Racing Strip

After what felt like an eternity the guy at the front ran across the track waving the green flag. I flipped my visor down, clicked into gear and settled into my start position. When he was clear the red lights came on, six of them and one at a time in one second intervals they went off, the final one held for a random amount of time so you couldn't anticipate the start. I held the revs and stared at them. As it went off I slipped the clutch and leapt off the line. The start finish line must have been wetter than I thought as instead of being launched forwards I red lined the bike as my back tyre just slipped.

Instinctively I adjusted the clutch until I got grip and rocketed towards the first corner. It was a long run down and my bad start lost me three places, one of which to Steve. I braked early as I always did on the first lap. I liked being on the inside, it was too easy to get wiped out by someone tucking the front and sliding across the track like a bowling pin. I heard the sounds of someone going down to my rear left and relaxed on the bars. If they had missed their braking point they would probably wipe me out and being rigid on the controls was the worst thing you could do.

Unscathed I got around the first corner and settled into a rhythm. Feeling for the grip and using unnatural racing lines to keep to the driest parts of the track I made up a couple of places. I didn't have anyone on my pit wall, but the guy in front did was number 24 and his pit board said that he was in P7, so my deduction I was in P8.

It was a 20 lap race and as it progressed I got more confident in the grip levels and slowly upped my pace. Out braking the guy in front I took P7 and could see Steve in front of me. I grinned to myself as I slowly closed the gap. I was good in these conditions, not sure why, but I always did better in wet or slippery conditions. Reeling him in I was soon right behind him and he started to defend his position. Feinting left he bought it and I squared off the corner giving me the drive out down the straight and I took his position as well.

Lap 10 I saw a few drops of rain on my visor, but it only lasted two corners before going off again. Keeping the rhythm I drove on to try and get P5. He was a long way in front of me, but it was clear track so as long as I didn't do anything stupid I had may as well try it. I closed in slightly, but on lap 14 the rain started again and this time it stayed consistent. The drying track was quickly wet again and my confidence evaporated with the deteriorating weather. Steve retook me and I tried to stick on to his back wheel, but he just had the confidence in the corners. Every time I tipped the bike in it felt loose, it felt like it was going to slide away from me and I could feel myself tightening up.

By lap 17 the bikes were throwing up the large rooster tails of spray as they tore down the straights. I saw the leaders pull into the pits. They had spare bikes and would have wet tyres. It was only a 20 second time loss of so to do a bike change and they would easily make that time up again with three laps on the correct tyres. It wasn't a choice for me though as I didn't have a spare bike, or anyone to prepare it for me even if I did have one. I was in P2 though, which was fairly fucking awesome.

I could hear the commentator going crazy over the loud speakers and blocked him out as best I could. I could just about see Steve on the longer straights but I was making no inroads into his lead. I looked over my shoulder and could see a train of bikes behind me by a few seconds. I braked as hard as I dared, but even that the front was trying its best to throw me onto the track and into the gravel. Making it around the corner I could now hear the bikes behind me and I got destroyed down the straight as they had better corner speed and better drive out of the corner.

Lap 18, I had been two laps away from my first ever second. I would be lucky if I got top ten on the wrong tyres. I tucked in behind them to get a slip stream and got sucked in by them. Missing my braking point I pulled harder on the brake lever and felt the front lock. Releasing it I reapplied it and tipped into the corner. I was too quick and I knew it, but I would rather slide into the gravel than hit the curb square on and get launched into the gravel at 70 odd mph.

The front tyre went silent and my world went into slow motion. Still pulling the brake my view went from 30 degree angle to the track to 45, 60 and finally 90 degrees. The bike landed on my leg and I kicked it away from me. My helmet slammed into the track and my slow motion world went full speed again. The sound of plastic, metal and leather on tarmac filled my ears and I noted just how cold, wet and hard the track was.

I was sliding on my back, feet first into the gravel and I felt my heels skip over the curb a fraction of a second before my bum hit it and it launched me a foot or so into the air. My leathers were designed to slide and discourage a roll, but as soon as you go from tarmac to gravel it is cartwheel time. I didn't have time to tuck my arms and legs in and felt them flail around uncontrollably for several rotations before I pulled them in to my body to protect me.

