Top Fuel Thunder Ch 02

This is the second and final installment of this series. It can be read as a standalone story. Enjoy!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older.

Prologue

Sherrie Lansing was riding on top of the world. At age twenty-five, she conquered the male dominated profession of top fuel drag racing by winning her fifth Grand National in California wine country. [ed. note,

see

Top Fuel Thunder, Ch. 01]. Originally from Buffalo, Sherrie cut her teeth racing on rural dirt tracks in upstate New York under the tutelage of her father and her oldest brother Owen. She was taken under the wing of Ray Townsend, her father's chief mechanic, when she was just seventeen, and in three short years he groomed her to be the world's best top fuel driver. Ray was now Sherrie's crew chief and trusted advisor.

Sherrie spent two glorious weeks in wine country with her new girlfriend, Rachel Carbonneau, and Rachel's best friend, Naomi Prescott, after winning the championship, occupying her days wine tasting with her two new friends and making love with Rachel every night. Rachel worked in the tasting room of a local winery in Napa and Naomi worked at the track where Sherrie notched her fifth championship. It was Naomi who invited Rachel to the race, and it was Rachel who captured Sherrie's heart.

Up until they had met, sex for Sherrie was just that ... sex. It was plentiful, with dozens of women fawning over her and willingly submitting to whatever Sherrie wanted to do and whenever she wanted to do it. Though Sherrie never harbored any desire to be a Domme ... she didn't even know what that term met ... she was always firmly in control, and being in the company of overly willing and attractive women made sex highly satisfying but without a lingering emotional connection. Sherrie's little flings never lasted more than a day or two .. until she met Rachel.

Rachel was young, and at age twenty-three perhaps inexperienced in the ways of the world, but she was headstrong, perhaps due to her half Irish heritage. She wasn't dazzled by Sherrie's fame as all of the lovers before her, but attracted to a side of Sherrie that few saw ... the side of her that appeared after the veneer of notoriety and fortune was stripped away ... a side that revealed a tender and loving person. Rachel didn't allow Sherrie's natural instincts to assert control overwhelm the delicate balance on which a long term relationship is built upon - a relationship underpinned by mutual trust and admiration, and not just by lust. Sherrie had never felt her sensitive side nourished, and that added element that Rachel was able to draw out of her was the

je ne sais quoi

that Sherrie couldn't put her finger on, yet craved.

That wasn't to say that the sex wasn't also fantastic. Sherrie was a vivacious blonde who could have just as easily been a swimsuit model with her long, well-formed legs and more than ample breasts. Combined with their rapidly developing emotional connection, the physical relationship overwhelmed Rachel. Sherrie was a tiger in bed, sating her sexual hunger with a Eurasian woman that had the best of both worlds from her father, descending from many generations of hearty Irish stock, and her diminutive fine-boned, delicate featured Japanese mother. Though Rachel wasn't as large breasted as her lover, every part of her was perfectly proportioned in a small, sexy package.

Sherrie had just found what could be the love of her life, but duty called, and with great reluctance she left the comfort of Rachel's arms for her next stop on the circuit in Kent, Washington, just south of Seattle. Thankfully for her, Rachel and Naomi were scheduled to arrive three days later, in time for the last practice session and then the finals.

Chapter Two

It was the dead of night at Pacific Raceway, less than two days until the finals of the Northwest Grand Nationals. The country's best top fuel drivers were assembled for the race, including Sherrie Lansing, the darling of the circuit. The photogenic blonde was the most popular driver in drag racing, and having won the Grand Nationals just two weeks prior, she was riding on the crest of a mighty high wave.

The open garage bay for Team Lansing was the only one on pit row alive with activity. The large arrays of white LED's used to illuminate the garage spilled light onto the empty race track. Cool night air drifted into the bay, providing relief from the residual daytime heat that still radiated from the black asphalt. Sherrie and her team were hard at work, making final adjustments to her rail, not yet satisfied with the vehicle's set-up. The smell of high octane fuel and burnt rubber permeated the workspace as crew members scurried to complete their assigned tasks.

