at the cock in her, opening herself as much as she could. Within seconds she felt him thicken up, then he was coming, and it was so arousing that someone else was coming in her ten minutes after Steve. Whoever it was inside her - did it matter?- pulled out, and she wondered how long it would take-

Another cock slid into her, filling her up again, and she almost sighed in relief as she fucked back at it.

Steve watched Colin start to work on her, the third cock in her - so far. And the visuals got even hotter. Colin was a big lad, and when he settled in on top of her, all Steve could see were Heather's legs sticking out to each side, knees bent. Every time he fucked into her, her legs straightened almost sideways onto the mats. When Colin pulled back, Steve caught a glimpse of her face, eyes closed, mouth open, in the 'fuck fog' as he thought of it, when anything goes. Then Colin slid back in, completely covering her except for those legs spread wide open.

Colin started to shake, and Steve stepped back. No sense getting caught in the crossfire, and sure enough, the big guy pulled out and fisted his cock. He shot up along her body, three, four, five times, cum splattering up along her torso. Off to the side, Ronnie stared at Heather's cum-splattered tits, just about the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Heather's heart pounded. She was turned on by the guys, turned on at being the center of attention, turned on by the sex. She was in that zone that was so fucking arousing, willing to do anything, the nastier the better. And there was one nasty she liked more than anything else.

She struggled to her feet. She didn't say a word, just turned and crawled back up onto the mats. She settled onto all-fours, ass hoisted in the air. Utter silence as all five men stared at her, and then she dropped her back and tilted her hips up. Long back, slim waist and flared hips, her pussy slick and dripping and at the perfect height.

As if snapping out of a dream, Nick moved in. He gripped her hips and pulled her onto his cock.

Heather felt the cock slide into her, and couldn't believe how sexed-up she was.

She had once told hubby how much it excited her, someone fucking her like a dog. She loved the humiliation, loved being on her hands and knees in front of a bunch of guys, no limits. And that was it, wasn't it? It could be anyone fucking her, and everyone fucking her, and the nasty Heather wondered how many guys she could take like this, pounding into her pussy one after another.

Her whole body shook as Nick yanked her back and forth onto his cock. He was fucking her so hard that her tits slapped against her torso, and Ronnie's eyes bugged out. He stared as they swung back and forth beneath her. Nick grunted and gripped her hips, then held her in place as he came, Heather's back writhing.

They stayed locked together for half a minute before he slowly pulled out. Heather's pussy gripped his cock in a tight sleeve, then gaped open for several seconds, wet and slimy and dripping cum.

And Ronnie finally moved in. Nothing subtle about it; he just lifted his cock and slid all the way inside her even as she was coming down from her previous orgasm. And nothing subtle about his next move, either: he leaned under to grab her swinging tits.

Which left...

Steve stepped around to the side. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, lost in the sensation of yet another cock sliding in and out of her.

Heather felt something bump her chin. She reacted, in the zone, and a cock slid into her mouth. Whoever it was grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her forward, then the guy in back let go of her boobs and pulled her back onto his cock. Back and forth onto cock at each end, so much like an enduring fantasy, being used by faceless men in any way they wanted. Cum and her own juices oozed out of her pussy, and she was drooling so much that she didn't even bother sucking, just left her mouth open as the guy fucked her face.

They pulled out at the same time, leaving her breathless, unsatisfied. She felt movement, then a cock slid into her pussy, hard, and another into her mouth, making her choke. She tasted her own cunt, and realized they had turned it into a game, alternating between her mouth and pussy.

She went with it, her eyes closed, her whole body rocking back and forth. Hands on her hips, yanking her backwards. Cocks in her mouth: at one point a second cock bumped her cheek even while she was sucking someone, and she stretched her mouth impossibly wide as two cocks slid into her mouth at the same time. She ended up alternating between both cocks as someone shuddered into her pussy in yet another climax. And the whole time, hands were playing with her swinging tits, pulling them, grabbing them, and she loved it all.

Gradually, Steve realized they were done.

It was as if they were all catching their breaths, everyone sitting around, spent. And all of them were still watching Heather.

He marveled at women. Sure, guys thought about it all the time, but once it was done, it was done. Maybe once in awhile, you might give it a second go, but like most guys, once they shot their bolt, that was it. Women were a different story. Heather had spun off into orgasm a few times, but she was still in it. And the way she looked, she could have taken on another five guys.

They had flipped her onto her back again, and she was still deep in her fuck-fog. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily, and she probably had no idea of what she looked like.

When she had walked into the gym earlier, she looked so classy, all dressed up, showing leg, showing cleavage. Now she just looked used, and it was so damn hot. Her legs dangled over the edge of the mats, wide open, heels still on. Her pussy was wet and slippery and the inside of her thighs was slick with cum. Her abdomen and tits were streaked with it. And her face: her lipstick was smeared, her eye shadow was running. There was cum on her chin, and some in her hair. Just about the sexiest thing he had seen in a long time.

Behind him, the door creaked open. Ted paused for a moment, looking back at Heather, then over at Steve. He grinned, shook his head, and then he was gone.

Colin fumbled with his belt, then he and Nick headed out together, looking guilty as hell, but he knew they would remember this for the rest of their lives.

Only Ronnie was left, eyes glittering as he looked at Heather. He stepped up and put his hand on a boob, almost as if he was trying to imprint the sensation in his mind. He squeezed and Heather groaned. He pinched her nipples and lifted her tits, and her groans turned into moans of arousal. He leaned over and slapped her tits, then again. Heather's mouth opened and her eyes fluttered.

