Your erotic stories

My stomach was churning and a headache was starting to form just above my eyes. Nearly 20 years later, that building still gave me fits of trepidation: Bradford James High School; home of the Fighting Navajos. Of course, here's a tip for the people that name schools and figure out the mascot names: think like a high school kid. Going to school at Bradford James and being called the Navajos is a problem when you're always referred to as the "B J Hoes" by the other schools and kids.

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Let's see, I graduated high school in April of 1964, if I remember correctly. April of 1999 was my thirty fifth high school reunion. Had it really been that long? It didn't feel like it but then again my memory ain't what it used to be, to put it mildly. Since I had never made it to any of the other reunions, why should this one be any different? A phone call from my past was the answer to that one.

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My high school reunion was coming up in a few days, and I couldn't wait. I hadn't been back to my hometown since my graduation 6 years ago, so I was really looking forward to seeing some old friends. I know what you're thinking: a 6-year reunion? Well, I'm from a small town, so the high school does all-class reunions every few years.

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