Grease Monkey Business

She put the car in gear, and rolled back out of the parking spot, leaving me to savour the taste of her kiss for the next two days. She drove away smoothly, and fluttered her fingertips high out the window.

Two days. I wonder what other surprises she has for me?

***

Friday afternoon, I heard the rumbling outside my house, and peeked out to see Julie pull to a stop in front. I grabbed my bag, and locked the door behind me as I left.

As I approached the car, I saw Julie smile. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and dark aviator sunglasses hid her eyes, but that smile was unmistakable. I opened the passenger door.

"Trunk?" I asked, pointing at my bag.

"Um, no," she said after a second of thought. "Not much room back there. Toss it in the back seat."

"Done," I nodded, doing exactly that. I sat next to her. The seats were not a normal car seat. Recaro racing seats had replaced the stock Mustang GT versions, and the seat belts were of the four-point variety. "Wow. Should I be concerned?"

"Not on the street," she giggled, watching me decipher the belts and buckle up. "Comfy?"

"Actually, yes," I replied, mildly surprised. The seat cradled me, wrapping my body in a secure embrace.

"Good," she nodded. "Alright. Tally ho!"

Her hand pushed the shifter into gear, and her foot suddenly got very heavy. Under the hood, the supercharger whirred over the rumble of the massive horsepower being unleashed. I was pressed into the seat by an invisible hand.

"Holy shit!" I gasped at the acceleration, before she eased off.

"Sorry," she laughed, "I couldn't help myself. You should see the look on your face!"

"Yeah, I can imagine," I smiled, feeling my heart pounding. She did it to me again.

Having had her fun, she reverted to driving like a human being, with smooth control and care. At the border, the Customs Officer asked where we were going, and why.

"Portland, for a race," she said softly.

"Have fun," he replied, handing back our passports. "Drive safely."

"Always," Julie smiled, and off we went. As we entered the highway, she turned to me. "It's about five hours or so. I'm planning on two stops, maybe three. Does that work for you? How's your bladder?"

"I'll let you know," I replied.

Julie turned up the tunes, tapped the GPS screen a few times, and we settled in for the first leg of the drive. I noticed how relaxed she was behind the wheel, and how much she seemed to truly enjoy driving. We talked a little, but mostly, we just rode in silence. The engine rumble was almost hypnotic, and I closed my eyes for a few minutes.

When I woke up, Julie was just parking the car. We were almost two hours in.

"Hey there, sleepy," she smiled. "I'm hungry. Let's eat here, gas up and then head back out."

"Right," I moaned, rubbing my eyes. I was a little slow following her, and by the time I caught up to her, she was sitting in a booth, with her jacket folded beside her on the seat.

I had seen 'work Julie' and her very unflattering coveralls. I had been stunned by 'dressy Julie' in her sexy black dress. Now I had casual Julie, sitting quietly and looking at the menu. Let me tell you... this latest version may have been the hottest of the three.

I hadn't really noticed when I was in the car. She had on a denim jacket that had covered her quite well, and the wide shoulder belts had hidden her even more. Now, the jacket was off.

Who says style is expensive? A simple, white t-shirt, with a shallow V-neck, was all she needed to look incredible. Close inspection may have revealed just a hint of cleavage, but close inspection wasn't required. The thin cotton was stretched snugly across her bustline, making her breasts look so full and round as to be breathtaking.

I sat down just as the waitress walked up, and I heard Julie order a burger, fries and a shake. It sounded good, and I still wasn't thinking, so I just said "make it two".

"Bathroom break," Julie smiled, and slid out of the booth. She was wearing jeans. Well, maybe 'wearing' isn't the right term. Those things were shrink wrapped to her magnificent ass like a denim second skin. I watched entranced as she disappeared into the bathroom.

Her return was equally enthralling. I hadn't seen her walk in, but now I could watch her. Her breasts shook and wobbled in her bra with each step. I tried not to get caught ogling her, but her smirk told me I hadn't been successful.

With dinner consumed, she stood up, and grabbed her jacket.

"You got this?" she asked, thrusting her chest out as she put her jacket on. I nodded. "I'll go fill up the car. Meet me at the pumps?"

"Will do," I smiled, and watched her ass as she left.

I paid the bill, and walked out to join her. She was pumping the gas, and fending off the attention of another guy. He may have been more interested in the car than Julie... foolish man... but I wasn't going to let her suffer.

