Jerry slowed the pickup truck on the unpaved road in the middle of nowhere and turned left. He drove into a cornfield that was recently harvested. The over-sized pickup bucked, like a bronco, over the rough ground and the chopped cornstalks. Both Jerry and Kitty tried to keep their seats as they coursed across the land. They stabilized themselves as best as possible. Jerry gripped the steering wheel tightly; Kitty braced herself with a hand on the dashboard and the other holding a handle above the passenger door.
“Hang on, Kitty! This is a rodeo!”
“I … love a … rodeo—Ouch!” Her head hit the top of the cab.
The truck finally eased to a stop about a quarter mile in. The headlights flicked off, leaving the two in the darkness.
“This’s it. Been comin’ here for years,” Kitty said and looked out her window. “Let’s have a look ‘round. The stars are no bigger anywheres.”
They slipped down out of the truck.
“Sure is out here a ways, but those stars, so bright, are worth the drive,” Jerry said.
She snuggled against him, a perfect fit. She pointed out Jupiter and Mars in the night sky and outlined the Virgo constellation.
He took his eyes off the sky and looked down at her. “I don’t think I seen ‘em so big before.”
“You know, Jerry, it’s easier on ya neck if we lay in yer truck bed, or on the hood.” She smiled.
Jerry saw her bright smile despite the night.
“The bed is more comfortable, I think. No chance’a sliding off. And we won’t dent the bed either.”
“Thinkin’ about denting somethin’ already, huh?”
“Crossed my mind a couple’a times.”
He took her hand and led her to the back of the truck. He pressed his body against hers. Their lips grazed, and he tasted her strawberry lip gloss. Pausing, he let down the tailgate and lifted her by the waist onto the edge. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close to her again, opening her legs to get him as close as possible. She smelled the Stetson cologne on his neck. She bit his earlobe for playful pain. As they kissed again, she dug her fingernails into his back and scratched up and down. She felt his muscles tense in more pain.
He sucked on her lower lip, then kissed his way down to the base of her neck. He placed a kiss there and on each collarbone. She let her head fall back at the start of his exploration.
“Come up here with me,” she whispered.
She placed the heels of her cowboy boots on the tailgate and scooted back. He climbed up in one large step. Crossing the length of the truck bed in another step, he stopped in front of Kitty who sat leaning against the metal cross box. She was at eye-level with the large bulge in his pants.
He reached over her and pulled out of the box two pillows and a thick blanket.
It surprised her. “You plann’ for this night or you always keep pillows and a blanket in there?”
“A man’s always prepared. But tonight’s special, ‘cause you’re special.”
“Aw, that’s nice to say. Lay next to me, let’s get comfortable.” She patted the pillow.
He laid down and rustled her on top of him. She felt the hardened lump against her right thigh and rubbed her body against it. The length aligned with where she wanted it: a straight position, like the hands of a clock striking midnight.
Soon she peeled off her flannel shirt and was left with only her tight, white tank top. Leaning over him, she squeezed her arms together to emphasize her deep cleavage.
“Show ‘em to me?” he asked, a pleading in his voice.
She waved her finger. Instead, she reached under his shirt and ran her fingers through a thin bit of chest hair to find his nipples. Then she pinched them hard.
He tried to protect himself from her small pincers. “Ow! You like hurting me, don’tcha?”
She only pinched harder as her answer. They tussled until she let him take her wrists and pull them away.
A couple of kisses later, and up came his shirt. She slipped it over his head and tossed it out of the truck. Scratching her fingernails down his chest, she stopped at his belt buckle.
Her fingers ran along the waistline of his jeans. She flicked the elastic band of his boxer shorts. His breaths became faster and shorter.
“I’m looking for somethin’. Think I’m gonna find it?” she asked.
“Yea, you gonna find it, trust me. And you’ll love it—all of it.”
She unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops. Like his shirt, she sent it overboard, lost, for now, in the darkness. She unsnapped his pants and undid the zipper. But she stopped.
“I need attention before anything else.” She reached under her shirt and unclasped her bra. Her heavy breasts drooped. She raised the nude bra up above her, drawing his eyes, and then dropped it on the truck bed.
He wanted her to go further on him, but he was willing to attend to her. He reached under her shirt and lifted it up. He saw her deep bellybutton appear and a rounded midriff.
“Pull it off. My girls need your lips and tongue.”
Taking it higher, out fell two large breasts. Her nipples were small compared to the breasts’ size, but they were hard. He tossed her shirt out of the truck, like she had with his clothes.
He grabbed her tits and she leaned in so he could fill his mouth with as much as possible.
“Let me feel you work.”
His lips circled her nipples and he felt up the other breast, squeezing and kneading. While he sucked, he pinched and lightly tugged at the other nipple. She relished in the thrill of him and his mouth. She knew something else would take her to the brink later on. Soon, he switched breasts, twisting and nibbling, for the sake of equality.
