Chapter 5

When I awoke the next morning, Mercedes’ fragrant, raven-hued hair was spread all over my chest, her head was pillowed on my left shoulder and her legs were intertwined with mine. Earlier, just before dawn, she’d awakened me by throwing her left leg over my body, inserting a hard-on I was too sleepy to know I had inside her and riding cowgirl on me for a long, sweet time until we both came.

Evidently, she’d only partly dismounted. Her satiny flesh felt wonderful against mine. I’d dated a few women since my divorce, but Mercedes was the first with whom I’d felt any connection.

She began stirring and I kissed her forehead softly.

“Mmmmmm,” she purred. She raised her head and offered her lips for a proper kiss.

“Ouch... !” she complained.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m lying on my hair,” she explained. “I captured myself and can’t get up!” she giggled.

We untangled ourselves and searched out the locks of her hair that had made their way under her or my body overnight. She sat up in bed and gathered her hair behind her. Her breasts jiggled enticingly.

“Down, boy,” she murmured when she saw me watching appreciatively. But she was smiling happily. “I... , “ she said firmly, “need a shower in the worst way, Cowboy,” she remarked.

“Uhhhhh ... well, just by chance,” I offered, “ ... so do I and...”

She jumped off the bed and danced around the bed to me. She held out her hand companionably and we hurried into the big bathroom that had been Mom and Dad’s. She wouldn’t let my hands do any exploring in the steamy shower stall, saying if we got started, it would be suppertime before we got out and she was too hungry for that.

I made my bones with her later by doing a workmanlike job shampooing her long, beautiful hair. Afterward, I brushed it out, without pulling too terribly hard. She was purring by the time I finished with her.

We had a good country breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs, accompanied by toast and jam. I learned she was a proud card-carrying member of the Carnivore’s Association of North America, of which I’d never heard. I believed she was a true carnivore, since she’d made quick work of her steak last night and had just downed every extra slice of bacon on the table. She admitted there was no such group; I said we should start one. She sat on my lap and kissed me. I was in heaven. Breakfast is a really lovely way to start the day.

In one of my T-shirts and nothing else, Mercedes found her phone and called her friend Stephanie to check in and assure her I hadn’t murdered and dismembered Mercedes overnight, or something like that. They talked for a while. I paid almost no attention and, after pulling on a pair of jeans and my boots, I spent some time taking the trash out behind the barn to the fire pit for burning and mucking out the portion of the big barn dedicated to the horse stable.

I walked back in the house and grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator. Mercedes had finished her call and her phone was on my charging station on the sideboard, along with mine. And then it hit me.

“GOT IT!” I exclaimed. I’d just figured out what had been bugging me about blue jeans, Mercedes, and horses.

Mercedes looked at me doubtfully.

“Mom’s stuff ... she left all of it—!” I made a chopping motion with my right hand. “Let me back up. Mom and Dad didn’t want this ranch anymore; they deeded it over to me to sell to whoever. They’re off in a big-ass RV wandering around the country and they said anything in the house I wanted I could have, but anything I didn’t want, I was to burn, okay?”

Mercedes gave a short nod to my “Cliffs Notes” version of events.

“And some of my Mom’s stuff ... they’re all clean and stuff ... are here—like a couple pair of blue jeans!” I looked her over appraisingly. “I bet a pair of her jeans would fit you ... ahhh ... well enough, anyway. You could go riding in them ... if you still want to?”

She nodded brightly. We scampered upstairs. I showed Mercedes where Mom’s old closet was and she began to go through the contents to see if she could find a pair of slacks or jeans she could wear. I busied myself opening my laptop and starting the video chat app. Just to be polite, I was going to ask Mom if we could “borrow” the jeans ... and besides, I owed them a call.

“Hi, Sweetie,” Mom greeted me when the connection was made. “Been thinking of you; how’re things going?”

