A Little Something in Common

"What's it like?"

"Typical pasture: wide open spaces, bare ground and the occasional problem tree; nowhere to hide at all."

"So how do we get over there?" She asked in all seriousness.

"Well, we can go back up to the main gate and ride back down here on the road. Then we can go through the gap on the other side. Or you can chance the poison ivy and cut through here."

She pondered the idea, rubbing my leg a little too long with her thumb before starting the ATV and tearing off up the hill toward the barn and the main gate.

As we passed the gate and turned down the county road all the clothes we had on between the two of us were two pairs of tennis shoes. If I thought she had been going fast in the pasture, her speed down the road revised that idea. I screamed in her ear and stood up, trying my best to get the feeling of the wind on my body. I held her shoulders as we shot down the tiny road, the ATV dancing on the loose gravel.

I guess that I should have been thinking about safety. The road was narrow with deep ditches on either side and the caliche covering would be anything but forgiving to bare skin. But couldn't help but think about the fun I was having. The risks we were taking, both to our health and our social standing in this tight, conservative farm community were far from my mind when we passed the gate and sped farther and farther down the road toward my creek and the river far beyond.

She could see the gate to the pasture as we passed it and pointed it out as we went by. The road here was really one lane and the bridge over my creek was an even narrower, wooden affair with a sign announcing the maximum weight limit that the bridge could carry. Boards clacked under out wheels as we crossed the bridge. As we climbed up the steep hill on the other side of the creek I wondered what we would find. Sharon yelled and whooped as we topped the hill twisting the throttle harder for more speed.

On the far side of the hill the world seemed to open up in the moonlight. The fence rows were clear and before us spread a plain that seemed to reach forever in the moonlight, a light that cast everything in a bluish glow. As we sped down the narrow lane she stood up with me and I pulled her silky body close to mine.

We tried to talk to each other, somehow share the exhilaration of our experience, but the wind carried our voices away. Pushing on through the night we started down another hill that led to the river. The road dead ended and only empty deer camps and one house populated the landscape. Despite the risk of being caught I was sure that we were safe as we sped past Old Man Cotton's farm, which was dark in sleep, and down to the river landing.

Unlike the fields we had crossed, the river landing was shaded by ancient oaks and giant cottonwood trees. There we stopped for a minute and walked around in the dappled light. Someone had had a beer party a few weekends before and there was litter here and there, one of the all too common blights of country living.

As I kicked a bottle I looked over at Sharon standing not too far from me, watching the river pass in the moonlight. Frogs called against the night. For a moment I watched her, then I called and waved her to me.

She walked into my arms and I pulled her to me. She tucked her head into my shoulder and as our hands wandered over each other's bodies I thought I could hear her sniff in my ear. I pulled her away and looked at her face, a face barely visible in the darkness.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Perfect." She wiped a tear from her eye and laughed a nervous laugh. "I've always wanted to do this. I mean live this way. You know?"

"I know." I told her as I pulled her to me and tucking my hands into the groove where those long legs met her ass.

We hugged, or should I say cuddled for a very long while and when we were done kissed each other on the cheek.

"Come on." I told her. "I know where there is a bar serving nudists."

We pulled apart and I took the controls of the ATV. (She was far too reckless!) We left the shade of the trees and started out across the moonlit plain. As we started up the first hill I could feel there was something wrong and when we crested the top I could see it.

The lights were on in Old Man Cotton's house. I shook my head knowing that we had to pass his place and grateful that it stood almost thirty yards from the road. Still there was the chance that he would be outside and ready to defend the neighborhood from another beer fueled teenage party. In the back of my mind I imagined how I was explain to my neighbor why we were riding around naked all under the watchful eyes of his double barrel shotgun.

I picked up speed and did all I could to watch for movement in the shadows of his farmyard. As we passed I didn't bother looking, but Sharon did, and she yelled to me of the dark face peering out from the backlit window. My heart raced, but now we were past and safe.

I sighed in relief as we moved past the farm, going faster and faster until I was leaning forward and Sharon, holding tight, lay over me. Going down the road all I could see was the short space in my headlight. All I wanted to do was get back to the safety of my farm. We were almost there when I saw them coming over the hill - headlights.

"Damn it!" I spat as the car breached the top of the hill and we were engulfed in the glare.

I cranked the throttle back and picked up speed. There was a spot just ahead where the road was almost wide enough for two to pass and I knew I could squeeze past the car as long as the driver didn't try to cut me off.

As we closed I reached down and patted Sharon's leg and just before we reached the oncoming car she stood up on the back and yelled at the top of her lungs, her fist high in the air.

I could hear the car's tires skidding on the gravel as the blue lights came on, reflecting on the fence posts along the side of the road. Sharon tucked back in behind me.

