Truck Got Stuck

I could hear Mandy complaining over her phone. "...yeah, I dunno. I'm out here in the middle of nowhere, so..."

I glanced in the rearview - she was standing directly behind my truck, about fifteen feet back.

I looked down at my dashboard, at the small clutch-override switch I'd installed a couple of years ago.

I smiled a little. Like, that smile that the Grinch got when he figured out how to steal Christmas - that kind of smile.

The little devil on my shoulder was screaming "Do it! Do it! Do it!" in my ear.

The little angel on the other side shrugged and said "Go ahead, man."

I have never once said that I was a good person.

I flipped the switch and casually, nonchalantly dropped the transmission into first. I reached out, eyes glued on the rearview, and bumped the key.

The torque from the starter caused a massive cascade of mud to spin up off of my back tires - and all over Mandy, who dropped her phone in surprise.

"You motherfucker!" she screamed, wheeling around, face a mask of fury.

I hopped out, pocketing my keys. "Sorry 'bout that," I said. "Forgot I had it in gear."

"Forgot, my ass!" she shouted, stomping towards me, hands balled into fists.

That was laughable - I didn't like her, but I figured I was not terribly likely to forget her ass. It was, indeed, one of the few things about her that I actually liked.

She pulled back as though to hit me and I cocked my head to one side. "Really?" I asked, gesturing so as to indicate our size difference. I had six inches and sixty pounds on her.

Let's be clear - I would never hit a woman.

I wasn't sure, however, as to where my code of honor stood about hitting a she-demon from the Seven Hells.

She stood down. Then she stooped down. And before I knew what was happening, an enormous handful of mud had crossed the distance between us and splattered all over my face.

I responded in kind, grabbing a handful of my own and sending it flying her way. She dodged most of it, but a biggish drop landed right in her blonde hair, with a satisfying "splort!" sound.

Like most skirmishes, it quickly blossomed out into full-on war - before too long, we were both covered head-to-toe in mud, running and dodging between the stationary pickups and creating a terrifically satisfying mess, all the while hurling the most horrendous insults imaginable.

I'd hidden behind Charles' jacked-up Ram, and she was on the other side, trying to decide whether to circle around the front or the back to catch me. I had an idea - I dropped to the ground and wriggled my head and shoulders into what little space was still available under the truck. I was covered in mud anyway, so a little more wouldn't hurt.

While she was still edging back and forth, like a baserunner taking a tentative lead off first, shouting her intent to murder me via some arcane means, I reached out, grabbed one ankle and pulled.

She went down like a sack of potatoes, plopping heavily into the mud, cursing like a sailor. I hopped up and sprinted around to gloat over my fallen foe - forgetting that she, too, could grab and pull someone's ankle. Which she promptly did.

Before I knew it, we were locked in a half-assed wrestling grapple, rolling ass-over-teakettle through the muck.

We finally rolled to a stop, with me pinning her to the ground, her struggling like a trapped cat under me.

"Let me up!" she shouted.

"Stop being such a bitch!"

"You first!"

"Say uncle!"

"Fuck you!"

"You first!"

It was a terribly mature sort of exchange for two people in their mid-to-late twenties.

She finally stopped struggling and lay there, panting from the exertion. I watched her face soften. She really was incredibly pretty, even slathered in a healthy coat of mud. I forced myself back to reality before I could go too far down that road.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay what?"

"I give, let me up."

I nodded. I started up, and then stopped. "Hang on."

I reached out and brushed her face with my fingers.

"What the fuck!?" she cried.

"You had some mud about to get in your eye. Calm down."

I rolled off and got into a seated position on the ground next to her. She struggled into a seated position herself, still panting from our brief tussle, and we both sat there silently for a few minutes.

Pretty soon, I heard her starting to laugh. I looked over at her - her laugh intensified. "Look at us," she said. "The creatures from the black lagoon."

I chuckled. "Yeah, maybe not our best moments."

She shook her head. "No, maybe not."

We looked at each other for a second and then the absurdity of the whole thing washed over us and we were both taken by paroxysms of laughter, rolling on our backs, roaring our hilarity into the darkening Georgia sky.

