May by Simon (Simon@jazzandjava.com) Did you go to your high school reunion? I just had my first recently, the ten-year. I'd never expected to go -- it sounded like a stupid idea, when I was actually in high school -- but as it turned out, I was more curious about where people had ended up than I'd expected -- and it was a good excuse to see May. May was my high school crush -- well, one of them, but the only one who was more than just a lust object. the other "crushes," I didn't even really know them -- just admired them from the other side of the classroom, or passing by in the hallway. May, though, I actually knew. She'd moved to town partway through high school, when she moved back in with her mother after living with her father for a few years -- we had History together, and Art, and were lab partners the following year in Bio. She was cool, you know? Hot, yes -- with dark, ink-black hair down past her ass, and these big amazing eyes the color of acid-washed jeans -- but cool, too. We hung out a little. I would've asked her out -- hell, any of the guys I knew would have -- except for one thing. May had a fiancee. Some guy we never saw, who lived in the same town as her father, some guy she was planning to marry when she graduated. Now, sure, you and I know that long-distance high school romances don't mean shit, but at the time, I respected it. She was engaged, so I didn't ask her out. Someone else did. After I'd graduated, it turned out a buddy of mine asked May out, and they were that couple who ended up married right after high school, for all of two and a half months. I didn't hear about it until years later, when I got back in touch with May. Some girl I didn't even really remember had put us both on an alumni mailing list, and when May and I saw each other's email addresses, we caught up over a few weeks. It took a bit to get over that novelty of how we'd both changed, but hey, ten years, you have to expect that. We rehashed high school, exchanged what gossip we had about other people, and confessed our mutual crushes, followed by our immediate "shit, I wish I'd known at the time." So it goes, right? We started flirting, the usual kind of thing, the way we would have in high school if we'd known to -- and it escalated from there to a little R-rated email while we were bored at work, and a phone call which veered very close to phonesex but didn't quite make the leap. When she asked me if I was going to the reunion, I said yes right away, although until that point I hadn't planned to. Neither of us brought it up again for a few months. We talked about the usual day to day stuff, while the organizers of the reunion went on about whether to hold it at the country club or the hotel ballroom where prom had been. Then, about a week before my trip back home, she hit me with, "So, do you have a date for the reunion?" "Ehh, no. I mean, you know, Sammi and I broke up a year ago. I haven't been seeing anyone, not seriously." "Kinda thought you might ask me." Now, May had a boyfriend. I still wasn't sure how serious it was -- but a boyfriend was a boyfriend. "John's not going?" "Nah. John didn't go to high school with us, after all. Besides, he has some stuff at work he can't miss. I told him I'd go by myself." "Maybe ... we could go together, then." "Are you asking?" "I'm asking." "Then I'm saying yes." We made our arrangements -- I wanted to see my folks while I was in town, and was going a few days early, she was leaving the night before, so we decided just to meet there. The committee had decided on the country club, after much debate. I've never liked formal things, and it seemed a silly thing to dress up for, so amidst the rented tuxedos of car salesmen and Brooks Brothers suits of tax attorneys, there I was in plain old blue jeans and a black shirt. What the hell, it was good enough. The country club had changed a lot -- my parents were members, but I hadn't seen it in years. The clay tennis courts had been paved, and everything had been repainted from that mid-80s teal and aquamarine to a more contemporary burgundy and dark blue. I'm sure it'll be something else at the 20th reunion. I dicked around the ballroom for awhile, saying hi to Marc-who'd-become-a-state-rep and Tom-who'd-just-gotten- divorced-and-wouldn't-shut-up-about-it and Christie-who'd- taken-a-job-at-her-father's-firm. It got very boring, very fast. Sure, there was that novelty value of finding out what people had been up to, but let's face it -- 10 years later, the people you went to high school with are people you don't know. Ahhh, but then it paid off. I recognized her right away. Her hair had become fuller, shinier, and was cut differently (don't ask me to explain how: I'm a guy); her figure had filled out a bit; and I'd swear her legs were longer. But she still had those big blue eyes, which I'd know anywhere. I had a moment to look at them, before she turned, found me, and smiled. She was a little more dressed up than I was -- a tight black dress of some kind of soft material, accentuating her long neck and legs, ending a few inches over the knees. I finished my conversation with Bill-who-was-working-on- his-PhD, and hurried across the room to give May a hug. She hugged me tightly, her dress soft like velvet against my fingertips, and it might have been my imagination, but I thought I felt her breasts arch against me, just for a moment. She was soft, and firm, and warm, and I don't know what perfume she was wearing, but I loved it, the smell of it mixing in with that of hotel shampoo in her hair. "Hey," she said, squeezing my hand and staying close enough for me to feel her warmth as she let go. I grinned. "Hey yourself. Bout time you showed up. This place is pretty lame." "Doesn't sound like much has changed, then." But we made the rounds, individually