B has a hot-ass jeep. It’s an ’86 CJ 7 and I’ve increasingly fallen in love with it over the past year. She hasn’t been wanting to take it out a lot lately because, well, there’s a few things that she wants to work on. But on Saturday, in the 100 degree + off the charts humidity of a day, we took it out, doorless. It is my favorite way to country-drive.
I’m kind of fascinated with all of the corn that grows near her. She’s taught me a lot about it (hello, I didn’t think you could even learn that much about corn) and I’ve decided that I not only enjoy eating it from the cob, but watching it pop up in rows, too.
Later that evening we went to her sister’s pool party and left around 11:30 pm, still wearing our bathing suits because we had just recently gotten out of the pool (night swimming is the best).
It was still unbelievably hot and sticky at this hour so B decided she was driving home with no shirt, just her sports bra on. She called this “topless.” So I decided that I was going to be “topless” for real. I took off my bathing suit cover up and pulled the top part of my bathing suit down to my waist and let my tits hang out, literally. B was delighted.
I tell you what – I loved doorless jeep rides before, but now I’ve found a whole new love. The feeling of the air on hard nipples, leg propped up and head back, eyes closed, hair whipping in the wind – it was magical. B made me smell the air and taught me that was corn, fermenting. I opened my eyes to see walls of corn, taller than the jeep we were in. On top of them, floating and hoovering, were heaps of fireflies.
It was something else.