It feels like we’ve been trapped inside his parents’ house for days, even though it’s been only a few hours. He had graduated and traveled home a few weeks ago. We hadn’t seen each other since then; I hadn’t felt his arms wrap around my waist or his lips brush my neck since then. A few steamy text messages and one particularly hot video chat had held us over through the weeks apart, but now we’re together and I’m dying to get him alone and feel his smooth, hard body underneath me. He had picked me up from the airport, surprising me by meeting me inside with flowers in hand. I had hardly recognized him. He had cut his hair short since I’d last seen him, and weeks in the summer sun had turned his brown hair almost blonde and his skin a luxurious gold. In the weeks we’d spent apart I’d forgotten the sheer size of him. He seemed to tower over me, and he picked me up with ease as I hugged him. We exchanged excited but subdued kisses in baggage claim, both of us nervous about making a scene in front of the other airport-goers. In the privacy of the car I was more bold, leaning over to bite playfully at his ear and kiss his neck. I ran my hand from his throat to his chest, tugging lightly at his shirt to pull him deeper into my kisses. I then placed my hand in his lap, stroking the inside of his thigh first, then travelling up to feel him harden as I licked his neck. He made me stop because he couldn’t focus on the road and I pretended to pout, but that didn’t stop him from reaching over and massaging between my legs as we continued toward his house.