Landing on my back the wind got knocked out of me as I came to a halt. I could feel the gravel that I had disturbed catching up with me and peppering off my leathers and crash helmet. I came to a rest face up on my back looking up at the very rainy sky. "Ow," I said out loud to myself.

I stayed still, adrenaline was surging through my body and any injuries would be masked by it, so I just waited. What was a couple of seconds felt like minutes as I waited for pain, but nothing. I wiggled my toes, then my fingers and moved my arms and legs slightly to check I was okay and nothing was broken.

I was just about to roll onto my side when a bright orange man with a white crash helmet appeared above me and gently rested his hand on my shoulder to stop me moving. "You okay?" he asked as he looked over his shoulder.

"Uh hu," I nodded.

"Stay still," he said forcefully and looking over his shoulder again just as another orange guy appeared with a red cross on his helmet.

These are the true heroes of racing. Unpaid and yet ran onto a live track side only protected by yellow flags to check I was okay after a mistake of my own doing. "Hey, you okay?" the medic said.

"Yeah," I said looking at him and holding eye contact to reinforce that I was okay.

He quickly checked me before letting me move. I sat up and went dizzy. "Ow," I said again as I straightened myself up.

"Yeah, big one that one," he said as he helped me to my feet.

The crowd cheered as I got up and I waved to them surprising myself how little I hurt. I was expecting a twisted ankle at the very least, but no, I was fine. I say fine, I had just hit tarmac at 70mph and cartwheeled through a gravel trap, but other than a few bruises I was fine. I took my gloves and helmet off and looked around for my bike. It didn't actually look that bad, unlike me it had slid gracefully to a stop and hadn't somersaulted like I had, so short of pegs, levers and plastic's it would be fine. Hopefully.

I got into the medic car and was taken to the medical centre for the obligatory check up after a big crash. I was relieved of my leather suit leaving me in just an under suit that when wet was not overly generous in what it covered. I told someone where the van was and they disappeared off to get me some stuff to wear.

"Anything on under that?" the doctor asked me as he gestured to my under suit.

"Yeah, the usual," I replied with a nod and a wry smile. I was going to be sat in a wet white bra and panties in a few seconds and we all know how much use white cotton underwear is for not being see through when wet.

I shrugged out of my suit as my embarrassment was doubled as with the doctor being male he had to have another member of the medical team in the room with him, who was also male. As expected my underwear was soaked through and my nipples were pretty much fully visible through the none padded bra. My panties were not much better and as my skin underneath them pressed against the material it went very translucent. 100% obvious that I was shaved and to be crude, you could read my lips. They were both professional though as expected and they didn't even look, or they were well practised in sneaky looking, either way.

I had a scratch on my left hip and a nice looking bruise on my bicep, but other than that, I was all good. As I say, I bounce, I don't break. Luckily. As for my helmet, that would be knackered, they are one use only sort of deal. My left glove was ripped and the leather had been cracked on my right boot as well. That was probably the best part of $1000 all in. and then there was my bike as well. Dad was going to love me.

I was released after 20 minutes or so with a carrier bag with my under suit and wet underwear in it. I was carrying my leather suit, crash helmet, gloves and boots in my hands. I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, no underwear as the guy who went to get my stuff said, "I really didn't feel comfortable to be rooting, so just grabbed these."

I got back to the van and dumped my stuff on the floor. I grabbed my phone to text dad as the races were televised and if he was watching he would be panicking as Dads do. Ten missed calls. "Yep, panic."

I rang him to set his mind and ease and once he knew I was okay he called me, and I quote, "An expensive fucking daughter."

My bike arrived back an hour later or so and was in a sorry state. Cracked plastics right down the left side, foot peg and brake lever snapped. Clip on bar on the left was bent and the exhaust was also not overly round any more either. I pushed it into the tent and zipped it up.

I logged onto the track internet and checked the results.

1st Steven Clark

I stared for a few seconds as I processed what my eyes were seeing. He was going to be unbearable and not only that I was going to get fucked. Made worse by the fact it was my fault he won, they had finished less than a second behind him, and if I hadn't crashed causing the race to be red flagged he would have probably finished outside the top ten.

