A gentleman helped her swing her bag up into the overhead compartment amid all the other arms and elbows in the crowded aisle.

"Thank you! Thanks a lot." she smiled at the gray-haired man in a light gray suit, admiring his blue eyes.

Her seat was on the aisle and she nodded to the young girl stowing her backpack under the seat in front of her. "Will this be in your way?" she said.

"Not at all. Don't have anything but my purse anyway."

"How long is this flight, do you know?"

"A little over three hours, I think."

"Oh. Thanks."

More bags slammed and some of the compartments were slammed shut.

Most of the seats were soon filled and a few stragglers hurried up and down the aisle looking for space in the overhead. Lots of disgusted slamming of full doors, more harried searching. Katy opened her book, but knew it was too soon to start getting into it with all the distractions. One of the latecomers caught her attention. He looked familiar. She knew it was he, but wasn't sure she wanted to admit it. She buried her eyes in her book ... his eyes were searching the bins. He passed and took a seat across the aisle and two rows to the rear. The back of her neck reddened and she kept her eyes on the book in her lap.

"Aren't you uncomfortable traveling that way? Dress, nylons and heels?"

"No, not really. I'm an old fashioned girl, I suppose. But really, I didn't have a chance to change into something more comfortable ... so ... here I am."

"Looks nice, though." The younger girl smiled at her and put her pencil to a crossword puzzle.

"Maybe it is not even him." She thought. "Maybe just looks like him. It's been twenty years ... people change."

The engines roared and the taxi began.

"Would you fasten your seat belt, please?"

She heard the stewardess stop two rows back and heard the flirtatious male voice and brief banter take place with the stewardess. "Well, that sounds like him," she thought sardonically. In spite of herself, she smiled and read the same page for the fifth time.

Katy managed to avoid looking back until they were at altitude and the fasten seat belt sign had binged off. She left her belt on, her elbow on the arm of the seat and her book poised on upturned fingers. She couldn't resist a quick look back. And there they were, those same blue-green eyes and they were locked on her with an intense stare. She quickly looked down and away pretending to be looking for something. But she could already hear the belt being unlatched and then he was looking down at her questioningly.

"Katy? Katy Marie Reilly, it's you, isn't it?"

She looked up into his eyes and smiled.

"Hello, Robby. How are you?"

"I'm fine. You look wonderful. How long has it been?"

"I don't know. Twenty years?"

"Too long." He said. "Oh, Miss, would you mind changing seats so I can sit with my ex-wife?"

"He is a liar," she said, "you don't have to move."

"Oh, now Katy, we have to ... surely..." he grinned the crooked grin she could never resist in high school.

She relented. "He's a charming liar, though. If you don't mind changing ... it's just barely OK with me."

The girl gathered her things and bumped her backpack against the head in front of their row, and Robby John Kelly swung his lithe body into the seat and made himself comfortable, stowing a brief case under the seat in front of him.

"You know, I always hear about you around town. I try to keep track of you. Sounds like you are doing great. What is it, two kids? I see your brother Tom every so often, he tells me stuff."

"Does he?" She remembered her brother invariably told her that he had seen Robby and that he asked about her. But, so many people told her that regularly, she didn't need to ask about Robby. She wondered if she would have asked if family and friends back in Springfield weren't always thrusting the information at her.

They settled into a fairly comfortable reminiscence, leaving out how badly it had ended. Talking more about old friends and relationships.

She had been a wide-eyed freshman at a Catholic girls' high school and he the bad-boy athlete in his senior year at the boys' school. He had a car and in it he had taught her a lot about sex and kissing and making out. Her upbringing kept her a virgin, in spite of his best efforts. Her mind drifted back to sneaking out of the house to break her father's rule against dating Robby and being picked up at a friend's house for long evenings of making out in the old Chevy. While she had been one of the 'good girls' she had enough of the renegade to be attracted by the wise-guy senior classman and by the pleasures of adolescent sex. Always short of penetration. He taught her first French kiss, which she really liked. He was the first boy to touch her breasts in a serious way, scooping them out of the cups of her sturdy Maidenform brassieres. She remembered being terribly nervous about putting her panties in the laundry because they bore evidence of his making her moist between her legs on every night of necking. She remembered resting her arm on his thigh and finding the warm, firm length of his cock there against her soft virginal flesh. The windows would steam over in cold winter nights as he pressed it against her mound through tight blue jeans. When he tried to press her down where her lips might have found his cock, she remembered whispering:

"Don't make me do that."

