Airports can be a blessing and a curse for any perpetually horny couple, especially one that’s been apart for a while. It’s a blessing because despite the constant flow of people at all hours of day and night there are lots of places to sneak off to for a quick and unseen fondle, grope, or fuck. Contrarily, it’s a curse when all you want to do is be alone and make up for lost time, and every walk, every escalator and moving walkway ride seems interminable.
We stand together on yet another escalator, leading away from the terminal and the bathroom we just minutes ago christened with our long-imagined first fuck. “So, now that you’re finally here, what would you like to do first?”
She steps up onto her tiptoes to whisper in my ear, her deft finger caressing the back of my neck as I lean towards her. “Do you mean before or after I suck your cock and fuck your brains out when we get to the car?”
Fully aware of all the people around us as the escalator, I pull her into my arms closer, nipping at her earlobe with my teeth. “Is there something we need to do before that?”
She pushes me back, her small, delicate hands on my chest, her lips spread into a smile that leaves me hungering to kiss her again. “Silly boy. I’d like to get my bags first. You know, so I have something to wear while I’m here?”
“And why would you need that?”
“Oh, you’ll like what I brought to wear for you.” She steps up on her toes and give my lips a quick peck. “You picked out half of it.”
“I’m buying stock in Victoria’s Secret the next chance I get.”
All the while we’re on the escalator and down in the baggage claim, my hands never leave her body, my fingertips rising and falling along her arms and sides, then down around her hips and the tops of her thighs as I stand behind her and she watches for her luggage. She leans back against me, that wonderful ass grazing against the tops of my thighs, and each time she leans over to grab a bag she presses it back into me, emphasizing in my mind the promise of so many nights online talking about fucking doggie-style and how good it was going to be.
It’s only three bags but it seems like hours before we’re finally walking out of the glass doors towards the parking garage. Still full of deep purples and blues, the predawn sky greets us with cool dewy breath that I feel tingling on my skin. The first hints of rose appear on the horizon just beyond the tall garage building, promising a perfect January morning, and adding to the excitement and adrenaline rush of this day, our day, finally being here.
Somehow we both manage not to run up the stairs to the car, but a look at her face and the wicked grin playing across her lips tells me she wants to just as much as I do.
When I reach the Daytona blue Nissan Z roadster and pop the trunk with the remote, I notice she's stopped a few paces behind me, an incredulous look on her face.
“This is your car?”