You never forget the first girl you have sex with. Mine was named Sue. To this day I still think about her.
I ran into her the other day at the market. She was still hot, just as she was in high school. Same long dirty-blonde hair, tight little ass and beautifully curved tits. I was contemplating a bottle of wine when she walked up to me and said hello. We hugged hard, glad to see each other.
"How are you, Sue?"
"Good, Joe. You're looking good for forty."
"Same with you." We checked each others ring fingers, which were both empty. We agreed to meet for dinner that night and I said I would pick her up. We went to my favorite restaurant in the City and the maitre'd seated us immediately at my favorite table in the corner. She allowed me to order for her and I picked a full classic French meal, starting with pate, then a clear soup, roasted chicken, vegetables, potatoes and finished with a cheese plate.
We caught up on each others lives in the twenty years since we had last spoken. She had been married and divorced twice, had three kids and was a premier banker, handling high net worth clients. I told her about me two kids, my failed marriage and my idle early retirement.
I looked across the table and remembered the old Sue of the tight rock & roll t-shirts. My cock stirred at the memories of stolen moments with her in dark corners of our high school.
"God, I've missed you Sue. I've never stopped thinking about you."
She reached out and took my hand. "Same here, Joe. I've often wondered what happened to you. I never saw you at any of our class reunions."
"Something was always going on. I used to travel a lot for business."
"And now?"
"I only travel for pleasure."
We sipped cognac over dessert, both full to bursting. I paid the check and we walked over to the cigar bar for another. I was surprised when she pulled out a cigar and lit it. She offered me her lighter and I lit up my own.
"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked her.
"No. The kids keep me busy."
"How old are they?"
She pulled out a small leather portfolio filled with pictures. "Sixteen, fourteen, and eight. How about yours?"
I pulled out my wallet and showed her pictures. "Twenty and eighteen."
We compared notes on the wonders and horrors of teenagers, then laughed that our parents must have said the same things about us. We had been mid-grade wild, but nothing that ever required bail money.
We puffed at our cigars, enjoying each others company. I was feeling all the old sparks return. I looked over at her to see if the same thing was happening to her.
"Sue, are you happy?"
"I do okay. Two-time loser in the marriage game but the kids make that worth it. Would you ever have guessed I'd end up a stuffy old banker?"
"Never! Professional band groupie is what I had you pegged for. Remember that terrible joke I played on you?"
"Which one?"
"The one where I had you thinking Steve Perry was dead? Had you going for a whole day!"
She socked me in the shoulder. "That sucked! My love for Steve Perry was a religious thing."
"I got tired of hearing about it. Pretty good prank, I think!"
We finished our drinks and cigars and started for the car. We held hands out into the parking lot. Once there, I couldn't resist the temptation and kissed her. Our arms went around each other and it was as if we were teenagers again. All the old feelings came flooding back and we stood there, making out by the car.
"Your place or mine, sailor?"
"What would your kids think?"
She laughed. "Actually, they would be quite shocked. How about yours?"
