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“Holy shit, are you ok?!" She asked, blue eyes piercing through his open visor. She was not a woman, she was a teenager. And she was beautiful. Lance swallowed, a wave of nausea crashing over him. He was in pain, but his body wasn't the source. He ached within, from embarrassment and shame.

“I uh… Yeah I'm fine," he spat out, working overtime to keep his voice steady through the chin bar of his helmet. “I gotta' go, I… work…" He felt warm hands on either side of his face, his eyes frozen in line with hers. The sound of cars on the nearby road disappeared, the whisper of the trees quieted to silence. “I uh…" He couldn't speak, from the adrenaline of his first bike wreck, and from the sudden confrontation with the owner of the horses he'd been ogling. He didn't expect someone so young, so beautiful, so…

“Are you ok?" She asked again, thumbs pressing into his cheeks firmly. Lance nodded, the visor of his helmet filling with her sweet scent. She smelled of horse. “Are you sure?"

“Yeah, thank you," Lance said, suddenly aware of the positioning of every muscle in his face. He tried his best to look normal, but it felt as if he'd twisted his face into the most wretched snarl, with this… girl on top of him, staring into his soul. He felt an icy bead of sweat drip down his armpit, disappearing into the fabric of his riding jacket. “I uh, I'm gonna' be late for work," he said, rising to his feet on unsteady boots.

“What do you do for work all the way out here?" She said, following after him as he turned towards his bike, rear tire still spinning lazily.

“Uhhh… Construct, construction," he said.

“That's cool," she said, trailing off on the last letter as he knelt down to try and lift the heavy adventure touring bike with jelly legs. She stooped beside him after realizing what he was doing, and he caught a glimpse of muscle in her strong thighs as she closed her eyes in concentration. They got the bike onto its center stand, and Lance immediately swung his leg over the saddle to take off, so severe was his flight response. Her hand met his on the handlebar, stopping him from running. He turned, met her eyes again. “What were you doing watching the horses the other day?" His mouth ran dry, and his teeth ached.

“I don't know," he said, eyes shifting towards his boot propped on the foot peg.

“Sure you do!" She shot back, eyes narrowing, wreathed in dark eyeliner.

“I like horses, and I don't get to see them often," he said after waiting forever, the words fighting to get out of his mouth.

“You should come see them after work today. What time do you get done?" Lance's mouth visibly dropped open, and he again felt the sour wave of nausea.

“Uhhhh."

“It's ok, I'll be home all day. Drop by after work, I'll hang around outside this afternoon and wait. The name's Alex, by the way."

Lance closed his mouth and nodded, felt her release his hand after a pregnant pause. He flicked his visor down, started the bike up, and took off.

***

He parked in his usual spot, not as early as he would've liked. Most of the guys were already there, listening to music in their cars as smoke rolled out the windows in thin tendrils. Lance wandered behind the tool trailer, and threw up. He hadn't eaten breakfast so it was largely water, but his whole body shook as he wretched and spat a few times, kneeling in the dew-drenched grass. When he returned to his bike, he returned to laughter. Charley mimed drinking, and Lance did his best performative laugh as he gulped in the cool morning's air. A couple draughts on his water bottle and a few saltines later, he stood with the rest of the guys around the trailer as they waited for the day to begin. Pete was a stickler for starting on time, yet he always managed to have them work an extra ten minutes at the end of the day - unpaid of course.

Lance's mind was filled with Alex and her horses, he kept breathing in through his nose as if he could somehow smell her again despite being miles down the road. His cheeks burned where she'd touched him, and he felt a deep excitement deep in his stomach. It was a strange, queasy excitement, as were all positive feelings: tinged with anxiety for Lance. Why on Earth had she been so ready to invite him over? He was clearly older than she was, and he'd been creeping on her fucking horses. Maybe she was having him over so she could have the cops come get him? Round and round his brain went, burning through every possible scenario it could think up as fast as it could. He was dying for the day to end.

“Lance, you ratty fuck, you gonna' do any work today?!" Charley yelled, waving a calloused hand in front of his face, the scent of his Marlboro Light breaking Lance's concentration on things outside of construction.

“I'm thinking about it," Lance replied.

“Well think about getting your fucking apron!" Charley roared, miming strapping a tool belt on. Lance realized, then, he'd been standing to look at the wall forms without doing anything, his tool belt still hanging on the fire extinguisher pole back in the trailer. He recoiled, walking briskly back to the tool trailer to get his tools, Pete laughing all the while.

He and Charley set to work on the forms with Luke, the three of them working together to stand up the 8-foot plywood structures, level them, and stake them in place with 2X4 lumber. The day absolutely dragged on, and Lance managed to hit his thumb with his hammer more than not, so absent was his mind. After cutting several lengths of plywood to the wrong size, Charley slapped him on the back with his trash-can lid hand. “The hell's gotten into you today? You're way off your game, bub."

