Erotic stories from home: Memories from the class reunion.
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Erotic stories from home: Memories from the class reunion.
I was leaning against the wall in the ballroom of an old hotel in the Bang Rak area, holding a glass of beer that was starting to get warm from not touching it for a minute. My gaze swept across the rows of round tables and stopped at a man laughing with his friends. He had that low fade haircut, the kind that used to be called "Harry Potter" style. He was wearing a navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His skin was tanned from golfing or working outdoors.
It was James, an older student who was in the same class as my brother in high school. We weren't really close, but tonight, suddenly, I felt like something was drawing me to him. Maybe it was the two bottles of beer I'd just drunk, or the atmosphere of the party, filled with people dressed in retro styles, like a vintage fashion show.
The live string music blasted throughout the room. A female singer was performing a song by Rewat Phutthinin. I remembered walking past his table earlier and catching a glimpse of his hand gripping the beer glass tightly, his slender fingers with sparse dark hairs.
Then I started to remember seeing him in his school uniform playing football in the evenings on the school field. I used to be a middle school girl who secretly admired high school seniors with a fluttering heart. But now I'm twenty-six, and I'm not that little girl anymore.
“Is that you, Nan?” A deep voice from behind startled me. Turning around, I saw James staring at me. His face was closer than I expected. A faint scent of cologne mixed with sweat wafted from him.
I nodded, giving a weak smile. “It’s you, James.” He laughed and said, “Long time no see. I remember you used to come watch me play volleyball.” That was ten years ago.
We talked for a while longer. He asked about my job. I said I was a company employee. He said he ran his own clothing business. Then I noticed he was looking into my eyes longer than usual, and a faint smile played on his lips.
“Shall we go out for something to eat? It’s stuffy in here,” he suggested in a calm voice, but the look in his eyes told me it wasn't just about food.
I didn't answer immediately, pretending to look at the band that had started playing a slow song, then slowly looked back. “Okay,” he said, just two words, and then gently took my arm, leading me out of the banquet hall.
We took the elevator down to the lobby. The air conditioning was cool, but my skin felt like it was burning. He said the car was parked at the hotel across the street. Meanwhile, his hand didn't let go of my arm.
Once we got into his old red Honda City, he turned on a cassette player, playing Thongchai Mcintyre's music softly. I sat still, not saying anything, but my heart was pounding.
“Nan, do you remember when I pinched your cheek in front of the cafeteria?” He turned to speak, looking directly at me, his eyes sparkling in the headlights.
I nodded, my lips feeling dry. “I remember. And my friends teased me about liking younger girls.” He laughed. “That’s true,” he said, then moved his hand to my knee through my skirt.
My skin twitched, but I didn't move away. The silence in the car was broken only by the music and our breathing. I looked up at him, and in that instant, I knew what was about to happen.
“I want to take you somewhere else,” his voice was deep and low. Without waiting for my answer, the car sped away from the parking lot.
We headed down a small, dark road. I didn't know where he was taking me, but I didn't ask. I felt like I was under a spell, or something was drawing me in, making me follow along.
The car stopped in a deserted alley beside a building with no people around. He turned off the engine, turned to look at me, and said, “Get out,” in a soft but firm voice.
I followed him behind the building, which bore the marks of time. Large trees provided shade, and darkness enveloped us. He turned, grabbed my waist, and pulled me closer until our faces touched.
“Nan, do you remember the taste of that time?” he whispered in my ear, his hand sliding down to my hip through my favorite denim skirt.
I didn’t answer, but wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer. The kiss began on my lips, then deepened until I could barely breathe. His tongue was hot and skillful.
My body was pressed against the cold wall behind me. Our breathing mingled in the silence of the empty alley. His hand gently caressed my neck before moving down to my chest through my thin shirt. A tingling sensation coursed through me.
“I missed you so much, Nan,” he said, burying his face in my shoulder. I felt his body tremble and mine growing hot. A lustful feeling began to build in my stomach. It seemed the memories of this night were about to transform into something far more passionate.
I let the kiss take us further than we intended. His hand traced the curve of my waist before slipping under my shirt. The skin-to-skin contact sent a wave of heat radiating through my body. I didn't intend to stop him anymore; the pent-up lust from the night before was finally about to be released.
He pulled me into a darker alleyway. Beside it was an old wooden door. He pushed it open, revealing a narrow staircase leading to the second floor of a row of shophouses. I recognized it as my old school friend's old rental room, now empty as he'd moved out long ago.
"I rented it to store a few things," he whispered, pulling me up the stairs. His footsteps creaked on the old wood. The upstairs room was empty, with only an old mattress in one corner. The musty smell of dampness mixed with dust only intensified my arousal, as if this was the perfect place for this.
As soon as the door closed, he turned and kissed me again, this time more intensely. His hands skillfully unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my thin top and a cream-colored bra. The cold air hit my skin; I shivered, but not from the cold.
He led me to the mattress. His hand stroked my leg from my ankle up to my thigh. A tingling sensation shot through me, making me hold my breath. I reached for his belt, the clang of metal echoing in the quiet room. As his penis emerged from his pants, it was hard and hot to the touch.
“Nan… Nan, don’t stop,” he whispered hoarsely. I squeezed it gently before leaning down and touching the tip with my lips, feeling the faint salty taste and the firm flesh. He flinched as my tongue circled the head. His penis twitched in my mouth.