Junk mail, junk mail, Visa bill, junk mail. It wasn't even worth going to the mailbox anymore. Hayley tossed the credit card bill on her desk and was about to throw the junk mail in the trash when she saw an envelope mixed in with a folded coupon flyer. She didn't know the person listed on the return address, but went ahead and opened it since it wasn't mass mailed.

Hmmm. Well, it was certainly unexpected. Her 20 year class reunion. 20? That long ago? She wasn't particularly fond of her high school years. As a matter of fact, she had skipped her 10 year reunion without giving it a second thought.

Having transferred into her high school in the 10th grade, she didn't know most of the people in her classes, and she had soon latched on to a boyfriend, Jon, that lasted through graduation into her college years. And while she had been enamored at the time, she realized in her senior year that she had missed out on a lot of activities. And while Jon and sex became her whole world at the age of 16, she had only liked the guy, although on some days she thought she had loved him. She had traded dating others for security, and she had regretted that decision ever since she was old enough to look back on her "high school years."

There had been other guys who were cuter, and some that she would have been interested in had she been unattached. Only, it was comfortable with Jon. They got along well, he entertained her, and they had fun together. And the sex had been great, or, at least as good as it could get in a car. It wasn't until college, when their relationship became a long distance romance, that she discovered how much larger a cock could get, and, for that matter, how much more fun a guy could be. And while she kept Jon on the string as she dated other guys, she turned him loose upon falling in love with Steven, her husband now of 14 years.

So why was she interested in this reunion? She didn't know. Her "ex" wouldn't even be there. Jon had been a year ahead of her. Who would she know? The reunion was a month away, at Zappa's, an adult arcade she had been to before. There was a bar and restaurant, video games, billiards, several types of video gambling games, a dinner mystery-theater, and, she recalled, several small conference rooms, and a banquet room. It would be fun to go. She wouldn't give Steven a choice about it. He would probably know as many people as she did...none.

Over the next month, she worked on her tan, being careful not to burn herself or freckle too much. At 38, she looked pretty good. She had recently cut her hair shorter, giving her an "artsy" look. She wore glasses most of the time now, but gray hair wasn't showing up yet, and her figure remained...thirtyish. A few extra pounds, but considering two kids and the available time for exercise, she looked pretty darn good, better than almost all the other moms she saw at the Elementary School.

Her breasts remained 38", but gravity was beginning to have its way. Her stomach was a tad pronounced, but not more so than most women who had had children. And, she could compete with about anybody with her legs and hips, which were in great shape. While the mirror couldn't help but remind her that she was aging, her husband had recently given her self-confidence a boost, although in an unexpected way.

Steven loved to write stories, of an "adult" nature, and he posted them on a website. There had been over 30,000 visitors to his site, and, although he had only received maybe 50 comments from readers, he had eagerly shared them with her. The letters were often quite a turn-on in that there were people "out there" who were getting turned on to stories modeled in many ways about her. But that wasn't the boost she needed.

Ever since they had purchased their digital camera a few months earlier, she had been his favorite subject as he got used to downloading pictures to the computer, trying some limited photo editing, and archiving them. She had pretty well let him have his way with her, and, besides, if he was going to jerk off to pictures of a naked woman, it damn well better be her! She would never admit to him that it was a little fun for her, too.

Steven had walked her to the computer screen which displayed his website, and he had her click on the link that said "click here for a glimpse of Hayley." Her first reaction had been to fear the worst, the picture with him cumming on her face. Surely he wouldn't put her face on the web! When the screen loaded (www.asstr.org/~IdleHand/Contents/Hayley.html), her first reaction was relief, quickly flowering into anger as she realized that he was showing her breasts to the world. But they did look...good. Her breasts looked good! It was a negative image, likely altered in some other way, that made her breasts appear artistic rather than just...exhibited. He had cropped the picture nicely. There was no clue as to whose breasts these were. People would probably assume Hayley was a fictional name.

Steven then showed her the e-mails he had received. There had only been several hundred "hits" so far, but there were already about 25 e-mails he had collected, a much better ratio than his stories got. She, Hayley, housewife and mother of two, had a fan club of sorts. Men liked the look of her breasts, and the pleasure she took from that gave her self-confidence about her whole body. Let them look.

It was quite a change from reading about others' thoughts on what Steven imagined her doing in his stories to reading about what people were thinking (and doing!) while looking at her breasts. The picture stayed. And Steven promised not to post any of the others.

