Elizabeth Chambers smiled as she gripped the wheel tightly of the John Deere tractor she controlled, made the wide swing, and then with fluid motion that only came from years of farm life, dropped the disc harrow and began to churn up the fertile soil. As the tractors eight tires dug into the dirt and its motor labored from the harrow it was dragging, she looked to either side. For acres the freshly upturned soil stretched as far as the eye could see. That is except for one narrow strip of virgin soil that her tractor now straddled. As the harrow began to pulverize this last remaining strip, Liz watched as her machine and implement began to kick up dust and send it blowing gently across the flat ground that was her home.

If a small pebble had not lodged inside her shoe, her mind might have drifted into deep thought as it often did when spending the day inside a tractor. To make matters worse, it was her right foot and the once she used to push the clutch on the tractor. Grimacing one last time as she upshifted her tractor, Liz set about to remedying the situation.

As the tractor chugged across the field, she withdrew her leg up into her lap and pulled off her shoe. For comfort she liked those white canvas sneakers that did not need to be unlaced in order to be removed and tipped it upside down hoping to see a small rock fall out. Other than a little dust she did not see anything, so after making a small steering correction to make sure her tractor was still aligned with the last remaining strip of untilled ground, she pulled off her sock as well. Shaking it, she watched as the tiniest of pebbles fell to the rubberized floor of the tractor. With a smile, she turned her attention to her other shoe and did the same thing, if only to ensure that her shoes were rock-free.

By that time she was nearing the end of the field so she kicked the shoes and socks into the corner of the cab not bothering to put them back on. Perhaps fifty years before operating a tractor barefoot would have been unheard of, but with the tractors now coming equipped with comfort cabs, Liz did not give it another thought. As she looked over her shoulder she also pulled a lever and watched as the wings of the disc harrow began to fold up while the wheels began to press down and lift the harrow discs out of the soil in preparation of transport.

As she pressed her bare foot into the clutch pedal, the serrated pad that was designed to keep a farmers foot from slipping off the pedal, pressed harshly into her foot, but hardly pain she could not endure. She only had a few shifts to make in any case as she got the tractor headed down the county road and towards her home. As the wind began to blow through the open cab door, Liz had time to look down at her clothes and smile.

Once a month, her best friend and her took a much needed break from farm life and headed into Yorkton, Saskatchewan, a town over three hours away. Liz smiled because she knew clothing would be nothing like the white canvas sneakers, white slouch socks and denim overalls she now wore. In fact she was quite sure it would be in dark contrast to these clothes. She smiled so wantonly because it had started out so innocently, with each one of them picking out each others clothes. The rules were simple; no matter what was chosen, the clothing choice had to be worn. With each subsequent trip into town, the clothes had grown more daring and Liz could only imagine what lay in wait.

As Liz pulled the tractor into the driveway and let the giant rumble of the engine come to a stop near their pole barn, she watched her husband toiling away on the broken down planter. Scooping her shoes and socks up off the cab floor, she strolled by stopping only long enough for a quick peck on the cheek.

"The west field is disked, but it's pretty wet on the north side still."

"Yeah it must be, so wet you had to take your shoes and socks off to wade through it huh? Why don't you take the rest of those clothes off and I'll show you what else needs to be plowed Honey," he joked.

"I would, but I am already late," she said knowing he loved it when she went barefoot around the farm. "I am supposed to meet Amanda at her house in half an hour."

"Well you two have fun," he said looking down at his wife's bare feet even as she walked away from him. Turning his attention back from his beautiful wife, he placed his wrench upon the bolt and began to break it loose.

Knowing her husband's attention would be fully on the broken down planter, Liz made a detour around the house and grabbed the brown paper bag full of clothes that Amanda had left inside her car's trunk sometime during the day. Not wanting the prying eyes of their husband's to see what they really wore; it was where they two of them agreed to place their clothing choices.

Now Liz could not resist the urge to sneak a peek at what lay in wait for her. Opening up the bag quickly, she peered inside. Nearly horrified, she quickly shut the bag and rushed into the house so her husband would not detect their secret hiding spot. Grabbing the phone out of the kitchen, she took two stairs at a time reaching the second story bathroom, turning a crimson red as she did so.

"I can't wear that," Liz sputtered as soon as she heard her best friend on the other end of the phone line.

"Liz simmer down, it's just a little black dress."

"It's not the damn dress Amanda that I have a problem with. It's not evening those stupid high heels that I pretty near broke my neck wearing last time. It's those stockings. I mean yeah I complained last time about wearing those garter stockings, but I wore them. This is different. Do you know what a fishnet stocking means? It's a calling card of a prostitute. I can't go out to a club wearing those Amanda."

"Liz, you know the rules. We each wear what the other person picks out. That's what makes it fun. You'll have a blast once you get over your little stage fright."

"Amanda I am not wearing them."

"Sorry Liz, see you in a few and you better be wearing those fishnet stockings."

"Or what," Liz said, but she was already hearing the dial tone as she said it. Reluctantly, Liz striped off her remaining clothes and began to get ready for her night out with Amanda. Her mind was a blur as she went through the routine of taking a shower, putting on her make-up and putting on the clothes Amanda had picked out. Of course before she emerged from the bathroom, she had pulled a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt over her rather revealing outfit, and simply gave her husband a wave as she slid into her car and headed for Amanda's house.

Amanda was waiting on the porch swing when Liz pulled into the driveway, and it was her own curiosity that made her walk a bit faster down the walk and clamber into her friends' car.

