“Are you writing beat poetry?” I laughed. We moved together, enjoying sliding in and out as we kissed and fondled.“I have an inspiration in me. ... love you, Jacob.”“Yes,” I hissed. “I will always love you.” We were too focused on each other and making love to continue our conversation. Sometimes, making love to Donna was a long conversation simply punctuated with orgasms. This night, we were focused on each other’s pleasure and conversation came in phrases rather than paragraphs.“You know .... Follow me along.”She reached for the key ... I slapped her hand.“We’re going nowhere until you run the list,” I said.Big Grin!“See, you can learn something,” she said. “Old dog and new tricks.”“Youngster, I’ll have you know, you can trust me. I won’t be thirty until next May.”“I thought you were 40,” she said.We bounced out. The checklist wasn’t very long but it was long enough. The glass fuel tank water trap under the wing was full and there was still water pouring out. I waited.Gasoline.I. More

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