A few minutes later, in the truck bed, they both lay topless, enjoying the night. On her back with her hands behind her head, she was in full view of the moon, stars, and Jerry, and willing to be explored. He ran his finger gently along the side of her right breast, then up and over. He drew a small circle between the two and outlined the left, as if writing calligraphy across her chest. His finger moved down the center of her stomach and looped around her bellybutton. Like her before, he unhooked her belt and its large, metal buckle. He slid it to the other side of the bed. Kitty let him continue. He unsnapped the button on her tattered cut-offs and lowered the zipper slowly. His eyes were transfixed on what was underneath.
Kitty wore a tight pair of purple panties, a tiny bow on the waist band.
“Wait,” Kitty whispered, putting her hands on his, which were ready to move into the panties.
“Yea, wait, I ain’t ready yet.” She sat up.
“Not ready? What do I gotta do to make you ready?”
“Let’s go skinny-dippin’ first. A creek’s near here, down yonder. I never done skinny-dippin’ before … with a guy.”
“I bet that creek’s cold ‘nough to freeze the teat off a frog.”
“We’ll have’ta warm it up, or stick close to stay warm.”
“We’ll be warmer right here.”
“Beat’cha there!” Kitty pushed him away from her and scrambled over the side of the truck. She jogged through the field, tits bouncing back and forth wildly, going toward the sound of the babbling water.
“Come on, Kitty, why do you gotta do this? All teasing me and stuff. It ain’t funny. I’m’a getcha though.” He slid into his boots, found his shirt on the ground, and then trotted after her.
Nearing the creek, he called, “Kitty, you feel how cold the water is? So cold you can’t answer me. Should’a stayed in the truck, looking at the stars.”
He stepped closer, trying to see her in the water, despite the darkness. “I c’ain’t see you, Kitty. Where’re you?”
No answer. He didn’t hear any splashing either.
“Kitty … O, Kitty,” he sing-songed.
He tried to play along with her trick while not being caught off guard and shoved in to the creek as a practical joke. Skinny-dipping was her idea, and he didn’t want to go in first, especially if she had no intention of getting wet.
He hadn’t found her.
“Kitty?” he called more worried now.
She had all but vanished, and, no doubt, wasn’t willing to give up her hiding spot until carrying out her devious plan.
He took one more step along the bank and nearly slipped. He kept his footing, but then his truck engine started up to a roar. The headlights flicked on. He was blinded by the high-beams, which cast long shadows to the opposite creek bank and beyond that. He raised his arms to shield the brightness and called out. However, no one would have heard his loudest shout when the engine revved and roared.
Jerry knew the transmission was being revved to its red line. He shouted louder and waved his arms more fervently. “Don’t mess up my truck, Kitty!”
He heard the transmission engage, and he screamed in terror. “Kitty! Quit!”
The rear tires spun, churning up dirt, digging deep grooves. In wild reaction, fearing the truck was about to lunge toward him, he jumped into the cold creek.
He wailed again. This time, it was an amalgam of chilly water and a fear of a ruined pickup. He scrambled a few yards up stream to be out of the truck’s way. He knelt in the water, waiting, watching the truck. Then the headlights went dark. The field was black as his eyes adjusted for a moment. Slowly, the full moon’s light transformed the field to a shimmering silver, except for one dark spot, the dark outline of his truck.
A moment later, he heard the door close and a few crunches coming toward him.
Jerry stood up in the thigh-deep creek, water dripping from his clothes. “Kitty, do you know what you did? Messin’ up a man’s truck is like starting a war, girl—world war three!” He pulled his shirt that was stuck against his torso. It only slapped back into place against him.
A curvaceous form appeared on the creek’s bank. “Ready for a world war? I don’t think you can handle me.”
“Kitty, Kitty,” he said as he sloshed through the water to the bank. “I am so ready. Ready for anything and everything. You messed with my pickup.” He climbed out of the creek, and Kitty squealed. She dashed away like she had before.
He gave a controlled warning. “Kitty, stop. Better come here.”
She paused in her stride but didn’t turn. A hint of rebellion in her pause.
“What did I just say, Kitty?” Jerry stared at her moonlight form. She turned to him.
He noticed she was wearing her flannel shirt again.
“Come here,” he said firmly when she didn’t move. He repeated his command and pointed to his feet. “Get over here.”
She took small, cautious steps, like a young daughter who knew she would be spanked when within her father’s reach. The chopped corn stalks crackled under her cowboy boots with each step, getting closer to Jerry.
When close, he swiftly snatched her in a bear grip. In a tussle, he soon pulled her next to him and under his soaking wet shirt.
She squealed while he loosed a laugh of a mad hatter.
“Ew yuck! You’re soakin’ wet!” she shouted and tried to wriggle free.
“You’re not getting free. You’re gonna get cold and wet too.” He kept her trapped under his shirt and bear-hugged her so she could not escape. But he released his hug immediately when he felt a nip on his tightened nipple.
