It had been a very long time since I'd seen many of my old high school friends and buddies. The last time had been at the ten year reunion, this would be the thirty year reunion, and I knew that most of us would have changed between now and then dramatically.

Although I was still in reasonably good shape, even without working out specifically, I had still put on a few pounds, but with the exception of a few perhaps, I figured everyone would be in the same boat as I was. I still had a full head of dark hair, though I had noticed just a sprinkle of gray had begun at the temples. The one thing about myself I had always considered my best feature however were my eyes, bright blue with just a hint of gray in them. There was a caption in the yearbook next to my photo, it read: "Bedroom eyes".

Though my wife Marsha hadn't attended the same school I had, nor would know any of my old friends, she was looking forward to going almost as much as I was. And I for one was looking forward to showing her off. Marsha had a great body, though a few years younger than I, and certainly my graduating class, giving her a bit of an edge perhaps in the looks department. Fairly large breasted, a tight waist and firm well rounded ass, I had no doubt she would be the envy of many women there. And though she knew I was secretly entertaining those very thoughts, she was looking forward to going for no other reason than to perhaps meet a few of my old high school girlfriends that I had shared erotic naughty stories about with her over the past few weeks.

And it was one in particular that came to mind, wondering if she would in fact be there, though she hadn't come to the ten year reunion, so it had been at least thirty years since I had even seen Stacy. I had shared the story of our dating experiences with my wife, which had excited Marsha tremendously. Mainly because of the somewhat unusual circumstances, and very erotic nature of my old girlfriend, which was far different than anyone, I had ever known, including now.

The thing about Stacy that was so unusual, was the fact she could climax simply by having her breasts played with. Maybe there were other women who could do this, but I'd never met anyone else, not like Stacy anyway. Even my own wife Marsha, who loved it when I played with her tits, as much as I wanted to in fact, she didn't climax simply from my playing with her the way Stacy did. And not that I minded, certainly not. The fact that Marsha enjoyed as much attention as I gave her in that regard was something I relished, enjoyed and was more than pleased with. Marsha has fairly large breasts with extremely sensitive nipples, though not too sensitive as to detract from the enjoyment of being able to play with them to my heart's content. I've actually known a couple of women who were exact opposites. One girl allowed my fondling of her with indifference. She had even forewarned me before hand that she felt virtually nothing when I, or anyone else for that matter played with her boobs. Basically, she got nothing out of it beyond seeing me becoming aroused myself. Unfortunately, part of my arousal and excitement has always come from seeing the woman become aroused or excited by whatever I was doing. So in this instance at least, it was a bit of a letdown, and thus took away from the pleasure I would normally have received.

On the other side of that same coin, I had also known a woman who's nipples were simply too sensitive. Once aroused, she could hardly stand to have anyone even touch them. Even just looking at them sent her into giggling fits, super sensitivity once again taking away from, rather than adding to the enjoyment and sensuality of that particular form of foreplay. Which was a crying shame too, as Gayle as I recall her name being, had a really nice looking set of tits too. But once she was truly aroused, it was always "hands off", after that.

Now the thing about Stacy was, she didn't have really large breasts either. She was the type of girl that a well-known saying was written for, "More than a (good-sized) handful is wasted!"

I guess if you were to classify her, her breasts would be considered on the small side. Certainly not flat chested, not by any means, and yes, when I held them within my hands, they filled them more than adequately with still a bit left over for good measure. But the thing was, Stacy literally could climax, and very often did, just by my playing with them.

We had started dating, had been going out for well over a month with nothing more than a few deep soulful kisses being shared between us. With her breasts being not quite so large, she very often didn't wear a bra, her pert nipples poking through and pressing against the material of whatever tee shirt or tank top she was wearing. But I always found it interesting that she only did that, going without a bra, whenever it was an activity or an event that virtually made it impossible for me to even think about trying anything. Both times we'd gone to the drive in theatre, she had worn a bra, making it obvious by her suddenly hidden and protected nipples that she was. (I later learned she even went so far as to wear a nipple cover beneath her bra, much like protective pasties, on those evenings when we'd gone out where the temptation might have been too much for either one of us to adhere too.)

