Top Fuel Thunder Ch. 02

"Rach ... you're teasing me ... you wicked little girl." Sherrie's admonition was welcome encouragement for the determined brunette. She gave her reawakened lover a devilish grin and slowly dragged her moist, soft tongue from her asshole to her clit, waggling her tongue as it reached Sherrie's button of pleasure.

"Ohhhh ..." the gorgeous blonde cooed as she was licked from stem to stern. The nasty Rachel was back, and Sherrie loved it.

* * *

Six Months Later

Ray Townsend was in the San Francisco Bay Area on business, and had just finished a meeting with a new racing team that was forming around a popular Formula One driver. Ray was still on the payroll of Team Lansing, but with Sherrie on the shelf for the foreseeable future, the long term viability of the team was in doubt. Even though the team still had a substantial war chest from Sherrie's prize money and endorsements, that money is quickly drying up. As he was walking out of the office building into the blustery spring weather, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, and seeing that it was Rachel, he answered.

"Hey Rach. What's up? How's Sherrie?"

"Great, great, glad to hear that she's on her feet. Any talk about her resuming her racing career?"

"Oh ... too soon for that ... I see. So what can I do for you?"

Ray stepped away from the middle of the sidewalk and leaned against a tall building. Rachel went on for several minutes.

"Oh ... yeah ... I can do that ... no problem ... just text me the info."

"Yeah, yeah, it's no problem, OK? I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to. Give my love to Sherrie."

Ray smiled and put away his phone. Ray knew Sherrie to be a hard charging person who was willing to sacrifice much to be in the winner's circle, but suffering such a setback was something she wasn't emotionally prepared to handle. He was glad that Sherrie had found Rachel. She had a good heart, and was the best person to be in Sherrie's life at this trying time. He made a few notes on his electronic calendar and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Ray had known Owen since he was a toddler, and was always above board with him as his partner in Team Lansing. On the drive back to his short-term apartment in wine country he called his partner and told him about his meeting and the fact that he couldn't remain in stasis indefinitely. Owen understood Ray's dilemma, but persuaded him to give it a few more months before he made a move. Owen hadn't yet summoned the courage to approach Sherrie about the resumption of her racing career, as her persnickety disposition since the accident could likely lead to days, if not weeks, of additional drama. He wanted to give his sister time to think about it and didn't want to rush her. It was a big decision, and one that would affect not only Sherrie, but those around her.

After talking with Ray, Rachel continued her planning for the present she wanted to give Sherrie for her twenty-sixth birthday, which would occur in a few short weeks.

* * *

After more than three months of rehab, Sherrie was now walking without a cane and only with a slight limp. The doctors claimed it was a miraculous recovery, but for Sherrie it wasn't happening as quickly as she would have liked, and the long down time and the emotional trauma from her injuries had squelched her enthusiasm for racing. She was moping about the apartment when Rachel returned from work.

"Your birthday's today."

"So?"

"So I have a surprise for you."

"I'm not sure I want to be surprised."

Rachel put her hands on her hips. "Look, I've been with you through thick and thin over these past seven months, haven't I? Doctor's appointments, physical therapy, dealing with your fans, and generally putting up with your bullshit. You haven't exactly been the easiest person to live with. I was quite happy living with Maurice before I met you."

The shaming was long overdue, and Sherrie knew in her heart that Rachel was right. "Yes, you've been there every step of the way for me. That's one of the reasons I love you. OK, surprise me."

"Just follow me to the car."

"Where are we going?"

"That's the surprise."

Sherrie's disposition was now much brighter. "You're full of them, aren't you?"

"I think you'll like this one."

Rachel's Toyota Camry eased out of the parking lot of the apartment complex and onto the side roads leading to the main artery connection Napa and Sonoma. As they drove, Sherrie's mind was going full tilt trying to guess where they were going. Maybe the French restaurant that they liked that was just down the road? Or maybe the Thai place? Rachel passed the roads leading to their favorite restaurants and now Sherrie was truly puzzled. The only thing that she knew of that was this far down the road was ... the racetrack.

As the tumblers clicked, Rachel turned off the main road and headed for the racetrack. Even though it was an off night for the track, the lights illuminating it blazed bright. Rachel pulled into a parking lot reserved for drivers and into a space with Sherrie's name freshly painted on it. Sherrie lifted her legs gingerly and got out of the car without Rachel's assistance. She stood up straight, steadying herself by putting her hand on the frame of the door, feeling the cool breeze that blew down pit row, and taking in a deep breath of the cool, night air mixed with the smell of asphalt and gasoline. Rachel took her hand and led her to a low rise chain link fence separating the parking lot from the apron of the race track. The gap in the fence was about a hundred feet from the inside of corner number one.

