I have previously written a fantasy about having a threesome with two guys at my high school reunion. My husband enjoyed the story, and he has written this version of the reunion that inspired that story.

When we first started dating, my wife was too shy to tell me details about her relationships before me. She was just 19, and still a virgin. But I knew she had a history of giving guys handjobs, blowjobs and a few guys had fingered her and eaten her out.

After more than a decade together, she grew more confident sexually and more comfortable talking about her past. I started to realize that talking about her past got her even more excited than it got me.

Talking about her past made her feel desirable and sexy. And the sexually confident woman she grew into fantasized about how she could have taken charge of some of her earlier sexual experiences, when she was shy and nervous.

A few years ago, she reminisced about her younger flings as we prepared for her 20th high school reunion. She was one of the leaders of the organizing committee, and the hotel she picked for the venue comped us the best suite.

We arrived very early to check in and get organized. Hours before the event, I was undressing her in the hotel room, teasingly licking her nipples and stroking her through her panties. I asked her which guys she was interested in seeing. She listed off some guys whom she had talked about before, I knew some were boyfriends and some were guys she had crushes on. Before that weekend, I didn't realize that she had so many of their cocks in her hands and between her lips.

She started telling me about the guys, and a wet spot on her panties appeared and expanded.

There was the baseball star who went on to play in the minor leagues. She never really dated him, but she said he was the object of some of her most intense early sexual fantasies. They had been lab partners, and his arm had brushed against her breast one day, sending shivers down her spine. She said she went home that afternoon, and locked herself in her room, stripped off her clothes and imagined him ravaging her. She was on her back with her legs spread, wrapping them around her pillow wishing the baseball player was mounting her.

There was the smart guy who went to an Ivy League school and then became a military officer. His cross-country practice and her drill team practice ended at the same time, and he would drive her home. Her parents and brother were all at work, and my wife started inviting him in so they could hang out. Every afternoon they would make out and grope on the family room sofa. Eventually she got bolder and hornier, and took him by the hand up to her room. She would strip down to bra and panties, and he would get down to his boxers. He would sit on her bed, his back against the headboard while she straddled him and they made out and stroked each other. Her family had instilled a lot of religious guilt around sex, but she thought she was safe if she kept her panties on.

"I could feel his hard-on through the underwear, and it sent me into a frenzy. I couldn't control myself. My clit was engorged and aching to be touched. I would grind my clit against his hard-on. My panties would get so wet, and I could see drips of precum on his boxers," she said.

While she was telling the stories, I was sucking on her nipples and fingering her. The image of her in her 18-year-old body grinding against a guy was getting me excited. I slid down so my face was between her legs and started teasing her labia and clit with tiny kisses and licks. I didn't go too fast, because I wanted her to keep telling stories.

She started talking about her date to the senior prom. Her parents still have the photo up on their mantle. She has her curly hair in short bob and is wearing a sweet, innocent dress. It did have a a plunging neckline that showed off her budding cleavage. She said she wasn't in a serious relationship with the guy, whom she knew from a church group. He was even less experienced than she was. She had fun that night, and she liked dancing with him. She was getting more into him as the night went on. They went to an afterparty where they both sipped a couple of drinks, and she started to feel frisky. He had been kissing her throughout the night, and now his lips were moving down to her neck and shoulders, turning her on more as he got closer to her nipples, just barely covered by the dress.

She loves nipple play. Sometimes, I think if a random stranger walked up to her and started rubbing her nipples, she would pull her panties down and beg for cock in a few minutes. I'm sure the 18-year-old version of her was loving his hands on her breasts, and eager for more. She said that she was getting wet from the makeout session, and she arched her back to give him a hint that she wanted his mouth on her nipples. He nervously unzipped her dress in the back, and she wiggled her shoulders so it slipped down to give him access. First he traced a series of small circles around her areola, finally rubbing her sensitive, erect nipple. Then he repeated the circles with his tongue and lips, until his warm mouth enveloped the nipple, sending pleasure waves down her spine.