"Hey honey," I said as I approached. She glanced at me, and grinned. "I've got it from here." I took the nozzle from her. She breathed a near silent 'thank you', and kissed me on the cheek.

Apparently, the mere presence of another male was enough to dissuade the other guy, and he backed off. Julie walked around the car, and got in the passenger seat.

Hmmm, I guess I'm driving, I thought. She trusts me with her baby.

When I got in the car, she dropped the keys in my hand.

"Thank you," she giggled. "He wasn't taking 'get lost' for an answer. Thanks for rescuing me."

"Anytime," I smiled, putting the key in the ignition. "Anything I need to know about this monster?"

"Not really," she smiled. "Just that it's got over 400 horsepower. Gentle on the throttle."

"Gentle. You got it," I replied.

The car was a dream to drive. Responsive, stable, and nimble, it was very habit forming.

Julie told me to just follow the GPS, and wake her in a couple of hours. She put her seat back, and went to sleep.

I drove the car as the sun moved lower and lower in the sky. Occasional glances in her direction to watch her sleep, and her boobs jiggle, were enough to keep me wondering about those flexible sleeping arrangements.

***

We arrived at the hotel about 10pm. Julie was back behind the wheel for the last leg, and we checked in before quickly heading to our room. It had been a long drive.

Walking into the room, I was immediately aware of those flexible arrangements. Two beds. Either one easily able to accommodate two people for sleeping, or other activities, but also fit for one. Julie put the debate to a preemptive end when she asked which one I wanted.

Whichever one you're in, I thought, but it was clear that she wasn't planning on entertaining that kind of company tonight.

"Long day tomorrow," she said, taking her jacket off, "so I'm going to sleep. You can watch TV if you like. It won't bother me." She rummaged through her bag, apparently finding what she wanted, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I flipped on the TV, and was relaxing when she came out of the bathroom. My attention was shifted to her.

She was wearing what appeared to be an old, oversize t-shirt. It covered her, but certainly didn't hide her. She strode confidently over to a chair, and laid out her clothes, while I watched; jeans, shirt, bra and panties. That made her naked under the 'nightgown', increasing my interest exponentially. She pulled back the covers on her bed, and slipped in quickly. I saw a little bit of firm ass, before the covers blocked my view.

"Goodnight, Red. Don't stay up too late. It's a long day for you, too," she smiled.

"I won't," I replied, looking over at her. Her eyes closed, and within minutes, she was asleep.

The flickering light of the television illuminated her. I wasn't really watching the show on the screen. Now that she was asleep, I was free to give her my undivided attention. She rolled onto her back.

"Oh my," I breathed. Her shirt had pulled tight across her breasts, and was showing a lot of cleavage. Her smooth, deep breathing made those full globes rise and fall rhythmically. "I'd better go to sleep, before I jump her bones."

I turned off the TV, and rolled over. The darkness finally obscured her fabulous curves, but nothing could keep her body from running naked through my dreams.

***

"Red?" I heard. I was still asleep. Julie was under me, begging me to fuck her harder. "Red?" A hand shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes. It was light out, and Julie was dressed.

Shit, I was dreaming, I thought. I was dreaming, and I missed her getting up. I wanted to see her in that nightgown again.

"Jeez, I thought I was a deep sleeper," she smiled. "Time to start moving. Did you sleep well?"

"Um, yeah," I mumbled. Except for the dreams about you. I rolled onto my back. Oops. Not a good idea. I was pitching a serious tent in the covers, so I went back onto my side, to give it a little time to soften. "You?"

"Like a log, as usual," she giggled. She was arranging her hair in her ponytail again, and had both hands above her head, making her breasts more prominent, and doing nothing to help soften my morning woodie. "I'm hungry. Don't make me go to breakfast alone."

"Okay, I'm up," I laughed. I would have preferred about another five minutes to think of nuns, baseball and other decidedly non-sexual topics. Better yet, she could take care of it for me. After all, it was her fault, for being so sexy. I rolled out of bed away from her, and tried to keep my back to her on the way to the bathroom, but she was facing the mirror, so I'm sure she saw my tent.

During breakfast, the small talk got around to the questions of history and age.

"Married Red?" she asked.

"I assume you mean in the past," I said. "Yes, I was, but it didn't last. I think we were too young to know how to be married. Have you been married before?"

"No, but I'm not against the idea, if the right man came along," she replied.