“I know it, Charley, sorry. Stuff going on at home," Lance said, picking a touchy subject with the hope it would shut down conversation. Charley nodded, confirming that Lance had escaped the line of questioning. He ate lunch leaned up against his bike, too anxious to sit still for any amount of time. After lunch was more of the same: constant inattention and little mistakes until he threw his tool belt into the trailer, duplex nails skittering everywhere.

“That's a problem for 'Tomorrow Lance,'" he said, strapping his helmet on. He was the first one off the jobsite that day, tearing down the dirt road, second only to Pete. It was an unspoken rule that the foreman be the first off the site. As Lance tore past the white company truck, he smiled behind his tinted visor and thought, “Never said I couldn't be the first one down the road…"

He took his turn down the small back road, the road none of the others seemed to take. This was Alex's road, and the nausea returned in full force as he recognized some of the sporadic neighboring houses. Her house was quite secluded, so he had plenty of time to work himself into a lather until he stopped on the road in front of her house. Dared he? He saw her stand up on her porch, tan skin waving him down the driveway. He swallowed, trembled, and made a shaky turn down her driveway.

Once he was off the bike, he waved sheepishly at her. “Sorry I'm so filthy, I uh, you know," he said, rubbing his neck with a gritty hand, eyes on the ground, one foot scuffing at the heel of the other.

“Oh I don't mind!" She said, voice melting on his skin, hair on the nape of his neck bristling. “How was work?" She asked, walking down the steps. The gentle jiggle of her thighs from step to step was intoxicating, her well-tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight between athletic shorts and dark brown work boots.

“It was all right. Busy day as usual," He said, unstrapping his helmet and hanging it on his mirror. “This morning, I… uhh… forgot to tell you my name. I was pretty flustered," he paused. “My name's Lance."

“Good to meet you, Lance. Welcome to my house!" She said, opening her arms and turning. “For what it's worth, I was a little nervous too. I was afraid of you when I first saw you, I thought you were like some old creep trying to see me in the shower or something," She said. “But then you crashed, and I saw you were pretty young, like me!" Lance smiled and nodded, unzipping his riding jacket. “With my parents not around, can't be too careful, you know," She said, instantly blushing. “I suppose if you were a creep, that info would mean a lot to you. Oops."

“Not that it means anything," Lance started. “But I'm not a creep. You're safe! I couldn't hurt a fly." Alex laughed, leaning against the railing and cocking her broad hips. Her right hand rose to her braid, twirling the loose end.

“It doesn't mean nothing, Lance," She said, flashing a quick smile. Lance ruffled his own hair, matted from the liner of his hard hat, rummaging through his dirty panniers for a baseball cap. He whipped it over his head, backwards, and rubbed his hands together a few times as if it would somehow remove some of that horrid clay and dirt. “That's not a bad idea, be right out," she said, pointing to his hat. She emerged, braid tucked through the adjustment hole in the back of a black Cummins baseball cap. “Sun's bright today, you must've been straight up cooking!"

“It wasn't that bad…" he said, rubbing his arms, focusing in on the gritty feel of sawdust and concrete. “But this shade does feel pretty good."

“This little spot isn't a bad location! Normally the flies would be so bad in the shade, but for some reason we're in like a mosquito dead zone," She said, beckoning him to follow her as she began slowly meandering towards the paddock. “Let's go see the horses!"

Lance said nothing, his stomach flipping. He'd never had any kind of opportunity like this before… It was terrifying. He very instantly didn't want to do it.

“They're Shire horses, the both of them. We've a male and a female: Griswold and Abby. The one with the diamond on his nose is Grizz, and the one with the spots is Abby," Lance sheepishly stared at Alex's ass as they walked up to the metal fence of the paddock. He feared looking at the horses so close, refusing to do it. They were all he could smell; his ears drank deeply of their breathing and stomping, the gentle rustling of their tails as they swung from side to side behind their great bodies. “They're coming over!" Alex said, looking back at Lance, who was standing a good six or so feet back from the fencing. “You all right?" she asked, cocking her head off to the side ever so gently.