After a minute, we recovered and I stumbled to my feet. I offered her a hand up and she accepted. I fumbled around behind the seat of my truck and produced a couple of old towels and a gallon of water I'd been carrying around to top off my radiator; I tossed one to her and we both spent a couple of minutes trying to get as much mud off as possible.

"Jesus, I'm never gonna get this shit out of my hair," I heard her grumble. "I'm gonna have to shave it off."

"Oh, don't do that," I said, my mouth responding before my brain could catch it.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "Hang on." She paused, cocked her head to one side. "Do you like my hair?" she asked, her tone one of amazement.

"I..." I stammered. "It's not bad. It's a good look for you."

"Well, I'll be damned. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Oh, come off it," I started to protest.

She held up one hand to cut me off. "Stop," she said. "Please, let's not.... You know, maybe my brother was right." She let out a deep, sad sigh. "Why do we do this?"

I opened the tailgate of my truck and sat down; she came and sat down next to me.

I thought for a minute. I was about to make some crack about how I was merely doing my job to defend Earth from alien invaders, but it seemed like she was genuinely asking. And I was too tired to do the whole battle-of-the-wits thing, anyway.

I thought some more. I looked over at her.

"Well?" she said.

I shook my head. "I don't have the first goddamned clue."

She laughed again, a great, throaty laugh that started deep in her chest and rolled out towards the still, dark, dripping pines. I joined in, and she held out one hand.

"Truce?" she asked.

I took her hand and shook it, nodding my agreement.

My cell phone rang.

I reached into my back pocket and held up the phone to show her the caller ID - it was Reg.

"Where the righteous fuck are you?" I asked him, forgoing a polite "hello."

"Uh, you're not gonna..."

"What?" I rolled my eyes and put him on speaker.

"Holtzman's tractor's broke down. I'm gonna have to head over to Mr. Franklin's and see if I can get his."

"Then get a move on, man!"

There was a pause on the line. "Uh, yeah, I'm already on my way. Thing is..." he trailed off.

Mandy piped up. "What? The thing is what?"

"Uh, well, he lives 'way on the other side of the WMA; it's gonna be at least another hour before I can get back. Are y'all gonna be all...." I hung up on him and tossed my phone into the truck bed behind me.

"Well, shit," I said. "We might as well get comfortable." I leaned back, resting on my elbows.

She sat, cross-legged, on the tailgate.

I was staring up at the sky, watching the last vestiges of daylight fade away, when she suddenly spoke.

"I don't hate you, you know," she said. "I never have."

She was looking at me with a thoughtful expression.

I sighed. "I don't hate you, either. I just... I guess we never really got off on the right foot or something."

She smiled. "Do you remember the night we met?"

I did.

***

Reg and I had started hanging out in our junior year of college; he was roommates with a guy I'd gone to high school with. We had mutual interests - girls, beer, video games, and fishing - and we'd quickly become friends. One weekend, his little sister came down to visit, and we'd all agreed to hit the town that Saturday night.

When I got to the bar, the place was crammed with drunk undergrads - I spotted Reg and this unbelievably hot blonde sitting at a back table. Whoa, I thought. Is that his sister?

Of course, I wasn't planning on making any moves - my girlfriend Jamie was meeting us shortly - but nonetheless, I found her very - shall we say "interesting"?

Until she started talking.

She was two years younger than us, and had been studying psychology at an elite private school in Atlanta. She was clearly brilliant, but also clearly aware of that fact - and wanted us to be aware of it, too.

Looking back later, I didn't think she was doing it on purpose, but at the time, it was incredibly offputting. She rattled off obscure references, kept turning the conversation to her research projects, and then - the last straw - started performing a half-assed psychoanalysis of me at the table.

That was the beginning of the end. By the time the night was over, we were all but shouting at one another across a table, and I stormed back to my apartment early, just to get away from her.

It had not been an auspicious start to our relationship.

***

I smiled back at her. "Yeah, you tried to diagnose my psychoses, right there at the bar. Just after you spent a half-hour showing off how much smarter you were than the rest of us."

"Hey, you weren't exactly being Mr. Welcoming yourself," she snapped back. "You made it pretty clear that you didn't have a lot of respect for psych majors."