"Damn it. There's something in the steering linkage that doesn't seem quite right." Sherrie's crew chief Ray Townsend was making last minute adjustments to her top fuel dragster and banged a spanner wrench against a nearby tire to vent his frustration. The greying mechanic checked the last diagnostic run on his iPad for the third time and then peered at the exposed linkage with a flashlight, hoping to see what wasn't right.

Looking over his shoulder at the iPad, Sherrie's eyes scanned the data displayed on the screen. "I don't see anything unusual," the young racer commented.

Sherrie had been in and around fast cars since she was five, so even at the tender age of twenty-five, she was wise beyond her years when it came to auto mechanics. However, given his lengthy experience and great instincts, Sherrie would routinely defer to Ray on matters concerning the mechanics of the dragster. Ray earned Sherrie's respect and that of the other racing teams on the circuit after serving as Sherrie's father's chief mechanic for almost thirty years and then Sherrie's for the last five.

Ray ran his fingers through his thinning hair and looked directly at Sherrie. "I'm hesitant to put you out there until I get a handle on this gremlin with the steering. I know it's just a feeling but it doesn't feel quite right to me."

"I don't see anything, and the last diagnostic was clean." Sherrie appreciated Ray's cautious approach. After all, rocketing down a quarter mile strip of asphalt in a fire breathing, nitro methane fueled rail, and hitting a speed of over three hundred miles per hour in less than four seconds was not exactly a risk-free endeavor. But Sherrie was young and brimming with swagger and attitude. She of course loved motorcycles, sky diving and scuba diving as well as drag racing. She didn't rise to the top of her profession without a little crazy in her psyche.

Sherrie had just won a top fuel championship in California wine country and was vying for her second consecutive championship in Seattle. She was the youngest female driver to win a top fuel championship, and her star was on a rapid ascent. It didn't hurt that she was an attractive blonde, photogenic and charismatic. With the race drawing near, Sherrie's adrenaline was already coursing through her veins, her pupils dilated and every one of her senses razor sharp. This was her moment - her moment to make another record in the fastest car in the world. Despite Ray's reservations, Sherrie had the final call on whether the rail was race worthy and had no hesitation in giving the thumbs up for the last practice session. Ray signaled the pit crew to make its final preparations.

* * *

Rachel made the trip to Seattle with her friend Naomi as invited guests of Team Lansing. Rachel was a racing novice, and was taken to her first drag race by her best friend. Sherrie spotted Rachel in the pits prior to that race and their post-race meeting led to a whirlwind romance that had already lasted two weeks. Rachel was falling for Sherrie and was also bitten by the racing bug. She had decided to take an impromptu vacation with Naomi to the next stop on the top fuel circuit.

The two young women had arrived at the track in time for Sherrie's practice run and were standing just outside the pit area, craning their necks for a glimpse of their driver, who was in deep conversation with her crew chief. There was a flurry of activity as the pit crew pushed the dragster out of the pit area and towards the drag strip. Sherrie emerged from the garage and walked towards the roped area where racing fans with pit passes were allowed to watch. She was confident that all was well with her ride for the final practice run.

Rachel's eyes brightened and her heart beat faster when she saw her new girlfriend approach the rope line. Sherrie's long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her one piece fire suit was unzipped with the top part hanging down, held together by a zipper in the back of the waist. Her full breasts were covered only by a white flame resistant undershirt. Sherrie's pulse quickened as well, spotting her honey in the middle of a sea of admirers. Sherrie had been with many women, but none had captivated her heart like Rachel. Rachel was real. She wasn't just a fan wanting to get close to its biggest star. She didn't know anything about racing and loved Sherrie for what she was, behind closed doors, and not what was perceived by the public. It didn't hurt that Rachel was also sexy, with her exotic Eurasian features and her curvy body.

"Kiss me for luck." Sherrie stood in front of her lover, only twenty-three, her long straight brownish black hair fluttering in the wind and partially covering her face. Rachel used her hand to brush her hair away from her face and leaned forward to kiss Sherrie. The fans around them were snapping pictures with their phones as Sherrie put her hand behind Rachel's head to draw the brunette's lips tight against hers for a long, passionate kiss.

As quick as she appeared, Sherrie dashed off to catch up with her crew. After a half dozen steps she looked back at Rachel and blew a kiss. A shiver went down Rachel's spine as Naomi tugged on her sleeve.