"I was soaked," she told me. "I reached down and felt his hard-on through his pants and he let out a surprised moan. As he sucked my nipples more intensely, I started rubbing his shaft."

"Can I take it out?" he asked politely. "It's so hard it hurts."

She didn't answer. She just unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and took the zipper down. He helped by slipping his pants and boxers down around his thighs, releasing an average to small pink, circumcised cock.

"I guess now I know it wasn't huge, but at the time I had very little frame of reference. It looked perfect to me. Pink and smooth, with a bulbous head that I immediately imagined spreading my labia and entering me," she said.

They were sitting on a bed in an empty guest room at a friend's' house. He stood up to make sure the door was locked. When he sat down again, she knelt between his knees.

"Tell me what feels good," she said, as she began stroking from his head to his balls. He threw his head back and moaned.

The image of my wife, an 18-year-old virgin in a sweet white dress, kneeling and holding a cock that she desperately wanted to make explode with cum, turned me on so much.

He told her to go slower, and to hold the shaft tighter at the base at the end of each stroke. She was always a great student, and she followed directions perfectly.

"I didn't want to be a slut known for giving blowjobs to high school guys. I barely knew him. But I was excited. And I wanted to taste it," she said. "His skin was so tight, it was shiny. Then a tiny droplet of precum bubbled out. I used my finger to rub it around the head. And then I couldn't help it. I kissed the tip, then wrapped my lips around it."

His whole pelvis lurched upward in pleasure and desire. That scared her a little and she pulled off.

"Please," he begged.

She suckled the head a little more. She kept stroking the shaft tightly.

"Oh God," he said. "I'm gonna come."

She thought he was sweet for warning her. She popped her lips off and the first burst hit her neck and shoulders, another hitting her chest, then dribbles on her fingers and palm. "Oh my, oh my," she said.

She had to cup her hands carefully and scoop up all the mess so it didn't stain her dress. She stumbled into a bathroom to clean up and make sure she didn't leave any cum on her chin or shoulders. He kissed her when she returned and said they should get back to the afterparty.

The whole time she had been telling the story, I had been gently licking and fingering her pussy. But now I picked up the pace. We were both excited.

"I would never finish and without giving you an orgasm," I told her, using my two fingers inside of her and my thumb to fully expose her clitoris to my warm tongue.

"Mmmmmm. You make me feel so good," she said. She pushed my head down so I wouldn't stop lapping. "Faster," she ordered.

Her legs began to shake. She moaned loudly. I could feel her vagina muscles tightening around my fingers with each contraction.

I stood up next to the bed and pulled her legs to me. "You gave your hands and mouth to those high school boys, but this pussy is all for me."

I entered her quickly and she gasped. She rubbed her clit as I pistoned her. We both came hard, and I filled her deeply. She grabbed my ass tightly as I came.

We held each other and fell asleep for a bit. But that was just the start of the reunion weekend.

We still had several hours before the reunion, and she had to do some setting up in the ballroom. I went to the hotel gym to kill an hour lifting weights.

When I got back to the room, I found her on the bed with her legs spread, shorts and panties stripped off. Her hips were gyrating as her fingers manipulated her clit. She was lost in her passion and didn't notice me until I climbed onto the bed. She jumped as I placed my hand over her shirt and rubbed her nipples.

"You are an insatiable slut today aren't you?"

She covered her face with her left hand, embarrassed that I caught her. But I noticed her right hand kept rubbing her clit.

"Sorry. I came back to the room and was feeling frisky, and you weren't here, so ...," she said.

"What got you so excited?" I said, taking her shirt off and taking a nipple into my mouth.

She told this story: She was downstairs with about five or six classmates, decorating the lobby where they had set up two photo booths. Then her friend, the Ivy League guy whom she used to grind on every afternoon after practice showed up to help. They hugged and chatted as they got things ready. After they were done, he offered to help carry a couple boxes up to the room.

I could imagine her giggling and flirting with him in the elevator. Probably blushing a little.

"Wow, great suite!" he said as they dropped the boxes by the door. She showed him around a bit. She said was embarrassed the bed was unmade, and wondered if it still smelled like sex. She blushed brighter.

