A Powerful Attraction

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Race-driving instructor gets a lesson in eroticism.
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The ribbon of asphalt snaked through the softly undulating Northern California foothills, the black surface slightly incongruous against the greening landscape. Race tracks tend to be off the beaten path, situated well beyond urban sprawl, and this one was no exception. A cluster of race cars snarled up the straight and into the sweepingTurn-1. At the wheel were would-be race drivers, women and men, laboring diligently to receive their instructors' approval and the signature on the coveted permit that would allow them to hone their racecraft in the cut-and-thrust world of amateur road racing.

The sun was setting and the last student drivers' group of the day filed off the track, heading for their trailers and then dinner in town. It had been a good school so far, and, as an instructor, Chris was pleased with his students' progress. As he drove into the paddock area he raised his dirt-streaked visor and squinted into the setting sun. The open-wheel racecar burbled smoothly as he searched for his trailer among the rows of nearly-identical rigs. Spotting his, he swung his powerful formula car under the tent next to his trailer and stopped. Reaching forward he shut off the fuel pump switch, waited a few seconds for the carburetor to empty and clicked off the ignition. Silence enveloped him. He leaned his helmet back against the padded headrest and sighed deeply. Slowly, he removed his gloves and laid them atop the edge of the cockpit. Twisting the quick-release buckle released his seatbelts. The buckles clattered against the cockpit sides as they slid free.

Leaning forward, he passed his hands through the steering wheel and slid back the latch. Pulling the wheel off, he flipped it over and laid it on the cowl, making sure not to pull the radio wires loose. With a deep sigh, he grabbed the cockpit sides and lifted himself into a standing position. He swung his left leg out, shifted his weight, and placed his foot on the ground The right leg followed in a "Formula Car Exit Move" that is not exactly poetry and he stood up, his right hand on the roll bar.

The sun was at the horizon, now, and the racetrack paddock was bathed in that late-winter light that is a photographer's dream. As the shadows lengthened, the temperature dropped rapidly. He stood up straight....... like a cat, he stretched..... unkinking his back. Single seat racecars really beat you up. Reaching up under his throat, he unbuckled his helmet. Removing it, and his fire resistant "head sock," he ran his hands through his sweat-dampened hair. His fingers glistened with the sweat and he wiped them dry on his suit. Placing his driving gear on the folding table next to his trailer, he drank deeply from the water bottle he kept just inside the trailer door. "Another day of driving school in the books," he thought. "One more and I'm outta here."

He became aware that he was not alone. A figure stood quietly under the tent, silhouetted against the darkening sky, staring intently at him.

"You looked good out there," said a quiet voice, "Are you an instructor?"

It was a woman's voice, and it was housed in a woman's body. He could see her outline in the deepening gloom. She stood at a respectful distance, her hands thrust deep in the pockets of her jacket, her collar raised against the chill evening wind.

"That's me," he replied, "just taking my little ducklings around the track at two-thirds my normal speed, trying to stay interested. I am not sure that spending all that time on the track at slow speeds is doing my skills any good at all. But, if I send my students out prepared to race safely, I can be sure they won't crash ME in their first race." He laughed heartily at his rapier-like wit.

"I always wanted to drive a racecar," she mused, "but I could never get the funding together. I think I'd be good, I'm not afraid of speed or horsepower."

He turned to face her and fixed her with an appraising gaze. She was quite pretty, perhaps 5' 5", well built, a strong, lithe body. She must have been in her late thirties, with striking blue eyes, blonde hair and a dazzling smile, visible even in the failing light.

He turned and stepped through the side-door into the trailer, returning with a bundle in his arms.

"Would you mind helping me with this car-cover?" He asked, "it goes much quicker with two people."

"No problem," she replied quickly, and stepped over to where he stood.

He set the rolled-up cover on the wing and wrapped the cover around it; she took the remainder and rolled it down the length of the racecar, slipping the elastic border around the front wings. An errant wind gust threatened to send the cover for a flight and she quickly secured the strap that went under the car.

"Thanks, I appreciate the help," he said, "nice meeting you."

He strode to the trailer, closed the side-door and gathered his helmet and gear. Turning, he walked a couple of paces toward his motor home. He stopped and looked over his shoulder..... She was walking away, hands in her jacket pockets. The sun had fully set now, and a fading pink glow lit up the rolling hills and the Western horizon.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" He called to her.

