Grease Monkey Business Pt. 03

I suppose the well-intentioned threats I received after the last chapter are a good sign. Julie and Red are back for more.

I hope you enjoy it.

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"Julie, are you okay?" I heard from the radio. "Julie, talk to us. Are you alright?"

I was frozen in place. Fear gripped me in its icy fingers, while my ears strained to pierce the static that greeted them. Oh, god, Julie, please answer. Please be okay.

A few clicks popped through the noise.

"Yeah, I'm okay," came Julie's voice. "We're going to need tires, and a new nose panel. Otherwise, I think the car's okay. I'm coming in slow, to avoid tearing up anything else. Both lefts are flat."

Okay. She's okay. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

There were a lot more people in my way on the way to the pits. It seemed to take forever to get there, and the car, with my darling Julie still at the wheel, was back on track before I reached our stall.

There, sitting in the corner of our garage, was a pile of shattered carbon fibre and two destroyed race tires, still smoking. I poked the body panel with my foot, and flipped it over, showing the car number, 68, confirming it came off Julie's ride. It was split in half, with a central impact point low on the nose, where something hard and heavy had been hit at speed.

A hand on my shoulder made me look up. It was Chip.

"Someone wants to talk to you," he smiled. "She's quite a driver, your girl. Glad she's on our side." He handed me his headset.

"Hello?" I said softly, getting the device situated. "Julie?"

"I'm fine, baby," she replied, answering my question before I asked it. "A bit shaken, but not hurt at all."

"What the fuck happened?" I blurted, letting my concern show through.

"I'm not sure," she giggled. "It happened pretty fast. One second, everything was fine, then all hell broke loose. I went evasive, and something hit me right on the nose. The car's nose, honey. I repeat... I'm fine. Sure could use a hug when I get back in, though."

"Just try and stop me," I smiled.

"Good. See you in about an hour," she said happily. "I love you. Can I get Chip back?"

"You got it," I replied, handing over the radio. I somehow suppressed the urge to remind her to be careful. Chip walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

My worst fears had surfaced, only to be shown unfounded. My Julie was fine. It would take more than a little two-hundred mile an hour accident to hurt her.

Yeah, I wasn't buying that, either. I tried to convince myself she was invincible, but I knew better.

"Just be careful out there," I said softly, to myself.

***

Nick was getting back in the car after Julie got out, making up for his short shift before the rain. He was ready to go as she brought the car to a stop, right on the marks. As the car popped up on the jacks, the door popped open, and the well-choreographed driver swap took place.

Seconds later, the fuel man stepped forward, and plugged the hose in, providing gas for another hour of racing. When the hose came out, Nick fired up the engine, and off he went.

I was standing behind Julie when she turned around, still wearing all her gear. That hug I owed her? I wasn't going to wait around for her to get comfortable.

I took her in my arms, holding her tight. Maybe a little too tight.

"Oooomfff!" she giggled, her voice muffled by the helmet. "I survive the accident, and you kill me with the hug!"

"Sorry, baby," I smiled, as she finally pulled the helmet off. Her hair was a mess, and she was sweaty, but in my eyes, she never looked better.

"What the fuck did you do to the car?" I heard from behind me. It was Kenny's voice, and the tone instantly made me angry. He had held a thinly veiled contempt for Julie ever since Chip put her in the car. I had heard about a few of his misogynistic comments directed her way, so he was already on my shit list.

As I turned around, prepared to defend my girl, she gently held my hand, a simple touch that told me my protection was appreciated, but unnecessary. Julie stepped forward.

"Nothing," she replied.

Kenny was standing there, looking at the pile of broken bodywork and shredded tires. He gestured, and sneered.

"Nothing," he pointed. "Yeah, right. Who did you hit?"

"Gee, I don't know," she quipped back, biting her fingernail girlishly. "You're the expert, after all. Who did I hit?"

"I just woke up from my nap," he replied arrogantly. "How would I know?"

"Yes, my point exactly," Julie growled, stepping right over to him. She was a smidge taller than he was, and got right in his face, jabbing a finger in his chest. "You were asleep. I was in the car. Yet you assume I did something wrong. I don't need to defend myself to you, you jerk. Oh, and by the way, we're first in class, and in the top ten, overall, so don't fuck it up when you're behind the wheel, or the person who gets hit will be you."

She spun on her heels and stormed off, while Kenny looked bewildered. Maybe he thought she was just another woman. Now he knew better. I followed her into the garage.

"Can we call up the footage of the accident? I'd kind of like to know exactly what happened myself," she asked, her tone soft and grateful again, now that Kenny had been dispatched. The technician nodded, clicking his mouse and opening a file that had already been marked for viewing. The screen showed various angles of the incident, from the infield, grandstand, and in the car. All the feeds were linked, with the same timecode. He clicked play.

I was more than a little curious myself, and while I watched the screen, I saw our car screaming out of the banking, onto the back straight. Ahead, a gaggle of three GTD Class cars squabbled over a position, with Julie closing fast. Behind her, two Prototypes did the same, closing equally fast on her. This was one of those situations not covered in the driver's meeting.