As they approached the opening in the fence Sherrie heard the familiar rumble of her Ferrari. Her heartbeat quickened and the familiar feeling of race time awoke her senses. Her red Ferrari was idling in the nearby pit area, the very car that she drove many months ago around this track when she seduced Rachel. Ray Townsend was holding the driver's side door open, holding a racing suit in his other arm, and beaming a large smile. Sherrie turned to Rachel and gave her a "what's going on" stare.

"Fancy you girls being at the racetrack at the same time I'm about to take Sherrie's car for a warm-up lap. You know these temperamental cars have to be driven. This one's been sitting idle for far too long. You ladies want to take her out?"

Sherrie's heart sank a bit. "Ray, you know I can't drive yet, I can barely walk."

Ray looked at her quizzically. "I wasn't talking to you sister."

Ray handed Rachel the racing suit. While a surprised Sherrie watched, Rachel took off her shoes and stepped in the racing suit, then put on a pair of racing shoes that were sitting on the pavement. Ray helped her zip the suit and then handed her a helmet. Rachel pulled on the helmet, and then without hesitation slipped into the driver's seat and buckled her five point harness. Ray picked up a second helmet off the ground and handed it to Sherrie.

"Here's your helmet. Looks like you're the passenger today." He helped Sherrie into the passenger seat. Sherrie's heart was pounding in her chest. It was the first time in since the accident that she had ridden in something other than an ambulance, a hospital van, or Rachel's Camry. As Rachel checked the position of her seat, Sherrie felt the familiar adrenaline rush that only racing gave her. The sweet purr of the Ferrari's V8 and the throaty, crackling note from the exhaust took Sherrie's mind away from her accident and back to what she loved - raw speed.

Rachel looked at Sherrie and tugged on her seatbelt to make sure it was properly fastened. She gave Sherrie the thumbs up and Sherrie returned the gesture in kind as Rachel revved the highly tuned motor.

This car was Sherrie's pride and joy. Ray and her had rebuilt the engine and Sherrie used it as her outlet for her excess energy. As Rachel got ready to take the car out, Sherrie shouted over the roar of the motor, "Careful with the clutch ... it's a bit stiff and ..."

As Sherrie was talking, Rachel stomped on the gas and fishtailed out of pit row and onto the deserted track.

"Holy shit!" Sherrie exclaimed as she was pushed to the back of her seat by the sudden acceleration.

Rachel found the line on turn one and hit the apex perfectly, giving the car plenty of gas to slingshot out of the corner and up the rise to turn two. She shifted down to second and battled the negative camber of turn two, the car listing heavily to the left as the tires on the left side squealed as they searched for traction and the right wheels lifted slightly off the ground. The tires grabbed the asphalt as Rachel and her surprised passenger were thrown to the left by the g-force of the cornering. The car exited the corner on the left side of the track and into a chicane that swept right and then left. Rachel deftly steered through the sharp turns and then accelerated to turn three, a tight right hander that again flung the car's occupants hard against their seat's bolsters.

"Where the hell did you learn to drive like this?" Sherrie shouted over the screaming whine of the motor.

Rachel lifted up her clear visor. "Ray," she shouted back.

"You're good ... actually you're more than good." Rachel never took her eyes off road as Sherrie shouted back.

Rachel gave a bit too much gas in the next hairpin turn and the back end started to let go, the car on the verge of going into a spin. Rachel made a small correction with the steering wheel and the car immediately settled.

Sherrie muttered, not loud enough for Rachel to hear. "Well, maybe a bit more practice."

As Rachel exited the hairpin turn she went into a series of curves, lining herself to floor the Ferrari as she hit the long backstretch straightaway. Sherrie did something she never did as a driver, looking slightly sideways to see the edges of the track. She watched the fence posts separating the track from the grandstand pass by as a blur as the red Prancing Horse hit 210 on the speedo. Sherrie's heart was absolutely pounding as she experienced the adrenaline rush of life on the edge, the razor's edge that the young racer lived on every day of her life. Her eyes opened wide as she watched Rachel out of the corner of her visor. Rachel was laser focused on the track. She was a natural.

Rachel slowed to take the final one hundred and eighty degree corner and guided the car back into its parking space on pit row. Ray was there to greet them.

With the car still idling, Sherrie lifted herself out of the car and wobbled as she stood. She hobbled over to Ray and poked him on the shoulder with her finger. "When did you teach that girl to drive?"

Ray shrugged. "Girl already knew how to drive. I just helped her."