She stopped, but didn't turn around, as if she were thinking, then she walked slowly back toward him. "If it's no trouble, I'd love one. It's getting really cold."

He opened the motorhome door, and ushered her inside. She sat down at the dinette as he closed the door. The central heating had been on and it was cozy inside. He walked to the back of the motor home and dumped his gear on the bed. Returning to the front he found her struggling out of her down jacket. She smiled and extended her arm to him, and he grabbed the cuff of her sleeve and helped her slide her arm out. He tossed the jacket onto the passenger's seat, and pulled the coffee pot from a cupboard over the sink.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll have a drink," she smiled, "That is, if you have something."

"Got just what we need here," he said. "Do you like Gin?"

"Only with tonic and a splash of lemon," she replied.

"Can do. Coming up." He had some Bombay Sapphire set aside for just such occasions. Pouring two G and T's, he set the glasses on the table in front of her. She looked up and smiled. A great smile, he thought. He slid into the facing seat and pushed her drink across the table to her. In spite of the cold weather she was wearing a low-cut tank top, a black lace bra made a demure appearance, her cleavage and smooth skin fetchingly displayed. She took a slow sip and smiled at him, licking the drops of her drink from her lips. "Nice lips," he thought. He put his elbows on the table, cradled his chin in his hands and looked at her. She began to blush.

"What are you looking at?"

His green eyes twinkled and he laughed. "Just thinking that it's a cold windy night, and it's nice to have company. Are you here for the weekend?"

"No. I was down in Willows getting gas, and the folks there told me about the track. I've always been a race fan. I'm driving to LA to see family. I left Portland eight hours ago. All the Motels are full of racers. Guess I'll try closer to Sacramento. By the way, my name's Jenny. Actually, it's Genevieve, but everyone calls me Jenny." She extended her hand across the table. He gripped it, and it was warm.

"Warm hands, cold heart," he thought to himself.

"I'm Chris," he smiled back.

The drink was beginning to relax him, and Jenny was looking out the window at the rows of race rigs. The wind was really blowing now, and the motorhome shook as the gusts flapped the tent canopy covering the racecar. The tent frame creaked as it strained against the tie downs, sounding much like the rigging of a sailboat. It was a comforting sound.

They exchanged pleasantries for a while, and then refilled their glasses. Jenny was a charming guest and her laugh was deep and warm. As they talked, their eyes locked for a few seconds and Chris began to feel that she might be interested in more than his company. He dismissed the thought, almost as soon as it occurred.

"Don't be stupid," he admonished himself, "she's used to being hit on. Don't get your hopes up." Regardless, he was enjoying the moment, and hoped it would last a while longer.

"Will you excuse me for a few minutes?" He asked, "I really need to shower and get out of these sweaty clothes."

She turned her gaze from the window and watched him as he stood up. He was a racecar driver sized guy, 5' 7," 160, quite fit, with broad shoulders and strong upper body. His silver hair was cropped short with a natural curl that she found attractive.

She gestured to him, "Feel free, I'll be here when you get back."

Chris reached up to the utility panel and pressed the start button for the generator. A familiar hum told him the generator was running, and a slight harmonic caused the glasses in the cabinet to tinkle softly as they rubbed against each other.

With one last look at his guest, he closed the door between the dinette and the bedroom area and unzipped his suit. Removing his clothes, he quickly stuffed them into the laundry bag that hung on from a hook. Now that he had a guest, he wanted to keep the bedroom tidy. He moved his head slowly from side to side, working out the kinks while thinking about this unexpected visitor.

As he made his way to the shower, he peered between the closed door and the frame. He could see her, back turned, her hair in a barrette, a few wispy strands hung down to her smooth shoulders. She idly held her drink in her hand and stared off into the middle distance.

He stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. It was a typical motorhome shower, the bathroom is the shower and the curtain enclosed the small cubicle. Turning on the water he pulled the showerhead from its holder. Due to the small water tanks, a "Navy" shower was in order. The warm water arrived with a rush and he held the showerhead over his shoulder and felt the warm water running down his back to his feet. Switching to the front he wet down his chest, lifting his cock, he aimed the warm water at his balls and rubbed them slowly as he wondered what Jenny was thinking about out there.