What do you do when you have six cars, in three classes, with three different speeds, arrive at the same point on the track? Now make that point one of the most awkward to pass in, and heaviest braking zones... the bus stop chicane. It was the perfect storm. An incident waiting to happen, and happen it did.

"I thought so," Julie nodded. "My spotter told me those two were coming, and I had the three in front fighting each other. I figured they wouldn't be as easy to pass as they might be anywhere else. It just felt like trouble. That's why I lifted early."

On screen, the two Prototypes darted past Julie, then dove toward the entry of the chicane. The GTD cars were already entering, causing a rolling roadblock. The trailing Prototype had to brake extra hard, trying to duck behind the leading car, and that was the real catalyst.

Whether it was a defect, or just the wear of an endurance race, we may never know. Brakes are always an issue in endurance racing, designed for quick replacement because of that fact. Whatever the reason, when the second Prototype hit the brakes, the right front brake caliper exploded, sending chunks of metal and brake disc tearing through the fender.

Now with no front brakes at all, that car careened into the four in front, like a supercharged bowling ball, causing carnage on a grand scale. Carbon fibre shrapnel was strewn across the track, and a large piece of front suspension, ripped out of the trailing car by the impact, bounced along, awaiting someone to collide with it.

That someone was Julie, of course. She was taking evasive action, cutting back to the right, and using the run off escape through the bus stop. That piece of suspension bounced off the sloped hood of the car, then went high in the air. There was no avoiding either the projectile or the carbon debris, and it was only Julie's snap decision to get out of the middle of the storm that saved the car from more serious damage. With two flats and a busted hood, she brought the car in, but bodywork is quickly replaced, as are tires, and she was able to get back into the fray in no time.

I was impressed. Seeing her avoid the accident had given me new confidence in her, even though I would still worry.

"Wow," I heard, from behind again. Kenny had been quietly watching as well, from the back row. Now he knew she hadn't hit anyone. Now he knew she had actually saved the car.

"I owe you an apology, Julie," he said, shaking his head, and shocking me with his about-face in attitude. "I probably would have been too aggressive there, and piled into the mess. You kept the big picture in mind, and because of that, we're still in the race. I was wrong to jump to conclusions. I'm sorry."

He held his hand out, offering it in contrition.

"Thank you, Kenny," Julie smiled, returning his gesture. "We're all on the same team, here. We win together, or lose together."

"I hope you won't hold a grudge," he added sheepishly.

"If you want to make it up to me, you can drive your ass off while I'm asleep," she smiled. "Keep it shiny side up, and going like hell. I'd really like a Rolex."

"Me too," he smiled. "You got a deal."

Kenny walked away, heading over to talk to Chip, while Julie turned to me.

"Take me to bed, baby," she grinned. "I think I've got enough energy left for a quick one, then I need to sleep. I can use your help getting out of this suit."

Undressing her. Such a hardship. I guess I can take one for the team.

***

As it turns out, she didn't have as much energy as she thought. Once the adrenaline rush had worn off, she wound down pretty fast. I did my part, stripping her, layer by layer. Off came the nomex suit, then the secondary fireproof underwear, and finally her bra and panties. I helped her into the shower, to rinse off the sweat. She came out, looking cleaner but worn out.

"I'm sorry, baby," she apologized.

"No problem, darling," I smiled, wrapping her towel-clad form in a hug. "We'll save it for the victory celebration. Let's get you to bed. I'm just happy you're safe."

"Me too," she smiled weakly. "Could have been a real mess. Sometimes, instinct is all you have, and that was pure instinct."

I tucked her into the bed, and leaned over to kiss her.

"Mmmmmm, thanks, honey," she smiled, her eyes heavy already. "Can you hold me for a while, just until I fall asleep?"

"Sure, baby. Happy to do it, and happy to be in your life," I replied softly, laying beside her, and cuddling her in my arms.

"That was instinct, too," she giggled. "I just had a feeling we'd get along, that's why I gave you my number. I love you, Red."

"I love you, too, Speedy," I smiled.

"Mmmmm, that's me," she sighed, and drifted off.

As for me, I would have loved to just fall asleep with my sweetheart in my arms. Any other time, wild horses couldn't pull me out of her bed, but today, I still had a job to do, and teammates to support. Once Julie was asleep, I carefully eased away from her, and slipped out of bed.

It was nearly time for me to take over spotting, at least for an hour or so. I left my lover to her dreams, and jumped on my golf cart, heading toward the tunnel.

For the next four hours, I knew she was safe.

By then, the race would truly be on, and things would really get interesting.

I only hoped my heart could take it.

***

I was in the pits, watching the race from that perspective. It was pretty exciting, even though you could only see a small portion of the track from here. The cars were so fast, and watching them go from full throttle, to a safe turning speed, in the space of a couple of hundred feet? Well, it's breathtaking, especially at night.

