Intro: The exploits of a man whose given name fit him perfectly, Randy, and he certainly was that. He was a high-school history teacher and coach until he hit the lottery and retired early at 52. While he was not averse to returning flirtatious quips from the girls in his classes, he did avoid giving in to the urge, telling the more enticing of them to, "come see me after you graduate." Some did, but these stories deal with his life after hitting it big and building two houses; one along a river bluff 45 miles inland from the Atlantic Ocean and another on a secluded portion of the Northern Outer Banks, both equipped with playrooms. And he still had over a hundred million to spare. All characters are 18+ years of age. All stories can stand alone, but reading the series gives added insights and descriptions as it unfolds.
Synopsis: Hook-up at a class reunion
October, 2017 - River House
Fall had settled in early and most of the trees on Randy's property had lost their leaves. He changed his daily walk from the riverbank to the fence line. The fence was made of a concrete base that was two feet thick and buried another three in the ground. That was topped by a black steel palisade fence that was eight feet high, which made the total fence height above the ground at ten feet. It stopped at the bluff to the riverbank on both the east and west.
Randy knew that anyone who really wanted to get in could do so via the river, the property was wide open from there. The fence, and the large imposing gate was really to discourage anyone on land from getting too curious.
One day during the first week of October, he sat on the pool deck in the late afternoon after his walk and watched the setting sun cast shadows of the bare limbs. He smirked as they looked like ghostly fingers reaching out across the deck.
Lighting a cigarette to go with a glass of red wine, he began to open his mail. The junk he quickly separated without opening and he was left with two letters.
One was a thank you note from Maria in response to his paying for her college. She was well into her next to last semester and had hand-written on a note card an expression of her thanks for his help. She had also informed him that she wanted to visit him again sometime to thank him properly.
Maria's note made him smile and he reached for the second letter. Inside was a card to remind him of a class reunion in two weeks to which he was invited. Though usually he skipped such gatherings, for some reason on this fall evening he decided he would attend and sent the RSVP card back the next day.
*
The Friday night of the reunion he had dressed in blue jeans, a red Henley long-sleeved cotton shirt and a black leather sportscoat. The soiree was held at a large hotel downtown on the river that had banquet facilities. The invitation had noted that "Cocktail Hour" would begin at five with dinner served at six-thirty, so he conveniently showed up at 5:30.
It was a cash bar, and he ordered a Vodka Collins, to which the young lady mixing gave him a bewildered look.
Randy smiled wistfully. "Do you have Tom Collins mix?" The young blonde nodded in the affirmative. "Mix it as you would a Tom Collins but use vodka instead of gin."
"Oh, okay," she responded and set about making his drink.
As she worked, Randy turned back to the crowd and saw Marisa from a hook-up last year. Her light chestnut color had a unique sheen in the dim lights.
"Marisa," he greeted her. The mixed-race woman smiled nervously at him as she ordered two beers. The barkeep placed his drink on the bar, and he threw down a ten, moved the stirrer and took a sip, then inquired, "I thought you were coming back to let me sample the rest of you."
At that moment, a black guy came up and, without answering his question, she introduced the guy as her fiancé. Randy greeted him and congratulated them both and, as they walked away, he thought, 'Oh well, her ass was a good fuck.'
He made his way to an empty table in the corner and sat, slowed by the greetings of former students along the way. As he sipped his drink slowly, several more came and said hello to him. The crowd had started to thin out as the attendees made their way to the dining area and he checked his phone as he waited for things to clear out further.
"Are we that boring that you have to check your phone?"
He looked up to a white, flower print dress that was losing the battle in its effort to contain a large set of tits.
"Hello Morgan," and he rose to give her a quick hug. He sat again as she placed a Bud Lite can on the table.
"This was my fourth, I'm getting another. Can I get you anything?"
Randy pointedly checked his half full glass, "Nah, I'm good," and he watched her ass as she made her way to the bar.
She was mid-thirties and her body had not experienced any negative effects from alcohol. 'She must work out if she's drinking like that,' he thought as he watched her return with the fresh beer.
She sat at the table and took a long pull. "Aren't you going in to eat?"
"I haven't decided. I have made my appearance and was thinking about cutting out. How have you been?"
Morgan recounted her time since high school for him. The effect of the alcohol was noticeable if you were looking for it, but she was still functioning at a high level. Currently she worked for the federal government and lived next to the Pentagon City Metro station in Virginia.
Without warning the conversation took a turn, "You know, when I was a senior, after I'd turned eighteen, I told Kristen that I thought you were cute, and I'd fuck you for an A." Kristen was another blonde in the class; a very talkative one. Never could keep a secret.
"I know, she told me," he said with a smile as he picked up his glass, the ice all but melted now.
She eyed him for more than a moment and then continued, "How's about I fuck you tonight for that A I got? I have a room upstairs."
"Morgan, you earned that A on your own, but it won't matter because if you don't slow down on the suds, you wouldn't remember it if we did."
She replied, "How about we just leave now then?"
"Only if we go to my house instead," he replied.
"Oooo, I like that better," and she stood and bumped his shoulder with her ass.
Randy half-laughed, nodded, and stood as Morgan took one last pull on the beer. Something started niggling at the back of his mind, something about Morgan. She reminded him of something, not someone, but something and the thought hung just out of his consciousness.
They left her car in the parking lot and he drove her out to his house. On the ride over, she got frisky and told him about the one time during final exam week when she had come to his classroom after school intent on fucking him, only to find he had already left for the day.
Twenty minutes later, when they got to his house, he parked in the garage and took her hand, leading her into the kitchen. He casually flipped on the recording system as he asked her. "So, you're certain you want to do this?"
"Yes, I've been wanting to do this since the day I walked across the stage at graduation, I just never had the chance before now."
Randy held out his hand, palm up, "Come with me," and she made a big show of taking it, curtsying as she did so.
He led her across the foyer to his bedroom. As they had crossed beside the sunken living room, Morgan slowed and pointed to the floor to ceiling windows, "Oooo, nice view," and Randy had to put a little more effort into leading her into his bedroom.
Once inside the doors, he turned into her and squeezed her ass hard as he pulled her in close, "I'll tell you what's a nice view. You and this body of yours," and he paused and watched her wet her lips. Her nose was a bit too long and pointed, but she wasn't a bad looking gal.
