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As he rang the bell, Dave wondered what would be on the agenda tonight apart from the beer. Not that he needed to think hard. His dick was doing the thinking for him, as it strained at Matt's Calvins inside his jeans. Once inside the flat, the two guys kissed passionately and let their tongues explore the now well known recesses of their mouths. Steve was already stripped to his briefs - white Jockey ys, Dave noted approvingly. He'd be taking them home later. Dave stripped off too – his jeans came off as fast as Chad Python’s horse-dick going up a bum in a Chi Chi LaRue movie.Steve gave Dave a can of lager and the two mates sat for a while drinking and talking. Their briefs were tented like fucking marquees, but they hadn’t seen one another for a few days and Dave in particular had something to get off his tits. He told Steve all about Matt, ending up with the gift and how he’d used it. Dave was well endowed, but pulling the Calvins down his legs just a bit, he showed Steve the. Kissing my 'boo-boos' she calls it." Right. This is a hell of a thing Dan. I'm fucking incapacitated..." I couldn't do it any longer. He was too easy, still feeling guilty about letting her get away at the party. I started to grin.He leaped to his feet, and hit me in the shoulder. "You son-of-a-bitch! You're fucking with me?"Normally a love tap like that wouldn't have bothered me in the least, but it made me twist my torso, and I could swear somebody stuck the knife in my back all over again. The pain must have been reflected in my face. I saw him step back nervously."Shit! God, I'm sorry. I keep screwing up. You Ok?" he asked, slowly moving forward again.I carefully rolled onto my back, moving slowly. "Fuck, that hurts," I groaned, as I tried to find a comfortable position."Should I call the nurse?" Gimme a sec." I sighed, shifted my shoulder slightly until the pain was reduced to a dull roar. "No more hitting, alright?" It was an accident. I swear. You shouldn't be screwing with me.
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We ate dinner, and went to bed early. Sleep came sometime later, with us curled up in each other’s arms.By Thanksgiving, Jo had finished her airshow schedule for the season. We had purchased an RV-14A aircraft, painted to match her Extra, so I could fly with Jo to the airshows. As fall gave way to winter, the weather allowed fewer flying days, and we turned our attention to a new home.“Look at this,” Jo said one morning as she clicked through a local real estate website. “There’s a private strip for sale about thirty miles from here.” I walked up and peered over her shoulder. “It’s a big chunk of land, with several plots. It looks like they bought up the area around the approach ends of the runway, and along the sides.”“We’d have to sell a couple of properties to afford it,” I said as I sipped my coffee. “It is nice, though, and it’s subdivided, too.”Jo contacted our company’s realtor, and we arranged to visit the property that same day. We drove to the site, which was located off a.

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