About two weeks from her reunion, Hayley was laying on the deck lounger, tanning. Her thoughts battled between the July heat and what the reunion might be like. She could have kicked herself for not thinking of it earlier! She got up and went inside, went to the basement and entered "the land of things kept but never used." She moved a few boxes, looked through several others, and then found them...her yearbooks! She poured a glass of iced lemonade and returned to the deck. Laying down on her stomach, she placed the yearbook on the decking so she could read it. She had forgotten all the little notes everyone wrote to each other - some were witty, some were cordial, some promised friendship forever. It didn't really matter, because it reminded her that she did have friends when she was in school, even if they had been forgotten. As she turned the pages of the class photos, there were many she could not remember, which was okay, considering she had graduated with about 500 others. But there were some names she remembered, and some of the faces triggered vague recollections or specific memories.

The sports section showed the football team, mostly of people she didn't remember. There was the star quarterback who had seemed, and looked like, a typical dumb jock. He was probably selling cars now. There was the prom queen and king, neither of which she remembered although she did remember the prom. Basketball. Nope, no memories. There were some track pictures, with her among them. She had been a decent athlete. And the guys' track team...that's where the cute guys were. She remembered them from practices and the bus trips to meets. There had been silly dares on the bus, but she was committed to Jon and hadn't played. Darn it. They were cute. After several days, she started trying to remember the names when she looked at the faces she hoped to meet. This would be fun...to see how people had changed.

When reunion night arrived, it was somewhat anti-climatic in a way. She had always assumed that a class reunion would be something like the prom - fancy dresses, the men in tuxes. But it was Charlotte, it was July, it was hot, and she was going to a video arcade. The invitation had indicated summer casual, which she interpreted to mean a dress, but not an "evening dress." She had some nice ones, and spent an hour trying them on, seeing which would give her the best look. She couldn't make up her mind and decided to let Steven choose between two black dresses, which looked good against her tan. His choices were a back-less dress that clung to her skin rising to a choke collar, or a dress that had traditional straps and a lower cut across her breasts. She guessed he would pick the latter so he could look down her dress as she bent over for a pool shot. But she was wrong. He chose the dress that wouldn't allow a bra.

Steven was not very excited about the evening. He had gone to high school in another state and had met only one of her high school classmates, who was a neighbor when she was growing up. The arcade would be great, but the shaking hands and smiles would be wearing. But, you had to do what you had to do. And she did look nice. Glancing at Hayley in the passenger seat, it wasn't obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. He liked that, in that most of the women probably couldn't go without and look "presentable," especially with her size breasts. In the muted lights of the arcade, the unconfined shape of her breasts wouldn't even be as noticeable.

There were two other things he liked. Hayley had foregone the usual full size panty in favor of a lacy one that was much briefer. It wasn't outright provocative, but the faint panty-line he had observed following her to the car at least suggested this woman had a sense of fun. The other thing he liked was the spaghetti strapped shoes. He didn't have a foot fetish, but those thin black straps on her bare feet suggested a more ready sensuality than did her dress. In short, she didn't look cheap and she didn't look glamorous. She looked like a well dressed lady but at the same time presented a look that suggested she enjoyed fucking her mate. Of all the looks and heirs that her classmates would assume this evening, there were none that he would prefer more than this or, for that matter, that would be more authentic.

They arrived "fashionably late," due solely to traffic. There was no formal dinner but instead a lengthy table of appetizers and small sandwiches, along with an open bar. After shaking hands with a few self-appointed hosts, Hayley apparently didn't recognize anyone she knew, and they filled their plates and chose a table. Steven went to get drinks, a Molson for him and a Bloody Mary for Hayley, the only alcoholic beverage which she liked. After twenty minutes of chatter, mostly listening to her say who she thought some of the people were, there were no "friends" in sight. So he made his way to the bar for more drinks. This was going to be a slow, slow evening. Maybe she would be ready to go play some arcade games.

After getting the drinks and turning back towards Hayley, he stopped. Although "horror" would be too strong a word, it was with a full sense of dread that he noticed through a doorway an open floor area and a band testing the microphone. Dancing. A little secret she had kept from him. Video games and pool should have been enough fun for a reunion. But, nooooooooo.