Like I said, up until now, I hadn't even touched her, though I also hadn't made any real attempt in doing so either, not wanting her to feel like that was all I wanted from her ... sex. I mean I did, but not purely just for that either. I really liked her. Stacy was the first girl I felt like I could have real feelings for, and because of it, I was content to take my time and see how things went.

It was perhaps our seventh or eighth real date. We had gone to the drive-in movie, which was now becoming a weekly event for us, and something we both looked forward to. As was usually the case, it was a double feature with the movie we really wanted to see coming on second. Some twenty or thirty minutes before intermission, with each of us bored with the first movie already, we'd quite naturally gravitated to kissing and cuddling as we'd been doing every time we came to the drive in, waiting for the second feature to start. And not that I minded that either, Stacy was fun as hell to kiss, and it never failed to get either one of us all hot and bothered, though we very often had to force ourselves to take a break whenever that happened before things got too carried away. Intermission was always great for that it seemed, giving each of us an excuse, though I daresay, it was Stacy who used it as one. I'd have been content to continue on with what we were doing, even with the lights lit up on the blank screen in front of us. Needless to say, I was pretty much expecting that to happen as we sat there necking in the front seat of my car, wondering how much longer we had before the movie finally ended.

Now maybe this was typical of the times back then, perhaps many can relate to this. But there was a sort of a non-spoken game that I think was quite often played in the front seat of every car with a pair of young kids in it. Whether it be at a drive-in, or parked on some lover's lane some place, or even on the couch in the den at her parent's house. We all played it, and we all went home with smiles on our faces afterwards if we (in our minds) made any sort of progress since the last time we played it.

I think the unofficial name of the game was, "How close did you come?" And not meaning "cum" per say ... but how close did you get to actually touching her tits?" I know for a good many of my friends, it was very often the topic of conversation come Monday afternoon during gym class. "How far did you get? What happened? What did you do to get that far?" We all shared ... techniques that seemed to work, more importantly, the attempts that failed so that no one else would make the same mistakes.

I was in fact at that very moment running through my own mind the advice one of my closest buds had given me that past Monday afternoon. He was the first amongst us to actually succeed in the titty-department, now a God as far as the rest of us were concerned, and now armed with invaluable information, though I was scared to death to actually try it. As was most everyone else I could only guess.

"Just touch it!" He's said simply. Could it honestly be that easy? I mean you didn't just get in the car, reach over and grab her boob, certainly not. But ... once the real kissing had gotten started and had been going on for a while, and then it was time to try that. "No tentative, creeping up on it," he'd informed us. Which some few of us had tried, and had failed at. It gave the girls far too much advanced warning as we soon after learned. Allowing them too much time to think about it before it happened, most then chickening out, or deciding in that brief moment it was either far too soon for that, or they simply weren't ready for it even if it wasn't. According to Jim "The God" of booby fondling, you simply lifted your hand and placed it directly over your girlfriends boob, and then softly caressed it. With luck, she let you keep your hand there for a few seconds at the very least. And even if she eventually did decide to make you move it off her, you had still gotten to "cop a feel of her tit," as we called it. And that was better than running your fingers off to the side, never quite actually touching it, before being told "No ... don't," or feeling her hand moving yours away.

A little booby was better than no booby. And so far, I was still on the "no booby at all" side of things.

Our kissing had finally reached the tongue fencing stage, which never failed to arouse the two of us, but it was also the first sign that we'd be taking a much needed (not wanted)break soon, especially with the music informing the two of us that the first movie was coming to an end. It was now or never the way I saw it. And in the next instant, my hand was resting directly on her breast, through her tee shirt of course, but on her breast! I think that moment surprised both of us for a number of reasons. She wasn't expecting it for one, but she didn't haul off and deck me either. Only seconds had passed, but my hand remained as I kneaded the softness of her breast like a contented cat. For me at least, it felt like an eternity, and I was already rehearsing my speech for the guys come Monday when I felt Stacy's hand suddenly covering mine.