Turning off the water, he grabbed the soap and began to lather up his body. The warmth was fading quickly. The open roof-vent let a gust of cold wind play across his body and the goose pimples sprang up. He was so engrossed with his lathering that he didn't hear the door to the dinette open.

"Excuse me, is there a toilet back here? I really have to pee," said Jenny, in a low voice.

"It's in here," he replied, poking his soapy head around the shower curtain, "but I'll be out in a few minutes, OK?"

"I don't think I can hold it," she laughed, "do you mind if I use the toilet right now? I really can't wait," she exclaimed. Without waiting for a reply, she pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the narrow confines of the bathroom.

Chris stepped back and his back hit the cold, wet shower wall. Desperately trying to protect his modesty with his hands, he stared as she lifted the lid of the commode, pulled down her jeans and panties, sat down, and with a satisfied smile...... relieved herself. It sounded as though she had been holding it all day, he thought. The sound died slowly away to a soft trickle.

"God, that's better," she said with a laugh. "Hmmm, you look a little uncomfortable, hope I haven't embarrassed you," and with that she stood up and daintily wiped her damp pussy with some TP. She looked him over, as he stood covered in soapsuds, now beginning to shiver as the water dried on his skin.

"You'd better rinse off," she smiled, "that soap's not good for your skin."

She stood up, reached down for her panties and began to pull them up. Chris got a fleeting glimpse of her pussy, shaved smooth, and with slightly puffy lips. She paused for a moment, as if thinking, and then kicked her jeans out into the bedroom, followed by her panties.

"I could use a shower myself; I've been on the road since eight this morning. I know you don't have a lot of water, do you mind if we share?"

Chris's vocal cords suddenly developed a mind of their own, steadfastly refusing to utter a sound. He gulped, and shrugged his shoulders.

"I take it that it's ok then?" she smiled.

She raised her arms over her head and pulled off her top, throwing it on top of her other clothes.

"Would you mind unhooking my bra? She inquired.

His wet fingers fumbled with the closure, but he persevered and her black lace bra joined the pile of clothes on the bedroom floor. Reaching up, she pulled the shower curtain closed and turned to face him.

She had a lovely body; her breasts were not large, but her nipples were stiff, and her areolas were large and pink. She was not a skinny girl, but her womanly curves were very sensual and her skin was a light tan. Her belly was very slightly rounded and curved down to her tidy pussy. She fixed him with a steady gaze, and then smiled. Her blue eyes flashed and the whiteness of her teeth was dazzling.

"Well? She whispered, "turn on the water, I'm freezing."

Chris fumbled for the water control and gave it a twist. The water pulsed as the pump started and stopped, as motor home pumps are wont to do. The effect was almost like that of a shower massage and he held it aloft and doused her back, then her front, watching the water cascade off her shiny skin. He turned the water spray on himself, rinsing the now-dried soap off his chest.

Shutting off the water, he reached for the soap, worked up a good lather and gave her a quizzical look.

"Sure, she said, 'I love the feel of a man's hands, especially when they're warm and wet."

Chris needed no second invitation as he ran his hands around her neck, slowly stroking her cheeks, then down her arms, massaging her hands, sliding his fingers between hers, then, he cupped each breast in his hands, gently circling each erect nipple with his thumbs. She closed her eyes and raised her head, giving him a look at her soft neck.

He pulled her to him and her soft breasts pressed against his chest. His rapidly stiffening cock slid up her belly, sandwiched between their wet bodies. Putting his hands on her back, he worked the lather over her shoulder blades and then down her spine to her firm ass. He caressed her cheeks and ran his finger around her little puckered rosebud. She stiffened as he pressed his fingers insistently against her asshole.....then he slid his hands around each hip and found her soft, wet pussy. She sucked in her breath suddenly as his fingers brushed over the tip of her clit. By now, the water on her skin was being chilled by the draft from the roof vent, so he removed the hand shower from its holder and bathed them both in warm, pulsating water.

She sighed and opened her eyes.

"Don't stop now," she murmured, "I was just getting into the mood." Gently taking his hands in hers, she examined them closely.

"You know," she murmured, "I've always loved men's hands. My first boyfriend had nice hands, and he knew how to use them. Too bad he was hopeless at everything else. But, since then, I've always looked at a man's hands. It's not the first thing, of course," she said laughing, "but you can tell a lot about the kind of lover a man will be just by his touch."

