We are speeding along the two lane paved road which is flanked by dry grassy fields and quiet groves of bare deciduous trees. Blurring anonymously through a brown and gray still life. The cold wind hisses in through the barely open sunroof and a Queen classic pounds out of the speakers. Gasoline fumes faintly poison our fresh air but it’s intoxicating. I lay my left hand on his right thigh and wait while we accelerate uphill, the force of the car’s acceleration pressing me steadily backward into the curvy seat. Through his pants, I can trace one finger along the unseen hem of his boxers. Once we reach about 4800 RPMs, his leg flexes for the trade of gas for clutch and rapidly back again, and we’re off as if before we’d been sitting still..
My spine melts into the seat and watch him command the vehicle. I am such a goner.