"Oh shit!" Sharon said in my ear.

"Damn it." I opened the throttle all the way.

I kept up my speed as we neared the hill by the creek at the edge of my property. The lights were still flashing back there, but it seemed that we were leaving them behind. We had one hope and as we started down the hill I locked up the breaks and skidded across the bridge.

"I hope you're not allergic to poison ivy!" I yelled into the wind and blasted past the gate and the cattle guard.

Instead of heading up the hill I turned and stopped. "Get off!" I yelled.

Sharon jumped off without question and I quickly rode the ATV into the creek and turned it off. Climbing out of the creek, I looked at my arms in the moonlight now knowing that there was far more green briar growing by the gate than poison ivy.

"Are you hurt?" I asked Sharon.

"No. Just a scrape."

"Shit, let's get out of here!"

We started running toward the barn, turning to look for lights that never came.

"They're not coming." Sharon said slowing to a walk.

"Or he's turned off his lights." I turned to look toward the road.

"Either way I'm not running all the way back to the house without a jog bra. Ha!" She seemed to relax now that the chase looked over.

We walked across the field and up a hill until we reached the barn, teasing each other all the way and from time to time looking back. Sharon had a nice body and the promise of my imagination was fulfilled. We decided that the sheriff's car must have been unable to turn around and by the time it had reached Cotton's where the road was wide enough the deputy understood that the chase was lost.

As we reached the barn I looked over at Sharon. "So you are staying here tonight?"

"Yes," She said quietly, "too much to drink to drive anywhere else. Anyway after that chase I'm not risking getting out until tomorrow morning."

"Good, you take the master upstairs and I'll sleep on the sofa."

She understood and smiled at me. "Here let me take a look at those scrapes."

I sat down on the sofa and let her tend to my wounds. She had a slight mark on her leg, but I had taken the brunt of it as we crashed through the overgrown gate. Her hands were soft, but firm and moved calmly as she worked. She poked and prodded and dabbed at the scrapes in a way that was sometimes compassionate and sometimes clinical. I watched her working so close to me. Her breasts swayed as she moved and her fragrance filled my chest with each breath. I realized that I was getting hard again, but she didn't seem to care.

"Sorry." I said.

"No problem." She smiled that understanding smile again and looked back at the cut on my leg. "When those blue lights came on I became so, well horny. Ha! I almost took care of myself as we raced down the road."

"Really?"

"Really!" She stood up and looked at me. "Still am. And judging by the shape of things you're there. So we need to get to bed."

"Good night." I said.

"Good night."

She turned and started climbing the stairs.

I walked to the wall and turned off the switch before laying down on the couch to rest. Staring into the darkness I imagined her lying in our bed masturbating and wondered if she thought of me on the couch doing the same.

* * *

It was my wife's voice that shook me. "Hey! Hey! Wake up! Earth to Robert!"

I shook my head and looked around feeling a little dumb and a little hard.

"What were you thinking about? You were a million miles away!" She said.

"Yea, I thought I would never see anybody so distracted during a game of strip poker. HA!" Sharon laughed.

"Oh just remembering something that happened a few months ago." I said.

I gave a knowing look to Sharon, then a glance to her fiancé, Gary.

The guy was lost, uncomfortable with the game and the fact that he had lost two hands. Despite her deciding to give swinging a try, my wife was still buttoned up like a Puritan and seemed to be playing to stay that way. I was surprised she agreed to swing, but Sharon can be persuasive. As for Sharon, she was dealing and had lost her blouse.

"Everybody bet." Sharon chirped.

"I'm out." Sharon's fiancé said taking off his shirt.

"Britches." I offered.

My wife was wearing her poker face. "Socks."

"Big spender. How many pairs of socks are you wearing." Sharon's hearty laugh filled the room. "I'll bet my bra."

Gary looked at her, a little stunned.

"You two in cahoots," My wife asked looking

at her and nodding at me.

"What is this, a '50s western?" I asked. "Will I need a barrel if I lose?"

Sharon ignored us both and took a pull on her beer. "How many cards?"

I looked at my hand, jacks and twos backed by a seven, then took a measure of everyone at the table. "This hand sucks. Three cards." I pitched the jacks and one two into the pile.

Sharon dealt me three more cards, all trash.

"You can't afford to keep losing." Sharon grinned.

"No you can't. You'll be down to your shorts in one more hand at this pace." My wife laughed.

"Who said I was losing?" I smiled and folded.

I looked around the table. Barb was holding her own, but Gary looked like he was about to come unhinged. Sharon just grinned at me that same grin from before. "Hey I know, anybody interested in a ride on the ATV later?"