"What? Don't do what?"

"Oh, my mind wandered, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Sorry!" Her face was crimson.

"God, you still blush! Look at you!" he laughed.

And he had stopped forcing her down into his lap that time. With the joy that can only come in those youthful days, they explored each other's bodies thoroughly. Through it all, she had maintained a certain line and he grudgingly respected her for it. Most nights he went home with a bad case of what was referred to as 'lover's nuts.'

Toward the end of the school year however, Robby sought more from a senior girl friend. And got it. She became pregnant and in the way of the community in those days, they 'had to get married.' Katy's first "white Knight in shining armor' had crushed her young dreams. It was hurt that stayed with her, even though she had many more romances and happy memories from her high school days. She was known as one of the nice girls and it was known among the boys that nothing below the waist was tolerated with Katy. Always, she was a one boyfriend at a time girl, though she changed boy friends regularly.

But now, even twenty years later, her best friends from those days kept the memories fresh and asked if she still thought of Robby even after being married since graduating from College. She had even reluctantly told her husband some of the details during sex one night. He kept asking about it and seemed to find some excitement in getting her to tell him little snippets of their hot penetration-less love making in Robby's old Chevy.

"Sorry, I didn't hear what you said?" she asked as she came out of her reverie about her sexual awakening. She disliked the fact that she felt moistness in her panties just thinking about it.

"They just announced that the Chicago airport has shut down. Big snowstorm. We are going to land someplace else."

"Where?"

"Cincinnati."

"Oh, god..."

"Snow there too, but not as much, I guess." He supplied. "Might as well relax and enjoy it. Hey, we can get all caught up! Do you remember all those nights you sent me home with sore nuts?" he whispered.

"Stop! We're both married and we shouldn't talk like that."

She was blushing furiously and crossed her arms across her chest to hide the nipples showing through the dress.

Katy had long wondered how she would react to being near him again. When he got married, it was like the couple dropped out of sight. She had only seen him from a distance a couple times in all these years. She knew it was possible that the old feelings would still be there if they were together. She didn't like that thought and she hoped it wasn't true. But sitting together in the tiny airline seats meant that their thighs touched from time to time ... and she noticed that the cock that had seemed so large to a high school freshman was visible against his trouser leg at this moment. Memories made her swivel the armrest down between their bodies.

Katy had never strayed from her marriage vows and in many ways was still the Catholic schoolgirl of her upbringing.

————————————

The bar was very crowded but they found one stool and Katy climbed up and crossed one nylon-sheathed leg over the others. Her skirt split attractively over her leg at mid thigh.

"I'll have a Manhattan, she nodded to the Barman."

"I'll have the same." She heard Robby say. "Nice place, eh?"

She nodded and tasted the sweet liquor. It occurred to her that she loved wine and liquors, but admitted it was a bit of a weak point. She tended to get drunk and happy rather easily. She made a note to be careful.

They continued laughing and reminiscing.

Robby rested his hand on her thigh, loving the feel of the dress sliding over nylons. Katy put her hand on his, and then slowly pushed it away.

"How did it go ... when you ditched me ... and went off with Cindy?" she said pointedly. "You hurt me, you know."

"You dumped me! No ... I know ... I am sorry about that. We had such a good thing going, you and I. I screwed up, Katy, I screwed up."

"Yes." She answered simply, admitting nothing further.

He was silent for a while and she knew she had stunned him with the sharp comment.

But he bounced back very quickly, mentioning one of the good times. He leaned close to her ear and said, "My god, you were lovely. I was really in love."

