Cars and Cocks

Cars and Cocks

Warning: If you are a mechanic, please do not critique my knowledge on the automotive vocabulary. I did my research and applied it the best I could.

"Hey Eric? Are you working hard over there or hardly working?" Becca asked her student.

"Man. Ms. D. Why you always busting my chops? You making us do extra these days."

"You do know I went to college for a hundred years just so I could torture you?" Becca gave her student one of her famous, wicked looks.

"That's whack," Eric grinned at his favorite teacher, Ms. DiAngelo. While he would claim that her work was whack or that he was too busy stacking his bread, the reality was that he actually did quite well in Becca DiAngelo's senior English class.

"I really just want to ruin my weekend by having all of these papers to grade, so the sooner you can get them done, the sooner I can torture myself." Some of the students chuckled while others rolled their eyes at her lame joke, which she found just as amusing.

Becca walked to the front of the room and addressed the class. "Alright, listen up. Tomorrow these theme analysis papers are due. If you have questions, email me tonight; but I don't want to hear grumbles tomorrow when you have to submit them." Just as Becca was giving out her final warning, the bell rang; and the students escaped her classroom as if there were a rabid dog on the loose.

The experienced teacher just rolled her eyes and walked back to her desk. Becca DiAngelo was forty-two years old, but her students would claim she was probably closer to fifty. They sucked when it came to guessing age. Hell, she didn't even have that much gray hair. She was an average looking woman most would say, but she had a radiant smile that lit up a room, but don't be fooled. If you were a high school student who gave her sass, she could cut you with her dagger looks. Her light brown hair fell to the middle of her back, and she usually wore it down. If you looked closely, her green eyes told a story that few knew. However, she wore glasses to disguise the secrets her eyes could not hide.

Many of those secrets were nothing more than scars that formed over the last several years. She lost her mother to cancer, and then a year later she lost her husband to another woman. The cancer slowly ate away at her mother, and in the end it won. Becca prepared herself for that loss; however, the divorce was quick. There was nothing slow about it. One minute she was married, and the next minute she was a single mother. She was a cliche. She was just another middle-aged woman whose husband left for a sexier, younger chick. Becca wasn't sure what hurt more: her heart or her ego.

At first Becca pitied herself, for she drank often and ate even more. However, she realized she had a son to raise and students to teach. As the days went by, she cried less, drank less, and ate less. Forcing herself back to the present, Becca looked at the clock; it was five to four. Her son would be at his father's tonight, so she had no reason to rush home, which meant she could see her second favorite man. She packed up her school bag, and headed out the door.

"Hey, Dad? Are you around?" Becca asked when she walked into her childhood home. "Hey, Bug. I'm out in the garage." Bug was the nickname her father gave when she was a kid, for she always loved to catch ladybugs, fireflies, and even the occasional dragonfly. Becca walked into the garage to see her dad hunched over his 58 Cadillac Fleetwood Special. The dusty rose exterior shone, and she was pretty sure her father wiped her down each night before he went to bed.

"You do know, you're not an only child," Rich would tell his daughter growing up. "Dusty over here is your older sister. You're both my babies!"

"Mom should be worried. Not me," she would respond. "I think she's the true love of your life."

"Shhhh..." Dad would wink knowing full well his wife was behind him rolling her eyes. Becca smiled at the memory as she put her hand on her dad's back and said, "What are you working on now? This thing is in better shape than me."

"Oh this damn carburetor needs to be rebuilt. The airflow sucks."

"Does it need to be rebuilt, or are you just looking for something to tweak. Because let's be real, Dad, this thing doesn't need to go faster." Becca grew up working on cars with her father, so talking shop was in their blood. "You hungry? I brought subs."

"You know there is always time to eat." Her dad wiped his hands off on a shop rag and shut the car hood. Inside Becca set a place at the table for her and her father, Rich, while he grabbed two beers from the fridge.

As the two of them ate, they made small talk.

"How you doing, sis? How's Max?" Max was Becca's son who was once her daughter. Before the divorce, Max came out as trans, which was no big deal for Becca, but her ex-husband was still struggling with his little princess becoming a prince.

"He's fine. He is with Ben this week. They do therapy together." Becca took a swig of beer. "You know Dad, it's a process. Apparently everything's a process." Becca rolled her eyes.