Regaining her balance Sherrie walked, with an ever so slight of a limp in her right leg, to the driver's side of the car. Rachel unhooked her harness and climbed out of the red Ferrari, shaking her head as she took off her helmet. Her hair looking almost jet black in the track lights and she never looked as good to Sherrie at that moment. Sherrie wrapped her arms around Rachel, holding her as hard as if she were hanging onto dear life.

"I love you Rachel. You've brought me back to life. I can't thank you enough."

"No thanks are necessary. It's reward enough that you're walking again."

"I want to race again."

"I know. I've always known. It's part of you. I just needed to wake it up. Let's get changed, showered, and back to bed. We'll start training tomorrow."

"I always knew you were special," said Sherrie, her hand running through her lover's mane of hair. She kissed her Eurasian princess one more time, and then another. She unzipped Rachel's driving suit to her navel, then slipped her hand inside her blouse and cupped her breast. "But until tomorrow ..."

* * *

The two women stumbled into Rachel's apartment, Rachel pawing the wall to find the light switch.

"Kiss me again like that," Sherrie said, unbuttoning the brunette's blouse as she kissed her mate. She used all the strength she could muster in her legs to push the smaller Rachel against the wall, pinning her against it as she sated herself against Rachel's willing lips. Rachel moaned, welcoming the reemergence of the old Sherrie; the aggressor, voracious, sexy, insatiable. Sherrie cupped her hand and rubbed it against that hot, wet, junction between Rachel's thighs. Rachel pushed herself hard against Sherrie's hand, dry humping it to receive little shots of pleasure.

"Sherrie ... fuck me ... please," the once familiar phrase in their lovemaking.

Rachel's scent and her plea put Sherrie's desire into overdrive. She quickly, almost violently, pulled Rachel's pants down to her ankles, followed by her sopping wet panties. She felt for that small tuft of black hair that guarded the wet, fleshy folds of her pussy. She rubbed three fingers against the slippery lips and then thrust them into the brunette's cunt, seeking the soft pillow of her g-spot, and the liquid honey that oozed from her sex. She pumped her hand furiously, almost lifting Rachel up with every thrust, as the brunette's moans became squeals as her pleasure peaked. Sherrie took her sodden hand and licked it, tasting her lover, and then kissed her again full on the lips, swallowing her moans as she fucked her with her hand.

And that was beginning of a long night of hard fucking, the frustrations and disappointments of the past months exploding into a fury of sex, both drinking deeply from the well of their desire. Late that night, the sheets twisted and lying on the floor, the lovers rested on the mattress pad and lazily touched each other, neither wanting the night to end.

Sherrie poked Rachel's hip with her finger. "Tell me what you want."

Rachel's mind had been wandering with desires that weren't expressed, but hoped for.

"Come on Rach, tell me."

"Not now."

Sherrie poked Rachel's shoulder with her finger. "Tell me, or we're done for the night."

"No ... no ..." Rachel became uncharacteristically shy.

Sherrie turned on her side so she was looking directly into Rachel's eyes. "Tell me."

Rachel's eyes started to tear and her lips started to tremble. "I love you so much ... I want to be your wife."

Sherrie leaned forward to give her a tender kiss. "And so you shall."

Epilogue - Two Years Later

Kent, Washington - Pacific Raceway

Number 37 rocketed across the finish line first, the chute deploying and the rail rolling to a stop. Sherrie Lansing was helped out of her dragster. Once out, the ebullient blonde took off her helmet and thrust it triumphantly into the air to the roar of the crowd. All eyes were on the racer as a cart transported her from the finish line to the podium.

Sherrie took her ceremonial jeroboam of champagne and climbed to the top tier of the podium and started spraying the cheering crowd. She had just won her fifth consecutive championship, all happening after her horrific crash at this very raceway. Her sweat soaked blonde hair whipped about her head as she directed the spray in all directions, including at Rachel, Naomi and Owen, all standing close by in matching Team Lansing t-shirts.

Sherrie accepted her large crystal trophy with grace to the cheers of the fans, and when the celebration was done she went to an overflowing press room for her post-race interview. She seated herself at the front table. A gaggle of reporters raised their hand at the same time, and Sherrie recognized Mary Beth Hopkins to ask the first question.

"Sherrie. You've fought your way back to the top after a long recovery. Is there anyone you want to thank for helping you win your fifth consecutive championship?"

"My race team, my sponsors, Ray Townend, my longtime crew chief, and Owen, my brother and partner in Team Lansing. But most of all I'd like to thank my wife Rachel, the love of my life. I dedicate this win to her. I lost her once and I'll never lose her again."