A short hop homeward

Veevee came out of the airport restroom and walked to Hank, looking a little pink-faced.

"Our plane's about to board," Hank said. "Now's the time to volunteer to stay over," he said. "They're a little overbooked."

"Oh dear," she said. "I'd hoped we'd have a little more time here. But let's just go home."

"Let's do it, then," Hank said.

They boarded the plane and settled down into their seats in the quiet, dim back of the aircraft. Soon after takeoff, Veevee was asleep. She dreamed.

Veevee had them drop her off a block away so the rumble of the old V-8 engine wouldn't wake her mom and dad. She walked quietly toward the darkened house and smiled. Nobody up, so she could use the front door with the lock and hinges she kept lubricated for silence. Her legs trembled and her nerves sang from all the glorious, hard, deep fucking she'd had tonight. She praised the Lord that she didn't have to slip in the window but could just tiptoe in and fall into bed and sleep satisfied for once. Well, maybe she'd jill herself one last time.

Veevee went up the steps to the broad porch, key in hand.

A soft cough to her side startled her. The porch swing creaked softly.

"Weed?"

Her dad had waited up for her.

"Daddy?"

"Letter for you today. Thick packet. You're in, girl. Scholarship the first year, and after if you hold your grades up."

"Oh Daddy!"

"Hush, don't wake your ma," he said.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him. "I did it!"

He hugged her. "I don't know how you do it, Weed," he said. "You do what you damned well please and still end up with the blue ribbon. Don't mess this one up or it'll kill your ma."

Veevee laughed softly. "Hasn't yet," she said.

"Not for lack of you trying. God may look after fools, children, and girls with more natural gifts than sense but sooner or later you'll catch him napping. Your ma's a nurse, not a resurrectionist."

She giggled. "Daddy, do you know what that really means?"

"Yes, Weed, and she will dig you right up to tell you she told you so."

She buried her face in his shoulder to stifle another giggle.

Her father sniffed, then sniffed again. "Huh. Well, at least you haven't been drinking."

"Daddy?"

"You reek of cut grass and tarweed and since I don't expect rolling in compost is your idea of fun, what it really is is cock juice and some other young lady's cunt."

"Daddy!"

"You'd be surprised at what I can smell, now that I've quit smoking. Now wash your face and hustle your pretty backside to bed."

"Daddy..." she pleaded.

"I mean it, Weed. Off to bed. Give a man some peace."

Veevee kissed him on the cheek and entered the house. She could smell her mother's cooking and the lemon oil she used to polish the furniture. She looked out the front window. Her father was still sitting on the porch swing, rocking gently. She watched him in the dim evening light, slowly letting her keyed-up nerves relax. He took out his handkerchief and laid it on the seat by his side, then stopped the swing rocking and held still for a minute with his head cocked, listening. All Veevee could hear was the faint sound of the crickets. Then her father opened his trousers. There was enough light to see how hard his erect penis was as he started stroking it. She gasped and a warm shiver ran through her.

A chime sounded and Veevee opened her eyes with a jerk.

Hank put his hand over hers from the next seat over. "You all right, sugar?" he asked.

Veevee breathed, coming back to the present as she took in the sights and sounds of the airliner cabin. "Yes hon, just d-dreaming."

Hank smiled. "Hope it was a nice one."

"Uh-huh. My dad was telling me I made it into college. Even if I didn't earn it," she said. "Really a memory, mostly."

"I like your mom and dad," Hank said. "Even if they pretend you were a holy terror."

Veevee laughed. "Oh, I was, I was. That was what my dad was on me about in the dream. He was waiting up for me and, ah, caught a whiff of me and could tell I was having too much fun."

Hank laughed. "I thought you told me there was no such thing."

The pilot announced their plane's final approach to the airport. Hank and Veevee held hands and looked quietly at each other as the plane descended, bumped down, and slowed down till it could taxi to the terminal.

Hank and Veevee filed up the jetway ramp and into the quiet of their hometown airport at midnight.

"Hope our bags make it," Hank said.

"Well, the big one we might not see for a couple of weeks, they told us," Veevee said.

"Right. Oh well, we're home, I'll survive without my full set of Hawaiian shirts," Hank said.

Veevee laughed. "Do you know if Jim and Sally were on the flight?" she asked, referring to their cruise partners and frequent sexual swinging companions, the Walkers.

"They were on our first leg," Hank said, "And I saw them in the waiting area. But we were overbooked, so I don't know if they made it. Or Peter and Sandy," Hank said, mentioning Jim and Sally's son and his girlfriend.

"I'm glad Peter and Sandy are joining the club," Veevee said. "They're really cute together."

Hank nodded. "I'm glad Sandy's sister got them hooked up. Even if it was a big surprise for Peter."

Veevee laughed. "Walking in on Mom and Dad hosting a swinging party," she said. "He was the best possible sport, I'll have to give him that."

Hank smiled. "Probably Peter and Sandy will want to take a break from the parties if they get really serious together," he said.

Veevee winked. "Maybe. Or maybe they're just a natural party couple, even more than you and me."

They descended an escalator and turned the corner into the baggage claim area.