Meeting You

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I had been hyper-aware of everything from the minute that I saw you. We met in baggage claim and I knew immediately it was you. My body knew too. All of the online conversations, calls, phone sex had just been a warm-up for this, the actual meeting. I hadn’t been sure what to wear and settled on a long-sleeved white t-shirt with a light blue skirt that hit above the knee, and, of course, heels. The outfit was a tad conservative but you didn’t know yet that I wasn’t wearing any panties. That was still my secret.

We hugged … which turned into a kiss … which turned into you grabbing my ass with your big hands, pulling me closer to you … which turned into an awareness of being in the middle of a crowded airport terminal on a Friday night. As we broke apart, I blushed, but smiled knowing that you were as aroused as I was.

The airport is notoriously slow when it comes to returning bags and the wait seemed even longer this time. We chit-chatted, laughed, tried to do anything but look like we weren’t ready to fuck as soon as we had the chance. Soon enough, though, you found your bag on the carousel and we left the airport, crossed the few streets to the parking garage, and headed to my car.

It was about 10 p.m., and while the interior of the airport was busy, the parking garage was practically deserted. Full of cars, devoid of people. I was too buzzed on horniness to think clearly, but I shouldn’t have worried, because you had a plan.

I unlocked the trunk of my car and stepped behind the door so you could hoist your bag inside. Peering into the car, you asked if the middle row of seats folded down. I said that they did and asked if your bag was too large for the trunk. I laughingly pointed out that I even emptied the trunk so there would be room.

“I want to make sure there’s room for you,” you said, looking directly at me, and I stopped laughing. While I stood there, you went first to the driver’s side and then the passenger’s, folding the middle row of seats flat. Then you came back to me, stood behind me, and pushed me gently towards the car. I could feel your breath on my neck as you lightly nipped at my skin, right where my neck and collarbone met. I sighed. I felt your hands on my hips as you lifted me up, into the trunk, and as I kneeled, you scrambled in behind me, pulling the door shut.

Without a word, you kissed me, hands on my face, drawing me closer. Somehow, you ended up on top of me, lifting my shirt up to reach my full breasts. The breasts that you had seen so many times before, but now, here they were, hard nipples begging to be touched, licked and sucked. You didn’t disappoint … one at a time, you lifted each breast out of my bra, the cups crumpled beneath my flesh. I moaned loudly as you bit down on my right nipple, nipping and licking. I squirmed, but from pleasure, not pain. You might as well have been licking my cunt, the way my pussy juices were flowing. My hands were tangled in your hair, pulling, grabbing, wanting more.

Your mouth moved to my left breast; you used one hand to hold it steady while I felt your other hand on my left thigh. Your fingers moved up, up, up and when you reached my damp slit, it dawned on you that I wasn’t wearing panties. I not only heard your groan, but I felt the vibrations of the sound on my nipple, and I shuddered. You lightly dipped a finger into my cut, to open me, and moaned again at the feel of my wetness. “You make me this wet,” I whispered,“This is all from you.”

I was so close to cumming, just from your mouth on my tits, that I knew I wouldn’t last long if you licked me. But that didn’t stop you. You pushed up my skirt and positioned yourself between my legs. I don’t know how we both fit like that, but we did. At the first touch of your hot tongue on my cunt, I screamed. You licked from bottom to top, going up and over my clit. I couldn’t tell you how many times you repeated this movement, because I was too busy cumming. With one hand on my stomach, you held me down and continued licking as my entire body shook and I cried out. You knew just how to draw my orgasm out of me and it rumbled on and on. I could hear the slurping sounds as you eagerly drank my juices and, finally, it was over.

Breathing heavily, I opened my eyes; I couldn’t even speak. Still panting, I got on my hands and knees, looked over my shoulder and said three words: “Fuck me. Now.” Half dressed, my breasts hanging over my bra, my skirt around my waist, I was ready to be fucked by you. I heard you unzip your pants then we both moaned as your hard-as-steel dick parted my pussy lips and you began to slide inside me. My cunt was hot, wet and swollen, and I still felt spasms from my orgasms … and you groaned as you felt them too.

At first you were slow, going in inch by inch, as you stretched my pussy. I felt so full. In …. and out … and in … and out … I wanted so badly to slam my ass back onto your cock. But I waited. As you continued your slow rhythm, I began to move my hips, drawing you in further. I felt a sharp, stinging slap on my ass, and again, we both groaned. I turned to look over my shoulder at you, and asked, “Are you gonna give it to me?” “How much do you want?” you asked, and, in between pants, I told you that I was ready for all you had.

And you gave it to me.

Pumping your cock into me, you pounded my pussy beyond belief. I felt your hands on my hips for support as you thrust, and it was all I could do to hang on for the ride. I felt a few of your fingers sliding down my skin and when you touched my clit, I screamed, “I’m cumming!” and squeezed your cock as I came. You started to cum and when I felt your hot load shoot inside me, I came again. We were screaming, groaning, cumming, and it felt fucking fabulous.

We sat there, me on my hands and knees, you draped across me, for several seconds, until we caught our breath. Laughing and panting, I said, “Welcome to Indy.”

So, Ryan, find something else to jack off to, ‘k? Thanx.