It was speedweek at Daytona, February 1991. I was down to watch the big race at the big track and to race my old dirt modified at the satellite dirt tracks. The first night out at Valdosta speedway, I had been clipped in the first heat race and tapped the fence pretty hard. We had to replace part of the front suspension, the front shock, and weld up a broken mount.
Not a good way to start seven days of hard racing but we learned something. By luck of the draw, I got to start the "B" feature up near the front and won it with ease. Whatever we had done to the front end helped the car handle. It now planted the left front wheel better and steered through the turns with ease, which meant I could get back to the gas earlier and harder.
The "A" feature was forty laps on that rough old track. I started twentieth out of twenty-four and won going away. The car was a rocket and seemed to just float through those rough turns anywhere I drove it. High, low, in the middle, it did not seem to matter, the car was bad fast.
*****
The winner's circle was a madhouse; tech inspection afterwards was a breeze. The car was parked at the end of the trailer, ready to load. I was leaned in through the window getting my helmet off the hook on the center roof cross brace of the roll cage when someone put their hands on my sides and slowly ran them down to my hips and then across my ass.
I bumped my head hard as I tried to back out of the low, narrow window. I had the helmet in one hand and the other on the growing knot on the back of my head. As I straightened and turned around my mouth dropped open. All thoughts of the knot on my head disappeared. I was looking into the greenest eyes I had ever seen and they were level with mine.
My vision backed off to take in a beautiful face and chestnut hair with lighter streaks through it. "I don't suppose there's a chance of a ride?" The woman asked with a big grin. She had a decidedly British accent.
My mouth finally closed enough for me to grin back at her. I knew what kind of ride I wanted to give her but decided to play nice at least to start with. Of course, her hand on my ass earlier made that even harder to do. "They've closed the track, I'm afraid. Anyway, with you sitting in my lap, I don't think my mind would be on driving the race car."
Her eyes got big and then she grinned. "Cheeky thing, aren't you."
"The car only has one seat," I replied.
She leaned forward and looked inside the car. My eyes were on the front of her blouse where her breasts were threatening to spill out into the warm night air. The blouse was black and close to see through but had a random swirl pattern that was interesting.
"That is rather small," she said straightening up.
"Want to give it a try?" I asked.
"We
are
still talking about the car, aren't we?" She asked in return.
"For now," replied with a wink.
"Cheeky, through and through," she whispered.
"Put your right leg in the window and hold on to the bar here at the top of the window as you get your left leg inside so you can sit on this lower bar." I told her.
She looked from me to the car and back again several times as I spoke. After a moment, she shrugged. "Why not," she said as she lifted her leg and put her foot through the window. I was hoping it was a skirt she was wearing but it turned out to be harem pants, baggy and very soft.
Grabbing the upper window bar for balance, she swung her left leg up and through the window. She was sitting on the door bar as I said, "Now move both feet in front of the seat, hold onto the bar, and slide into the seat."
She was sitting on the seatbelts. She wiggled and lifted up in the seat. "Something is poking me."
"Hey, don't look at me. I'm out here," I said with a grin. Then I leaned in and moved the seatbelts over the sides of the seat, out of the way.
She sat back down and grinned up at me as she wiggled in the seat and put her hands on the steering wheel. "It fits like a glove."
"Put the seatbelts on and try it."
She fumbled with the belts for a minute and then I leaned in to give her a hand. I got the shoulder straps in place and ran my hands down them, brushing the outsides of her breasts as I did. She looked up at me quickly and then returned her eyes to where I was latching the shoulder straps into the seatbelt and pulling the antisubmarine belt up between her legs. She made a whimpering sound as I latched the five straps together.
When I started to pull them tight, she wiggled back in the seat. I pulled them tighter. The shoulder straps mashed her breasts together and threatened to pop them out the front of the loose blouse. Tightening the antisubmarine belt pulled the lap belt down around her hips and pulled the shoulder straps even tighter. When I pulled the lap belt tight, she moaned softly. One nipple had now slipped out from under the cloth of the blouse.
She lifted her arms and put her hands on the wheel again. "Do the belts need to be this tight?"
I grinned and nodded. "If you went out on the track right now, you would make a slow lap and be tightening the belts even more. By the time you were ready to start the race, you would have tightened them three more times. The seat molds to your body and the vibrations sink you down more. There is no such thing as a too tight seatbelt."
"And you drive so beautifully this way. It is very hard to believe. I can hardly move."
I reached over to the dash and flipped a switch. I pulled my head out of the car and looked around. "Fire in the hole," I yelled and leaned back into the car. I rattled the transmission lever between her legs to make sure the car was out of gear.
When I flipped a second switch she asked, "What are you doing?"
"Giving you the second part of the tour," I replied as I pushed up on a third switch. The motor whirred for a second and busted off with a loud roar. Then it sat there with a lope that rocked the whole car.
"Push the gas pedal down an inch or so and let it back up," I told her in a loud voice to be heard over the pipes.
She blipped the throttle timidly and laughed when the motor responded.
"Push it harder. There are triple springs on the linkage."
She gassed it a little harder and laughed again as it revved up more.
"Harder," I yelled at her.
She looked up at me and laughed. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to say that."
"You can have your turn later," I said as I pulled back out of the car and moved forward. The hood was off the car so I grabbed the throttle linkage and revved the car like I would testing the timing. I revved it up about half way and held it a second before letting go of the linkage. I revved it several more time and then leaned back inside.