"C'mon, let's go to our seats so we can catch the run."

The sprawling racetrack complex was alive, with most of the action below the grandstands at the concession stands. Most of the drivers had their own concession stands and fans clustered around each of them, most looking for a t-shirt or hat that carried the name and logo of their chosen favorite. The friends waded through the thicket of fans in the concession area to get to their assigned seats.

"Look!" exclaimed Rachel as she walked quickly with Naomi through the concession area. "It's a booth dedicated exclusively to Sherrie Lansing stuff."

Rachel had a strange feeling, seeing her girlfriend's picture plastered on practically every item in the booth. Prominently displayed was a swimsuit calendar featuring Sherrie, clad only in a skimpy bikini, and suffice it to say her popularity on the circuit rocketed when that calendar was released. There were plenty of women (and men) who had a crush on Sherrie, and Rachel wondered why she was "the one."

The girls found their seats in time to see Sherrie's rail roll up to the starting line for her final warm-up. Rachel knew what to expect, but was still startled by the massive soundwave generated by the ignition of what was essentially a rocket motor. The soundwave could be felt as well as heard, the roar shaking Rachel's body as well as erasing all thoughts in her head. Sherrie's rail leapt off the starting line and went straight and true, and even though Sherrie wasn't pushing it to the limit, she still finished just two-tenths of a second off the best run of the day. The parachute deployed as it crossed the finish line and the rail glided to a graceful stop. Sherrie climbed out of the cockpit and handed her helmet to one of her pit crew. She shook her head, looking more like a model in a shampoo commercial, as her hair swirled around her head in a gentle wave of shiny blonde hair.

The fans nearby packed against a low rise fence about fifty feet away. Naomi pressed her way through the crowd and Rachel followed until they located a spot right against the fence. Sherrie was talking to a pit crew member and pointing to her palm as if to make a point when she heard Rachel calling her name. She looked up and spotted her, waving her arms. Sherrie gave her a big smile and started walking towards her. As the crowd saw Sherrie walking towards the fence, more people crowded against it, hoping to get a glimpse of or an autograph from the biggest star on the circuit. Sherrie engaged the crowd about ten feet away from Rachel, shaking hands, posing for selfies and signing autographs. Rachel watched for five minutes as the adulation of Sherrie's fans washed over her as well.

As Sherrie approached Rachel she waved away the autograph seekers and locked eyes with her one and only. Sherrie was never known for her monogamy, but then again no one had ever meshed with Sherrie like Rachel.

"Come here." The racer held her arms wide open, inviting Rachel to come closer. Rachel squeezed past the lone person who was between them and leaned over the fence to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. She squeezed the material of the fire suit as well as Sherrie as she gave the famous blonde a bear hug.

"Meet me in the garage." Sherrie pointed to the pit area, then went back to resume her post-race discussion with her team.

As Rachel and Naomi turned to go to the pit area and a young woman stopped them in their tracks.

"You're Sherrie's girlfriend," the female fan said breathlessly. She was wearing a Team Lansing t-shirt and had Sherrie's number 37 on her visor. Rachel saw the same expression of adulation that Sherrie got from her fans. Rachel was surprised by her instant fame, and thoroughly unprepared for it as well. She didn't consider herself famous, and was only now coming to the realization that being with Sherrie meant that she was also in the public spotlight.

"Why ... I guess I am," she said tentatively.

The woman put her hands on her cheeks. "Oh my God. You're so lucky. Can you tell me what it's like to be with Sherrie?"

Rachel was taught "please" and "thank you" as a child, and her natural reaction to this request was to grant it. As Rachel was formulating an answer Naomi grabbed her arm and signaled that they had to move on. Naomi had seen drivers hounded by fans, and knew that Rachel could be stuck there for a long time.

"Sorry," said Rachel, feeling Naomi's relentless tug, "we've got to go."

They broke away from what was now a group of fans that recognized her and pushed their way through the crowd to the pit area. The women gave their names at the security check point for the pit area and were given badges as members of Sherrie's pit team. Naomi was over the moon at being given true inside access to a sport she had followed since she was a teenager. They went to Sherrie's garage and stood just outside it, even though the bay door was wide open, not wanting to go in uninvited.