“Just fine, Mom ... sold Chip and Tattler last week...” (They were two of our horses.) “ ... and I think I have a buyer for the buffalo ... won’t know ‘til sometime in the next three or four days whether it’s a deal or not. Other than that, most of the farm machinery is sold, and ... things are going pretty well, I think. How’re ya’ll doing?”

I heard some muffled giggling from the direction of Mom’s closet and a couple of soft thuds. I looked around to see Mercedes hauling a fairly large box out of the closet. I went back to listening to Mom as she explained about the Meteor Crater National Landmark, and wasn’t Winslow Arizona in some song way back when?

After a quick moment, I told her Winslow figured in a song by the Eagles called “Take It Easy,” and told her when it came out. She was thrilled. I didn’t tell her it was a quick search on Bing that made me seem super knowledgeable when, in fact, I’d been as much in the dark as Mom at first.

Mercedes caught my eye, holding up something I guessed she’d found in the closet. I looked ... and my jaw dropped. After a second or two, I grinned.

In her right hand, Mercedes was holding up a pair of fur-lined handcuffs and in her left a matching set of ankle cuffs. I took the handcuffs from her.

“Uh, Mom... ?” I asked. “What are these, pray tell?” I held up the restraints. I saw the key to unlock them was taped to a length of metal chain. I waited, allowing the cuffs to dangle and twist in front of the laptop’s camera.

“Dang it, Thom, I thought you cleaned out the closet,” Mom asked furiously, directing the question to her left, off-screen.

“Nope!” Dad’s voice remarked succinctly. “You said YOU were going to get your box of goodies and put it in the RV, honey ... remember?”

Mom faced back around and pursed her lips. “Well, Sweetie,” she finally said, somewhat coyly, “ ... sometimes mommies and daddies get kinda frisky ... and—”

I interrupted. “Mom, I know about the birds and the bees, alright?” I had to grin. “Now tell me what these are all about.”

She took a deep breath, clearly trying to think of an escape giving some kind of answer. At length, she shrugged her shoulders. “Matt, honey, your Dad and I ... we’re old ... older’n you ... but we aren’t dead!” She showed her teeth in a thoroughly amused grin. “And we do like our fun and games, okay?”

Mercedes handed me a double strap-on harness. I blinked, and then held it in front of the laptop camera.

“And what is this, Mom?” I asked.

Mom took another deep breath. “Well, hell... , “ she began. She looked crossly to the side. I was sure that was where Dad was lurking.

“Dammit, Thom, you shoulda reminded me about the box, dang it!” She didn’t get a reply and seemingly didn’t expect one. “So ... Sweetie ... maybe perhaps ... like on his birthday ... your Dad gets really, really lucky ... if, you know, one of my girlfriends comes over on ... ahhh ... his special night and we...”

TMI, absolutely too much information, but I was having a ball, teasing my Mom. Apparently there were many things I never knew about my parents. On the other hand, I did understand they were a vigorous, thoroughly affectionate couple, and apparently, adventurous. I had a flash memory of one time...

“Oh, shit! You mean like when Aunt Janet came over and stayed the night?” I asked. “Aunt” Janet wasn’t my aunt; she was just a close friend of my Mom’s. Perhaps a lot closer than I’d known.

“Ummm ... mmmm... , “ Mom mumbled. She didn’t exactly say yes, but her muttering didn’t sound like a “no,” either. Wow!

I couldn’t get over it. “So... , “ when you sent me down to my cabin on Dad’s birthday that time, y’all were—”

“Don’t be crude, Matthew,” Mom cautioned me primly.

“I won’t, Mom,” I promised, “ ... but why the... ?”

“‘Cause I have a policy, boy, when your Dad gets some ... I get some!”

I didn’t say another word. My mind was well and truly blown.

“Hi, Sweetie,” my Mom called out.

I did not know what Mom was up to now. She’d already greeted me.

“Is my son treatin’ you right?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you introduce us, Matthew?” she said, clearly to me.

