But the husband doesn't stop me. So I move my hand gradually higher. My hand edges under her skirt. My hand slowly continues upward until I feel the t...ps of her stockings. I linger there, drawing circles with my fingers over the lace. The husband can follow my movements by watching his wife's skirt, the fabric moving in concert with my hand. He's so excited that he's practically panting, and he has to momentarily rise off his stool to adjust himself.My hand continues to softly caress his wife's. We built a good life. Great careers, big house, money in the bank, wonderful kids. But there was always something missing. We were always more like friends had lovers. It was him that she always wanted. He was the only boy who could make her fall apart. I wondered how she would react if we ever saw him again. I got my answer at our 25 year high school reunion.The 25 year reunion changed everything. He was still the most popular guy there. But everything else changed. The cheerleaders. More

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