After she graduated, Stephanie seriously threw herself into forging a career in acting. She spent a few years as a waitress in New York, and then another few in Los Angeles, booking the occasional gig in a stage play or a TV commercial. Despite her efforts, she never really caught her “big break” as an actress - but at the same time also never let herself get jaded or discouraged.
To our surprise, Talia and Rachel split up in their final year of college, with Rachel hopping across the pond to Oxford for grad school. Talia returned to California, and Amy even met her a couple of times while she was doing chores with our son, Adam, in tow. Even when asked, Talia commented that she and Rachel had simply drifted apart, wanting different things in life - and although Amy suspected there was more to the story, she respected Talia enough to not pursue the matter.
Elizabeth ended up getting a job as a high school teacher, striking the balance between the meek and outgoing personalities she developed during senior year, the perfect combination of demure and confident. She turned many a head in school, and took all the admiration in great stride. In fact, she even got a bit of a reputation as a "matchmaker" of sorts, offering advice to her students who had a case of the crushes.
As for Corrine, she took us by surprise - though in hindsight I really should have seen it coming. One day I was waiting for Amy in the local bookstore while she finished some last-minute errands, checking out new volumes in the science fiction section, when my wife ran up to me with the biggest grin on her face.
"Look!" she chuckled, thrusting a magazine in my face: the latest issue of a certain well-known gentleman's periodical. I raised an eyebrow at her. I hadn't bought a nudie magazine since the middle of senior year, and Amy certainly wasn't the sort to get them.
And then I recognized the familiar face adorning the cover, and the familiar pair of tits as well.
"Holy shit - is that Corrine?!"
"I know, right?!" laughed Amy. There was no mistaking it - underneath the layers of dramatic makeup and glamorous hair, Corrine looked back at us with a sensuous, smoky "come hither" glance. Her bust, as magnificent as I remembered them, were scarcely concealed behind a bouquet of flowers that struggled to cover her nipples.
As soon as we got into the car, Amy tore the shrink wrap off the magazine, and we spent the following minutes poring over every detail of Corrine's photos, giggling like a pair of giddy schoolboys who'd just discovered female nudity for the first time. The photoshoot was apparently taken all the way in Scandinavian Europe, and Corrine's natural beauty shone through. In one photo she proudly posed atop a hill with clouds tumbling behind her, giving her the aura of a real Valkyrie, while in another she was bent around an old-fashioned water pump, suggestively gripping the handle with a spray of water all over her tits.
"Damn, she's still so hot," I murmured.
"I can tell," snickered Amy, followed by the familiar sensation of her hand on my crotch.
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