and together, and munched on the buffet some. Mostly I was looking at her, getting used to seeing her ten years older, and I think she was doing the same with me. I was definitely getting a vibe, but I wanted to wait ... you know? Make sure it was really there, that it wasn't something I was reading in, or something based just on her remembering our unspoken mutual crush. The party drifted a bit -- the country club was closed for the night, but no one stopped us from wandering the halls, and we shared some laughs with a couple we'd been friendly with in school, remembering how at prom, Mickey and Angel had been caught having sex in the pool by one of the chaperones. No one could agree on who had caught them -- Mr Chambers, the young math teacher, or Miss Jones, the spinster history teacher. The other couple drifted back to the ballroom after awhile, and May gave me a sidelong look. "Think they locked up the pool?" My heart skipped a beat, and I took her hand, leading her down the hallway to the smell of chlorine. "Remember your swimsuit?" I asked, as I tried the door. It wasn't locked, no, and after a little fiddling I found a lightswitch -- the one that illuminated only the lights in the heated pool, casting a blue-green light up at the strangely empty room. She just gave me this look, one I hadn't seen on that face before, reinforcing that sense of the new overlaid on the familiar, and walked to the pool's edge, the shallow end with the steps leading in, and started to unzip her dress. She stepped out of it, leaving her in adorably plain pink panties and bra, and started to walk down the stairs into the water, without waiting to see if I'd follow. I did, of course, although it struck me for a moment that even with just the light from the pool, that was plenty for anyone walking by to see us. Well, so it went, I'd take the risk. Wasn't like there was a chaperone this time. I stripped down to my boxers, and by the time I was on the first step, she'd taken the last, in up to her thighs in the water, her panties still dry, but the water sloshing up gently and almost touching them. The water was warm, shower-warm, and the underlighting cast wavery watershadows across her pale skin as she turned around, walking slowly backwards into the water as I came nearer. With that dark black hair, those spectrally big blue eyes, and the light making her seem even paler than she was naturally, she looked like a ghost, a siren beckoning me into the deep. The water wavered between us as I followed her wake, warmth enveloping me up to the hips before she grinned, crooked a finger, and then dove backwards, disappearing into the low-lit pool. For a moment all I saw was the ink-black hair, pooling up to the surface before being yanked down by her dive. I dove in head first, following her across the Olympic- size pool. It had been years since I had done any real swimming, but her legs were long, strong, and practiced. After a moment I caught a glimpse of them, scissoring back and forth deep beneath the surface, her panties shining pink against her tight ass as it flexed in front of me -- and then I had to rise for air, and when I came back down, she was gone. Nowhere to be seen. I was most of the way across the pool when I felt a leg brush against mine, and then bubbles laughed up as she pushed me down towards the bottom, her legs kicking back and forth far above me and then propelling her off the edge of the pool before I could catch up. She kept playing with me like that for awhile: I'd feel her breasts pressing into my back before she slid off me, letting them follow the line of my spine -- or her hands would stroke my ass and thighs -- or her hair would balloon up against my chest, her lips brushing over my skin -- before she drifted away and swam off faster than I could catch -- but we were slowly moving towards the far end of the pool, where she had less room to run away. And that's how I captured her -- she swam between my legs, shoulders pushing against my thighs, and I squeezed my legs together and up, bringing her up to the surface and against the corner of the pool, as I grabbed the polished- stone side and kissed her hard, pressing her against the wall. She kissed back like she'd been hungering for it for years, and I guess we both had -- for a long while, God knows how long, all I was aware of was tongue and lips and teeth, every combination thereof. It was more than kissing, it was hunger, greed, lust, power, combat, courtship. We didn't even touch except at the mouth, but we didn't need to, not yet. For that moment, having her tongue in my mouth, having my lips and teeth around it, was like having her, every inch of her. Her hair had fallen in thick scattered locks around both of us, and my shoulders were nearly dry, when we finally stopped for breath, and the wavering greenblue light reflected back from her eyes as she pushed me back away from the wall, locking her legs around mine as she tugged my boxers down. Her panties came off easily as my hands slid over her ass, and we drifted as we undressed each other, letting our clothes float behind us, rubbing wetly skin-to-skin. Her nipples were darker than I'd pictured them, or maybe only seemed it against the paleness of her skin, with areolae my thumb would barely cover, and her pubic hair was a small dark patch between her legs, slick with poolwater. We swam against each other, and she grabbed the edge of the diving board as her legs wrapped around me, her pussy slicking along the length of my cock as I shuddered, steadying my bobbing body with hands on her hips and feet pressing against the edge of the pool. Her big eyes still looked hungry, needy, as we guided ourselves together, water splashing as I pulled myself up against her and she pushed down, my cock sliding easily into her