"Well I've been told everything takes time. Is that the same thing as it being a process?" Rich laughed at his own joke. "A process that takes time, and time that is a process."

"So I'm told."

As they ate, Rich asked his daughter, "Since Max won't be home much, do you think you can stop by tomorrow or Saturday? You got anything going on this weekend?"

"Really dad? Other than grading, I have nothing going on. Why? What's up?"

"Let's finish eating, and then I'll show ya."

Becca scrunched up her eyes and looked at her dad. "Is everything okay, Dad?"

"Bug you worry too much. Everything's fine." Becca wasn't sure she could believe her dad, but she had learned over the past few years to just go with the flow. After dinner, Becca and her dad cleaned up.

"Okay, dinner is done. What is it that you want to show me?"

"Follow me. It's in the building." Becca and her dad walked outside, which sat her father's pole building. This is where he kept his cars and other miscellaneous shop things. "So ya know how you're divorced and have no life anymore?"

"Really, Dad?" Becca laughed. "Thanks for reminding me. It actually slipped my mind this week that I was dumped last year for some hussy."

"Well I thought you may like this." Rich pulled the cover off of a 1990 GT Ford Mustang. "V8. 5 liter. 302 Ford engine. Stock. I know that isn't super exciting, but I thought we could rebuild the engine to a 347 Stroker. We could add some aluminum heads. Get this baby a 250 horsepower NOS system. "

Becca's eyes lit up. "Dad! Are you kidding me with this right now? Did you just buy me a car? It's not even my 16th birthday!" The divorce had not killed her sense of humor.

"Bug, you have had such a shitty run lately. I thought we could upgrade this baby together and then take her to the track. See what she's really like. Besides- I needed an excuse to spend more time with you." Rich's soft smile warmed Becca's heart. Her father was a good man.

"This is very thoughtful. Thank you, Dad."

"Well...don't just stand there." Rich tossed Becca the keys. "Let's see what she sounds like."

Becca hopped into the driver's seat and started the ignition. The engine roared as it came to life. "She sounds like a beauty," Becca hollered out to her dad. "I can't wait to see what she can do on the track."

For several hours Becca and her dad tinkered with the car. As they worked, Becca's excitement grew. So many people just knew her as Ms. DiAngelo, the hard-ass English teacher; but there was so much more to her.

____________________________________________________________________________

Several weeks later, Becca and her dad went out to the track. Rich knew more of the guys than Becca did. In fact, Becca didn't recognize anyone, which was no big surprise since she spent the majority of her time in the classroom.

"How do you know these guys?" Becca asked after they parked.

"Some are part of the Caddy club. Some I know from around here or there. People come and go. Sons of the guys I hang out with. Ya know...one car group knows another group..." Rich couldn't sound more ambiguous.

"Ah yes. The good ole car club pipeline. You just don't want to admit that you're a social guy, Dad."

"Ah bullshit," Riched joked. The son and daughter combo walked up to a group of men who were looking over a 1972 Nova. "Hey, guys. I want to introduce my daughter, Becca. Becca this is Jackson, John, and Quincy...and a couple of other fellas I don't know." The men introduced themselves as Ron and Jack while Becca did her best to remember everyone's names.

"What brings you out to the track, Ms. Becca?" Jackson asked. Maybe it was Jackson. She thought it was Jackson. Hell, he just introduced himself. He was cute though with his salt and pepper gray hair and stubble.

"Dad and I wanted to see what that girl could do on the quarter track." Becca jerked her head towards the Mustang.

"Sounds good," Jackson replied with a warm smile. We were just about to see what Quincy here did with his eng-"

John interrupted and asked, "What you got under that hood, Quinc?" John was a larger man. He was not rude, nor was he as inviting as Jackson; Becca noticed right away. He wanted to talk shop- not hit on the pretty, new girl.

"I stoked this engine to a 383," Quincy began. Before he could finish, John interrupted and looked up at Becca.

"Stoked means-"

Becca was not about to have John mansplain what stoked meant, so before he could say anything more, Becca sarcastically interjected, "John was it? Yes, please explain to me what stoked means...oh wait, you mean how there is a bigger crank with shorter rods, which increases the displacement and adds cubic inches to the engine."

"Oh damn!" Jackson roared and the rest of the guys laughed.