Just then there was a tap on the van door. I knew that it was Steve before I even checked. I just unclicked the door and let him slide it open. "You okay?" he asked sounding concerned.

"Yeah, fine," I said smiling at him, "Have you come to gloat or claim your prize?" I asked him with a wry smile.

"Ha, neither actually, just checking you are okay," he said, "Glad to see you are. How is the bike?"

"It just slid by the looks of it, so not too bad," I replied, "Not great though," I added.

"Aye, as long as you are okay," he said, "Metal and rubber can be fixed easy enough."

"True," I said, "I am fine," I said again to reinforce the statement.

"Do you want to get out of cooking me dinner?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, "How come?"

"I am going to go to the after race party," he said, "Wanna come?"

"I don't have any money," I said, "Thanks though."

"My treat," he said.

I looked at him some what puzzled. If he claimed his prize I was cooking for him naked and he could have sex with me. Instead he was offering to buy me dinner, and I know that the dinner is hardly a cheap affair. "Are you asking me on a date?" I asked him with a cheeky grin.

"Erm... yeah, I guess I am," he said returning my smile.

"Then I would love to," I replied.

"Awesome, pick you up in about 30 minutes?" he asked as he checked his watch.

"Sounds good," I laughed. The dinner was less than 100 yards away in the main hospitality building, "It isn't a dressy up thing is it as I don't really have anything?"

"You not going naked?" he said looking at me with a confused expression. My face must have been like an open book and he burst out laughing. "Only joking, I am going like this," he said.

He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt, so smart, but not dressed up so much which I could manage. "Yep, I will be ready in half an hour," I said.

He left and I got sorted. I had a quick shower and dressed into some skinny jeans and a nice top that I had with me. I didn't bother with a bra as the top didn't really sit correctly if I wore one, but I did put on a black thong. I even put on some eye make-up and some lipstick as well as making my hair look nice as well. Steve was bang on time and tapped on the door. I opened it and he wolf whistled. "Wow, you scrub up well," he said.

"Cheeky fucker, you saying I don't always look 'scrubbed up'?" I replied.

"You normally look a bit rough to be honest," he said as he anticipated my punch which still connected with his arm. He properly checked me out as I got out of the van and locked it up. I know it isn't the PC thing to do these days, but it is nice to have a hot guy check out your ass every so often. He took my arm and we went to the dinner.

As he was a race winner he had a reserved seat with a spot for his plus one and we sat down. I started with humus with veggie sticks and home made tortilla chips, followed by a char grilled tuna steak & king prawns with veggies and new potatoes. The prices were eye watering, but he said it was his treat and it is fine. I could have eaten for a week on the price of mine alone and that didn't even include the cost of the wine that I was drinking, but it was really nice.

Steve was also nice, he was charming and entertaining and really cute. A few people came over to congratulate him, but more people came over to check that I was okay and were impressed that I was out and about after my off. It was such a good night and I don't think I have laughed and giggled so much ever before. He was older than me, quite a bit older than me and Dad would not at all approve. He was 25 where as I was almost 19. Adding a year to myself made him six years older, which sounded way better than seven.

After dinner the party started and we danced a bit, but mainly just sat and watched the others make fools of themselves as we chatted. It seemed to take him for ever, but he eventually and very shyly held my hand. I smiled at him as he took my small hand in his and squeezed him, he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I turned my head and pulled him back in for a proper kiss. Butterflies and tingles, soooo nice. I am sure it was mainly psychological that he was an older guy, but he kissed so well, and unlike guys my age the second I showed a little interest his hand didn't find my chest or my crotch. He just kissed me back and squeezed my hand gently.

I smiled shyly and took another sip of my wine. The party started to wind down at around half 11 and after a quick visit to the snacks table we left hand in hand. "I guess this is good night?" he said looking at me with an expression that was fairly easy to read.

"Well the doctor did say that I shouldn't be on my own," I said.

He smiled at me. "I am going to assume he also said to not drink as well?"