I was confused. Mercedes was not in the frame of the camera and she was being quiet, so Mom shouldn’t have known anyone was there with me.

“Son... , “ Mom said reprovingly, “ ... you do remember my floor mirror is over there in back of you, right?”

I looked behind me. Standing against the wall, and aimed at just the right angle, was the old full-length mirror Mom kept in the bedroom. There was Mercedes, looking down at some other instrument of pleasure, centered right in the reflected image. I casually—well, as casually as I could—reached out and pulled the tail of my T-shirt farther down over Mercedes’ beautifully rounded behind.

I sighed. Things were getting complicated.

“Mom, say hello to Mercedes ... Mercedes, my Mom...” I said, introducing them.

Mercedes waved at the mirror, then turned around and put her face next to mine so the camera could pick her up. “Hi, Mrs. Singletary,” she said cheerfully.

Mom chuckled. “Honey, after the conversation you’ve been listening to, I don’t think we need to be all that formal—call me Lea ... yeah ... just like in Star Wars!” Mom said merrily. She was grinning happily.

“OK, Lea... , “ Mercedes replied briskly, “ ... I think it’s sweet how you and your son can talk so ... free like that. It’s wonderful.”

They talked for a bit and I kind of tuned them out. I was pretty sure Mom couldn’t see my left hand caressing the inside of Mercedes’ right thigh ... but I wasn’t sure if something like that had to be hidden anymore. Strange morning. Then Dad’s face came into view from the side and he said hello to Mercedes and then dropped back out of sight. The last I saw of him was the back of his head sliding downward out of view.

Mom lurched backward a little, grabbed at the edge of the table, and then came back forward. I was puzzled for a second...

“MOM... ! Is ... uh ... Dad ... uh... ?”

My Mom looked at me mischievously. “Baby, you don’t think you’re the only one Uncle Jake ... ah ... counseled ... do you?” she asked sweetly. She gasped and hunched forward again.

I was in shock. My Mom knew Uncle Jake taught me everything I knew about eating pussy? What? Did she also know some of his girlfriends taught me other things?

“Sugar, I gotta go, okay?” Mom said unsteadily. Her eyes shifted as she glanced at Mercedes. “Don’t you two do anything we wouldn’t do, okay... ?” She reached out to tap a key on her laptop.

“MOM!” I threw in before she could kill the chat. “Just what would you not do?”

She pondered that for a long moment.

“Honey ... I’ll have to get back to you on that, okay?” she said sweetly. “Nice to meet you, Mercedes,” she called. She stabbed a finger at her keyboard and her image died.

I closed my laptop and looked around at Mercedes. I was shocked, but not dismayed.

“Cowboy... , “ Mercedes cooed, “how bad do you need to go horsy riding, anyway?” she asked, strolling toward the bed with the matched set of cuffs in hand.

I didn’t waste time answering; I was moving fast in her direction. She had the T-shirt off and was sprawled naked on the bed in an instant with her wrists in the cuffs and her thighs spread wide when I got there.

We didn’t go horseback riding that day, or the next. We did go riding on the fourth day; we needed the break.

That’s how things were, all through the weekend and into the next week. What we had changed on Thursday.

“Honey ... Matt,” Mercedes asked softly at breakfast. She’d been quiet since we woke up and I could see something was bothering her.

“Uh-huh?” I replied steadily. I was sure I was about the find out what the problem was.

“You know Stephanie, right?”

“I do ... well, I don’t know, know her ... but I know who you’re talking about, yes.”

Mercedes nodded. “Could I ... could we ask her to come out to stay with us? Would that be all right?”

I was taken aback. Things between Mercedes and me had been going great. We fit together incredibly well—in bed and out of it. We did the morning farm chores together, fixed meals together, took walks almost down to the road, went horseback riding, and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company.

