Part 1 from Heathers’ perspective [here](https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/k1to53/high_school_sweethearts_reconnect_part_1_f_mf/)
It had been 8 years since we last saw each other. We both moved away after high school, and that first year was rough. Though we agreed to no long distance relationship, we were still talking too much to truly get over each other. We spent a portion of the next summer together, but decided to go no contact after that. I’ll call her Heather.
It started one night a few years ago, a random Wednesday. I see that I have a text from someone not in my contact list. Immediately, I recognize the number. Heather. My heart lifted, in a euphoric way at first, but then it kept rising, pushing up against my throat, making it hard to breathe. I waited several minutes before opening the message, hoping I would calm down a bit. I didn’t. I had considered reaching out to Heather several times over our near decade apart. Sometimes I would get as far as writing a draft, editing it, and deleting it. Mostly, it was just for comfort after a break up. Could that be what I would find behind those ten digits? Heather was married last I heard, but that was years ago, and through the grapevine. I was in a serious relationship myself, and I felt a pang of guilt at the magnitude of emotion that one unopened message could stir up. I took a seat on my couch and opened the message.
The message was fairly long. She was at a party, playing some drinking games with a group of friends. That was the pretense, I think. But the real message was about her dreams. She confessed to having regular sex dreams about me. And told me that she sometimes thinks of me when she is playing with her vibrator, wanting to be reminded of what it was like to get off to me. Fuck. I read and re read the message, feeling myself growing hard. Sex with Heather was the hottest sex I’ve ever had. Those words brought dozens, hundreds of memories rushing back, nights of hot passion, days of risky adventure. I could not keep my hands off her when we were together. I send a response, get one back fairly quickly, and before I know it I’m lying in bed waiting for her call.
It is hard to describe that night. Hearing her voice again for the first time unleashed a torrent of memory. The conversation started out sooo giggly. We were infatuated with the sound of each others voice. Soon after, the mood turned lusty. Before long, we were both touching ourselves, listening obediently to each others commands. She told me to close my eyes and start stroking my dick. I told her to rub her clit. She said she was, and thinking about my cock while doing it. I tell her to think about sucking my dick while fingering herself. She tells me to moan for her. I tell her to cum for me. Her breathing gets heavy. In a half high pitch whispher, half moan, she tells me shes cumming. Her words and tone push me over the edge, and I tell her in a strained voice that I am cumming too. I recoil back into my pillow as my cheek is suddenly wet. My hand holding my phone up to my ear is hit next. Then the cleft of my chin, just below my lips. Heather made me cum so hard that I gave myself a facial. I sat there in a sort of shock for a few seconds, genuinely not sure how to feel. I told Heather that she just gave me my first ever facial and she giggled and acted all impressed with herself. I decided I liked it after all.
The conversation moved then to more giggles, admissions of love, general catching up, more giggles, more love, and, whenever one of us had recovered enough, more phone sex. 7 hours later, watching the sun come up and wondering where I should sleep during my lunch break, we finally said goodbye.
Fast forward a few months. Heather is in town to visit family and friends. And me. I had pulled out all the stops, literally every move and gesture that I could think of to impress her. At the same time, I was worried about just how high I had built up expectations, for myself, for her, and for us. Surprisingly we hadn’t talked much since that night. I think we both were unsure of how to proceed given our current relationship situations, so we backed off a bit. I was pacing around my sparkly clean apartment, not eating, when finally I hear a knock at my door. I open up and there she is, with a huge smile on her face.
It is hard to explain how good she looked that day. 5’7″, pale face, ocean eyes, brown hair streaked with blond, and the biggest tits I have ever seen. I remember being able to easily fit her whole boob in my hand, fondling her while making out either pressing down on her chest while in missionary or reaching around while we were fucking doggy style. Now, her boobs are so big that I would need two hands to contain just one of those beasts! I know she caught me staring as I pulled her into a hug, but I didn’t care. Almost. That hug though. That hug was like the climax of a thousand romance novels. It was like we were the only two people in the world. And like all the other cliches. But it was real. Pulling away, I tell her I like her jumpsuit. She giggles and corrects me, telling me it’s a romper. I respond by giggling pulling her into another hug. I’ll show her a romper!!
For the lunch date. I picked a spot that was pretty far away, but super worth it. Patio dining overlooking a slow-moving river and a park. Catching up with each other was effortless, easy. Too easy almost, as I found that just the sound of her voice was bringing a smile to my face. We finished up eating, paid, and left. We had just spent the whole morning together, and I had the early afternoon free. I suggest a walk around the park to continue our date. She smiles and agrees.
At this point, the energy surrounding us is palpable. We are walking side by side, slowly, each trying to catch a look at each other from the corner of our eyes. There was no conversation really at this point. I was so caught up in my own thoughts, about all of our catching up, about her body moving along side mine. We get to a point where the path narrows to a bridge, and we both shift towards each other. Our hands touch. My breath catches, and I swear we each let out an identical sigh. We pull away basically each walking against opposite railings to cross the bridge. The tension between us was becoming unbearable.
Finally, the trail leads out into a clearing, with a beautiful pavilion in the middle. Once under the roof, we can finally look at each other again. Her eyes are so pretty, her lips so luscious, her expression so wanting. My emotions mirrored hers, and it took all my reserves of self restraint to not go in for a kiss, then and there. On the walk back to the car, my mind is still back in that gazebo. I desperately want to grab Heathers’ shoulder, spin her towards me, and press my lips and body into hers in a moment of blissful passion. But the chanced was missed. Missed on purpose. Both Heather and I are in long term, committed relationships. But we never stopped loving each other. Now that we had allowed those feelings to resurface, though, what were we to do?
I had just convinced myself to give Heather a kiss goodbye, when we get to the car. We arrive at the parking lot, and what is there to greet us? People! Parked right next to my car, unloading like four kayaks! Fuck. Four kayaks and two people ruining my impulsive plans. I literally would have to ask them to move to access my car door. We reroute to bench that overlooks both the park and the gazebo we had just left. On the bench, we sit close. Hips touching, shoulders touching, legs touching. I don’t remember what was said, but I remember that desperate feeling of longing. Of knowing our time was almost up. This spot is fairly busy, being at the entrance to the park, and I think that is what ultimately kept us from going in for that one hot, sweet, dangerous kiss. We head back to the car, and while our first hug of the day was filled with love, this one was filled with longing. With need. As I slowly drive away, I know that this is not the last time I will see Heather. It can’t be.
The days and weeks following, Heather is all I see. We have been talking a bit more regularly, but the chance for another in person encounter is months away. The next time I see her, I don’t know if I will be able to restrain myself from giving her all of me.