Airport Pick-Up

The car slows, and I don’t move. Are we home already?

I’m exhausted. Traveling for work can be fun, but really… it’s just long hours and shitty sleep. My return flight is landing and I can already smell my lady’s perfume. I miss her. My body misses her.

The goal is to get off this plane and into her arms as quickly as possible. I keep this in mind when packing, so I always pack light, even for this two-week trip. I wrap up all the cords and miscellaneous stuff I tend to accumulate on trips. The seatbelt sign goes off and my ache for her grows just a bit. I stay seated and touch up my lipstick, and smooth my wild curls into some sort of shape while my fellow passengers jostle for position. They file past me, I collect my bags and rise. I straighten my skirt and make my way toward the terminal. Casually strolling off the ramp, and passing the baggage claim; I keep it cool.

She doesn’t need to know that I can feel my wetness creeping onto my thighs with each step, or how I long to feel her shudder on top of me.

Ha. I’m sure she knows both of these things and more… but she won’t let on. It’s okay. “I know she feels the same,” I think to myself. A sly smile pushes through my “keep it cool” filter as I catch her figure in the distance.

She just stands there, a hand on her hip (I want to touch that hip), smiling, watching me walk. It feels as if she is drinking me in. Geez… she’s got this way of making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the room!

She opens the trunk and I toss in my bag. She grabs my hand and pulls me in for the most passionate, open kiss I’ve received from her in public. I have to catch my breath! She releases my hand and gets in the car as if nothing has happened. I giggle, she’s the cutest.

We’re driving along, it’s a good drive to get back home from the airport. I can’t wait to get her home and slip that sexy dress (that I KNOW she isn’t wearing anything underneath) off of those curves! “Hey, I think I dropped a bottle of water and it is in the backseat. Can you get it?” I stop fiddling with the radio, undo my belt and try to find this bottle… Nothing. I get in the seat on my knees and reach all of the way around… Nothing. Just then I feel a hand rub across my ass and linger, teasingly on my labia.

The car slows, and I don’t move. Are we home already? I don’t even care! She pulls off the road. Nope, not home. She’s got her hand inside of my skirt now and the severity of my wetness is not a secret any longer. With a firm shove, I tumble into the backseat. We laugh, but the serious look on her face lets me know her full intentions. She climbs over the seat and is on me, kissing me hard. This is unexpected and beyond fun! Caressing her body and kissing her neck, I have to be careful not to leave marks. My desire exploding, I lift her off of me and plant her firmly in the seat next to me. A swift pull of her knees and she is on her back, legs spread.

I hike up her dress and plant my tongue deeply inside of her. She is surprised and gasps as she clutches for the headrest. I’ve missed her taste, and relish each quiver. As her moaning becomes quicker she grabs my hair and won’t let go. Her rocking hips make it difficult to stay where I need to be, but I can manage and I love the challenge.  “Baby!” She squeals as she comes hard in my mouth. Both of us panting, she shimmies her dress back over her hips. I open the door, get back into my front seat, and continue with the radio… like nothing has happened.


Did you enjoy this story? Subscribe to our weekly newsletter to find out when new stories are published.

Learn how to join our Writers Cohort here.

Follow us:

Join Us

My Umbrella Writers Cohort

Related Posts

12 Cities in 12 Months

Growing up in the gay haven of San Francisco, I’ve always said that I’d rather live in another country than another American city. Since we’re banned from the world for the foreseeable future, I decided to put the theory to the test.