He returned his attention to the table, which now had four visitors. Good! More talking, less dancing. Who were these people? They looked nice enough, and it seemed like everyone was excited. As he handed Hayley her drink and was about to sit down, everyone rose, and he could see that they were headed to the dance floor. This turned out to be the room used for the mystery theater, with all the tables removed and seats placed along the wall. Which was worse? Going to a school dance as a kid too afraid to ask a girl to dance, or being married to a wife who expected to him to dance when she knew he didn't like it?

Grin. Bear it. Claim a chair. Hayley introduced him to the others. Wes and Tina. Wes ran track in High School. He had dated Tina since then. Two kids with another on the way, apparently a relatively recent discovery as she had a great figure. Tim and Jamie. Another track guy and a blonde he had found and wisely kept in college. Two kids also. And with that, they were off dancing. Nice to get to know them.

Then it was his turn, Hayley leading him by the hand. Grin. Bear it. Don't step on your wife's feet. Hope for a slow song. And otherwise enjoy the view. With the dance floor filling rapidly, the air conditioning came on, blowing a steady stream of cold air into the room. And gazing at his wife's chest, it was obvious she felt a chill. And while she could shake her body with the best of them, he didn't think she had considered the jiggling of her breasts, outlined by the tight fabric across them.

It was great to see Wes and Tim again. The cute guys were still...cute, though they would like age in the next ten years to "distinguished looking." They had been cut-ups in high school, and it was obvious they had remained friends since, as the foursome didn't do any catching up. Hayley was glad to be included, and, all things considered, glad to be remembered by them.

Steven wasn't doing so badly, and she was proud of him for trying. She gave him a break, trying to pick out the slower numbers, when they could dance...close. Being "close" in marriage lasted only moments, usually an embrace before stripping and making love. But dancing forced you to wait, to feel the warmth of your partner, and to generate an excitement that led to anticipation. She enjoyed the intimacy.

When the band took a break, everyone rejoined along the chairs. It turned out that Tina, who was a couple of months pregnant, wasn't feeling well, and Wes had to return her home. Tim and Jamie were happy to hear that Wes could return with Tina's full permission to enjoy the reunion. And they must not have lived too far away, because it was less than a half hour later when Steven handed her off to Wes, now single for the night, who was a very good dancer indeed. Hayley thought that Steven was thinking this was a "win, win" situation, but she would really have rather danced with him. But Wes was a very good dancer, and they danced. Steven got her another Bloody Mary, and she danced some more.

Steven went to play a few games about the time Tim switched places with Wes. He wasn't as good a dancer, but then, neither was she. It was the alcohol. But it was okay, wasn't it? She didn't think the alcohol was the reason Tim kept glancing at her breasts, but...let him look. It stirred her on to dancing just a little more aggressively, her tits' movement drawing him in. And then it was Wes's turn again, but, it was a slow number. Wes, too, had taken a full look at her before pulling her close. She felt the compliment. Where was Steven? Still playing games. Her thoughts changed abruptly as she realized that Wes sure smelled good. She wasn't tipsy, quite stable in fact. But she wanted to breathe deeply of that smell, so she leaned closer, placing her head on his chest. His cologne wasn't overpowering, just...nice. Sensual. And, as their bodies nestled slightly closer, she realized it was sort of a turn-on to smell another man. It had been a long time...

Before Steven, it was probably Mike. Now he was a great dancer, and imaginative, too, in bed and out. They would dance anywhere, and their college was large enough that it always seemed like it was just the two of them in a crowd of strangers. She would lean into him, as well. He had liked the way her breasts became cleavage when she had pressed against him. Although he had seen her naked frequently, he was always shifting for a view down her dress or shirt. Her breasts hadn't been quite as large then, but she was aware that guys were always looking.

She had been uncomfortable in slow dances, at first, at the way Mike would place his hands, not on her waist or behind her back, but directly on her butt, pulling her close to him. And he was persistent about it. She soon realized that no one appeared to notice, and, in fact, it wasn't uncommon. So she would grab him likewise, close her eyes, press herself against his cock, and shift ever...so...slightly, rubbing against his hard shaft in circular patterns as they danced in the tightest embrace.

And with sudden awareness, she realized she was doing the same to Wes. She pulled away, afraid of what he would think. "I'm so sorry," she pleaded.

Wes had a big grin on his face, and said, "It's okay. We were just dancing, and." He sort of waved it off. But his hands had been on her ass, pulling her against him, she remembered. He hadn't fought it, and, she realized, she was wet from feeling his cock as they danced.