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The engine of the four-wheeler idled quietly between my thighs. The heat from the engine was harsh on my legs. Mud was everywhere—all over the tires, the engine, even the handlebars. I wiped some of it off and looked at my fingers. My arms were covered with it. My long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and stuck under a baseball cap, and even that cap was caked with dirt. I looked out over the bay as I shook drops of mud off my fingertips.
“That’s pretty damn sexy,” my boyfriend drawled. Chuck was sitting on the back of his own four-wheeler, which was originally hunter green but was now solid brown. He was covered in mud, same as I was, only his covering looked to be a bit thicker than mine.
I turned to him and grinned. I held up my hands to show him that every finger was
covered.
“Better than nail polish,” he announced.
“What’s nail polish?”
He laughed and winked at me as he gunned his engine. “Race me?”
“Race you where?”
Chuck nodded straight ahead. He wanted to drive right through the center of the major mud puddle, right there through the middle of the marshland bay. I stared at it for a moment, then looked back at him. He raised a mud-covered eyebrow. He looked a bit like a human raccoon. The only clean spots on his face were those circles right around his eyes.
I didn’t answer. I just kicked my four-wheeler into gear and hit the gas. My tires dug in for a moment, then I was rocketing straight ahead, diving into the mud without a second’s hesitation. I downshifted again when I hit the edge of the mud, and downshifted one more time before I roared right into it. Chuck was speeding along with me, though I noted with appreciation that he was quite a few feet behind.
The engine howled. Mud flew behind the four-wheeler in a wide, tall arc. Whoops and hollers came from the bank—from people watching and waiting for their turn. Chuck’s engine roared and with a quick turn of his wrist he was ahead of me, throwing mud into my face. My four-wheeler bogged down. I geared up, spun tires and then geared back down. I shot out of the puddle and onto the dry ground, gearing up as I did it, but he was still too far ahead of me.
“Damn you!” I hollered, and thought I heard Chuck laugh.
I cranked the engine wide-open and tore across the field, chasing Chuck. By the time he reached the fencerow and swung the four-wheeler around, I was still a good five lengths behind him. And I was covered with mud. He grinned triumphantly at me and revved the engine. His muffler sounded like it was clogged.
His engine died.
I laughed out loud.
“Go ahead and laugh, you little shit,” he growled as he tried to start the engine again. It was useless. The engine was flooded. He glared at me and kicked the hell out of the fender. Mud flew off and plopped on the ground.
“But you won,” I said with a grin.
“That’s not helping,” he replied, but he was trying to hide his crooked smile.
“I climbed off my four-wheeler. Chuck scooted back on his and made room. I straddled his four-wheeler and faced him. I wiped mud off his face with my fingertips. He kissed my nose.
“Is there mud on my nose?” I asked.
“Actually, you’re not that bad.”
“I can’t say the same for you.”
Chuck smiled and pulled a wet rag from the pocket of his mud-soaked jeans. The rag was shockingly white against the dirtiness of everything else. He used it to wipe down my face, and then used it on his own. Motors roared down in the huge mud pit.
“Aren’t you smart as can be,” I said approvingly. He waved the cloth in the air like a flag.
“If you cannot beat the mud, you must learn how to work around it,” he said.
“Apparently.”
Chuck grinned at me and this time he kissed me in earnest. His lips were warm and soft against mine. His face was damp. “You’re so damn cute,” he said.
I smiled up into his green eyes. I reached down to pull up my sweatshirt. Chuck’s eyes lit up, then his face fell when he realized I was wearing a tank top underneath it.
“I should have known,” he lamented.
“Want to see more?”
“Do you have to ask?”
I stood up on the four-wheeler. Chuck looked up at me with a leering grin. I unbuttoned my jeans and started to shimmy out of them. Men from the opposite bank hollered and laughed. I shook my hips and smoothed the denim down my thighs. I was wearing short-shorts underneath the jeans. Groans of disappointment came from the opposite bank, even though everyone knew I wasn’t really going to strip in front of complete strangers.
Chuck shook his head. “You know how to get me going.”
I turned the sweatshirt inside out and draped it over the four-wheeler. I sat down on the clean spot. I reached out and unbuttoned Chuck’s jeans.
“Whoa,” he protested. “What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if I got you going,” I murmured as I kissed him. I slipped my fingers inside his jeans. He wasn’t all that hard, but after a few strokes he was standing proudly at full attention. The head of his cock peeked out from the opening in his jeans. Chuck looked around to see if anyone was watching, and I cuddled close enough to hide him from any curious onlookers.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this out here in the middle of all the mud and dirt,” he said.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me,” I shot back.
Chuck settled his hands on my waist. He held me lightly as I pulled his jeans down a little more. I could reach every inch of him, and no one else could see. I leaned forward so that our foreheads touched. I wrapped my hand around his cock and started with long, slow strokes. Chuck sighed and his hands tightened on my waist.
“Why do you do things like this?” he whispered.
“Things like what?”
“Things like jacking me off in the middle of Turkey Bay in front of everybody.”
“Nobody is looking. Are they?”
Chuck took a deep breath. He was already throbbing in my hand. “No.”
“But you wouldn’t mind if they did. Would you?”
Chuck’s blush was very becoming. I laughed at him and he blushed even harder.
“I do these things because I like pleasing you,” I said.
“I’ll make it up to you later.”
I grinned. Chuck was definitely not the kind of guy who would take pleasure and then not bother to give any in return. “I know you will.”
His cock jerked in my hand every time I reached the sensitive spot under his head.
I placed my thumb there and rubbed in slow circles. Chuck groaned. He was breathing hard and completely oblivious to everything that was happening down in the pit. His hands on my waist were clenching down tighter and tighter. I kissed him hard as he bucked gently into my hand.
“You’re going to make me come,” he murmured against my lips.
“Good.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he chuckled. I didn’t stop stroking. His whole body was tense. He was right on the verge. I eased the pressure of my hand and kept him right there at the finish line, but didn’t let him slip over it.
“You don’t know what to do?”
“Where am I going to come?”
I gave him a wicked smile. “Wherever you want.”
“But –“
I shut him up with a kiss. He closed his eyes and groaned against my lips. I tightened my hand on his cock and stroked fast and hard. Within seconds Chuck bucked into my hand. He spurted right between us. I covered the head of his cock with my free hand and kept stroking with the other. Chuck clenched his jaw for a long moment, then took a deep breath. His hands eased up on my waist. He chuckled deep in his chest.
“You heathen,” he said.
I raised my hand to my lips. Chuck’s eyes widened. I took my time in drinking and licking what I found there. He laughed out loud as I licked away the last drops and gave him a seductive wink. Then I reached down and buttoned his pants back up.
Chuck wrapped his arms around me. We both completely forgot that my clothes were clean and his weren’t. The cold seep of mud through my tank top made me shriek and pull away.
Chuck laughed and reached behind me. He turned the key and started the engine. It roared on the first try.
“You fixed it,” he said in mock surprise. “You handywoman, you.”
I cuddled closer to him. I was already covered with mud again, so why not? I kissed the only clean spot on his throat that I could find. He sighed with satisfaction.
“Baby,” he said, “Your mind is just as dirty as this four-wheeler.”
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