She ignored the comment, but his breath against her cheek stirred her.

Another drink came and they laughed some more.

"The rooms are nice, don't you think?" he said during a lull.

When she returned from the restroom he was on the barstool and she offered to stand for a while. Several people entered and there was a bit of a crush, forcing her closer to him. He was sitting with wide spread legs and they crowded her close up between his legs.

"Ohhhh." She said, feeling a little uncomfortable about being close that way. The thought of how he had pressed the cock that was so close now against her tummy in those hot clinches so long ago. He put his hand on her waist protectively. He slipped down off the stool and said, "Here, Katy girl, you take the seat." They brushed together front to front as they maneuvered and she felt his cock prod against her.

"It's nice having a truce, after all the years, isn't it?" he urged.

"Yes, I suppose so. A lot of water under the bridge?"

"Forgive me, then?"

"No." She said simply.

They laughed. " You were never very good at compromising, Katy dear."

"No, and a good thing the Sisters taught me so well!"

They laughed together over the stories Catholics have about growing up under the iron rule of nuns.

"Sister Frances hit me so hard with her ruler she broke it over me one day." He laughed.

"I am sure you earned it, too."

His hand slipped to her thigh again and she left it there a little longer this time, and then slowly pushed it along her leg and off.

"Your legs are still good." He smiled. "Still solid. You must work out."

"A little, it's a constant battle. You too, how do you keep so trim?"

"I still get out and play basketball and a little softball, so that's keeps the weight off if I keep the beer down."

He touched her arm as he talked. But she knew his way and was wary.

"When did they say we will get out of here?"

"They are talking about maybe as much as two days. I guess the snow is really heavy and more coming this way too."

"Would you like to have dinner sent up to my room?" he tried. A smile crossed his face hopefully.

Katy tilted her head downward and gave him a look. They still didn't have to talk to communicate, she thought.

"Your table is ready ... Mr. Kelly."

They followed the Hostess through the crowded bar. Katy noticed all the men hold their drinks up high and face her so they could look her up and down as she passed. It was a little pleasure that she enjoyed. A waiter carried the remainders of their second drink on a little tray.

A tasty bottle of Chardonnay arrived with dinner and they clinked glasses and smiled across the candle. The booth was circular and they sat across from each other.

"Can't we sit closer together? Easier to talk?"

"Robby, don't get any ideas, we are both married."

But she moved around the arc and they continued warm reminiscences. Katy was loosening up and laughing more easily. She could feel the warm affect of the drinks and promised to slow down on the wine. Beneath the white tablecloth, she gave up on keeping space between their knees because the shape of the small booth made it inevitable.

"Remember how you used to love to dance? We, I mean ... Every chance you were pulling me up to a dance floor?"

"Yes, and you took me to places where I was too young to drink, too! You took me away from the Catholic Teen Center, you devil! I did love to dance. Well, I still do, but don't get to very often. Don't know why. Usually just the Snowball Ball at the country club. John is not much of a dancer."

"Is he good in bed?" he said with a stone-face.

At first she didn't catch it, or thought she heard wrong.

"What?"

"I say, if he is not much of a dancer, is he at least good in bed?"

"None of your business." She snapped. "Quit saying things like that, you know they embarrass me." She smiled a tiny smile. Then thinking about it, she said "And he is quite good, by the way."

"So, no, then?" He persisted.

"I said ... never mind. Lets change the subject, OK?"

"I bet we would have been very good in bed." He said, his eyes penetrating, pretending innocence.

"You are terrible, Robby, you know that?"

"Did you ever want to, back in that old Chevy? I have always wondered about that. Wondered if you ever regretted saying no to me all those nights? I wanted it so badly. Did you ever think about saying yes and letting me get into your panties?"

She took a long drink and stared back at him over the rim, her elbows on the table and the glass perched on two hands. "Robby, people will hear."

"But did you? You can just nod or shake your head."