"I know I'm never supposed to ask a woman this question," I laughed, "but here goes... How old are you Julie?"

"Wow. That's pretty brave," she smiled. "I like brave. I'm 26. Your turn."

"45," I answered.

"Now, you see, that's what I like about older men," she giggled. "From about 40 to 60, you just look more distinguished. It's not fair, really. We girls just get old."

"Julie, I don't think you need to worry about that for a long, long time," I opined. "Besides, you'll probably be one of those sexy older women, beating the young guys off with a stick."

"Hmmm, flattery again," she smiled. "I like you, Red."

***

As we pulled up to the gate at the track, I went for my wallet, but Julie just grinned, and shook her head. She pulled into the lane to the right, and stopped at the booth there. A brief conversation with a man holding a clipboard ensued, before he pointed, and waved us through, across the track.

"We're going in the infield?" I asked. It was new for me.

"Yes we are," she smiled, weaving through the assembly of trucks, race cars, and crew members. She pulled to a stop beside a big camper. "Oh shit!" she cursed as she turned off the ignition.

"What? You forget something?" I wondered.

"I wish," she said. "Remember how you rescued me back at the gas station?" I nodded. "Well, I might need your help in a similar fashion again. This guy just doesn't get the message." She nodded in the direction of a bearded guy looking our way.

"That's fine," I replied, getting out of the car along with her. "Anything else I should know?"

"Well... just that we're not here to merely watch the race," she answered, popping open the trunk. Inside were a driving suit, shoes and a helmet.

Damn! She did it again! Not just a spectator, or even a mechanic; she was driving.

"I see," I said, my mouth agape. "What do I do when you're in the car?"

"We'll think of something," she smiled. "Here comes Clyde. Kiss me," she whispered, and pressed her lips to mine.

'Clyde' was her unwanted suitor, and if she was going to ask me to discourage him by kissing her, well... I was going to do a good job. I hadn't held her like this, or kissed her like this, but I could act as though I had. I wrapped her in a snug embrace, and accepted her tongue into my mouth. She felt wonderful, with her big breasts crushed between us. One of my hands forgot this was just an act, and dropped to caress her firm ass. She moaned, and kissed me harder.

"Ahem..." Clyde said, averting his eyes. Julie broke away.

"Oh... Hey, Clyde. I didn't see you there," she giggled, wiping her lip. "This is Red. Red... Clyde. Where's Fletch?" she asked, as Clyde and I shook hands.

"In the camper," he pointed. "Nice to see you. I'm going back to the car."

I waited, still holding her with one arm, until he was out of earshot.

"Sorry, Julie," I whispered. "Got a little carried away. Didn't mean to grab your butt."

"It's okay. You aren't the only one who was getting carried away," she smiled. "Nice kiss, Red. Very nice kiss." Her eyes sparkled at me. "Come on. You should meet Fletch."

Inside the camper, she introduced me to her co-driver, Allen Fletcher. He was older than both of us, with a firm handshake, and steely eyes. In his younger days, he was quite the hot shoe.

"Can we borrow your bucket?" Julie asked him. "I want to take Red for a couple of laps, just so he knows the track."

"Sure," he smiled, tossing me his helmet. "Just don't throw up in it."

"Julie? Honey? What did he mean by that?" I asked, as we left the camper.

"He's just messing with you," she smiled, opening the driver's door. She put her helmet on. "Put it on. Let's go."

Now I understood the four-point harnesses in her car. I cinched the belts tight, as she started the car, and we rolled out onto pit road.

She drove quite conservatively, just tooling along on an inspection lap. She talked me through the turns.

"I'm going to suggest that they put you on the radio," she yelled, so her muffled voice could be heard above the engine. "Try not to talk to the drivers during this part of the lap," she said, as we went through the chicane, and into the 4, 4a, 5, 6, and 7 complex. "Too distracting. Once we clear the right hander here, it's okay, pretty much all the way past you on the front straight. That's when I'll talk to you. If you have something you need to say to me, wait until I come out of this turn, onto the straight. Got it?"

"Yep," I nodded.

"Good. Hold on," she giggled, downshifting, and hitting the gas.

