Homecoming...(aka If Only)

You step off the commercial jet glad to have your land legs back for just a little while before you have to continue your trip. It’s been six very long months of waiting to get to someone you left the states not really knowing at all, to today when you know her deepest, darkest secrets, sharing intimacies she hasn’t shared in many years. One nearly missed meeting two years ago, a moment that created months of “if only” fantasies. If only you weren’t married, if only she invited you in, if only…and then a phone call. A kind phone call from a long distance friend to say hello again. To see if there was something you could do to mend the hurt – and her response, telling you to go away and never call back. What had you done, how could you fix it, and what could it possibly be?

A mistake, a simple mistake that once again placed you on a path to alter “if only.” If only had become when. ‘When I get there, baby,’ you would tell her when you could hear the uncertainty in her voice. ‘When I get there,’ you would tell her when you felt her hesitate and think just a little too long about what seemed to be an unending list of ‘if only’ obstacles. The ‘when I get there’ replaced all the ‘if only’s’ until they were no longer part of her vocabulary. She was intelligent, accomplished and knew where she had been in life. You wanted to show her where she was going, and if you didn’t figure it out soon you would be headed back to ‘if only.’

You saw her first, standing with her back to the thickly painted cinderblock wall of the airport terminal. You chuckled as you headed toward her. She was wearing a leopard print blouse with a snug, black knit skirt that hung to just above her knees and heeled black pumps. It was a private joke; Mama Cougar is here, is what the outfit said. At 21 years my senior, she was still having a hard time with the age difference. Her heart was telling her one thing, while her head argued public opinion. She still hadn’t seen you; you could see that she was nervous. Spending hundreds of hours with her on the phone, you truly didn’t know if she’d be here when you arrived. You had hoped she wouldn’t let you down.

Suddenly you realize her blue eyes are staring directly at you. Those are the eyes that you’ve seen every night before you’ve fallen asleep, her picture taped to the bunk over yours. She smiles at you, then looks down to the floor, takes a deep breath and waits for you watching nervously as you move toward her. She doesn’t know what to do, you think before you get to her – you’ll have to fix that immediately. Just a few more steps…standing toe to toe you look into her eyes, lean forward and kiss her. Softly, quickly before she can think about what is happening, she melts. As you pull away from her she says, “Hello, Love Muffin.” You smile as she grabs your hand and pulls you toward the outer doors. As she gets outside she turns and takes a longer look at you, smiling from ear to ear she says “I can’t believe you are really here. Are you still sure about this, sure about me?” You are.

You arrive at a dark blue Silverado. She unlocks the doors and climbs into the back, you get in behind her. You’d really like a shower, but there’s no time. A two-hour layover not including the 45 minutes of trying to get back into the airport through the security check. There’s too little time and too many things you want to do, to tell her, promises made that you don’t want to break. But she looks into your eyes and you know its okay. You don’t need to talk about anything. Six months of foreplay is more than enough. Even if you never see her again, today, in this very brief period of time she is yours. She has invited you into her. She unbuttons her blouse revealing a black lace bra underneath; you put your hands around her breasts bending your head to kiss the space between them, then moving upward to her neck, searching your way to her lips.

You know what you want, but you won’t last. She licks the gloss on her lips and reaches for your belt. Against your better judgment your mind is saying stop her, you aren’t in control yet, by you can’t. You don’t want her to stop. She opens the front of your pants and strokes her hands along your hardness. You’ve moved your hands to her ass, sliding them between her skirt and hose. You can feel the tiny lace thong that matches the bra, although you can’t see the color you know that it’s matching black. Her mouth still wet from kissing yours, moves to take your throbbing cock in her mouth. As her tongue licks around your shaft you can feel an explosion building when she pulls away from you. Pulling her skirt up to her hips she moves to sit facing you sliding your cock into the soft, warm wetness you’ve imagined for months. As she moves her hips up and down on your shaft you can’t stop the hot explosion from coming. She can feel you tighten and smiles, moving her lips to yours again, sucking on your tongue as you cum in her.

Not getting up she puts her arms around your neck, and her head on your shoulder and with tears in her eyes says “I’m glad you’re back home. Can I walk you back to your terminal?”