MILEAGE

Chapter 1
Part Some. 

  Our return was nothing short of dramatic just as our departure was- always was. Not knowing when our heartbeats would collide again or if they even would for that matter intensified our long overdue- be it days or months in between it is always long overdue- meet and greets. Hands clasping forearms and then shoulders and then a full-on embrace, so that I can smell the oils on her neck and feel her gentle curls against my lips, her lips grazing my earlobes. As silly as it sounds, I feel like I can purr with pleasure. I pull away so I can look into her eyes as they wander from mine to my lips, chest, stomach, thighs and back to the depths of my eyes. 

  "Captain," I say, because I can't get anything else out. I wanted to kiss her passionately, I wanted to exchange I love you's, I wanted her to climb on top of me and let me hold her that way until she shook and cried out and then have her do it to me but all I could get out was "Captain". 

  She was stunning standing there with the world frozen around her curly hair sloppily plopped up into a bun, a sweatshirt, boyfriend jeans and beige Chucks. Naturally beautiful. 

  She chuckled and gave me another once over. This time I noticed a twinkle in her green eyes. 

  "Tiki," she said, and smiled. 

  I felt a presence approaching behind me and knew the sentimental moment was over. Catherine looked up behind me and reached out to pull him into a hug. 

  "Catherine," he almost sung. "Baby." 

  It always killed me to see her face when my father called her that but today I fought to catch a glimpse of that slight grimace that appeared and disappeared in a flash. 

  "Manny," she said softly. 

  I farted. 

  Suddenly, the affect that she had on me ceased and the airport became alive again. Manny grabbed her bags and followed them to the parking lot. 

  The first half of the ride was Catherine chatting about the sights she'd seen and people she'd met on her trip- she loved the rumored and confirmed rainy weather in London, the beautiful, fashion indulged Italian women with their bronze sun kissed skin and exotic eyes, described the women of Brazil and compared them to the women of the Netherlands. I had so many questions- not just about countries, cultures and women, but me. How much did you miss me, Captain? Kissing me, holding me, etc? Were those Italians or Brazilians or Swiss women better than me? I could hear myself asking the last question and see her rolling her eyes and smirking. Then, she would've put her hand on my thigh and squeezed. That would be her answer. 

  Usually picking her up at the airport was our time, but this time my father wanted to do the honors. She finally came in on a Saturday that he was off work and able to go. As annoying and intruding as it was I couldn't fault him for wanting to pick up his fiancée turned girlfriend from a trip that lasted months. He missed her as much as I did and saved her from the barrage of questions she had to face from me every time. She would cunningly avoid certain ones, such as the "were they better than me" questions, almost making me feel as though she actually may have fucked some women overseas. I could never tell and I quit pondering on it. I just enjoyed her as thoroughly as I could before she was off on another mission. 

  Seeing her hand limply intertwined in my father's made me nauseous for the first ten minutes into the ride. By the time we pulled into the driveway I was used to it all over again and ready to get out the house and- as much as I wanted to be wrapped up in her beautiful caramel body with her juices drizzling all over my tongue- away from her. 

  After gathering Catherine's things and getting her settled I decided to hop in the car and ride around a little bit and spend unnecessary money on clothes. As I finished adjusting my hair in the rear view, the passenger door opened and closed and there was Catherine, smiling at me, her green eyes stealing my reaction. 

  I didn't give her the satisfaction of having a full reaction. I pulled out the drive and headed to my secret strip. 

  Along the ride, Catherine's hand played up my thigh as it did almost out of habit. She let her fingers twirl around my belt loops before the unbuttoned my pants button, unzipped my fly and crept inside. The flood of warmth that took over was made apparent by the flush of color on my face and the accidental tap on the breaks. 

  Instead of discouraging her, this only lead her to bite her bottom lip, lick her top one and toll her fingertips around the wetness she could almost get to. The lower she moved, the more I sat up in my seat. Eventually, she gave up and I pulled into a convenient spot in front of the strip. 

Catherine held my hand as we walked down to the last store, smiling and talking more about her trip. She talked with more excitement than usual, and that twinkle was back in her eye. I couldn't help but feel funny about this trip but I chalked it up as insecurity and dismissed the thought, enthusiastically encouraging her to spill the beans on her trip and partaking in her happy chatter. 

  "Tiki!" Sammy called out to me as I walked in to her shop. She reached over the register to shake my hand and winked at Catherine. "Captain!" she greeted. "How was the trip?" 

Sammy was my loyal friend- I don't quite believe in claiming 'best friends', especially at my age. We grew up together, figured out how gay we were together, graduated back in '07 together, we even dated sets of twins. Sammy was my partner in crime and the closest person to me. However, we both know the deal- the rule that we live by is trust no one. 

  Catherine smiled at Sammy and wandered around the store. Sammy came around from behind the register and greeted me again with a firm hug. She brushed some hair out of her face with a sweeping hand gesture that always seemed to charm the ladies along with her piercing blue eyes and basketball player height and slender athletic build. 

  "Yo, Tiki, what's up?" She looked over at Catherine to make sure she was out of earshot. "Yo, Tiki, Cap is looking mad good. Like, fuckin, I don't know, a young green eyed Jada or something. Why she look so fuckin happy?" 

  "Because she's happy to see me, nigga," I replied coolly. 

  "You? Is it you she's happy to see?" She raised an eyebrow. As if on cue, Catherine turned around. "And look at that ass, Tiki. You nor your father"- I winced at this- "have thrashed that in months so why is that thang so fat? You gave her the welcome home di-" Catherine walked over and grabbed my arm. 

  "Watch me try this on?" she asked seductively and all the bullshit Sammy placed in my mind was replaced by fantasies. 

  "Okay," I answered, following her to the dressing rooms. There, she pulled me inside a room and kissed me passionately and lustfully, so intense that I could feel myself dampening. I pulled her curly bun back and began kissing her neck and earlobes, reaching around to grab her plump, round ass that still managed to stand out in her faded jeans. Her breaths got heavier as I squeezed tighter and she slipped her hands under my shirt and let them slide down my back. Her touch gave me chills and I pulled off her shirt. She had on no bra and the most beautiful, perky breasts. I lent in and let my tongue flicker over her hard nipple, grabbed the other breast in my hand and massaged gently. I felt her head fall back and her fingers playing with her zipper. Shortly after, her pants fell to the floor and I got on my knees and slowly pulled her blue panties down. She shaved. 

  Catherine almost always shaved- except when she went on a trip. She maintained a clean bikini line but always grew her strip out when she was away. Today she stood in front of me, eyes rolled back, hand in the back of my head, clean shaven, anticipating that sensation when the warmth from my mouth meets her lips and clit. I couldn't. I stood up, kissed her forehead. 

  "I'll wait out here for you in that dress," I muttered and stepped out the room before I can see her reaction or face interrogation for my actions. I heard her sigh just as I left. 

  I sat on the couch in the "den" section of my room, channel surfing. There was nothing on TV worth watching or maybe there was, but my haunting thoughts were preventing me from seeing any of that. I noticed the same things that Sammy noticed. I noticed the glow. There was personal upkeep. But what really fucked my mind up was- did my dad notice these things, too? I changed the channel, pressing the up button so hard my finger cramped. Finally, I hit off. 

  At that moment, like a dream, Catherine glided down the stairs in a white t-shirt and boxers.