“Quit that,” he said, backing away from her, only to hear his shirt stretch.
She escaped from under his shirt but could not get away. Jerry grabbed her arm and, in a moment, hoisted her over his shoulder, her ass pointing to the moon.
She squealed again while pounding her fists on Jerry’s back and kicking her feet wildly.
In spite of her girly antics, Jerry controlled her. “Now,” he said, “you need to pay up.”
She beat him wildly as he trudged forward to his truck.
“I’m not lettin’ you go, Kitty. Kick all you want. You’re mine.”
“No, I’m not. No, no way,” she said through a laugh, a shout and exhaustion. Finally, she gave up. Her body hung over Jerry’s shoulder until he came to the tailgate. He set her down on it. She slumped, tired from the kicking and shouting and laughing.
Finally, she looked up at the man in front of her. He was strong, clear in what he wanted. He wasn’t the guy from a half hour ago. This was a new man. He wasn’t asking and prodding her gently. Jerry was firm and direct. She liked this new persona.
“You going to punish me here?” she asked.
“You want some punishing, do you?”
She wore a smile of desire.
Jerry took her flannel, and before unbuttoning it, she yanked it open. The buttons popped everywhere, gone, unseen.
The pair fell into a heated kiss. Their passion was born from delayed gratification, a cold creek, and a night of back-and-forth teasing.
Jerry reached through her open flannel and felt her large breasts. Her hand then went to feel the growing length in his pants.
She broke the kiss. “No shrinkage, is there?”
“No cold creek could shrink me.” He moved her back to the pillow in the truck bed near the cab.
Her breasts flapped side to side as she scooted back. She undid her cutoffs and pulled them down. He dropped his pants. She was in an open flannel and purple panties with the tiny bow on the waistband. He was in dark boxer shorts. Their hands pulled and grabbed until he was naked, and she was only in her panties. He got on top of her. He kissed her abundant breasts. He licked all over them, nibbled on them and then prodded them with his tongue.
As he moved on, she gathered her voice in her enjoyment. “I have a tattoo. Did you know?”
He raised up. “No, no I didn’t. Where is it?”
“You wanna see?” she asked.
He had to pull his mind back from sex-craziness and into real life. “You playin’ games again?”
She reached to his face and brushed her palm against his cheeks. “This ain’t a game.”
He backed off of her so she could move.
“Off the truck,” she said.
He backed away further and ended up standing on the ground at the truck bed. She backed up, on her hands and knees backward, ass high.
She stopped when his hands touched her. “Take down my panties, slowly.”
His fingers ran along the elastic band. At her hips, he pulled them back. Soon a small tattoo appeared on her pale butt. In a thin cursive script were the words “Stay Wild”.
He kissed the tattoo and asked, “You wild?”
She just moaned softly.
He worked the panties over her round cheeks. As she felt cool air surround her, she turned her head toward him. “Did I say you could take them down?”
He didn’t answer. He only let the purple panties drop down her legs, caught up at her cowboy boots.
His hands pawed her large ass. His fingers touched and felt deep. When she cooed, he guided her off the truck to stand backside to him.
She flinched when she felt his cock press against her pussy. She looked up and saw a drifting cloud block the moon glow.
Jerry entered her wet pussy and sharp pangs hit her body. The pangs were followed immediately by a warmth that flowed from her core out to the tips of her toes as he pulled back his cock, so only the head remained enveloped. The rush of pangs and pleasure continued as her wetness had fully coated his dick.
“Yes, yes,” Kitty managed to whimper.
Hearing her words, Jerry upped his pressure and speed, his stomach tensing and his heart pumping. He tried to speak, but both his mind and body were grunting mentally and physically. In his stead, the pickup proudly began to creak and cheep with his thrusts.
She urged and encouraged him. “Yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” She reached between her legs to massage her clit in tight circles. Her body jolted. Her massaging sped up.
As Jerry’s body straightened and his lean torso flexed, she grabbed the nape of his neck to brace herself for the joy that was about to come. Her back arched as Jerry dug deep, making her flesh to jiggle.
In his push he gripped her hair and pulled her head back. She saw the cloud had passed, and the moonlight shined bright. Jerry, stretched over her like a howling wolf, hissed and grunted. His breathing begins quick successions of staccato inhales. They sped up, until there was a sudden pause.
A tense moment later, Kitty felt his explosion in her. Getting him, her body twitched into a contortion and a surge of prickles and waves of warmth, blurring her mind. Pleasure.
As the pleasure eased over the coming time, the moon unclouded, and Jerry was lying next to her in the truck bed, drawing calligraphy over her breasts.
“That tattoo’a yours, you know, matches you good.”
“You one of the only ones to have seen it.”
“I hope it stays like that too.”
“Treat me good, boy, and it will. And just lettin’ me drive your truck ain’t treatin’ me good neither.”
“I can treat you better than any truck-drivin’ boy can. But I c’ain’t understand you skidding out my truck.”