"Damn!" I thought to myself. "Here it comes, the gentle, but firm pull away. The unspoken "No," though the barrier had been crossed, even if the barriers were about to be put up again. Still ... I'd actually touched titty, real titty. So even if it was a two or perhaps three second fondling, I'd finally achieved the penultimate in front seat groping with one's girlfriend.

What I didn't expect, was when her hand remained on mine, and my hand remained on her tit, the sound of my name being sung ever so softly as I sat there. "Oh ... David!"

Even with her bra on, I now felt the sudden emergence of her hard extended little nipple. But even more surprisingly, her gasp, the audible sigh of pleasure that escaped her lips in a long drawn out pleasured sound, unlike any I had ever heard before. But that nipple! Oh my god, that nipple! I swear it had burned an impression within the palm of my hand, half tempted to check, though fearful of doing so, which would mean taking my hand away. Something I didn't dare do, as I was already well into the twenty or thirty second mark of booby fondling, which I felt had to be some sort of a new worlds record at the very least for first time tit fondlers.

The second the lights came on, on the screen just a few rows in front of us, Stacy suddenly took my hand and gently moved it off and away from her. Even though she did, I was floating on cloud nine, not even aware of the massive erection in my pants, the short-circuiting of my own arousal not as yet registering in my head as Stacy slid over a few inches, putting distance between us.

"I'll be right back," she said reaching for the door. "Get us some popcorn, and something to drink," she then added smiling at me. Which was a big relief in a way, I'd gotten to finally fondle her boob, and she wasn't mad at me for doing it either!

I sat for several long moment's willing my dick to go down, watching as several single girls all seemed to pile out of their cars one by one, heading back towards the restrooms. It was obvious I wasn't the only guy waiting patiently for his erection to go down before making their way inside the refreshment stand either. When it had gone down to sufficiently allow me to go inside, though wickedly smiling to myself that perhaps there would still be enough of a noticeable bulge showing without being obscene, and thus serving an entirely different purpose, I climbed out of the car and went inside to grab our drinks and the popcorn. In doing so, I also scanned the crowd to see if there were any of my buddies there. If there were, then sharing secret signals on how well we'd done. Unfortunately, there was no one there I hung out with, so my achievement would have to wait until the following Monday.

I was still relieving the experience second by second, running it over and over again inside my head when Stacy returned to the car. I handed her, her drink, and sat the bucket of popcorn on the seat between us. As I did so, I happened to glance over and saw that her nipples, both of them were still pressing even more firmly, more obviously than I ever remembered seeing them before against the material of her shirt. And then I knew why ... Stacy had removed her bra entirely!

Minutes later as the lights came down again, and the second feature started, Stacy and I came together like a pair of magnets. I remember the tub of popcorn being knocked over, spilling onto the floor of my freshly cleaned and vacuumed carpeting. I could have cared less. And like magnets, my hand, or rather both of them actually, found each of Stacy's breasts, (braless breasts mind you) simultaneously. Now I was touching both boobs (well sort of anyway) but the fact she was no longer wearing a bra, essentially giving me the so called "green light", once again a never-before reached level of achievement, (not even by John the God himself). I think every hair on my entire body was standing on end. Goose bumps galore racing up and down my entire body, along with my rock-hard prick, that was now almost painfully uncomfortable as I sat half twisted in my seat, both hands caressing Stacy's soft full breasts. But the best was yet to come.

I had within a short span of time, graduated from booby fondling, to nipple pinching. It was like graduating from high school early, and going on to college. The fact I was actually thumbing and exploring those hard little nubbins of flesh (even if it was still through her thin tee shirt) was well beyond my wildest imaginings. (Well ok ... maybe that's going a little too far), but ... it was certainly more than I'd expected to happen during the course of the evening.

