Take It - Part Two by DJ Stone & B.E. Raj

Author:DJ Stone & B.E. Raj [Stone, DJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-11-14T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

My date with Pierce begins well. We drive for twenty minutes, chatting away pleasantly, until we leave the highway to journey another mile or so into the country. Inwardly, I begin to groan. Not another picnic. At last we turn off the road, and I see a huge expanse of grass, dirt, and asphalt spread out before me. When I look at Pierce, questions popping up on my face, he tells me this used to be the local airfield. Now, he proudly declares, it's his. There is no one in sight. The back of his pickup could easily be made into a bed. I know the odds are slim he’s changed his mind, but I hold onto hope.

A few minutes later I have my first clue, and it dashes my hope for us pleasuring each other under the hot sun. He goes to the back of his pickup and pulls out a couple folding chairs, a battered old card table, and a decal-decorated wooden box with some sort of silvery grey gizmo nestled in the center. Staring at its row of dials and two dominating toggle switches, I still have no idea what it is until he gently pulls out the telescoping antenna. "It's a radio-control thingy," I exclaim, trying to look excited.

"It's a transmitter," he mumbles as he dives back into the bed of his pickup and carefully removes the blanket he'd thrown over something. When he emerges, he’s proudly holding the cutest little airplane I've ever seen. "How pretty." I laugh. I’m not trying to be patronizing; I genuinely mean it. It’s really beautiful.

"Lady Esther is an RTF floatplane. An accurate replica of a DHC-2 Beaver."

I barely manage to choke down a giggle at Pierce's innocent sexual reference. If I weren’t so painfully horny my brain wouldn’t go into middle-school-boy mode. I’m not sure Harrison and I could have gotten past the word beaver without some kind of crude joke having us bent over in laughter. But then again, I think if Harrison were here, those planes would only leave the bed of the truck so he and I could get in and make good use of the blanket.

"Beavers are hardly pretty. They're one of the workhorses Bush pilots use up in Canada and Alaska."

I'm about to sputter myself into hysterics but this is clearly something very special to Pierce. He’s sharing something with me that means something to him.

Instead, I try to show interest, wisely asking him about the controller thingy. He tells me it's a SLT 6-channel transmitter-receiver and then gives me a basic run-through, showing me how to use the toggles for elevator control and throttling up or down. As if I'm going to fly his toy.

Within five minutes, he's placed the plane in a small man-made pond, and it’s speeding across the glittering ripples. Using his controller to bring his seaplane streaking up into the air, I can see the excitement he feels, watching his plane take off.

As he puts his plane through

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