She looked at him long and hard. Then slowly, nodded her head. The small smile came slowly, then she blinked her eyes and broke the eye contact, looking down at the table, pretending to brush away a few non-existing crumbs.

"Oh ... yessss ... I thought about it. I was only human ... and so young."

He smiled with a small satisfaction.

She shook her head as though clearing the cobwebs of memory, smiled at him and said, "Ah well, so long ago ... my father was right, I shouldn't have been going out with you. You were a terribly bad influence, you know."

"I'll bet you use things I taught you on your husband, eh?"

She slapped his muscular bicep and blushed anew.

"Stop! What would the nuns say?"

"You had the most wonderful boobs in the whole school, do you remember?"

"Remember? God, I was the first in my class to have boobs and I was embarrassed."

She paused, staring at him over the rim of the wine glass.

"Then I found out how much you liked them and I started liking them too."

The waitress filled her wine glass, and she took another sip.

"And you still have the prettiest eyes of anyone I ever knew."

She smiled softly, and she realized it had been a long time since anyone told her that.

They leaned back and stared at each other while the waitress put their plates in front of them.

"Hot plates, please be careful." She said.

They ate quietly. She felt his leg press a little closer touching their calves in addition to their knees. She thought the game of footsie was not a threat, and pushed back very tentatively. He took the encouragement and picked up her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back in spite of her resolve, then pulled away and pressed her napkin to her lips.

"We should go to a place to dance tonight. Want to?"

"No. I should go upstairs and call my husband, get an early night's sleep." She said quickly.

"Going to be a cold night. Shouldn't we stay close for the body heat?"

"You know better."

"Gotta check in, huh?"

"No, not like that. Just keeping in touch, letting him know I am safe."

"Why would he think you weren't safe?" he laughed quietly.

"Anyway, we can't go dancing. That would be like a date."

"Have you forgotten how?"

"No, of course not!"

"Well, then come with me. Keep me out of trouble?"

"You need a keeper, but it isn't me!" she laughed.

"Would you unbutton your blouse a little?"

"Are you crazy?" She said, again slapping his bicep. "Stop saying things like that." But inside she felt her nipples crisp at the suggestion.

"I'd just like to see them again. See those well-filled bra cups one more time before I die!"

They laughed together, each remembering nights long ago in the Chevy when she let him take her breasts out of her brassiere.

"Are they still as sensitive as they were in those days? I remember how little it took to make you purr. I mean just playing with them a little made you purr with pleasure."

"Stop it!" She looked down at her dinner but smiled. Her breasts felt full and tingly with the memory. She was aware that she was moistening between her legs. "But, yes, I was always sensitive there. Still am, yes. But, again it is none of your business!"

She tried to steer the conversation to some safer subject but he persisted. She knew he was getting a little tipsy now. Another bottle of wine appeared and someone was pouring, she thought of covering her glass, but didn't. The wine warmed her body. At least that is what she blamed it on.

His hand was warm on her thigh, the fingers touching nylon and his palm the skirt of her dress. After a time, she took it away, but let him hold her hand instead. The warmth spreading from his thigh to her nylon-covered leg was enormous.

They shared each other's dessert, his a large chocolate brownie with ice cream and caramel poured over; hers a modest little Crème Brulee. The romantic aspect of feeding him with her spoon; the care needed to hold it poised before his lips, then carefully insert it suggestively between open lips was not lost on her. Katy cursed her body for responding.

The wine steward poured more wine and she was surprised that she had emptied her glass once again. The empty wine bottle thrust into the bucket of ice seemed erotic too. The thought of watching an erect prick thrust manfully into her pussy flashed through her mind to be brushed aside hurriedly.

"What do you think? A little dancing at the roadhouse down the road?"

"We shouldn't. I shouldn't" Her rejection had softened, though, and she didn't mention calling home. Mentally she chastised herself and sat up straighter with resolve.

"An after-dinner drink?"

"Sure, why not." She had a definite buzz in her head now and the words were flowing easily as wine.

A small snifter of Grand Marnier arrived.

"Could I have it on ice, please?"