As she spoke she dropped to her knees and slid her hands up the inside of his thighs, cupping his balls in one hand, closing the other around the hard shaft of his erection. With her right, she rhythmically stroked the shaft, running her thumb over the head; with the other she firmly squeezed his balls, tugging them gently downward.

Chris, struggling to keep his focus, turned on the water again, playing the spray on her back, as her firm hands held his cock in their soft grip. As the warm water rinsed the fragrant soap from their bodies, her head dipped toward his groin and he felt her warm mouth on the head of his cock. Her tongue traced its outline and the tip of her tongue played with the opening, bringing spasms of pleasure.

Jenny's eyes looked up at him, sparkling with delight, and she plunged his member into her mouth, taking his entire length. He felt the back of her throat and the incredibly erotic sensation as she sucked and stroked. Chris leaned back, his elbows on the sink, and closed his eyes, letting the pleasure engulf him.

She continued her rhythmic stroking and sucking and he could feel the pressure of an imminent orgasm. She could feel it, also, and she slowly released her grip and slid her mouth off his cock.

"Let's just save that for later," she murmured, and stood up. Chris was ready to melt at this point, but he took a deep breath, turned around and shut off the water. Sliding the curtain open, he reached into the closet across the narrow passageway and pulled two fluffy towels from the rack. Shaking them open he draped one around her smooth shoulders and threw the other one around his. They stepped into the passageway leaving damp footprints behind them.

It was dark outside, now, and Chris clicked on one of the small lights on the wall. It gave off a warm glow and the bedroom seemed cozy. Jenny rubbed her skin vigorously with the towel and wrapped it around herself, tucking the corner into her cleavage. Chris tied his towel around his waist and opened the door to the dinette and stepped over to the table. With a drink in each hand he returned to the bedroom and handed her drink to her. Taking a big sip she lay back on the bed.... Her towel slipped, exposing her smooth pussy, but she seemed not to notice.

"This is pretty nice," she remarked, "not fancy, but comfortable."

"Thanks, I think," he replied. "It does the job, and I don't have monthly payments." This seemed to amuse her, and she pulled off her towel and tossed it to the floor. She quickly slid between the bed covers, exposing a nice flash of a firm butt as she did so.

Chris settled himself on the edge of the bed and studied her. She lay, covered up, her eyes closed. Her damp hair shiny, her makeup was now gone and her natural beauty shone through. She had great cheekbones and full, soft lips. She seemed to be sleeping and he wondered exactly how to wake her when she spoke:

"Aren't you cold? If you are, Sweetie, crawl in here with me, I love to cuddle." Chris needed no second request, throwing his towel to the floor he slipped into the bed next to her.

The bed was warm and he reached for her, sliding one arm beneath her he pulled her close. She stretched for a moment and threw one leg over his hips, pressing her pussy close to his stiffening cock. In the dim light he could see her face, a sweet smile on her lips and he touched his lips to hers. Her hand slid up the back of his neck and pushed his head closer. Their tongues danced together and he tasted her.... almost sweet. He melted as her warm, soft lips moved down to his chest and he felt his temperature rising.

Chris's strong hands danced lightly over her skin; His sensitive fingertips brushing her nipples, wandering across her belly, tracing the outline of her lips and face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. He touched her eyelids and ears. He was seeing her with his hands, as a blind person might. His sense of touch was heightened by her warmth and closeness.

"I love the way you touch me," she murmured. Her hands slid up and down his back.... nails leaving traces of their passing. She began to stroke his arms, smoothing his arm hair.

"I've always had a thing for nice arms," she whispered, "Especially those with silky arm hair like yours. God, it is such a turn on."

He groaned as the passion she incited overtook his natural reserve. His head was spinning, his heart pounding... breath came in short, shallow bursts. Her smooth skin was slightly damp. She smelled divine and he buried his face between her breasts, licking the soft skin. Her breasts were soft and full, her nipples erect, her areolas almost the color of her skin. His hungry mouth found her nipples and he sucked one into his mouth, reveling in the stiffness... she had impressive nipples, long and very hard. Taking one between his teeth he pulled it, firmly, until he heard her groan. As he released it, it snapped back, making her breast bounce...it was so very erotic. Jenny's warm hands slid up and down his back, softly stroking his shoulders, spine and his firm ass. She grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled his head from her breasts and pushed it toward her pussy.

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