"Yeah, probably, he spoke a lot, it was unreasonable to expect me to listen to all of it," I shrugged, "And anyway, fairly sure what we are both hinting at was kinda my wager."

"Yeah, stupid bet," he said, "It has been a lovely evening."

"It has," I agreed nodding my head as we stood outside his van, "Lets put a cherry on top of it."

I recognised my poor use of the word cherry and he looked at me in a way that I didn't expect. Most guys would kill to take a girls virginity, but he was the opposite. "Are you a virgin?" he asked.

"Fuck no," I giggled, "Although I can pretend if you want," I grinned mischievously as we kissed again. This time his hands wandered down to my bum and squeezed me through my jeans.

He unlocked the van and let me get in first. Partly to be polite, but I would assume the majority of his chivalry was to see my ass close up. We got in and he opened up the fridge and took out two beers. "I am probably okay," I said. I had drunk a couple of glasses of wine and I didn't want to be drunk. Most the time being drunk was an added bonus, but I wanted to be sober this time.

There was an awkward few moments as we sat side by side, neither of us wanting to make the first move. I was sat with my legs crossed and he was sat next to me on the sofa. There was no question of why we were back at his van, but the initial step seemed to take longer. I guess this is where a guy my age would already have his hand up my top and his other hand clumsily trying to unfasten my jeans.

I uncrossed my legs and looked at him. He looked back and I wondered if he was taking the initiative or not. We held eye contact for a few seconds until he glanced at the floor. "I enjoyed tonight..." he began.

I placed my finger on his lips and shushed him. "Time for dessert?" I asked rhetorically as I pulled myself onto his lap and straddled him.

"Uh hu," he nodded which was the best he could achieve as we tried to stick our tongues down each others throat. His hands stroked my back as I sat across him and as we kissed I felt his cock grow and press against me through our jeans.

I lifted and pulled his top off and gently grazed my fingernails over his bare chest. We kissed again for a second and then he lifted my top up. I broke off the kiss and lifted my arms to let him remove it. With no bra on we were both topless and I pressed against him to continue our kiss. As he saw my breasts it seemed to spark something in him and he took the initiative. He carefully, but firmly shifted me from across his lap and pushed me onto my back. I let my arms fall above my head and abandoning all pretence of "cute and innocent", even though I still had jeans on I opened my legs and grinned at him.

He looked down at me laying in front of him as he unfastened his jeans and pushed them down. My eyes were drawn to the fairly decent sized bulge that was straining inside his boxers. Kicking them off he deftly unfastened mine and I lifted my bum off the sofa so he could remove them for me. He dropped them onto the floor and stared at me for a few moments as I laid on the sofa wearing just a very small black thong. He stared for a little longer than was comfortable, I am an 18 year old girl and no matter how many guys pay you attention and how many times your girlfriends call you cute, teenage doubt is never too far away.

"Wow," he said as he drank me in with his eyes. I am not sure being appraised helped my doubting mind, I wished I had bigger boobs, I wished that I had a curvier body, but mostly I wished that he was just stop staring at me.

I am not sure if he realised he was staring or if he had just finished perving at me. He laid on top of me and I felt his erection push against me again. This time we were only separated by a pair of boxers and my panties and I heard myself moan in anticipation. He ground his hips against me and even through clothes it felt so nice. I dug my finger nails into his muscular shoulders to stop him moving away and forcing him to push against me harder.

We kissed again, our semi naked bodies manoeuvring against each other to try and satisfy themselves, but there was only one thing that I wanted. I reached down and grabbed hold of his bum pulling him against me and thrusting my hips as a not so subtle hint to just fuck me already. He sat up above me and looked down at me again. Moving himself down very slightly he lowered his head down and sucked my nipples one at a time. "Oooo yes," I whispered.

I watched him lick and suck my nipples and boobs while I ran my fingers through his hair. I felt his hand drifting down my tummy and then across my hip. He stroked against my panties and I opened my legs for him expecting his next move to be to move them out of the way and finger me. I didn't think I was wet enough, but by the time he worked out what was where I would be. He stayed outside of them though using his fingers against my clit, but through my underwear.