The golden liquor slipped easily down her throat and warmed her body.

When she came back from the ladies room, he noticed her dress was unbuttoned. The dress had buttons all the way down the front. A little bit of a lace brassiere showed now with a lovely soft hint of her breasts.

"I called home. Everyone is fine. All snuggled up by the fire out of the snowstorm."

"Oh, good." He said. "You look beautiful."

She shook her head, but smiled at him.

'Did you do that for me, Katy?"

"What, oh ... didn't notice that. Should I button it up again?"

"No, please don't. Tell me it's for me."

She looked into his eyes again. She had not moved close this time, their legs were not touching now and she was more comfortable about it. She wrangled with herself before answering.

"Why do you ask such things? Can't you just let things lie?"

"No." He sighed quietly, knowing it was too important to him, knowing that she unbuttoned to let him glimpse her breasts a little bit more. There was a lump in his throat.

"I don't know. I don't know ... I just ... I guess I just feel a little more attractive. This dress looks better this way. I don't know. I don't know why ... yes ... yes, Robby, I did unbutton my dress for you. There, I said it."

"Thank you. They're as beautiful as ever, Katy."

She toyed nervously with the lapel of the dress and worried more about having unbuttoned it to show a little more of her breasts. The white brassiere seemed to gleam like a beacon and she wished she had not done it.

"Thank you, I guess."

"How about dancing? It's not far."

"I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Everyone at home is safe and sound. Why can't you have a little fun? Put a fence around it." He encouraged.

She gave in.

"No slow dancing, OK?"

But there was slow dancing. The third song took them into slow dancing position amid the flashing lights of the club. The dance floor was crowded with all those twenty-something girls and boys writhing together. Having fun.

And there were fancy colored drinks of unpronounceable names and unfamiliar contents to be drunk. But it was the sort of place where Katy was at home. She loved the bright lights; loved the writhing bodies of the young people; loved the excitement of the whole thing. And there was not a soul here who knew her.

She had joined in on the upbeat first three songs and looked almost like the younger girls, except better dressed in the tasteful dress, now unbuttoned from the bottom to show a little more leg.

"God, I love places like this! I miss being their age and having no responsibilities. Don't you?" she said.

"God yes. I'd love to go back to those days. Why don't we pretend? Build a fence and we go inside."

"Right. Why not?" she laughed and felt his hand on the small of her back pulling her into the slow number. All around them the young dancers were locked into smooching, the lithe young girls draped around the necks of the boys, rubbing against each other in clinches. The ballroom reflector light provided an air of abandon. The fence was up. Katy slipped close to her old boyfriend.

"Ooops ... She leaned back in his arms and looked at him, a laugh on her lips. "God ... haven't felt that in a while! Is that what I think? Did I do that? Ohmigod!"

"I'm afraid so." He replied. "Why does it surprise you so?"

"So soon. And I wasn't sure I could still bring on that reaction, old girl that I am. Wheee!"

"You are so beautiful, Katy." His whisper thrilled her. She felt his breathy words uttered directly into her ear and she shivered all over. His cock pressed insolently against her mound and tummy, reminding her of days in the Chevy when she learned how big it was for the first time. She felt naked against the warm shape. She calmed herself and they danced more slowly, then stood still — and moved only parts of their bodies.

"Ohmigod!" she whispered.

"Ohhhh, yes." He said. "I have missed you."

"Shhhh. Don't say that."

"We're inside the fence." He reminded her.

"Still ... mustn't get crazy. It's an illusion."

His hand slipped down over the roundness of her bottom. When she didn't move it or protest, he moved the other hand and cupped both globes of her ass. They humped together for a minute or so and then slowly she pulled his hands up to her waist again."

They sat across from each other at the small table in a dark corner of the noisy, jumping club. The din made conversation limited. But nothing was said about the fact that they had just humped sexually against each other on a dark, dance floor.

They drank the colorful tall drinks.

"Wonder what is in this?" she tried to be heard above the noise.