I thought for a second. Yeah, that was true - I'd been a pretty big dick that evening, myself. I shrugged. "Fair cop," I said.

There was another long pause. "I was trying to impress you," she said, blushing and looking away. "I thought you were cute as hell, and I was trying to flirt. I just.... I didn't really know how."

You could have knocked all 195 pounds of me over with a very small feather. Possibly with a few specks of dust. Nonplussed? I'd never been so far away from plussed in my entire life.

She looked back at me with a small smile and continued. "I actually had a crush on you for a long time after that, but you were going out with that other girl... Jamie? I started coming down on weekends a lot more after that, remember?"

I nodded.

"It was pretty clear we had different things going on, but I kept coming around to argue with you because at least that way we got to spend time together." She gave a small laugh. "It probably wasn't the healthiest thing I've ever done. By the time you and Jamie broke up, we'd pretty well established our relationship - all-fighting-all-the-time - and then I got together with Tyler, and...." she trailed off and shrugged slightly. "That was that."

She blushed and looked away again.

My head was spinning a little. My mind raced through the past eight years. It occurred to me that my relationship with Mandy had been the most solid one I'd had with any female - other than my mom and my sister - in pretty much my entire life. It hadn't been a pleasant one, but it had been constant.

And, putting everything else aside for a second, I actually did like a lot of things about her. I'd have never admitted it to her or anyone else, but it was fun sparring with her. Her mind was truly impressive - sharp, incisive, fiercely logical, and dangerously witty. Her jokes were vicious and always landed. And, she did seem to genuinely care about the people around her.

At least the ones she wasn't engaged in a years-long blood feud with, anyway.

She stretched out next to me, propped up on one elbow, looking at me with a curious expression on her face.

"Sorry I've been a bitch for the last eight years," she said.

"Sorry I've been an asshole."

I turned onto my side to face her. A strand of clumped, mud-saturated hair had fallen across her face, and she brushed it aside with one long finger.

She smiled slightly, shook her head a little. "You're not exactly an asshole. Maybe, like, asshole-adjacent."

I started to reply, but she continued. "You're smart, but not stuck up about it, you know how to do, like, everything, and you're a really good friend to my brother. Like today - Jesus, you spent an entire day helping him with that generator when you and I both know that nothing is ever going to be built out here."

"Eh, he'd do the same for me."

"No, he wouldn't."

I laughed. "Well, no, he doesn't know which end of a wrench to hold, but if I needed something he could do, he would."

She smiled again. I was really starting to like that smile. "Fair enough," she continued. "You used to intimidate the hell out of me, I think that's why I didn't just ask you out instead of trying to be an amateur psychologist.

"And you're still cute as hell," she finished with a wink.

I'd never thought of myself as cute. Or handsome. Or anything of the sort. My work kept me in pretty good shape, and I supposed I might be called "rugged" or something like that, but there was simply no evidence that she knew what the hell she was talking about, vis-a-vis my physical appearance. Still, a compliment's a compliment - I could feel face starting to turn red.

I said, "Well, if we're doing confessions - I've always thought you were brilliant, even back when I first met you. Your little analysis of me at the bar cut a little too close to home, and that scared me to death. I never liked it when people were able to get my number, and you got it fast. You've always been the little hottie who was too damned smart for her own good."

She was blushing. "You think I'm a hottie?" she asked, looking into my eyes.

"Well... yeah. I mean, Jesus, Mandy, look at you. Even muddy and all gross, you're still fucking gorgeous. You do know that about yourself, right?"

She smiled for a third time, and I felt butterflies starting to come to life in my belly.

Hold up, what's all this? my brain was shouting.

Just, hang on, replied some other parts of my body. Let's see where this goes, okay?

Fine, snapped back my brain. Just leave me out of it.

Another silence. We lay there, looking at each other as the stars winked into existence overhead.

She broke the silence again, scooching closer to me. "So, what was that you were saying about getting comfortable...?"

She leaned forward and her lips brushed mine.

"That was pretty comfortable," she whispered.

She pressed her lips to mine for a second longer.

"Better."

She put a hand on the side of my neck and pulled my face into hers. Our lips met again, locked together. Her lips parted, and our tongues danced together.