"Looks like you guys got here early," he said with a smirk..

She said there was an awkward silence that went on too long, before he finally said, "I guess I better head to my average room and leave you to get ready in your suite."

I took her nipple into her mouth and asked her what she was feeling. She admitted she was nostalgic and had a longing to kiss him like they used to. To fall back onto the bed with him and see if they still had chemistry. "I'm sorry. Does that make me a slut?'

"Yes. My perfect little slut," I said, and slid down her body to lick her engorged clit. She was soaking wet again.

I stopped licking for a second and said: "Tell the truth, if you knew I wouldn't be back in the room for an hour or two, what would you have done?"

I went back to licking and gently fingering her. She hesitated for a long while.

"I wouldn't have fucked him," she said. "But I would have sucked his cock."

The admission got me even harder.

"I would have knelt down and taken him all. I wouldn't have asked permission. I wouldn't tease his cock like I usually start with you. I would have immediately taken it all," she said.

She stopped talking and I stopped licking and moved up to position my cock against her wet opening. I slid all the way in quickly, not giving her a second to get used to the girth as I usually do. I pulled her tight at the end of every thrust, whispering in her ear that she was my slut. It was intimate and physical. I came hard, filling her up.

After a couple minutes, she got out of bed and got her Hitachi wand. She spread her legs and pressed it against her clit. "Suck my nipples," she ordered. I did as I was told and she had a large, full-body shaking orgasm.

As we both recovered, I asked her why she wanted to suck his cock so bad.

"I want to show him that I was good at it now. That I have gone from that awkward, nervous girl full of sexual guilt, to a strong woman who knows how to take charge and make a man explode. I want him to be jealous, that you get that all the time. Later, I want him to fuck his wife's face while he closes his eyes and wishes it was me slurping up his cum."

My perfect little slut.

A couple hours later, we were getting dressed for the party, and she seemed nervous. She spent more time on her hair and makeup than usual. She pulled on a tight strapless dress that emphasized her cleavage, and a skirt that wasn't too short, but did show off her lean, muscular legs. My wife has always had great calves, and they look particularly sexy in heels and a short skirt.

I was sitting back watching her get dolled up. I couldn't help wondering whom she was hoping to notice her cleavage and legs. I know it wasn't me she was worried about impressing. She saw me staring.

"Do I look OK?"

"Don't worry. Whomever you are interested in impressing is going to notice you. I bet he will think of you in that dress while he is jerking off or even fucking his wife," I said.

She blushed and smiled. I walked behind her and pressed my hard-on against her ass. I reached my hand up her skirt and used my index finger to trace a line against her panties from the bottom of her labia to her clit. I could feel a trace amount of moisture. She sighed and pressed back against me.

"For my pride, I'm going to imagine that I got you wet - not memories of some high school boyfriend with a big cock."

She spun away and slapped me on the chest, jokingly. "If my panties are wet it's because your cum is leaking out of me. You'd think a middle-aged man like yourself would be satisfied getting fucked twice before a reunion."

I grabbed her again, pressing my erection against her. "Not completely satisfied. Don't you think this tent in my pants will be a distraction at the party?"

"Stop it. We are going to be late."

"But you look so sexy," I said, unzipping my dress pants and pulling out my hard cock, stroking it gently.

She looked down dismissively. And shook her head, going back to her makeup.

"Please. Before you put on your lipstick," I begged, still stroking. "It will be quick."

"It better be," she said, kneeling on the bath mat and taking over the stroking duties. She was much more efficient than normally. No soft teasing strokes, or using just a fingertip. She grasped the shaft hard and stroked all the way to the bottom and top again in the rhythm I prefer, while her lips enveloped the head and her tongue circled the tip.

If they had a yearbook award for best cocksucker for the class of 1990, she would have been the winner. Within a few minutes, my cock was pulsating and filling her mouth with warm cum. She didn't stop stroking or sucking as I came, draining my balls and then continuing to slurp longer than usual. She didn't want any cum on her dress.

