True intent
The reunion hall smelled of spilled gin and old memories.
Ten years since graduation, and the place was decked out like a sad prom—bunting sagging between the rafters, balloons bobbing half-deflated against the ceiling, a DJ spinning throwback tracks that made my teeth ache. I adjusted the strap of my dress, the silk clinging just a little too tight, and scanned the crowd. Faces blurred by time and too many happy hours.
Then I saw them.
Donna and Paul, standing near the bar like they owned the place. She was laughing, tossing her blonde hair over one shoulder, her dress cut just low enough to show the swell of her tits. Her frickin college asset still defying fuckin' gravity. No bra, the bitch.
Paul had his hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed possessively. They looked like a fucking wedding cake topper— fondant figurines; perfect, posed and poised.
I hadn't spoken to Donna in years. Not since she'd decided Paul was more interesting than our friendship. Not since she'd fucked him behind my back, then married him six months later. The betrayal had been a slow burn, but standing here now, all I felt was the heat of the open bar and the itch of my own skin.
I grabbed a whiskey neat and downed it in one go. The burn was good. It matched the one in my chest when Donna's eyes locked onto mine.
"Juniper!" Her voice was syrupy, too sweet. She waved, dragging Paul over like a reluctant puppy, "Oh my God, look at you. Still the most put-together woman in the room."
I smirked. "And you're still full of shit."
Paul laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
Yeah, he was six-three, quarterback, packing meat, I was eighteen. It wasn't his tact, sensitivity or knowledge of literature that had attracted me to him.
Donna's smile didn't waver, but her eyes flickered—just for a second—with something like guilt. Or something I couldn't place. Hard to tell with her.
Doona grabbed us each a cup of punch.
My, was the fruit masking proof input, raw vodka, maybe tequila too.
We made small talk. The weather (muggy), our jobs (decent pay cheques, boring), and the alumni fund (a joke).
Paul kept his arm around Donna's waist, his thumb tracing idle circles on her hip. She leaned into him, but her gaze kept drifting back to me, like she was trying to memorise the shape of my mouth.
The DJ switched to something slower, a song that made my skin prickle.
Donna bit her lip. "We should dance."
Paul's hand tightened on her. "Yeah, let's—"
"No." Her voice was sharp. "Just me and Juniper."
I raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you ask permission?"
Donna's laugh was breathy.
"Since never."
She grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward the dance floor before Paul could protest. His face darkened, but he let her go.
The music pulsed around us, bass thrumming through my bones. Donna pressed close, her body warm against mine. She smelled like vanilla and something muskier, something that made my thighs clench.
"You're staring," she murmured.
"You're hard to look away from."
Her fingers traced the neckline of my dress, dipping just low enough to brush the swell of my breasts.
"You always did have a way with words."
I caught her wrist, "Cut the bullshit, Donna. What are we doing?"
She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear, "I miss you."
The words hit me like a punch. I should've pushed her away. Should've walked out. But instead, I pulled her closer, my hand sliding down to grip her ass.
"You have a funny way of showing it."
Donna groaned, low and needy, "I know. I fucked up. But I'm here now."
The song ended. The DJ announced the next cloy hit.
Donna's eyes gleamed. "Come with me. Cigarette, like old times."
"Paul," I blurted.
She laughed, pointed, "He'll cope."
I sniggered too. Cindy-Lou, who never left the small town, had her hands low and going lower on Paul.
"Cigarette," repeated Donna.
I should've said no.
I didn't.
The fire escape was cold against my back, the metal biting through the thin fabric of my dress.
"Too chilly for a smoke," I started.
Donna pressed me against the railing, her mouth hot on mine. Her kiss was desperate, like she was trying to devour me whole.
I kissed her back just as hard, my hands tangling in her hair.
"Fuck," she gasped, pulling away just enough to yank down her dress to her navel. Her tits spilled out, perfect and round, nipples already hard.
I didn't waste time. I bent down and took one into my mouth, sucking hard, my tongue swirling around the peak.
Rigid, springy, supple yet firm. What a fuckin heavenly combination.
Donna moaned, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
"God, yes. Just like that."
I switched to the other breast, my free hand sliding down to cup her through her panties. She was soaked, her pussy hot even through the fabric.
My thumb pressed against her clit. Two fingers sliding through her slick between her fleshy pleats. Her gash a moisture trap.
"Juniper," she whimpered. "Please. Oohh! Aahh!"
I dropped to my knees, dragging her flimsy knickers down her legs.
She stepped out of them, kicking them aside. They wafted on the night breeze in freefall to the street two stories below.
I didn't give her time to think. I spread her thighs and buried my face in her mound, my tongue flicking over her clit.
Donna cried out, her hands flying to my hair, "Oh fuck, yes— Mmm, mmm, mmm!"
I ate her like she was birthday cake, my tongue dipping inside her, then back up to tease her clit. She was sweet and salty, her juices coating my chin. I could feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she got closer.
"Don't stop," she begged. "Please, don't stop. Oohh! Hnggh! Oohh!"
I didn't. I kept going, my fingers joining my tongue, two of them sliding inside her. She was tight, her walls clenching around me as I fucked her with my hand.
"Juniper—I'm gonna—"
I pulled back just enough to look up at her.
"Come for me, Donna. Let me taste it."
She came with a scream, "Arrgghh!"
Her body shuddered as her orgasm ripped through her. I lapped up every drop, my tongue never leaving her clit until she pushed me away, too sensitive.
I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Fuck the stupid college hall, fuck Paul. Come back to my hotel room."
Donna had my hand leading me down the fire escape. Covering her boobs as she moved.
At my car, in the school carpark, "Your underwear?"
"Underwear, who needs it?"
"Oohh fuck," I mouthed as Donna's teeth shredded my knickers and her head dived into my muff on the front seat.