Sherrie was just wrapping up a conversation with Ray, and her face brightened when she saw the two girls waiting just outside the garage. She motioned them to come in and gave the signal she'd only be another minute or so. Ray paused in mid-sentence at the brief interruption and then continued his analysis.

"Hey, I'm still worried about the steering," Ray said to Sherrie, talking over the din in the garage. "I just can't put my finger on it but I think there's still something that's not right."

"Look, the practice run went great, didn't it?" Sherrie knew she paid Ray to worry, but in this case there wasn't anything concrete to back up his suspicion, and she wasn't about to give up her chance for another championship based on the intuition of her pit boss.

The crew chief and chief worrier shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't find any fault with the last run. But that doesn't make me feel a whole lot better."

"Sometimes you've got to trust the empirical data and not your sniffer," said Sherrie, trying to allay her crew chief's concern. "There's nothing to worry about."

Sherrie went over to Rachel and Naomi and hugged both of them.

"Nice run," said Naomi, still in wonder that she was speaking face to face with her hero.

"Thanks." The race driver pointed to Ray in a voice loud enough for him to hear. "He makes me look good."

Ray waved his hands in modesty to the accolade. He ducked back into a deep conversation with two members of the pit crew.

"Mickey!" Sherrie shouted out.

A pit crew member in the back of the garage poked his head up from his task of cleaning some spare parts. He saw that Sherrie was summoning him. He dropped his oily rag on top of the part he was working on and walked over, wiping his hands on the front of his coveralls. He was in his early 20's and cute, with sandy brown hair and surfer dude good looks.

"Ma'am?"

"Can you show Naomi the garage, whatever she wants to see?"

Naomi's face lit up at the chance to see every nook and cranny of Sherrie's garage in the company of a cute guy. She kissed Sherrie on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Happy to do it."

Sherrie was well-practiced in separating her girlfriends from their pack, and using Mickey was one of her tried and true techniques.

"Well played," said Rachel, wondering how Sherrie was going to get her alone, and now seeing her successful plan in action.

"I want you all for myself, " said Sherrie, smugly.

"I figured," Rachel replied. She pulled Sherrie closer for a kiss. "And I'm here to satisfy your wants."

* * *

Sherrie's on-track trailer was almost as glamorous as her hotel suite. The moment the two lovers entered it Sherrie pinned the smaller Rachel against the wall of the trailer, running her hands up Rachel's blouse and cupping both of her breasts. Rachel's body trembled at the feather light touch of Sherrie's fingers and Sherrie's passion rose as her fingers danced upon Rachel's soft, supple skin.

The three days of separation was hard on both of them, and with the tension of the race drawing near, Sherrie needed Rachel's calming presence even more than ever. Though Rachel wasn't as star struck as Sherrie's other lovers, she couldn't help but be in awe when in the presence of Sherrie's commanding aura and extravagant lifestyle.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Sherrie whispered into the brunette's ear, then continuing breathlessly, "And now I want you."

Rachel let her hands drift lower, her right hand covering the crotch of Sherrie's jeans, pressing her fingers up to feel the outline of Sherrie's pussy lips. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Sherrie used her strong hands to rip open Rachel's blouse, the buttons popping off and rolling on the floor. Surprised by the sudden move, but not to be outdone, Rachel pushed the larger woman onto the bed. Sherrie laughed at Rachel's aggression. After all, aggression was the name of her sport, and to see her much smaller lover take the lead was a refreshing change.

The Asian beauty hugged her lover, then whispered, "Lay on your right side and bend your left knee forward."

Sherrie laid on her side and raised her knee. Rachel was behind her, and ran her hand up and down the racer's back, caressing the large expanse of pure white skin and the sexy swale in the small of her back. She pushed the long blonde hair aside, gently massaging the nape of her neck and her shoulders.

"Ummm," purred Sherrie. "I could get used to this." Tenderness wasn't a hallmark of sex for Sherrie, and now surrendering to Rachel enhanced her pleasure. Rachel suppressed the urge to bring her lover to a quick climax, and instead took the longer and ultimately more satisfying road for both of them.