Once again, she placed her hands over both of mine, and then I thought, "Ok, so now she's bringing things to a screeching halt," perfectly content with that if she had. Already I had blown the roof off anything any of the other guys had achieved, including John, who in my mind no longer warranted "God status", a title I couldn't claim myself either as it had to be given you by the others. But already I was imagining the official ceremony taking place come Monday.

With Stacy's hands now covering mine, I felt her lift them, still holding mine, almost pulling away, though she held each of mine in hers tighter still. In the next instant, I felt the touch of skin on skin, her hands now guiding each of mine beneath her tee shirt! I seriously couldn't believe this was happening. Within seconds, I now had twin impressions permanently burned within the palms of each hand as I now covered those extended nipples of hers directly, palming and again kneading them at first, before delicately locating each within my finger tips. Once again Stacy moaned, her cry of pleasure easily heard as the couple sitting in the car next to us suddenly looked over. I felt prouder than hell as I saw the guy suddenly smile giving me the thumbs up. I'd seen him around at school, though I didn't know him. But I also knew now that the story would spread, giving confirmation to my coronation come Monday.

I lost all sense of my surroundings along with my newfound status when I heard Stacy say, "suck them."

Everything else became a blur after that. As my mouth actually surrounded one of her hard little points, gathering it between my lips as I gently suckled her breast, three things seemed to happen at once. One, I came in my pants. It was quite unexpected and unplanned for. And though embarrassed that I had, I still had the secret advantage of her not knowing that. Secondly, it did at least alleviate the ever growing pressure I was feeling, and three, it made it a hell of a lot more comfortable to sit there, even if I could feel the sticky moisture of my climax bathing my rapidly deflating prick. Which surprisingly, didn't stay that way for as nearly long as I might have expected.

The only thing that really mattered now, was the fact I was going back and forth between each one of her breasts, sucking them, flicking them with my tongue, while my fingers played follow the leader on her other breast. It was only a few moments later when Stacy did the one thing I would never have expected her to do in a million, trillion years. She came.

My orgasm had been a silent, secret, though messy one. I think I may have grimaced with my lips surrounding her nipple, but that was about as much as I gave away. Stacy on the other hand, simply cried out, unabashedly, unashamedly, and uninhibitedly. I wish now I had looked over to our companions sitting on either side of us, I'd loved to have seen the expression on their faces then, but I was simply too busy still sucking and fondling Stacy's breasts to bother looking, tempted as I may have been.

Now, as stupid as this may sound, (and probably does) I still didn't know, or grasp the fact she'd just had an orgasm. I wasn't so naive as to believe girls didn't ... however, the mechanics I knew involved other things needing to take place before that could be achieved. And unless she'd been secretly fondling herself in some way that I wasn't aware of, her cry of pleasure simply signaled to me that she was enjoying whatever the hell it was I was doing. So imagine my surprise when Stacy finally pushed me away. Talk about confused. One second I'm thinking she's hotter than she's ever been, certainly hotter than any girl I've ever known or been with, and the next second, she's calling a sudden screeching halt to the proceedings.

"Maybe you'd better take me home," she says quietly, readjusting herself and sliding over closer to her own door, the crunch of popcorn beneath her feet as she does so. I knew better than to question her, or complain about the fact the movie we'd come to see wasn't even half over yet, though for the moment at least, I'd forgotten which one it was. I quickly, and carefully replaced the speaker back on the pole outside the window, started the car, much to the dismay of our neighbors, and then with lights off, backed out and exited the drive in theatre.

I don't know if the handful of honks from nearby cars were in tribute, or annoyance as we drove out, I didn't really think about it at the time. It was Stacy's sudden silence that worried me far more.

