. curiosity. Can you let me into the cockpit?”I’m talking with a guy who loves what he’s doing. “Sure! Come on!”I stood up. “Mizz Shirley, can I leave my computer here for a bit? I wanna see Mister Geno’s Citation.”“Sure, hon,” she said.Walking out to the plane I asked, “How do you reconcile a given name of Luigi with a surname of Haugen?”“Mom was all about loving Italian culture. Dad just let ‘er name me Luigi, then nicknamed me Geno.”He opened the Airstair entrance, then stood back. “You go first. I’m sure you can find your way to the cockpit.”I bounded up the stair and into the cockpit. He was a bit slow, but followed me. “Wowwww,” I said. “I’ve seen pictures...”He smiled. “Go ahead. Sit in the left seat.”I did. I thought my 402 was rather luxurious, but this thing – the passenger compartment was PLUSH, all leather, and they didn’t stop spending money when they got to the cockpit door. I sat down. Wiggled.“Hang on,” he said, sliding into the right seat. “Let’s power up the panel.”. I hungrily slurped up, gaged in, and stretched over ’s cock with such passion that I couldn’t control my efforts.“Whoa, son,” Candy said and softly stroked my back. “We got lots of time; besides, ya just might make me cum a bit too soon.”“Oh, no, Candy, I don’t want that,” I said, in a too high octave, and before I could say more, he pushed my head back down.Demonstrative, masculine-ly adept, and expertly maneuvered, his motion from my cock to my hole sent shudders from my head to my toes. His tongue, wet and savvy, found unexplored flesh, push it aside and moved into depths I didn’t know existed. I was in rapture.“Get up on all fours,” he commanded.“Okay, Cowboy,” I said in slurry seduction.“Call me Candy, son,” he said with a tenderness that melted me.In that moment, I became his boy.“Okay, Candy, I’ll do whatever you want, I said between the intense sensations of his efforts. “Do what you want with my body, Candy; it’s yours.”“Well, work my ole cock some more, son, while I think.
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