As I round the corner and head down the ramp that leads to the airport terminal, I see you almost the same moment you see me.
My heart soars and my stomach turns to butterflies not only because I'm seeing you, my love, again after nearly a month apart, but also from seeing your reaction. Your eyes sparkle, your smile is a mile wide and you can't help but do an excited jig as I close the distance between us.
The moment I pass through the door and enter the terminal, you can't hold back. I drop my carry-on bag and catch you as you leap into my arms, kissing and hugging in a welcome-home greeting. I'm so wrapped up in the kissing that it takes me a few seconds to register that your rock-hard nipples are all but drilling holes in my chest. But when I set you down, I can't fail to notice - nor can anyone else - that you're wearing a tight t-shirt with no bra, and your tiny titties are quite prominent. You're also wearing a short denim skirt that shows off your tight butt and shapely legs, and I have a feeling the two-hour drive home might just get interesting.
But I say nothing for the moment as I pick up my bag and we head toward the baggage claim. You're oblivious to the lustful stares of every other man we see, but I'm not, and I almost feel like yelling to everyone I pass, "you may want her, but she's all mine!"
I don't blame them for lusting after you. I still do, even after 22 years of marriage and three years of courtship before that. There are two trite expressions that fit you to a T. One is, "dynamite comes in small packages," the other is a line from an old song, "5-foot-2 and eyes of blue." You might be 5-2 in your shoes, but your eyes are indeed blue, a deep, radiant blue, and your body really is dynamite. It's tight without being bony, with just a little padding in all the right places, topped by a full head of dark, curly hair cut very short.
It's a package that appealed to me just about the first time I laid eyes on you.
That would have been during your freshman year at the university, my sophomore year. Hard to believe now, but you were such a wallflower. You really didn't fit in with your sorority, and you were miserable that first year. You were considered a plain Jane, you were a relentlessly dedicated student, and your religious upbringing and your subsequent refusal to touch alcohol earned you a fair amount of scorn.
Nevertheless, you needed a date for the sorority's big spring dance that year. You would have been mortified to learn that your sorority big sister came to my fraternity house looking for anyone who would be your date. The first few guys she asked turned her down when they found out who their date would be. They wanted a date they could get drunk and try to screw. Me, I didn't have a steady girl at the time, and I didn't have any plans, so I said sure, why not? I'd never met you, never even seen you, but your big sis said you were "cute."
She arranged for us to meet at the Student Union a few days before the dance, and the first thing I saw were those eyes. They just drew me in, and the longer we talked, the more I wondered if my frat brothers had lost their minds. I couldn't believe my luck. Yes, you were quiet and kind of shy, but we seemed to connect, and the more we talked, the more you opened up. I quickly found out that you were very smart, and had a very dry sense of humor. And even from the first, I could tell that buried under the surface was a very sexy woman waiting for the right man to draw her out.
We surprised a few folks that night. For one, you looked radiant in your ball gown, with your makeup done just so. For another, we really had a great time, dancing and talking, all without the first drop of liquor. At the end of the night, when I took you back to your dorm, I pulled you to me and we kissed. It was like electric sparks crackling between us, and when it was over and I'd seen you inside, I knew I was hopelessly in love.
You weren't quite as smitten with me initially, but you were interested enough to go out with me on two more dates before the end of the school year, and interested enough to come back to the university for your sophomore year. You told me after you came back that I was the only reason you gave the college and the sorority another year.
It didn't take long for us to become a full-blown item, and I soon learned that while you may have been quiet, shy and religious, you were also a very passionate woman with the normal desires of any other 20-year-old. I learned that you loved to kiss, and that you had - still have - a hot, wet, willing mouth and an active tongue. And I sensed as the year went by that you were fighting an internal battle about sex.
I knew how serious you were about your religion. You still are, to a degree. I mean, your father's a Baptist pastor, for crying out loud, and I wasn't about push you into sex, no matter how badly I wanted you. And I wanted you very, very badly. But we got pretty adventurous as the year went by and our love deepened. I got to touch your breasts and between your legs - all safely covered by your clothes - but still, it was progress, and your hands were just as active.
We almost did it the night of the spring dance. That was the first time I actually got my hand in your panties and got my first feel of your wet pussy, and the first time you got in my slacks and felt my hardness. We were making out in my car, and if we'd had any place we could have gone, we would have crossed the threshold right then. But you weren't quite ready.
Finally, however, on our last date before the summer break, it happened, and every detail sticks out in my mind like it happened yesterday. You had moved out of the dorm the day before, and were leaving for home the next morning. I was planning on staying on campus through the summer, living at the frat house. There were a couple of classes I wanted to take that summer, and I had a part-time job that I didn't want to give up. Also, I wanted to jump on a nice apartment as soon as I could. After two years of living in the frat house, I'd had my fill of it, and my folks had agreed to let me get my own place for my senior year.
But I was still at the house, and except for the house mother and a couple of other guys, we were alone. We'd gone for pizza, then came back and sat in the living room to watch some TV. Of course, we completely ignored the TV as we started making out. You just seemed so... animated. You were a little sad and weepy because we were facing three months apart, but also excited, giddy even. We hadn't been kissing and touching more than five minutes when I had three buttons on your blouse undone and my hand was in your bra, getting my first feel of your hand-sized tits and rock-hard nipples.
You wrapped your hand around the bulge in my pants and asked me to take you up to my room.