That invisible hand was back, but this time it didn't let go. Julie went up through the gears smoothly, until she hammered the brakes and dropped three gears going into the chicane. The hard right - left slammed me from side to side in the seat, before her foot was planted on the floor again, and the speedometer was climbing rapidly. Back on the brakes and down a gear, it was right - right - right - left, with her modulating the throttle. Hard on the gas to the right hander at 7, and then up through the gears again, passing through 150 mph, before pounding the brakes again in the hairpin 12th turn. We came out onto the long front straight again, with the supercharger screaming, and her foot on the floor until we crossed the start - finish line, when she eased off, and let the car roll. We coasted along easily for the third lap, then pulled into the pits. She parked, and turned off the engine.

Fletch was waiting. He opened my door.

"Well?" he asked. I pulled the helmet off with hands shaking from the adrenaline, and took a deep breath.

"I didn't throw up, but I may have shit myself," I laughed. Julie giggled, and patted my shoulder.

"Hey, that's not my problem," Fletch laughed. "I only care about the helmet. The shorts are yours!"

Julie put her arm around my waist, and walked me over to the pit wall. There, in our stall, was the race car. It was another Mustang, but older, and heavily modified. I peeked in the back window at the rear suspension.

"Is that a Watts linkage?" I asked her.

"Ooooo, major bonus points, Red! Yes it is!" she laughed.

I marked a 'one' on my imaginary scoreboard. In NASCAR, they use a panhard bar to stabilize the rear end housing. A Watts linkage does the same thing, but is better for turning in both directions.

She gave me the tour of the car, showing me some of the other features. It was impressive. We sat on the outer wall, and talked.

"Julie, thanks for inviting me here," I smiled. "This is going to be fun."

"I'm glad you're here," she said.

"Who starts in the car?" I asked. "What do you do when Fletch is driving?"

"I'll be changing tires," she replied, "and he starts. We'll change every second pit stop, or around two hours each stint. His friend owns the car, and I help with the engine on occasion. It's kind of informal."

The track opened for practice soon after, but the number 11 Mustang was still in the pits, working on a fuel pressure problem. It was finally decided just to replace the electric fuel pump. Problem solved, but passing tech inspection wiped out the remaining free practice time. Fletch and Julie would have to sort it out as they went.

***

High noon.

The race itself started in typical sportscar fashion. With multiple classes, and a range of top speeds, on the track at once, starting them all in a single pack would be a recipe for disaster. So there were three pace cars, and three packs, starting about 30 seconds apart. Julie's class was the middle one, second fastest, and also the biggest field, with sixteen entrants.

Fletch was in the car, starting in the fourth row, and he began to pick his way through the cars in front of him. He wasn't very talkative on the radio, hardly saying anything until it was time to pit. The tires didn't really need changing, so it was just a fuel stop, and he was gone. Clyde took the radio for a shift, and I went to the camper with Julie.

"Okay, I need to change and get ready to drive," she smiled, as we walked into the camper. We were alone. I sat on the couch, while she went back to the bedroom. Her head poked out the door. "Well come here. Talk to me. Talking relaxes me."

"Okay," I laughed, and followed her. When I got there, she was peeling her jeans off, bent over, and struggling to free her feet from the uncooperative denim.

Oh my god! Will you look at that ass? Her panties were white, and had migrated into her crack somewhat. At last, she succeeded in removing her jeans, and stood up. I caught a little view of her camel toe. There was a chair in the corner, so I sat there.

"Are you having fun so far?" she asked.

I was about to answer when she pulled her t-shirt off over her head. Her bra held those incredible breasts out for me to see, quivering slightly with her movements. The sight derailed my response, and made it into an unintended sexual comment.

"Um, yeah, it's great so far," I replied eventually. My god woman! You're going to drive me insane.

"Good," she smiled, grabbing her sports bra off the top of the pile. "No peeking!" she giggled, and turned her back. "Please?"

Huh? You mean you want me to... Your bra? Oh god!

I stood, and with trembling hands, undid the catch, allowing the sexy garment to fall away.

"Thanks. The underwire digs in, so I can't wear sexy stuff under my flameproof gear," she explained, while she pulled the other bra on over her head. I saw brief flashes of the sides of her boobs, swaying wide, before she corralled them. With a final elastic snap, she turned. "Ta da!"

Before long, fireproof underwear had completely hidden her body from my eyes. She wriggled into her driving suit, stopping at the waist, and put on her shoes, all while chatting with me about my experience so far as a member of the crew. Lastly, she tightened up her ponytail. She put her bellaclava, gloves, and head restraint in a pile with her helmet, and turned to face me.