She lived less than twenty minutes away, but I purposely drove well below the posted speed-limit. What was worrying me now, was we were headed back to her place, a good hour or more earlier than normal. Something that would no doubt raise suspicious questions from her parents upon our arrival. And like I said earlier, I was still confused, very much so, and did the only thing I could think of to do under the circumstances. I apologized.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at me like I'd just turned inside out. "What the hell for?" She asked.

"I don't know," I said honestly, even more confused now than before. "I just am."

"You're sorry for making me cum?"

I know there were words in my mouth, they wanted to come out, but for some reason, I couldn't make any sense of them or arrange them in the proper order. "I didn't, you ah ... you, I mean, you ah..." Luckily for me, she kept talking, effectively shutting me up.

"I'm the one that should be sorry," she continued on before I could make any sense of what was happening here. "I should have warned you," she then added. "But I couldn't help myself."

I purposely turned down the wrong street, taking the long way around. By the expression on her face, she actually appreciated the fact that I had. I knew then we were both stalling for time, and I wasn't about to pull up in front of her house until I'd at least made some sense of whatever the hell it was we were talking about here.

"Warned me about what?" I asked honestly finally finding the correct words to say, though the look in her eyes told me she wasn't quite buying my naiveté.

"That I can climax simply by having my boobs played with, even when I do it," she told me. She looked up, "The lights green," she said..."Not red." I had stopped the car at the light, not even bothering to notice what color it was when I did. It was red when I started up again, going through the intersection. Luckily it was just late enough that there were few cars on the road, luckier still there weren't any cops around to witness my stupidity. But thankfully, Stacy laughed, snickering at my obvious confusion, breaking the tension in the air. "Does that ... shock you?" she then asked.

"Shock me? No. Surprise me? Yes." I answered her truthfully. Then asking, "So ... you really do? Cum I mean, just by playing with your breasts?"

"Yes," she said softly, obviously embarrassed by the revelation, though I found her courageous in her acknowledgement of that. And perhaps her courage, boldness, and openness gave me courage as I pursued this interesting conversation we were suddenly having.

"So ... do you, I mean, if you can ... ah, you know, do you still..."

"Masturbate?" she finished for me. So much for my own courage. "Yes I do that too, don't you?"

"Well yeah sure," I freely admitted, glad my voice didn't go up an octave or two when answering her. "Sure ... yeah ... of course." She smiled at that.

"Ditto," she said quickly. "But ... I don't have to always do that to have an orgasm either," she now confessed. "I can actually get off, just by playing with my tits."

I mean she had, or at least I had seen it first hand, even then I still asked. "Seriously ... you really do?"

"You saw it ... felt it, heard it," she exclaimed growing more and more agitated by the second. "Like I said, I can't help it ... it just happens. Maybe I shouldn't have let you do what you did, but ... I couldn't help myself David. It would have been no different if I'd been sitting there jacking you off, and then at the last moment taking my hand away, letting you just hang there. When I placed your hands directly on my tits, I knew damn good and well what was going to happen."

I thought briefly about telling her I'd come in my pants, perhaps by way of easing her personal discomfort, sharing something of an equally embarrassing nature with her. Quite naturally, I decided against it.

I'm glad you did," I told her, just as we turned onto her street. "I think that's hot as hell ... I then told her."

"You do? That doesn't freak or weird you out knowing that? Because the truth is David, I like doing it. I like the way I feel, the way my orgasms feel just by having my breasts played with. And to be perfectly honest ... it felt far more enjoyable when you did it than when I do it myself!" she now added.

We were approaching her house, I had slowed the car down to a crawl ... hoping.

"Pull over!" she suddenly exclaimed, and I did so, cutting the lights off as I did, basically coasting up next to the curb, engine off. We'd stopped two houses up the street from where she lived, the tall hedgerow next to her driveway effectively cutting off anyone's being able to see us parked there. Luckily, in addition to that, the lights were off in each of the two houses we were parked in front of. The house next to Stacy's currently vacant, and the other lived in by an older woman who retired early as she quickly informed me. In a flash, she had lifted her tee shirt once again, her beautiful bare breasts a feast for my eyes, nipples once again hard and extended. Even before I could reach for them, her hand was already fumbling with the belt on my jeans.

