He looked at it, then at her. "Well, it was all I could find in the drawer," she said. "Go on, open it."Bud shredded the foil, uncovering a pale green...box marked "Ferguson's Prime Dates."Puzzled, he pulled it open. The fruit squatted in individual brown paper cups."Get it?" Kelly was giggling loudly. "Dates! 'Cause you couldn't get one any other way!" She poked him in the ribs. "Dates!" Uh, yeah, funny, Kel," Bud said through gritted teeth. Inside, he was furious, but he couldn't afford to let. Pointing out the window, Gene said, "You're going to have good flying weather. The charts say you'll have a good tailwind most of the way home. Where will you refuel and stop for the night?" I'm thinking Wichita, Pine Bluff, Tallahassee, and home."Gene was alarmed, "Are you going to try to do it in one day?"I smiled, "Oh no. We'll probably stop in Tallahassee. Instead of there, we might divert to Panama City for the night, you know how I like that place."Gene grinned real big, "That's where you. “No, I would not feel the same way. I would feel like I had just facialed a pneumatic porn star who stepped out of my television screen and that would be the end of it. Blue ball crisis averted, carry on and all that.”“Right. The physical part would have been taken care of. But there’s no psychological part to speak of. Or emotional part, maybe. This whole business about sex being 95 percent mental or whatever—that’s bullshit, I think. It’s more like 50 percent mental. But the other 50. There was a smile on my face as she looked at me and then my body lying on the ground. My manifestation gently grabbed her head and stopped her from looking back and forth. I forced her to look directly at me instead of my body on the floor. I then kissed her with a kiss that looked like it could have had stories written about it. A kiss that would have burned the dark color into a stainless steel plate just from its heat. I saw her eyes grow wide as saucers then roll up into her head. She.
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