Steve smirked: the quiet ones always had their little kinks, didn't they?

Ronnie finally came out of it. He picked up Heather's bra and panties - at least what was left of them - and stuffed them into his pocket. He looked at Steve. "What are you going to do, you dog?"

Steve shrugged, and Ronnie headed for the door and out.

He listened as footsteps faded away. Weirdly erotic now, in this equipment room, the smell of sex heavy in the air. He stood over Heather, then slid his hand up along her legs. He had never been the squeamish type, and his hand slid onto her pussy. Sure, the other guys had been there, but what to hell, and he slipped his fingers inside, turned on that she was so full of cum, turned on that Heather moaned.

He felt a stirring. He had never come three times in a row, but man...

So damn hot, her pussy slick and wet and he bunched his fingers together and pushed them inside, watching her arch her back as he played with her. She had just fucked five guys, and yet here she was reacting to a hand in her pussy and he pushed her even higher, watching her legs spread open, on automatic.

All four fingers in her pussy. He pushed, her pussy lips suctioning around his hand.

"Fuckfuckfuck," she said, and then she was coming, and he actually felt her pussy spasm around his fingers.

He knew that a lot of sex was psychological; the mind was the best sex organ. He had his experiences in life, some of them quite wild, but this was right up there. This wasn't some bimbo experimenting with her sexuality; this was someone who knew what she was doing, and she had just fucked five guys in a back room. Maybe time to leave her with another psychological kink.

He gripped his cock, slid it up and down her pussy, getting it lubed, easy enough considering how much lube there was. He dropped it, then nestled in her ass. He just left it there for a few seconds, letting her get used to the idea. Then he started to push.

Heather felt it, didn't quite know what to say, what to do. Not something she really did, but then again, neither was the last hour. It was slow and insistent and she felt it go deeper.

Steve watched his cock sink into her ass. She hadn't moved a muscle, but he knew she felt it, which turned him on even more. Deep inside her now, and he watched her tits tremble as he fucked into her. He remembered what Ronnie had done, and the cruel streak kicked in again. He gripped her tits and used them to pull her roughly onto his cock. Then back, Heather making the same a****l sounds as before. And when he squeezed her tits, hard, she spun off into another orgasm, her eyes closed, her mouth open.

He waited for his heart to slow down. Pulled out, watching how cum from her pussy oozed out and joined the cum in her ass.

She didn't even move as shuffled to the door. One final look back and he imagined other guys finding her like this, lying there used and open. He shook his head, then slipped through the door and outside.

Heather came out of it slowly, blissed. She felt that wonderful afterglow, and finally she looked up.

She was alone.

That was surprising. She had heard the others leave, but not Steve. She propped herself up on her elbows, looked around. Dead silence inside the equipment room; the only sound was the dull thump from the gymnasium so far away.

She looked down, appalled and aroused at what she saw. She was slick with sweat, and streamers of cum crisscrossed her abdomen. She remembered them playing with her tits, squeezing them, pulling her nipples. She slid a hand onto her boobs, tweaking a nipple, then along her belly to her pussy. So wet, and she was embarrassed and aroused by how full her pussy was.

Heather sat up, and finally her heart slowed to almost normal. She still felt the heat though, in both senses of the word; it was warm in the room, and she was still aroused by the sheer tawdriness of what she had done. But she was here, wasn't she, so it really didn't count.

She stood, looked around for her clothes. Her dress was on the floor, rumpled and creased, and it looked like some of the guys had walked on it. For some reason, it turned her on. The best sex she had was with guys who treated her like a whore.

She couldn't find her bra and panties no matter how hard she looked. She slid into her dress and buttoned up, then walked unsteadily to the door. She cracked it open. No one in sight, because there was no reason for anyone to be in this part of the school, unless they were up to something. Sure.

She crept into the dimly lit hallway, aroused by the feeling off her boobs swinging freely underneath her dress. Saw the door marked Girls, and ducked inside. Only one security light, but enough to check herself in the mirror. Heather knew in an instant that she couldn't go back to the gym. Her hair was messed up, her makeup was ruined. The light caught the wetness between her tits. She felt cheap and slutty and here, away from anyone else, she loved it.

"It's me."

"Uh--huh. Having fun?"

She was in her car, in darkness. Her dress was pulled up, legs bare. She slid her hand onto her slick pussy. So fucking wet.

"Well, had fun." Past tense.

He picked up her tone, as she knew he would. "What -- did you meet up with some old friends?"

"Yes."

"Have a good time?"

"Yes, I did." She paused, knowing it would intrigue him. "And they did,too." She slid two finger inside, started to strum herself. The inside of her thighs was slick and wet.

When hubby spoke, his voice had dropped. "'They'?"

She closed her eyes and thought of the hot, sweaty equipment room. "Yes."

"How many?"

"Five."

There was silence for a few seconds, and then, "All of them?" It was a throaty, aroused whisper.

She strummed herself higher, felt her legs shake, felt the orgasm building. Her fourth, fifth? Tenth? She said, "At the same time." And with that, she came, and she knew he heard it over the phone, her breathing, her arousal, everything.

She gave herself a few seconds before speaking again. "You're not mad at me, are you?" Teasing.

"I want every single detail."

"I thought you might." She would share it all, the dance floor grope, the feverish coupling in the equipment room, Steve's pals using her over and over again.

Maybe not everything. The last little part, the a****l nature of a cock sliding into her ass: maybe she would keep that as a little treat for herself. He didn't have to know everything.