Or so I’d thought. Why was she wanting to bring someone out here who could only make it harder for Mercedes and me to connect on even deeper levels? On the other hand, her question had been about bringing Stephanie out to stay with “us,” which was an interesting way to phrase things.

“Sure,” I said evenly. There was no sense throwing up roadblocks. If Mercedes didn’t want to be alone with me, it wasn’t going to happen, so I might just as well get out in front of whatever was happening.

Mercedes brightened immediately. “Thanks, honey! I’ll call her, okay?”

“You bet.”

She reached out to hold my hand as the connection was made and pulled me down beside her. She didn’t want me to leave while she talked to her friend. Seemed to me that was a good sign.

“Hi, Stephie,” Mercedes greeted her girlfriend, “Cowboy says ‘yeah’ so it’s a go! ... uh-huh, we can do some routines ... the living room has a hardwood floor and ... yes, Stephanie ... uh, horses—yes, the airplane too. Stephanie—STEPHANIE!—quit talking!” She rolled her eyes while looking up at me.

“Okay, yeah, we’ll do all kinds of things ... just pack—Stephanie ... Stephanie ... STEPHIE—hush! LISTEN to me, woman!

“Just pack a few things in a ... no, you won’t need much ... we’re pretty much ... ah ... clothing optional, okay? Yeah, I do know ... listen ... pack me a bag with my brushes and hairdryer and ... yeah, you know what I need ... right!”

She’d said, “we” again, referring to me and her—I liked that. It made me feel better about whatever this was.

A thought occurred to me. I waved a hand to get her attention.

“Hang on a minute, Steph,” Mercedes told the girl at the other end of the line.

“Does she know how to get here?” I asked. Everything Mercedes had talked about was for Stephanie to bring things to the ranch. Mercedes breathed in and exhaled in exasperation. She shook her head. I smiled.

“If she can get to McReady’s Airfield, we can go pick her up in the Cessna, whatcha think?” I gave her the address and started some driving instructions.

“She has a GPS thingie,” Mercedes said, cutting me off. She gave Stephanie the address and looked up at me. “When?” she asked.

“How soon can she get there?”

Mercedes inquired and got an answer. “ ... Couple a’ hours?”

I nodded, looking at the wall clock. “Okay, tell her we’ll be there at 1:00 o’clock!” And then I thought of something Mercedes told Stephanie.

I motioned for her to cover the microphone. “Was she upset about the ‘clothing optional’ thing you told her?” I asked.

Mercedes grinned broadly. “Huh-uh. Steph is ... ahhhh ... well ... maybe a little bit of an exhibitionist...”

I answered her grin with one of my own. I had a naughty idea. “Okay ... tell her ... well, how ‘bout putting her on speaker and I’ll tell her.”

Mercedes did that, tapping an icon on the screen and setting the phone on the table. I sat down next to her.

“Stephanie?” I asked. “Hey, this is ... uhhhh ... Cowboy...”

“Hi, Cowboy!” she replied brightly. She wasn’t hesitant or bashful. She’d talked to me when I subbed for Mercedes during a few of their marathon conversations so Mercedes could make a quick pit stop.

“Say, Steph, we’ll fly down there to meet you at McReady’s, like Mercedes said, but sweetheart, I think you should know this is ‘National Nude Flying Day’ ... did you know that?”

“Mmmm ... uh ... no ... what does that mean?” Stephanie asked, baffled.

I grinned at Mercedes. “Well, Stephanie, what it means is that everyone in a small plane must fly nude if they take off between the hours of 7:00 AM and 11:00 PM ... and that would definitely include us. I’m just as sorry as I can be, but I don’t know any way to get around it,” I told her.

Mercedes had both palms over her mouth, stifling a laugh. Her eyes were dancing merrily.

“Well... , “ Stephanie said dubiously, “I guess it’s okay ... uh, do I need to drive to the airport with no clothes on?”

“Oh, no ... not at all,” I told her. I didn’t want the police arresting her en route. “But when you get into the parking lot at McReady’s—well, you’ll need to be nude when you ... exit the car and walk to the plane, okay—very important!”

