Erica had been a friend of mine for a couple years. We met back in our freshman year of college- I was going to be an astronomer, and she was going strong for a graphical design degree. We hit it off pretty well, and probably would have wound up going out if she didn't already have a boyfriend. She met him online, and he lived in Rhode Island- pretty far away from our Arizona lodgings. I'd mentioned that I was against long distance relationships, but she seemed happy with him and I wasn't going to burst her bubble.
After freshman year, she decided to pack up everything and move up there to live with him. Yeah, just as you'd expect, the two of them couldn't actually make it work when forced to live in close quarters. They were going to stick it out anyways, at least until they finished college, but he started dating other girls and bringing them home- we're pretty sure it was just to keep her jealous.
Fast-forward six months, and you've got today. She shipped all her stuff back here, and hopped on a plane back- well, two planes if you count the connecting flight. And she just happened to call her old, reliable friend Wyatt to pick her up from the airport, which I was more than happy to do. And I'd do my best to avoid any "I told you so"s, at least for a while.
Amazingly enough, the plane was on time. She was one of the first ones off- must have been in a hurry to get away from the mammoth with the muumuu, hauling herself out of the airplane right behind her.
She spotted me and smiled, her whole face lighting up. Her raven hair glinted in the airport halogens, her dark eyes glinting. I'd nearly gotten lost in those eyes once before, over Chinese takeout and terrible sci-fi movies. Her figure had finished filling out; large (for her size) breasts that looked deliciously firm, and that I only dreamed of testing the theory; the perfect ass that screamed to be smacked, the long legs that she diligently kept shaven.
She dropped her carryon at our feet and threw her arms around me. Yeah, just about as firm as I was expecting. I hugged her back, my left arm landing smack in the middle of the 'no fly' zone on a woman's back; I'm a fairly tall guy, so I can always plead, "That's just where my arms landed, I'm sorry," if anyone ever calls me on it. But nobody ever has, so I just keep doing it.
Finally, she let go of me and retrieved her bag. "Let's get out of here fast, I hate the smell of airports." Luckily her bags wound up on the first pass at the luggage carousel, and we were out of the place in less than five minutes.
I led the way to my car; nothing fancy, a Dodge Neon that I picked up secondhand- only had fifty thousand miles on it, though, and was a real deal. I put her luggage in the trunk as she caught me up on everything that had happened to her I was unaware of- not much, as it were, since we talked pretty frequently over IM. I just basked in the sound of hearing her talk again. I'll admit it, it may sound cheesy, but her voice was like the burbling of a river creek- soft and relaxing.
Traffic leaving the airport was fairly slow, seeing as how it was nearly two in the morning. Luckily, I'd had these two days off work, so the sleeping schedule shift wasn't terrible- I'm a cashier at the local grocery store, but I've been there long enough that I can basically pick my own hours.
She rambled on the whole time about people and places I'd probably never experience. I didn't mind; when I'm alone with a girl, especially one I have or had feelings for, I just shut down- I'd much rather hear about them than tell them about me, as I don't think I'm terribly impressive. But she talked enough for both of us, and I caught up on the minutiae that I'd missed out on.
It was only another fifteen minutes to my place. I live on my own in a studio apartment a few miles from campus; I'd tired of the roommate game, and it was much easier to keep it clean when I was the only one making messes. Nobody else was able to put her up short-term, so I offered my place, noting that it'd be pretty cramped. She didn't mind, and said she'd be finding her own place quickly and just needed a tree branch to alight on in the meantime. I love birds and I love metaphors, so that pretty much cinched the deal.
We managed to get all her stuff up the stairs in one try, which was fairly impressive in and of itself. I'd made up a bed on the sofa, and had still yet to decide who was taking what- my gentlemanly side demanded that I yield the bed, but the asshole in me said she wasn't paying for the apartment, she could damn well sleep on the couch.
When she took off her sweater, though, my inner asshole let out a long, sharp whistle and the gentlemanly side merely babbled incoherently. She was excruciatingly well toned, and was wearing a white wife beater over a gray sports bra. And she must really have been cold, because she was standing almost as sharply at attention as I was, myself. I don't know if she felt me staring, or just correctly interpreted my sudden silence- she turned and flashed me a smile. "That was a long flight- got anything to drink?"
"Yeah, some milk and OJ. Or some Mike's if you're looking for a sleep aid." She snagged one of the hard lemonades and deftly twisted off the cap, then drained half of it in one go. She raised an eyebrow at my disbelieving stare. "Of course, if you just want to get hammered, there's tequila in the freezer."
She laughed. I forgot how amazing her laugh was; she smiled using her whole face, her chest rising and falling magnificently. "I haven't been drunk in a while, and still need to see you trashed. Whip me up some alcohol, Barista!"
I'd worked at Starbucks for about a year, and still kept my apron hanging in the kitchen for when I did dishes. Mockingly, I put it on, and started making a pitcher of margaritas to blend. She finished the rest of her bottle and busied herself with unpacking.
The drinks were ready in short order, and I brought the pitcher to my coffee table- a misnomer, I can't stand the taste of coffee- in front of the couch. I turned on the TV and flipped to the Sci-Fi channel, our old standby, noticing as I did that she was loading underwear into the half of the dresser she was borrowing- definitely saw some pink and black lace. I salted our glasses and poured out two large glasses- and I have a heavy hand when mixing drinks, so these would get us fairly drunk in short order. She finished unpacking and wandered over to the couch, snagging a bag of chips off the counter on her way.