“Yeah, I'm good, I'm just… I'm a nervous person and I've never seen horses up close, and they're really beautiful and…"

“Come on, dude!" She said, running up to him and taking his hand. “They're super safe! I'll make sure." She took him right up to the fence, his eyes drilling a hole in the ground between his feet. “You're terrified, aren't you?" Lance couldn't speak, he just nodded gently. “Awee, bud…" She said, rubbing her thumb over his. “You can stand back, and watch me pet them! We'll take it easy, no need to overwhelm you, dude." Lance gulped, stumbling backwards a few feet before pulling his eyes up. They were massive, towering over both he and Alex. She clambered up a few rungs of the fencing, straddling the top bar. Grizz nuzzled her hand, and she scratched at his broad nose while Abby waited patiently off to the side. “See! Super gentle!" Grizz tossed his head, mane flaring up in the gentle breeze before falling flat on his great neck. Between Alex's beautiful body and the enormous horses, Lance felt himself growing hard rapidly, imagination taking control of his thoughts. She hugged the huge head of the dark horse to her chest, and it nibbled gingerly at her shorts. She laughed, and he watched as her breasts swelled against the horse's head with each rise of her chest. He willed his erection to die, to go away, lest she turn round and…

“See! They aren't so bad!" Alex turned around to face him, arm under the Grizz's chin, absentmindedly scratching at the bristles on his neck. Lance flinched visibly, turning partially away from her in a vain attempt to hide his excitement. “Where're you going?" she asked, dark eyebrows raised towards her blonde hair.

“Uh nowhere, I uh I just have to go to the bathroom," he said, cursing himself inside for such a moronic excuse. “Long day, you know…"

“No I get it!" she said. “I'll show you inside in a minute." She turned and kissed Grizz on the muzzle, the contact lingering for second after second, far more than an absent peck. Lance grew impossibly harder, mind racing as he watched her breathe deep and exhale a sweet breath against the stallion's body. She jumped down from the top of the fence, Lance's eye taking in every single inch of her body as she landed with a faint puff of dust off the ground. “C'mon in!" She said at the door, Lance in tow.

She bent down to take off her boots, the stitching of her athletic shorts drawn taught over her ass momentarily, before she stood again, braid flapping over her back. “I try to keep the place pretty clean, if you don't mind taking your boots off, too."

“Oh of course!" Lance said, ripping open the Velcro fasteners of his riding boots, ripping them off.

“It's down the hall, first door on the left. Something to drink? Water, lemonade?"

“Uh, I'll take a glass of water, if you don't mind. I ran out today at work."

“Of course! That must've been horrible!" Lance relieved himself in the quaint bathroom, air conditioners working away in distant windows. It was, as always, a struggle to go to the bathroom with an erection, and he fought doubly hard to avoid creating a mess in this beautiful girl's bathroom. Upon finishing up, he oriented himself such that his arousal wasn't nearly as visible. He had long since given up any pretense of getting rid of his erection, so vivid were the images flitting through his mind. The look of bliss on Alex's face as she kissed her horse, the vision of her, just now, bent over before him in the breezeway… He looked himself in the mirror, slapping either cheek as if it would clear his mind even fractionally.

He emerged into the kitchen, Alex nodding towards a tall glass of icewater on the island in the center of the kitchen. He stood opposite her, drinking a small sip of the frigid water. “Forgive me for being so blunt, but I have to ask… How old are you, Alex?"

“I'm sixteen!" She said, blushing and taking her turn to look at the floor and scuff her feet on the tiles. “I figure you're a lot older than me?" Lance puzzled at that, wondering what reason there could be for her to be considering his age.

“I'm nineteen," he replied, voice quiet.

“Oh, that's not too too bad!" She said, visibly perking back up.

“I suppose not!" he said, hands shaking. Images of her sprawled out over the counter, naked, filled his mind. As if she'd noticed the absence behind his eyes, she cleared her throat.

“Maybe tomorrow you can try petting ole Grizz? He's really a sweetheart," she said. “Very gentle," she whispered, softer than before.

“Maybe!" Lance replied. “I'm such a nervous person, I'm sorry. I'm terribly awkward." It felt good to get it out into the air. “I've never gotten so close to a horse before, you know? It's intimidating. It's kind of been my life's dream to do it, you know?"

“I totally get it! I suppose I'm spoiled, having two of my own. But it never gets old."

The two of them talked back and forth idly for about a half hour, before a sense of unease and dread filled Lance.

“I hate to cut it short, Alex, but I should probably get home. Before the old man gets worried." It was a blatant lie, but she wouldn't know better. He just needed some time alone to process what the fuck today had been.

“Of course! You should come by again after work tomorrow! And I'll wave in the morning!" she said, blue eyes beaming through her dark eyeliner.

“I think I'd like that very much," Lance said, putting on his boots slowly.

She saw him off, and he waved at her as he hit the pavement. She waved enthusiastically back, chest shaking ever so slightly as she did. As the miles ticked by on the Yamaha's odometer, Lance's shaking subsided, but his mind continued to race. What was going on? Was he about to wake up in his bed, upstairs, the last two days having never happened.