I was so full of it! But I was having a ball, playing a trick on her. “Be sure not to leave the car ‘til you see Mercedes and me taxi up to the side of the field nearest the parking lot, okay?”

“Okay,” Stephanie said happily.

I rose and walked out to the kitchen to make some quick sandwiches. We’d made a nice beef roast with all the fixin’s last night for dinner and I had visions of roast beef sandwiches dancing in my head.

Mercedes helped me do a quick preflight on the Cessna. It was the first such I’d ever done stark naked, and the most fun too. We did put a change of clothes in the luggage storage compartment, but we flew naked except for sandals.

“Are you sure this’ll be okay?” Mercedes asked for the umpteenth time.

“Honey,” I replied patiently, “I can’t tell you how few times I’ve been pulled over by sky cops while flying from one place to another—oh, yes I can! Never!” I grinned. This was going to be so good!

McReady’s was a small airfield on the outskirts of the city. It didn’t have a tower and wasn’t in the big city’s controlled space. It was seldom used; it catered to the weekend private pilot who just wanted to get in the air and fly around a while. I knew the field, the owner, and the staff there very well. I liked them and they liked me.

I did a flyby across the airfield, looking down into the parking lot. It was three minutes until 1:00 and ... THERE! It was a small car pulling in. I held the Cessna in a steep bank to the right, letting Mercedes look down things over.

“Is that Stephanie in that baby-shit green thing?” I asked.

“It’s not baby shi—yeah, that’s her,” Mercedes told me.

I straightened up, flew my downwind leg and then dropped the Cessna in for a good landing. As we taxied toward the parking lot, a pretty blonde got out of the car, naked except for sandals. She walked to the edge of the grassy landing strip, carrying two small pieces of luggage.

She walked confidently up to the Cessna and accepted my hand signals to go around to Mercedes’ side. In seconds, Mercedes was outside the plane and passing the small bags inside to me. I hastily tossed them into the passenger seat behind me. Stephanie got in and settled into the remaining back seat and Mercedes scrambled into her seat, up front with me. She buckled her seat belt hurriedly, her face flushed with excitement. We were all grinning at our naughtiness.

I gunned the engine, taxied back out, and got the plane airborne a couple of minutes later.

“November, three-one-niner-two Poppa Romeo,” said a voice on the radio. It was Gene, the airfield’s owner. He wasn’t a controller, the airfield didn’t even have a tower to work from, so this was probably a social call. I motioned for Mercedes and Stephanie to don the earphones I’d set out for them.

“Three-one-niner-two Poppa Romeo!” I replied, beaming a smile at no one and nothing.

“Ahhh, niner-two Poppa Romeo ... request you return to McReady field for ... uh ... passenger processing and inspection, copy?” Gene was just barely able to avoid laughing out loud. I could hear chuckles and some commentary in the background.

I smiled even more broadly. “Negative, McReady,” I replied. “Two-Poppa-Romeo is en route to the home port for a ... for a vital sun worshipping event, ten-four?”

“Mmmmm ... you have a whole big bunch of folks who would really like for you to stay a while and socialize, Matt,” he told me, abandoning the attempt to appear even quasi-professional.

“I understand, Gene,” I said, “ ... but it’s getting awfully, awfully urgent for me to get where I’m going, copy?”

“You dog!” he snapped back at me.

“Woof ... woof,” I responded, laughing out loud. “ Three-one-niner-two Poppa Romeo, out!” I set about setting a course set to fly home. I showed the girls how to switch their headsets to the intercom position.

“Okay ... what’s going on?” Stephanie asked.

Mercedes giggled. “You been had, girl,” she told Stephanie. “There’s no such thing as ‘Nude Flying Day’,” Mercedes told her friend.

“Very glad to ... SEE you, Miss Stephanie,” I said jokingly, offering my hand for a handshake.