The Reunion

Confession: I hate netspeak. LOL especially makes me want to hurl Merriam-Webster's at the monitor. But there's one that goes back, in non-abbreviated form at least. Back to the days of hideous feathered hair, rainbow suspenders, and deely boppers.

That's why I'm not surprised when my best friend texts me from inside the reunion: "OMG, you'll never believe who's here!" We children of the eighties have rights to that one, I think.

And it's him. That unreachable one. God I lusted after him, but he was so out of my league it wasn't even funny. Then, a miracle: senior year he played Orsino to my Viola and he had to kiss me onstage, in front of everyone...but he didn't have to, um, suck face. The kiss was mandatory, but the mesmerizing swirling undertow of his tongue, perfectly slippery, shockingly intimate - that was his choice.

So now I give it back to him tenfold. Now I can reach him, grab him, pull him to me unthinkingly, blind with 20 years' worth of desire. And it's rampant hormones and roiling emotions all over again, and I kiss him, in front of everyone. His cock swells against me, remembering.

And I push him down and I undo him, and it's my tongue circling hypnotically now, slicking him with spit. And it's me who climbs him now, scaling the heights of the popular boy, my cunt gripping him like a fist. We both come fast and hard, gasping, shuddering. In front of everyone.

[written for Alison Tyler's "WTF? STFU!" contest]