"Ah Stacy? There's something I should tell you," I began nervously.

"I already know," she giggled. "That sort of triggered it when I did," she then added laughing. "So the question is ... can you do it again?"

"Can you?" I answered back. And then we both proved to one another that we could.

That night was only the beginning of one of the wildest periods in my entire life. Something that lasted well on into the summer after we had graduated just a few short weeks later. The only downside to anything, was the following Monday when I had quite stupidly boasted of my miraculous success. Had I left it at actually touching bare tit, there would have been feasting and celebration ... for days perhaps. Instead, I was looked upon as being a liar, exaggerating and at best, trying to one up my status in trying to claim John's throne, by claiming something that was totally unheard of, exaggerated, and totally unbelievable. And even dumber now having shared it, it was a newfound status, or an attempted one rather, I no longer wanted. In hindsight, I was glad no one believed my story, though I was now fearful that my telling it would get back to Stacy, and thus end what was to become one of the wildest periods of my entire life. Thankfully ... it didn't. Not yet anyway. That wouldn't happen for some time yet, though when it did, my earlier stupidity came back to haunt me.

But until that actually happened...

Lying there in bed, the feel of my wife's mouth and tongue as she teasingly pleasured me was erotic enough. Marsha could suck cock like nobody's business, and she was driving me nuts just as she knew she could. But what I also enjoyed was the fact she got aroused, turned on whenever I shared any experiences, any stories with her, just as she was now. And just as she so often did for me too.

"So what happened after that night?" She then asked. I was having trouble concentrating, but then I drifted back in time ... remembering.

"It was that very next Monday, after school, and after I had taken a beating from my friends, though not in the literal sense. Stacy was on the prom committee, and they were meeting a short time later after school planning and preparing for our graduating dance. We'd previously agreed to meet at Johnson & Johnson's," I told her. I saw the confused look on my wife's face as I said that, knowing I'd have to explain, which I then did.

"As in the baby oil?" she asked questioningly, as I knew she would. I laughed, shaking my head no.

"No, we called it that because of two very popular teachers at the school a year back prior to all this. When the school was originally built, someone fucked up on the dimensions, when they built the wall between the auditorium and the gym, they didn't quite come together the way it had been planned for. What they ended up with was a little hall that led nowhere, a three and a half foot dead end. An alcove that later on they planted a tall fake tree in, though someone kept moving it. It became a running joke as to where the tree would end up, leaving that weird little alcove vacant. In the beginning, it was a place to go and steal a quick kiss with your girlfriend, it wasn't long before it became a status symbol for anyone who did."

"Ok," Marsha said following along, "But where does the Johnson and Johnson come in?" she then asked.

"Someone caught Mrs. Johnson, and Mr. Johnson kissing one another in that alcove.

"So? What's wrong with two obviously married teachers having a little fun, simply kissing one another?"

"Nothing ... except they were both married to different Johnson's at the time," I told her.

"Oh!" My wife laughed. "Now I see!"

"Over time, the story went from someone catching them kissing, to someone catching them touching, to finally ... someone catching them actually fucking. Eventually they were both called in. Denied any of that ever happened of course, but sadly ... they were both let go the following year. Ever since then, that alcove that then had a permanently chained tree sitting inside it, was known as Johnson and Johnson corner," which is where Stacy and I had agreed to meet after school. Now ... the other thing about that was, the school had quite stupidly created the perfect place, the perfect camouflage to hide what now really began to happen there. Bushy enough, and big enough to hide someone's presence, it was no obstacle to slip around the tree and hide in back of it without being seen. So ironically, the very rumor that had caused the expulsion of the two teachers, now became even more symbolic, and more of a challenge to become a rapidly growing member of a very secretive club. Stacy wanted us to meet there, become members before we graduated. So we decided to meet there quickly before her committee meeting.