first inch, muscles tightening around me for the rest of her depths. Her thighs tensed, half in and half out of the water, as she arched her back, hands behind her clutching the diving board, and we started to rock together in a liquid rhythm. I licked the taste of chlorine from her, working my mouth down slowly and erratically from her neck and collarbone to her breasts, letting water trickle from her hair over her nipples before I lapped it up, my lower teeth grazing against the underside of her areolae before sucking the skin around it into my mouth, massaging it with my tongue, suckling hard as she gasped, freeing a hand to clutch at the back of my neck, pressing me against her. I bit all around her soft breasts, leaving purplish crescents behind, her moaning growing louder every time I bit, my nails digging in to her hips, raking down below the surface to her ass and feeling the muscles work there as she clenched me inside her, the water splashing between us as I straightened my legs with every thrust, struggling to push deep. May's hand slid off the diving board suddenly, as I bite a hard circle around her nipple and tugged it between my teeth, and we bobbed under the water, her hair swirling around me, both of us kicking our feet hard against the edge and just gliding, drifting across the pool as we wrapped our bodies around each other, mouths all over the other's skin, hands roaming and clutching and squeezing, hips colliding as we rolled over and over. Minutes later, I felt my knee brush against the bottom as we reached the shallow end, and I pushed her down against it, her back pressed to the stairs and keeping her head above water as I planted my knees down, grabbed the stair rail, and pulled myself forward with a solid jerk. She grunted, biting my ear hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood as I shoved her with my hips, my cock sinking deeply and easily into her as her ass ground against the stairs and her legs wrapped around me, ankles crossed to squeeze me. The water churned around us, splashing out of the pool as we worked against each other, grinding and twisting, not caring about the abrasions we were getting from the rough pool bottom against our skin or the sting of the chlorine. I felt myself start to throb, and her eyes widened as she pulled her mouth from my neck, shaking her head. She'd been biting hard -- I could feel the sharp sting as the chlorinated water splashed up at the red she'd left behind. "Not inside me," she murmured, her voice as quiet as the sloshing of the water, and she pushed her hands down on the stair, "Not there." She slinked away from me, chest heaving and sighing as she drew me out of her, and then turned me around until I was sitting on a middle step. May's hair pooled up again, over my lap, as she sank into the water and took my cock between her lips, bubbles tickling against the shaft before she began bobbing fiercely up and down, determined to get me off before she ran out of breath. I grunted in surprise -- have you ever been sucked off underwater? It's almost not recognizable as a blowjob, it's something altogether different -- and ran my fingers through her hair and down her back, clasping her to me, trying to remember to prepare to let her up if she started to suffocate. Her tongue worked me over with the same vicious, eager hunger with which we'd kissed, rubbing and swirling and stroking from the base to the head, as she used every inch of her mouth: lips crinkled a tight seal around me, cheeks stroked the sides of my shaft, teeth grazed the edges, and the opening of her throat accepted the bulbous head before tightening around it, milking me as she jerked her head quickly back and forth, moaning with a mouth full of me, until at last -- it must have been less than a minute -- I came, arching my back until I nearly hit my head on the poolside, pushing my hips up to lift her out of the water, feeling her swallow around me, gulp me down, tighten her lips to force out every drop. My cock was still twitching when I grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her roughly down on the next-to-top step, and kicked my legs out from under me to bring me quickly down to her level, my face burying itself between her spreading thighs. The water came just barely up to her pussy, splashing upwards against my face and her crotch as I ate her out, rubbing her clit with my thumb and the flat of my tongue, delving her insides, letting her taste overpower the chlorine. It took longer for her to come, but I didn't mind: I could breathe, and took my time, bringing her right to the edge and then practically stopping, as I pulled her forward just enough to tease her asshole with my middle finger, my lips pressed to her clit but motionless except for the occasional tongue flicker. She groaned and twisted her hands in my hair, grinding against my face, and I relented, opening my mouth and sucking her clit tightly between my lips as my finger sank into her, her muscles tensing in surprise before relaxing and taking it. I could feel her wet thighs quivering against my cheeks and pressed her into the water, rubbing her clit with my lips and the tip of my tongue, until even my submerged ears could hear her moans piercing the empty room. We lay there for I don't know how long before we realized, in unison, that we weren't alone -- that the low sounds we heard weren't the distant party, or the water against the edge. Mickey and Angel and five or six of their friends had seen the light, and had had the sense to stay quiet enough that we didn't notice them until enough blood came back to our brains to wake us up from our distraction from each other -- -- something they still talked about at the twentieth reunion. It wasn't the last time I saw May, but that's a story for another time.