Free Aching For It by Stanley Bennett Clay

fussed.
    “Hand me my carry-on, Sis,” I half answered breathlessly,
“in the overhead.”
    “Now you know I can’t get that thing.”
    “Ahhh!” Étie shrieked, “Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! Papi ,
Ahhh!”
    “Baby, I gotta go,” I pleaded again.
    “Just hearing your voice make my sex be for real,” he said
softly. The thought of him bathing in the afterglow of his ecstasy didn’t ease
the dilemma of wanting him, holding him, sexing him in the right here and now.
“I love you so much, Papi ,” he said, overfilling my already overfilled
heart with animal lust and unquenchable desire. My dick was about to burst out
of my pants.
    “I love you too, so much,” I moaned in a whisper as I
clicked off my phone then started searching around my seat, buying some time
for my dick to go down.
    “What are you looking for?” Frankie, already standing,
asked.
    “I…I…I just wanna make sure I didn’t leave anything.” I
began to panic as my dick stayed disobediently stiff. I had to take my mind off
Étie, a near impossibility. Think of something else, anything else!
    “Come on, Junie. We’re going to be the last ones off,” my
sister kept nagging. “Even the flight attendants are leaving.”
    “Something else, anything else,” I commanded myself.
“Sylvester Winfrey, Sylvester Winfrey, Sylvester Winfrey, Sylvester Winfrey.”
    My dick went soft immediately.
    I was cool, calm and collected as Sis and I drove down La
Brea Avenue. The Hollywood Sign glistened from the hills in the far distance
ahead of us. I could feel her eyes on me. I glanced over at her. She had the
strangest, sweetest smile on her face.
    “What?” I asked.
    “I’m just happy, Junie. I’m really happy for you.”
    “Thanks, Sis.”
    “And you know something?”
    “What?”
    “You really love that boy.”
    “Yeah, I do.”
    “The way you cussed me out, it had to be love.”
    “I’m sorry about that, Frankie.”
    “Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry for defending the honor of
someone you love.”

Chapter Twelve
     
    The next day, Wells Caitlin went over the paperwork we had
brought back from the Dominican Republic with a fine-tooth comb. He then
retrieved the paperwork he had on file, including my sworn statement as a
third-party witness to the relationship, and the all-important I-130 Petition
for Alien Relatives form. He had already filled out the Alien Relatives form
and offered it to Frankie for her verification and signature. He also had her
complete and sign off on the marital consummation section, putting pen to paper
to only a half lie, considering Frankie’s dick-grabbing assault. Yes, I did
forgive her, but I would never forget what she had done.
    Over the next two days, the Dominican documentation,
including the marriage certificate, was translated from Spanish to English,
triplicated, notarized and sent off by registered mail to U.S. Citizenship and
Immigration Services along with the required fee. Caitlin speculated that we
should hear something back within four weeks. It was the longest four weeks of
my life, but just as Caitlin had predicted, the UCIS receipt notice arrived
almost to the day. He then outlined the next step.
    “We’ll have to wait for approval of the petition. Once it’s
approved, which I’m sure it will be, based on the information submitted, it’ll
be sent to the National Visa Center. Once it’s received by the NVC, all we need
to do is wait for an immigration visa number to become available. Now that
could take a while.”
    “How long?” I asked impatiently.
    “Hard to say,” Caitlin answered, addressing Frankie, “but we
can file for a K-3 nonimmigrant visa, Mrs. Santos, which would allow your
husband to come to the United States and wait here to complete the immigration
process.”
    “And what’s the procedure for that?” Frankie asked, picking
up her cue.
    “Since you already have a spousal petition on file, the K-3
visa application is pretty simple, even though certain circumstances can