Then a few more while he was fishing that same wrench out from under the diesel engine. They were in French and Vietnamese and had a lot to do with mo...hers, fathers, sisters and excrement ... and goats and water buffalo.“What?” I asked.Scottie blushed and told me.Of course I had to practice pronouncing them until I got it right, I’m a guy ... proper use of obscenities is a guy thing. The Vietnamese was something I could use and get away with.“Recipe for rice with sesame and peanuts,” I. I tried reading, but couldn’t focus on my eReader. Not even on Kenneth Rexroth, John Dunne or Pablo Neruda. The anticipation made my heart race and was setting every nerve ending in my body flashing, making me feel tingly, nervous and excited. I knew I would see him, but when? And what would I expect when I landed? I finally succumbed to a cocktail to calm my nerves. I could have used two, but I didn’t want to be tipsy when I got off the plan, or worse, tired. The last glimpses of light backlit. She waited there, controlling her impatience with effort and deep breaths that lifted and lowered those perfect breasts, while my mind span like a washer-dryer.Her – his? – cock was a little smaller than mine, both shorter and thinner, but it was still undeniably a penis. As often happens, it was a darker shade than the skin around it. I could see the purple traceries of veins running up the surface. A few traces of hair could be seen on the scrotum, but the whole pubic area around it had been. “John.” She says, with no sleepiness left in her tone. Brooke turns to him, and runs both her hands down his chest, sliding her hands under his shirt, and scratching lightly at his abs. Groaning, he takes off his shirt, slowly kicking off his shoes, as he wraps one arm around her and pulls her close. “Damned tease..” He groans, voice full of lust, after not seeing Brooke for 10 months. Barefoot and shirtless, he leans forward, and kisses her passionately, her bright blue eyes opening widely as.