She popped off and while looking up at me. "Satisfied now?"

She straightened her skirt and pulled out a tube of dark red lipstick, applying it perfectly to the lips that had just brought me so much pleasure. I zipped up and straightened my shirt. By the time I had put my blazer on, she was already at the door. I don't think she had time to brush her teeth. "Let's go. We're late because you're such a bad, horny boy."

I told her I loved her and that she was beautiful as we rode down the elevator. She was already thinking about the classmates we were about to see. "Give me a piece of gum," she said, probably as she tasted my cum on her breath.

I handed her a piece of gum, and we arrived downstairs. From that moment on, I barely saw her. She was a whirlwind of greeting, hugging and kissing her classmates. I watched with a smile as she kissed cheeks with the lips that had just been wrapped around my cock.

The night went by pretty quickly for me. I spent much of it with a college buddy who had married one of my wife's classmates. He joked that it was fun watching our wives with old boyfriends.

I liked watching her talking to guys who used to be handsome but now had protruding bellies and receding hairlines.

She pulled me onto the dance floor a couple times and I spun her around to old songs. She was happy and kissed me, and then went back to a group of friends. Back at the bar, a tall, good-looking guy introduced himself to me when he saw my nametag. He said he knew my wife in high school. I recognized him as the guy in the photo from the dance. As I was talking to him, I couldn't help imagine my wife nervously touching his cock, stroking it tentatively at first then picking up the pace until he covered her shoulders and chest with ropes of cum. I'm sure he noticed that she was again wearing a strapless dress tonight, showing off the cleavage that he once sprayed all over.

After he walked away, I scanned the room for my wife. I saw her talking to a guy I recognized from other high school photos. This was her first real love, a guy she obsessed over and continued to pursue after college. Just seeing her with him filled me with real jealousy. It was different than seeing her with guys she crushed on or fooled around with a couple times. I knew this guy had really affected her. She had also confessed that he was the first guy to eat her out.

They were both smiling broadly, and I winced when he touched her arm and she leaned in closer. I had to look away. The next time I noticed them, they had moved to the dance floor, and she was wiggling her ass to an old school hip hop song as he danced awkwardly and stared at her. The music transitioned to a swing tune, and he took her hand and placed his other hand on her hip and started moving her around, touching her side, arms and shoulders as he spun and caught her.

She loves dancing, and I had even taken lessons with her to make her happy. That led to lots of great sex. I knew she was enjoying getting twirled around by her high school love. I was jealous and turned on at the same time.

I went to the men's room before anyone noticed that watching my wife dance with her ex had given me an erection. I calmed down, but then I couldn't find my wife when I emerged from the restroom. As I walked around the hotel, from the dance floor to the bar and then around the halls, visions of her with her ex were running through my mind. I pictured them making out in a quiet corner, his fingers going up her skirt and finding her panties wet. The whole process had my heart racing.

An announcement piped through the hotel that they were about to announce the winners of the superlative polls, and people started flowing toward the dancefloor. I saw her then, walking in with a group of people who had been chatting and smoking outside the lobby doors. She had her arm in his arm and she was laughing. As they got closer to the ballroom, she pulled her hand out and looked around for me. I acted as if I had not noticed her holding onto her ex.

A moment later they were on me. "Hey honey. This is my friend Shawn," she said. He looked the same as he did in the photos, just a little doughier and thinner hair. A good-looking guy, but not intimidatingly handsome. We shook hands.

"We better get in, and find out who the winners are," she said.

She stood with me as the winners were announced. She won two awards, something about best smile and most class spirit. She spent the rest of the party talking to her female friends, and we danced a couple times. I did catch her looking around the room for Shawn.

It seemed like it took hours for her to finish her goodbyes at the end of the night. Finally we were back in the elevator. I crowded her into the corner jokingly, kissing her neck as she squirmed away. I told her I was glad she had so much fun. She slipped off her heels into her hands and told me she was exhausted. She tried to go directly to the bathroom, but I cut her off and pressed her gently against the wall, kissing her neck, shoulders and the top of her cleavage.