We broke for a second. "Now that's comfortable," she purred, caressing the side of my face.

My brain piped up again. What the actual fuck!?

"Mandy, wait," I started. She put her hand across my mouth.

"Just.. hush," she said. "I'm not looking to pair up for life or anything, I just... Y'know... I kinda... oh, just shut up." She leaned in again and kissed me for the fourth time. This kiss was hungry, seeking - passionate. She held onto me as though one small slip would send her hurtling into the abyss. Her tongue probed into my mouth, hands greedily pulled me closer and tighter.

I found myself perfectly willing to shut up for as long as she required.

Well, at least most of me did. My brain was still trying to protest what was happening - thankfully, the rest of me went to work and pretty quickly subdued the stupid son of a bitch.

Her body felt amazing next to mine; I could feel every curve, feel her warmth. I ran my hand along her side, down her hip, back up to rest on her waist. She put a hand out and pushed me over onto my back. "One thing is not comfortable," she said, "this truck bed ain't cutting it on my precious, delicate skin." I laughed and pulled her over on top of me.

"Better?"

She kissed me again, running her hands down my chest. "Better."

We lay like that for a moment, kissing, touching, exploring one another's bodies with our hands. I slid one hand up the back of her shirt to stroke her back, feeling her soft skin and tracing her spine with one finger. She shivered and began tracing light kisses up my jawline towards my ear. I felt her hot breath flowing across my skin.

I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, or where this had come from, or whether or not it was some kind of elaborate ruse to finish me off once and for all, but - whatever it was - I was completely okay with it. Her lips felt incredible on my skin - soft and warm and promising. Each contact set my nerve endings on fire - I felt like I'd been worked over with sandpaper, every touch more intense than the one before.

I brought my hand around her side and gently cupped one breast in my hand, a thin layer of lace between my fingers and her smooth skin. I pinched her nipple and she nipped at my earlobe.

"Don't stop there," she whispered.

I could feel her fingers unbuttoning my shirt; I reached around and unsnapped the clasp on her bra.

She sat up, startled.

"Oh, shit!" I said. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"No," she said, laughing. "Never been with a guy who could do that one-handed," she said. "You're just full of surprises."

Indeed I was. One of them, in fact, was starting to be a bit more vocal in its request for attention. She could feel it, too, and she pressed herself down onto me, rubbing her mound against my rapidly-growing erection.

"Hellooooooo, nurse," she giggled. "That feels promising."

I let out a small moan and reached down for the hem of her shirt. She raised her arms, allowing me to pull the tank top over her head, and she shrugged, dropping her bra to one side.

Ohhhhhhh, I get it, said my brain, finally deciding to join the party.

Before me was a stunningly-beautiful woman with the most amazing breasts I had ever seen. They were larger than you'd expect on a girl of her size; they sagged slightly once freed from the restraints of her bra - round and soft and inviting. Pale pink nipples perked out from the peaks, one slightly larger than the other.

I may have been slack-jawed, I'm not sure. Hell, I may have been babbling like a traumatized toddler. At the very least, I was staring hard enough to burn holes in her skin.

She ran her hands down them, lightly pinching her nipples and tracing circles with the tips of her fingers. "You like?" she asked, then rolled her eyes. "Wait, what am I saying? You're a guy. You all go stupid over these things."

I could have responded to that, but I'd already moved onto other things in my head. I shrugged off my shirt and sat up a little straighter, reaching out to caress the soft skin around her nipples. She edged up closer to me and pressed her naked chest against mine, kissing me softly.

I placed my hands on the small of her back and pulled her tighter into my lap. She slowly slid back and forth, grinding again, my cock straining against the fabric that held it.

"Jesus, Mandy," I groaned.

"If you're enjoying that," she said, tossing her hair back and leaning in to nibble my ear again, "wait'll we get our pants off."

One of her hands had made its way into my lap, where it fumbled for a moment with my belt. Finally, she managed to unbuckle it and made quick work of my pants. I felt a soft, gentle hand reach into my boxers and free my now-throbbing cock.

She stroked me lightly, sending bolts of lightning pulsing through me with every touch. Her touch was gentle, soft. She continued to trace light kisses up and down my neck, my jaw, teasing my lips with faint brushes.