"Are you wearing them," was the first thing she asked?

"Amanda, its kind of fun to put on something besides denim and sneakers for a change, but I can't wear fishnet out in public. Do you know what people are going to think?"

"You shouldn't care. I picked them out and you should wear them for that reason alone. Besides you said the same thing about those high heels I bought for you last time, and you got used to them."

"Amanda..."

"Liz you better be wearing them," she said and reached over to pull her friend's sweat pants up just enough so she could see if she was wearing them.

"Yes, I am wearing them; now leave my legs alone I am trying to drive here."

For the next few hours Liz and Amanda kept their real clothes hidden by their drabby sweat suits until they were sure they were far enough away from their small farming town and was sure no one would recognize them. Changing inside their hotel room, Liz looked at the mirror at herself and a half-smirk began to creep across her face.

"You like it don't you," Amanda said as she watched her friend admire herself in the looking glass? Liz smiled a bit more and nodded at her friend who only swooned at the fact that the young woman was beginning to emerge from her shell. With a wanton smile, Liz looked at her friend.

"Shall we go drive the men crazy?" Ten minutes later Liz found herself seated at the bar, a glass of brandy in her hand and wearing a thigh-length black dress, a size too tight and nearly backless. The front only contained a smattering more of material, for the dress had a single strap that wrapped about her neck, plunging into a deep vee to just cover her braless breasts before flowing down to her stomachs and thigh. There the dress abruptly stopped, leaving an inch of exposed pale flesh between the hemline of her dress and the tops of her black garter stockings. Now crossing one leg over the other, Liz's movement only pulled the two materials father apart; a feat that did not go unnoticed by the man next to her. Neither did her dangling shoe that came about more from nervousness then it did from seduction.

Off on the dance floor, Amanda was seducing men on her own accord. An avid fan of dancing, she was content to let Liz entice men by her own methods as she worked picked, danced and ground her way through a number of songs with a new man with each song.

"I'll get that," the man quickly offered when Liz accidentally toed her shoe out of balance and felt the black high heel slip from her foot. Leaving a coveted seat at the bar, Liz watched as the man gently picked it up the floor and was about to place it back on her foot when he spoke again. "Still, it's almost a shame to put it back on."

"Then take the other one off," she said, feeling the full power of her feminine beauty. With a grin, the man watched as Liz re-crossed her legs, toying with the man as she made a show of it, splaying her legs a bit and letting him get a quick glimpse at her sex as her legs were switched. "Is that better," she asked even as the man gripped her small ankle and began to slip the jet black shoe from off her foot?

Liz almost laughed when the man could only mumble some inaudiable sound at his good fortune. Her shoe had been off for a minute or more and yet his hand still remained on her foot, rubbing the rough textured diamonds of her fishnets slowly over her skin. Spinning around in the swivel bar stool, Liz's actions gently pulled her foot out of his hands so that she could order another drink. As she did, her fullest seductive power was displayed.

"Put that on my tab," the man said as he leaned against the bar now that his previous seat had been taken by someone else.

As the night wore on, deep inside, Liz felt a complete sense of vindication. As she danced, teased and toyed with this man and a few others, she watched their stares, felt their hands upon her legs and felt them bump and grind into her. Dressed as she was, they could not take their eyes off of her, and yet at the equipment dealer, dressed in her usual farmer fare, she would not have gotten a second look.

Liz knew Amanda felt like-wise. She had watched her throughout the night, dancing with several men and watched their reactions; brushing up against her whenever possible and letting lingering gazes take in all of her friends equally fine form.

In some ways Liz could not blame them, the clothing he had chosen for Amanda to wear, though not quite as riske as that of what she was wearing, still revealed more flesh then the lingerie she wore on her wedding night. A combination of black and white, it fit Amanda's personality of angel/devil perfectly. Now the bright white blouse glowed in the strange light of the club with Amanda keeping it unbuttoned one more button then she probably should have. In keeping with the tradition of choosing clothes one size to tight, Amanda's blouse clung tightly to her chest and stomach before it was tucked deeply into a black and white polka dotted skirt. This skirt Liz had hemmed up an additional inch just to intensify things and reveal more of Amanda's own sassy legs. Like her blouse, the white nylons also shimmered in the strange light of the club, more so now as Amanda stretched them out onto the foot rail of the clubs bar. Toying with the shiny brass rail with her nylon toes, Amanda looked down at her shoeless feet, unsure of just where her high heels were or who had them.

Now it was mid-night and the two of them had caught to one another at the bar. With yet another drink inside of them, they discussed the night's sordid adventure.

"You don't seem to be too self-conscientious about your fishnet stockings," Amanda said with a grin?

"And you don't seem too concerned about you wedding vows either. I saw you over in the corner making out with that man. I was about to remind you that you are a married woman."

"You didn't have to remind me. He was a much better kisser than Francis!"

"Amanda!"

"You can't tell me you haven't kissed any guy here?"

"No I didn't, but I had one guy pretty near touch my sex he had his hand so far up my dress. Hell he even propositioned me. Three hundred bucks to go back to our hotel room."

"And you did not take him up on it?"

"I'm married remember?"

"Well sometime you're going to have to see what it's like to be with someone besides Scott."

"I have, it just happens to be with another woman."

"So what are you saying Liz, you're ready to stop toying with these men and have some fun ourselves?"

"More than ready," Liz said as she looked up into her best friends eyes. As her friend's lust reflected back at her, Liz grinned. "More than ready for our monthly adventure."