"Well Rich, I guess you were right," John began. "Your kiddo does know a thing or two about cars." And just like that Becca became one of the guys.

____________________________________________________________________________

One Saturday evening, Rich called to let Becca know that he would not be able to make it to the track. There was a Cadillac Club meeting, and Rich never missed one of those. Becca had grown fond of many of the men she drag raced with, so she had no issue hanging with the guys. Besides, many of them were her father's age, and treated her like a daughter. When Becca pulled up, she noticed the normal grew all hanging out.

"Where's your pops at?" Jackson asked her.

"He had more important things to do," she replied.

"Oh...that's right," John piped up. "It's the third Saturday of the month! It's Caddy time. Some of the guys didn't show up tonight, so they could go there."

"Fuck that," Becca said. All the guys turned their heads looking at her- some dropped their jaws.

"What?" Becca smiled. "My dad's not here! Don't tell him I said the F word." Everyone laughed.

"Let's run these babies," Jackson said as he slapped John on the shoulder. The crew set up their race order and then proceeded to tear up the track. Rubber burned. Motors revved. It was a great night. When it was well after eight, people started to head out. Jackson suggested they go grab a beer. The majority of the crew agreed.

Becca, Jackson, and John met up at the local tavern. "Where's Quincy?" Becca asked.

"His old lady wanted him home," John replied. "Besides, it was past his bedtime. That old man can't hang with us young birds."

Becca had to laugh because she was pretty sure John was her dad's age! "Oh yes! And you're just a youngster, Mr. John."

"I may not be the youngest in the group, but I'm the best looking." The group gave him shit for the comment. For the next hour the friends talked about randomness and drank beers. John eventually left, which left Jackson and Becca alone.

"You know I've not had this much to drink in awhile," Becca admitted.

"That's why you gotta loosen up a little bit," Jackson replied. He then casually touched Becca's arm.

"I think you just want to get lucky, big guy."

"I don't sleep with drunk girls. I'm not that kind of guy."

"Well that's a novel idea...a man with morals."

"Ouch. That sounded like baggage talking there."

Becca was having a good time with Jackson, so she did not want to ruin it with divorce talk. She quickly changed the subject. "Would you say you're one of the better drivers on the track?" She slowly took a sip of beer as she peered over her glasses with her seductive eyes.

"Hell yes. I would. I may be a good guy, but that doesn't mean I won't kick your ass on the track. I'm pretty sure you've lost to me...like every single time." Jackson laughed.

The seductive look was gone and replaced with a giant grin. "Listen here, mister, I am new to this. I think there should be some type of handicap or something for newbies."

"You want to play with the big boys, you better bring it."

Becca was way too competitive to ever stand down even when she knew she had no chance of winning. "How about we make a wager then?"

"Deal. If I win, you buy me a beer. If you win, I'll buy you a beer."

Becca surprised herself when she said, "Really? A beer? I was thinking a blowjob for you and something equally tantalizing for me."

Jackson nearly spit his beer out. "Holy fuck. I was not expecting that, but hell, if that's your wager, sounds good to me."

Becca grinned. She still had a little flirt left in her. She then leaned forward and said, "You know I'm not that drunk." Then she gave Jackson a kiss right smack on the lips. When he didn't pull away, Becca placed her hand on his knee. Their kissing grew with intensity. Without breaking the moment, Jackson grabbed Becca's bar stool and moved her closer. He put his arms around her waist and rested his hands right above her ass. Becca moved her hand up Jackson's inner thigh. She could tell that he had a growing erection, for his jeans were a bit more snug.

"I bet right now you are wondering if she kisses this good what else can she do so well with her mouth."

"Damn woman. I definitely did not see this coming when we all decided to get beers tonight. I'll tell ya that for sure."

"What can I say? I am full of surprises." Becca leaned back in and kissed Jackson. As her tongue moved in and out of his mouth, she felt his eagerness grow; so she moved her hand on top of his erection. She squeezed the head just slightly, and Jackson moaned.

"Can we take this outside?" he pleaded. When the two stepped into the night, Jackson pushed Becca against the brick exterior. As he leaned into her, she felt his bulge, and it pressed into her pubic area. It had been so long since Becca was with a man, that her pussy ached as they made out. She wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him closer to her. The two of them continued to kiss as if they were teenagers.

