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Chapter 208 by ArthurBalfour ArthurBalfour

What happens after the reunion?

Everyone gathers for an after party.

And there we all were, like no time had passed at all. Sitting on my couch, next to Talia my wife and Rachel her ex-girlfriend, I looked out on Amy, Corrine, Stephanie, and Elizabeth.

"It's kinda sad," Stephanie volunteered, "that it took a school reunion to bring us back together."

Talia chimed, "And Ian's birthday!" She hopped out to the kitchen and returned with a flaming, 29-candled cake.

The girls sang "Happy Birthday" and then each (except Rachel) surprised me with a peck on the lips. It was just barely enough to remind me of old times.

The girls had hardly changed. If anything, they had all grown into their features, and moved with the confidence of full womanhood.

The girls were still wearing their evening finery. Of course, Talia had dressed to flaunt her assets. Her loose, red blouse floated over her firm chest, tucked into a tight, black miniskirt. No bra, of course. Her smooth, bare legs were almost totally exposed. Bright red lipstick matched her blouse. It had taken every ounce of self-restraint to keep from ruining her hard work. My wife had chopped her long locks into an edgy shorter style that accented her long neck and collarbones.

Rachel had elected for a slim, black, backless cocktail dress, fishnet stockings, and flats. She was keeping her eyes on Elizabeth, who stunned us both with a shimmering gold gown that showed a generous amount of cleavage. Elizabeth kept whispering back and forth with Stephanie. The actress's navy blue turtleneck was stretched tight over her feminine curves. A white, leather miniskirt and matching go-go boots completed her retro look.

Corrine had opted for a violet scoop-neck dress, modest by her standards but low-cut enough to attract attention. The color offset her blonde tresses, the height of taste. Only Amy had dressed plainly, in a functional green blouse and beige slacks. Still, the outfit didn't hide her trim and trained physique or her striking red hair.

My wife, her breath hot with red wine, whispered in my ear, "Are you as turned on by our friends as I am?"

What can he say to that?

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