Moaningful Confessions | The Girl Next Door

Moaningful Confessions | The Girl Next Door

Me and Jade had been neighbours for as long as I can remember. Growing up in the hinterlands of the south, we had gone to school in Gore together. Even as we got into the saddle of puberty, I had never really seen her as a potential romantic filly — I was in a stable relationship, and besides, she was a dedicated horse girl who didn’t show much interest in men, let alone me.

It all changed one sunny afternoon in mid-January. We were home on break, the both of us working full trot on our parent’s farms. The Otago Southern Southland Regional A&P show was coming up, and like all the young colts in our region, we were keen to see how green the pastures were on the other farms, if you know what I mean.

It was at the end of the A&P show by the time we finally crossed paths. The tractor displays, the sheepdog showdowns, and the Heaven is Hay exhibit had all by this time finished, and most of the boomers seemed completely cantered off jugs of Speights. The smell of piss and trodden-on candy-floss began to permeate the air, like how undertones of eu de manure always rises with the sun on a frosty morning, or how the sweet scent of burning rubber rubs off on your snapback at the end of a long night of manies.

Anyways, there was only one event left — the showjumping trials.

It was my mum, actually, who told me I had to go say hi to her. I found her Jade, (not my mum) at the far end of the stables. She had a long face on, and was sobbing into her mane of luscious blonde hair, which was plaited and adorned with tartan ribbons.

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly.

“I couldn’t hack it,” she wailed, falling into my arms. “My god Jade, you mean you fell off your pony?” I said gallantly. “No,” she said, hoarsely, “they played the wrong song! They put on Patti Smith instead of Yannis Philippakis and it stalled me.”

It was at that moment that I noticed how warm her body was. “Ah that dastardly Brian Jelks from Mataura Station!” I murmured softly. “I always knew he was a braggart and a blackheart even before he got a cd walkman in year five…” she petered off, and looked up at me longingly.

We kissed slowly. I savoured the taste of salt on her lips. Before I knew it, her jodhpurs were halfway down her flanks, and I was mounting her, her arms splayed against the wall of the stile. “Oh Clyde,” she whinnied. “You make me giddy, up in every inch of my being.”

All of a sudden, the gate shot open. It was Pinto Trotter, the stationmaster. “Jeepers!” he brayed. “If I had known you kids were going for a ride, I would have cleared the stables. Have fun kids, I won’t tell on you,” he chuckled. He hucked me a hi-five with a wink, shut the gate with a clang, and went on his merry way, his footsteps echoing down the concrete corridor as he whistled a jaunty tune.

“Take me to the finish line,” Jade moaned, handing me her riding crop, “you’re such a stallion.” “Nay,” I nickered coyly, slowing down my phallic gait to a tölt. “I’m just a common cob.”

“You’re a regular racehorse,” she sighed, as I filled her with my ivermectin.

This article first appeared in Issue 24, 2021.
Posted 4:00pm Sunday 26th September 2021 by Critic.