“Kell, he’s not on my phone,” I say with a shake of my head, watching as she pouts childishly and tosses my phone across our apartment, thankfully it lands on our plush sofa instead of smashing onto our hardwood floors. “Hey don’t take it out on the phone,” I say with a giggle. “Come on Beth tell me who he is, I’m dying here,” she says melodramatically, placing a manicured hand against her heart with full pleading eyes. “My lips are sealed, now go get the paper will you,” I say with a giggle and get up to make coffee, however I don’t hear her moving towards the door and turn to face her, smiling as I’m meet with crossed arms and a big frown. “You know if the wind changes your face will stay that way,” I giggle but she just shakes her head, sighing deeply I run a hand through my hair and sit back down in front of her. “Tell me who he is Beth,” her big green eyes are pointed at me and I get a weird sense of shame run through me, I’ve never lied to Kelly and here I am sneaking behind. Beautiful country, to be sure, but I was more interested in living vistas with captivating forms of movement than landscapes. Then, Mom seemed to get tired. She leaned forward over the neck of her horse, with her hands falling to its shoulders and grasping its mane. She seemed to be resting. But the interesting side effect was that, by leaning forward, her butt was prominently displayed, the tan riding breaches pulling tight around her cheeks and clearly outlining her panties. It was as if she was kneeling on all fours, brazenly displaying her ass in tantalizing, repetitive little rocking motions. My eyes stayed glued to her butt all the way to the next hut.That evening was a repeat of the night before. We sat outside in the pleasant, waning sun as darkness fell over us. Dad got up and went to bed, leaving the lantern on but turned down low. Mom stayed behind until we could hear Dad snoring softly. She didn't talk, and neither did I. I felt tense, but didn't know if she did. I was.
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