Three Little Words

I put my hand over his, did my own scan of the area, and pushed the throttle until the plane eased forward. Damon’s hand felt nervous under my own, but I gave him a confident nod and taxied out of the row of parked planes.

He listened intently as I called on the radio and then waited for a Beech Bonanza to land before we taxied onto the runway itself. Takeoff and climb-out were routine, but I gave Damon a running monologue of what I was doing at each phase.

He was hooked from the start, and I felt a familiar sense of excitement as he watched and listened. We flew over the resort and inn and circled the village several times. Then I called the controller and took us up a few thousand feet to see the whole area. I let Damon try his hand at the controls. I coordinated his turns with the rudder pedals, but he had a steady hand and kept a sharp lookout the entire time he was in control.

We returned to the airport about forty minutes later. Damon’s smile stretched from wingtip to wingtip when we finally parked and cut the ignition.

“What do you think?” his mother asked as we joined them in the warmth of the FBO. “Never mind. I know that look.” She added to Christy, “His father’s the same.” To me, “Christy says you’ll be back next weekend. Do you think you can give him another lesson? We’ll pay for your time, of course, and all the expenses.”

“I don’t know if we’ll be back next weekend,” I said politely. “We both have classes and projects and all. But probably the weekend after that.”

“After Valentine’s Day?” Carolyn said, and I nodded. “We’ll have a room ready for you.”

“And I’ll pick out some skis and bindings and boots you might like,”

Damon added.

Carolyn arched an elegant eyebrow.

“We’re going to buy better equipment for Paul,” Christy explained.

“Ah. Good plan.”

“One last thing before we go,” I said to Damon. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to refuel the plane.”

When we returned to the office, I tried to give the attendant my credit card, but he shook his head and told me Carolyn had already paid. Christy gave me a look, so I simply said thank you instead of arguing. We said our goodbyes and told them we’d see them in two weeks.

Christy and I talked during the trip to Knoxville, but it was mostly chitchat to pass the time. Between that and the flight itself, I didn’t have time to brood. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case once we landed in Knoxville, and I fell silent on the drive home.

I was mildly annoyed that Christy found it so easy to spend money, mine or her father’s. I was also a little irked that she’d made plans for us without even discussing it. It didn’t matter that I’d agreed; it was the principle. She sensed my mood and knew me well enough to figure out the reason—half of it, at least.

“I know,” she said, “I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry. I was just so excited, and Carolyn was so nice, and… I get ahead of myself sometimes. Do you forgive me?”

Her apology did a lot to cool my resentment, and the money wasn’t worth an argument. Like Trip had said, why have it if I couldn’t spend it on my friends?

“Yeah, it’s okay,” I said. “I want to go too. I just wish we’d talked about it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what’s done is done. Let’s move on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I did it ’cause I really want to spend time with you. Alone, I mean. I love Wren and Trip, but…” She shrugged.

“Well, it gives them time to be alone too.” I had a thought and shot her a grin. “I wonder how many rooms they did it in this time.”

“Probably all of them.” She frowned when she realized what that meant.

“Um… except ours, I hope. And my studio.”

I glanced at her with a question.

“I have plans for that couch,” she said. “I want us to be the first to… you know.”

“The beanbags too,” I added.

“I… think I’ll say something to Wren. She won’t be happy that we still haven’t gone all the way, but that’s too bad. It isn’t her body. It isn’t her soul, either.” She paused for a moment before she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what her problem is. She’s getting everything she wants.”

“Well, she wants to have sex with both of us.”

“I know. I get it. She wants us to be swingers. But I have news for her…

it isn’t that simple. What if I don’t want some other guy? Or… what if I want you all to myself? You’re my boyfriend, dammit!”

I flashed her a grin.

“Anyway,” she continued in a calmer tone, “I’m sorry I made plans without asking.”

“We’ll survive,” I said. “At least we talked about it.”

“I guess this means we had our first fight. Or not-fight.”

“Do you think we need to not-make up?”

“Probably.”

“Well, you know what that means.” I turned onto our street and pulled into the driveway. Wren’s old car was gone—they must’ve sold it as well—

and the new Volkswagen sat in the driveway by itself. I parked behind it.

Then I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. It wasn’t hard, but I waved it at Christy anyway.

She studied me for a moment and then said, “I can’t believe I’m about to do this in public. Again! You’re a bad influence.”

“Very bad,” I agreed. “Very bad indeed.”