" Don't worry, I'll tell her, but she won't have any trouble with him, I watched his first fight, He's big and strong, but slow and out of shape. He s...tarts out slowly; almost waiting for his opponent to throw the first punch. He's a football player not a fighter. I'm more concerned with the finals; I think that you're good enough to win your next two bouts, which would mean that you would face each other in the championship bout. I know you're good, but a good puncher usually beats a good. He hung the towels out in the sun to dry and then moved forward. He pulled a small cooler and duffel from storage in the bow. “Just how much stuff do you have in there?” Julie asked. “This boat is fully equipped. You would be amazed at some of the equipment tucked away in the bow.” He pulled out a varnished board and legs that assembled into a small table in front of Julie. Dave unzipped a side flap in the duffel to reveal a full set of dinnerware. It was a modern picnic basket with storage. We had plenty of offers from various guys, and a few girls but it was to be a cock night. We settled on a party of six guys who had invited us back to their place in Winchester.It was a short taxi ride there, out we got and were shown indoors. It seemed a nice big house in an up-market area of the city. The guys were probably in their thirties, all seemingly fit.Inside we were shown into the lounge, a large room with two biggish sofas and a few armchairs. Our host, Jimmy disappeared to the. We ate at a very nice, mom and pop steakhouse. The owners fawned over Mr. and Mrs. Bell like they were celebrities. The place was decorated in World War Two posters, signs, photographs and other memorabilia. It was fun and filling.Afterwards, Mr. Bell dropped us at Rebecca's office. Colleen and I went shopping while Rebecca caught up on her work. It took no time to find a pair of Nike sneakers in my size, a couple of pairs of slacks and some short sleeve shirts, along with the basic essentials.