"You know if I wasn't a gentleman, I would ask if you wanted to take this to my place; but I'm not that kind of guy, which really sucks."

"Mmm...in the morning, I'll be thankful for that, but for right now, I'm really okay if you are that kind of guy." Becca kissed Jackson deeply. She then moved to his chin and neck. "Do you know," she started to say in between kisses, "that the first time I met you, I thought you were pretty cute. But I'm one of the guys, so it would be weird if I flirted with you. Right?" She moved her mouth to the other side of Jackson's neck.

"Not weird." Jackson could barely get his words out.

"Do you know that I'm incredibly wet right now?" Becca whispered into Jackson's ear. "Wanna feel?" She nibbled his ear lobe.

"Yes." The word was barely audible. Becca took Jackson's hand and placed it inside her pants but on the outside of her panties.

"All you need to do is move the fabric a little bit to the side. Separate my lips." Becca moved her mouth back to Jackson's. She slipped her tongue between his lips, and Jackson't moaned into her mouth. He then took his middle finger and slid her pantines over. He moved his finger up and down her slit. Her pussy was swollen. He then parted her lips with his finger. Instantly he could feel her wetness.

"Damn. You are wet, woman."

"I told you."

Jackson stuck his finger into her opening- not his whole finger, but enough to know her nectar flowed freely. He then brought it up to her clit and drew circles around the pearl. Becca moved her hips slightly, showing Jackson just how much she wanted to fuck his hand.

The two stood there for several minutes- Jackson fingering Becca as Becca moaned into his mouth. Eventually Becca pulled Jackson's hand from her pants. She brought his finger to her mouth. She looked at him as she cleaned her juices from his finger.

"I smell so good and taste even better. When I kick your ass on the track, you can find out first hand." Becca had a large grin on her face.

___________________________________________________________________________

"Whatcha doing this weekend?" Eric asked his teacher.

"What do you mean?" Eric caught Becca in mid-daydream.

"You all right, Ms. D?"

Becca could feel her face getting red. Her students would never expect this happy but firm English teacher to be fantasizing about the racetrack or the men who race on the track. "Oh? The usual. Grade papers. Make lesson plans. Think about really cool English topics."

"You know Ms. D.," Eric began, "You're a nice lady, but I think you need to get out a bit more." Becca couldn't contain her laugh.

"Why do you say that, Eric? Aren't English things fun? What are you going to do this weekend?"

"I'm hanging with my boys. You should try it some time."

"To hang with your boys?" The bell was about to ring on a Friday afternoon, and Becca couldn't hold onto her seriousness any longer.

"Ah hell no," Eric laughed. "You play it loose this weekend and be good." The bell rang, and Becca's student's filed out of the room. A few muttered goodbyes while a couple others dabbed her up. She loved her students, but there was no denying that her personal life was at the forefront of her brain. Becca was cleaning up her classroom when she heard her phone buzz. It was a text message from Jackson.

J: Are you ready to get your ass handed to you tonight? You aren't going to go back on our bet are you?

B: I will see you at 7 tonight. You will eat my rubber.

When Becca got to the track, the normal crew was there along with her dad, which was kind of a buzz kill. She prayed Jackson would not mention their bet with her father around.

"Hey, Dad." She gave her father a quick hug and a kiss and then said hello to the other guys.

"Hey, Sis," Rich replied. You running tonight? Jackson says you're gonna whip him on the quarter mile." Becca shot Jackson a quick look as if he just spoiled their secret.

"You know how competitive I am, Dad. I gotta talk my shit."

Rich laughed and warned the crew how they better watch out for this one. While she may be an English teacher by trade, her true calling was behind the wheel. Rich continued to tell stories about how Becca would work on cars while the other girls were playing barbies or dress up. As Rich talked, Becca continued to steal glances at Jackson. Every once and while they would lock eyes, but his face never gave anything away.

"How about we stop talking and start racing," Jackson finally interrupted. The crew agreed. Quincy and John were the first to run followed by Jim and Ron. Jackson joked that going last would give Becca time to back out if she felt like her little pony couldn't make it, which made her even more determined to kick his ass.

When Becca got behind the wheel, she gave it all her might, but it didn't take more than nine seconds for Jackson to kick her ass. When she got out of the car, she could see the wide grin on Jackson's face.