"Fuck my tits that's good shit!"
After a long, hard pull on the bottle of homemade blackberry wine that Bobby had retrieved from under the seat, Country wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a dark streak-shaped stain.
Jamming the bottle between her legs, she leaned over it and reached for the volume on the stereo system as Skynyrd broke the air with the opening chords of Sweet Home.
"Turn it up!" she exclaimed loudly, dancing in her seat.
Bobby watched her, fascinated from beneath his sweat-soaked ball cap.
"Jeezus girl...how old are you?" he said.
Country giggled. "I'm old enough," she said, flashing him a killer smile from under her dirty blonde bangs as her blues eyes danced.
"Old enough," Bobby repeated. By the looks of her, he judged she had to be eighteen. At least he hoped so anyway.
"Oh stop frettin' boy, I turned eighteen last month and you know it." Raising her arms, she moved her shoulders, dancing from the waist up to the beat.
"You got ID?" he joked...sort of.
Grabbing the hem of her t-shirt, Country pulled it up and over her breasts.
She was braless.
"Is that good enough?"
Caught off guard, Bobby's eyes widened, gorging on her firm, totally bare breasts. They were much bigger than they had looked under her shirt and she had bikini top shaped tan lines. The whiteness of her skin inside the tan lines made it look like she was wearing an invisible bra.
"Uh..." he stammered, before recovering "yep...I reckon that'll do," he said as his young cock swelled in his jeans.
With that, Country smiled and pulled her t-shirt over her head and off and tossed it on the seat between them.
"Want some?" she teased at him, shaking her bare boobs. He stared at them incredulous. Then, shoving the bottle at him, she grinned.
"I mean this."
Taking the bottle, he pulled at it, leaving a stain on the back of his own hand. "You're crazy girl," he grinned goofily back at her from behind the wheel.
"You ain't seen nothing," Country laughed.
Skynyrd suddenly gave way to Randy Houser, describing how country feels.
"HELL YAY-YAH!" Country hollered as the sweet, opening guitar chords belted the air. "My song!"
Pushing the door to the pickup open, she jumped out...planting her bare feet in the soft undergrowth of the forest floor and danced, twisting her body. Still holding onto the bottle, she swayed in perfect time to the music.
Her bare breasts swayed with her.