One of the best things about an evening with Mike and Don is that nobody has to wear any kind of false face for fear of disappointing anybody else's expectations. If we're getting together on an evening when one of us comes to the room with "real life" issues hanging over us, of course that's going to affect the tone of the play. We all know that we can count on the others to be supportive and understanding if things are less frenetic than usual. If Dee's in pain, it's going to be a slow, careful, and gentle evening rather than one on which we're all nearly swinging from the chandelier. (OK, we're lucky enough that the motel has lights, never mind chandeliers, but you know what I mean.) There have been evenings when we've lain around naked with Mike or Don or both doing more talking than sucking and fucking, and none of us has ever come away from such a night feeling cheated, but rather uplifted and fulfilled for having shared the time together. I don't know if Dee, Don, or Mike have noticed it themselves, but all four of us usually say, "Thank you," to each other at the end of one of our evenings together. It's almost like the litany of good nights on Walton's Mountain and there's a world of beauty in those simple expressions of appreciation for each other and the intimacy we share. (Cue harmonica. Don, if you're reading this I hope you're laughing. Everything somehow comes around full circle eventually.)
Now to mop up this little puddle of precum and find something to distract myself for the next nine and a half hours till we get to the motel...
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