"Gin, grenadine, brandy, orange juice, papaya, all those things, I read." He said helpfully.

"You might have to carry me home, you know."

"Looking forward to it!" he grinned.

Another button had come loose and everyone could now see the valley between her breasts and if they were tall, the white band of her brassiere at the end of the tunnel. So she fit in more with the young crowd, all showing lots of bosom.

"God, they are pretty." He shouted, staring meaningfully at her bosom.

"You keep telling me!" she smiled, feeling good and happy in the din of the club. She looked away pretending not to notice the compliment. But it thrilled her. And the drink was creating a further euphoria.

She pulled his hand and they went to join the writhing dancers again. They joined in the prevailing wildness with arms and legs and whole bodies until once again the band quieted down to play a few slow dance numbers. Again they insinuated their groins and thighs against each other in synchronized fondling.

"Katy, I'm loving this."

"Me too." She joined him. "But I shouldn't."

"I mean I really love it." He whispered urgently.

She nodded her head against his, waited a time and then said. "I'm having fun, Robby. I'm having fun, too."

She felt her nipples respond to his firm muscular chest and noticed his cock was vertical and hard and slipped easily from one side of her mound to the other when they moved against each other.

"Feel that?"

She wanted not to answer. Wanted to pretend that she wasn't intentionally playing with another man's cock against the vault of her womanhood.

But he wouldn't let her pretend it wasn't happening.

"Yes."

"Like it?"

She concentrated on the dance as they continued to sinuously enjoy each other's body. She knew it; he knew it; they were having sex. The thought rocketed through her mind, now a little fuzzy from the alcohol. She thought, the prudes of the world would say we are having sex right now, just rubbing his cock against my mound. But we are not. We are just dancing. We are sex dancing, though, she thought and she could hear laughing in her mind that no one else could hear.

His hand was on her bottom, but just one. She rationalized that one was OK. He seemed to have accepted that that was another Katy-line drawn in the moral sand of her life, and he squeezed the soft, full cheek lovingly.

"Nice song." She said, ignoring his question. "Of course I like your prick against me, it's only natural," she thought. "But you can't put it in." She added to herself. Thoughts rolled through her mind easily in the pleasant haze of the alcohol.

"You have your hand on my ass, again, stranger." She said into his ear. She felt him squeeze and then rub lightly across both cheeks and the erotic thrill charged through her body, quiet pleasure.

"I am sensitive there too." She laughed loudly, trying to be a little bit outrageous amid the dancing, colorful light beams tracing around them.

His free hand slipped over her hip and up her side until he was touching the side of her breast for a few moments.

"What are you doing?" she said sternly, into his ear.

The hand moved on and went across her back. He spun her around and let his fingers slide across her nipples.

"Wow, can you still do that?" she said, silently thrilled by the touch and not wanting to mention it.

He did it again and again his hands brushed lightly but perceptibly across both nipples. They were jutting firmly against her brassiere cups and she was feeling very wet between her legs as well. But she was happy to be dancing; happy that they were able to have this time together. "Even though we cannot have sex. It is a nice reunion." She heard herself say inside her brain. She was in that otherworldly space of early to mid-drunkenness. And the hands fondling her thrilled her body like a bow exciting the taut strings of a violin.

"You know, you could actually go without a bra. You look that good."

"Oh, my god ... you flatterer. I could definitely not do that!"

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could too."

She laughed at the child's play back and forth.

"Better not!" she said, finally. She knew the right answer would be "Won't."

He pressed his lips to her ear. "You really could, and this dress would look wonderful with you braless underneath it."

"Oh, Robby, don't say things like that to me, honey!" She whispered back negatively into his ear, sending chills of pleasure to the soles of his feet.

"Mmmmmm. " He hummed into her ear, nuzzling and kissing as she swiveled her head against his lips; keeping his lips centered there.

She giggled, signaling that she enjoyed the naughty suggestion.

His hand reappeared between them and he touched just below her breast, then actually touched the lower curve, then moved back to fondle her bra strap.