I met Randy a few years ago when she started dating a friend of mine. There was definitely a little chemistry between us and on more than one occasion I caught her looking my way with "fuck me" eyes. Nothing ever really happened beyond the occasional "accidental" grope. Eventually I graduated college and moved to Atlanta, while she moved to Oregon. I assumed she would fall into that long list of girls that I could have fucked if circumstances had worked in my favor.
Lord bless the Internet. Somehow she got my e-mail address and sent me a "hey what are you up to these days" letter. We started sending e-mails back and forth. It seemed every one of them had sexual overtones but were never too explicit. After a couple of months, she sent me an excited letter saying she had to come to Atlanta on business and asked if I would like to get together for drinks. Considering I'm between girlfriends (unfortunately not literally), I of course responded with an emphatic "yes."
The Friday she was to arrive, I took a half day off work to make sure everything at my apartment was presentable. I had to pick her up at the airport around six. Hartsfield these days is a madhouse (like it wasn't bad enough before). So there I was at the terminal trying to spot her through the massive amounts of people milling around. Suddenly I was grabbed from behind.
"Hey there sugah," she whispered in my ear.
I turned around to see Randy for the first time in years. She looked great. When I'd known her before, she'd been a little "plumpy." Now, her frame fit nicely with her 5'10" voluptuous body. Her long black hair hung down over her exposed cleavage. She was wearing a black dress that really hugged her curves. I smiled like a kid their first time in Toys-R-Us.
"Damn Randy it's good to see you," I responded as I pulled her into a tight hug. I held her a few seconds enjoying the feel of her breasts pressing into me. When we pulled back I continued to hold her waist and had to fight the feeling of leaning in for a passionate kiss. After all, it had been a long time since I'd last seen her, and I didn't want to rush. We just smiled at each other and held the moment.
"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," I finally spoke.
On the ride back to my house we caught up, hitting the highlights of each other's lives. I kept one eye on the road and the other alternating between staring at her skirt that had ridden well past mid thigh and at her breasts that were half-exposed as she turned towards me during the conversation (and yes, I'm well aware that women know exactly what they're doing in these matters).
When we got to my place, I asked if I could help her bring her bags up. This was critical because she had yet to mention a hotel.