I never really liked anyone in my high school and didn’t feel the need to keep in touch, let alone visit my hometown after I’d left.

I wasn’t what you’d call popular, so landing a girlfriend was next to impossible. The jocks dated the cheerleaders, and geeks like me relied on porn, fantasy, or both. Mostly, mine centered around a cheerleader named Kelly. She was next level: tanned, blonde, and almost Amazonian. She looked like she should be serving champagne on a Dutch airline.

Last year was my fifteenth reunion and a few of my friends convinced me to go. Admittedly, the teenage boy in me fantasized about seeing Kelly after all these years. Had she heard about my success as a defense attorney? Would she confess that I was her secret crush and throw herself at me with uncontrollable lust? Would we fuck behind the school, rammed up against the padded gym walls while the rest of our classmates choked on watered-down punch? I wasn’t thrilled about returning home, but I was determined to fuck my dream girl.

When I pulled up to the event, I saw a group of ladies warmly greeting one another with shrieks and hugs. Kelly was in the center of the cuddle fest. Gathering up my courage, I opened the door to my Lexus.

Suddenly, I spotted a man approaching the group of women. He walked right into Kelly’s arms as she welcomed him with a kiss. He stuck his hand out, greeting all her cheerleading pals. I peeled out of the parking lot. What the hell was I thinking?

The liquor store down the street seemed like a good destination to sweep up the shards of my destroyed fantasy. I stormed into the dimly lit store, snatched a bottle of merlot, and beelined to the cashier. While handing over my credit card, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Stephen? Is that you?”

I turned around to see a gorgeous, raven-haired woman beaming at me. I must have stared at her for an entire minute before it hit me like a ton of bricks: She was my former French teacher, Ms. Hooper.

“Ms. Hooper,” I said, scanning her up and down like a TSA machine. “How are you?”

She looked as good as she did back when I was a teenager. Ms. Hooper had the perfect hourglass figure. You couldn’t draw curves that spectacular. And it was obvious not much had changed. In school, all the jocks hit on Ms. Hooper. After all, she was only a few years older than us.

I walked her outside and we continued to catch up. She told me that I was always one of her favorite students and that she knew I was destined for law. As we talked she inched closer, leaning in to touch my arm and laugh at my jokes. I told her I was in town for the reunion and she asked if I’d be into skipping it and having a glass of wine at her house.

Within an hour, I was polishing off my third glass in Ms. Hooper’s living room. Loose from the booze, we joked about school and each time she laughed, she would playfully touch my thigh. She was shockingly sexy. I wanted to fuck her brains out, but I couldn’t bring myself to make a move.

As if reading my thoughts, Ms. Hooper reached for my thigh again, but this time she aimed high and grazed my growing boner. She stopped and made eye contact with me, saying nothing as she softly rubbed my cock, letting it grow beneath my pants. She traced the tip of my cock with her fingernail and pressed her mouth against mine, swirling her tongue with mine and grabbing the back of my neck. We made out like teenagers as she climbed onto my lap, hiking up her skirt and balancing over me on her knees.

She undid my pants and pulled out my dick while I reached between her legs and hooked her panties to the side. I jammed two fingers deep into her wet cunt as she gasped and continued stroking my rod. I picked her up, bent her over the back of the couch, and slid my dick inside her. I grabbed a fistful of her black hair and pounded her, watching as her creamy pale ass bounced like a rubber ball against my abdomen.

Suddenly, she started moaning in French. I had no idea what she was saying (she was using words we didn’t learn in class), but it made me fuck her harder. I smiled as I thought of my silly former classmates making small talk at the reunion, while I had my cock in Ms. Hooper’s wet pussy, fucking her like a boss.

That thought sent me over the edge. I pulled out, blew my load all over the small of her back, and blasted strands onto her skirt and blouse. I heard her moan again as she reached around and rubbed my thick come all over her ass. She flipped around, kissed me hard, and trotted off to the bathroom.

I sat there on the couch, stunned in disbelief. When she came back, I noticed her stained, rumpled outfit. I smiled to myself. This was better than Revenge of the Nerds.

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