Then, of course, you had the choreographed frenzy of a pit stop. I watched Nick get out, and Kenny get in, about two hours after I put Julie to bed. He did as he promised, keeping the car out front and safe, moving us up to eighth overall with a combination of speed and strategy. As we neared the sixteen hour mark, attrition began to take effect, thinning out the field slightly.

Endurance racing of any sort is always a fine balancing act, but here, on the big stage of Daytona, second only to LeMans, that balance was intensified. Speed isn't enough, because a car that can't finish the whole race, all twenty-four hours of it, may as well be a brick. On the other hand, durability, and its accompanying increase in weight, may make a car too slow to use that advantage. The question always is... How do we make it fast enough, and reliable enough, to finish, and not one minute more?

Which is part of the reason Chip went with the Ford GT. It was a unique strategy, that could only work in long races like this. Better on fuel due to its smaller, boosted engine, yet still fast enough to not give up too much ground on the track, the big advantage happened when everyone else was sitting still. In the pits. All it took was being able to go three or four laps further than the competition between stops. That's about ten miles further, each fuel run, multiplied out for the duration of many fuel runs. Make one less stop overall, and you just gained thirty seconds on the leader. We were going to make six less, maybe seven. That time gain made up for the speed differential, putting us well ahead of the rest of our class, sniffing the two faster ones ahead.

Remember the old fable about the tortoise and the hare? Well, this was more like the hare and the slightly slower hare, but the lesson still applies. The longer the race went, the more our advantage grew. Slightly slower and steady really might win the race.

And of course, some teams didn't get their balance quite right. Some were slowed by mechanical gremlins, others were forced to withdraw completely, for similar reasons. Some were involved in accidents, which were surprisingly rare given the wide range of speeds involved. The field began to dwindle slightly.

I'm talking mostly about the two, faster classes, of cars. Those who held a speed advantage over the GTLM class. We expected to be tops in our class, and light years ahead of the GTD cars. The Daytona Prototype and Prototype Challenge cars were the real competition. Finishing ahead of someone with a much faster car held special bragging rights. That was our primary goal, but sitting in eighth overall, the podium was tantalizingly visible. Imagine finishing ahead of an entire class of cars, that was expected to beat you?

It was a legitimate possibility, and I could feel the excitement growing within the team as time passed, and yet another PC car was retired. Kenny was doing a good job, and was in his final fuel run of this stint. It was time for me to wake up Julie.

Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, I watched Julie for a minute or two. She wasn't making it easy to keep my mind on the job at hand. Laying on her back, she had tossed most of the covers off, with only the sheet remaining tenuously in place. Most of one long, sensuous leg was laid bare, all the way to the hip, and all of her right breast was also uncovered. Her nipples were standing tall, pointing skyward on her chest as it rose and fell with her deep, relaxed breathing.

I could think of several ways I might use to wake her up, the least appealing of which was merely shaking her. I knelt beside the bed, and succumbed to the siren's call of her breast, bending to kiss and suckle her nipple. It took a minute, but she did eventually stir, moaning softly as she did. Her hand came up to caress my head, combing her fingers through my hair.

"Hmmmm. You're much nicer to wake up to than my alarm clock," she sighed. "How much time do we have?"

"About forty-five minutes," I replied, reluctantly releasing her succulent nipple.

"That's long enough. Get undressed," she smiled, rolling out of bed. "I have to pee, then you can fuck me, baby."

"Um, shouldn't you get something to eat?" I asked.

"Red, what I'm hungry for isn't on the menu at the catering truck," she giggled. "It's right here, in this bedroom. I believe you know what I'm referring to? Something in the sausage family?"

I simply shook my head and smiled. I was naked and in bed before she made it back from the bathroom, and she wasted no time, immediately sucking my burgeoning erection into her mouth. She had it hard as a rock within a minute, and rolled on her back.

"Lemme have it, baby," she purred, checking her vagina with her fingers. "I'm ready. Fuck me, full throttle."

Right. This was not a time for gentle, sensual love making. Get to it

I was quickly on my knees and elbows, watching Julie guide my cock into her hungry pussy. She was well lubricated, and I slipped in smoothly.

"Mmmmmm hmmm, that's it, baby," she moaned, wrapping me in a four-limbed embrace." Fill 'er up! Check my oil!"

"Your airbags are deployed," I laughed, pressing my chest playfully against the soft fullness of her breasts. "What should I do with these?"

"Same thing I do with them," she smiled, shaking her shoulders to return the pressure. "Play with them. Enjoy them. Catch a man with them."

"I'm already caught," I replied, kissing her softly, and starting to stroke into her deeply. "Very happily caught."

"I love you, Red," she smiled, looking into my eyes.

"I love you too, Julie," I nodded. "And I'm so proud of you. You're really kicking some ass, out there."

"Thank you, baby," she giggled, absorbing my thrusts. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Mmmmm, yes, Harder! Fuck me harder! Yes! Deeper! Mmmmmm hmmm, just like that! Fuck my cunt!"

I briefly wondered how many other drivers might have done similar things during the duration of the race. Julie wasn't the only woman in the race today, but she was the only one in the upper classes, as all the rest were in GTD. Certainly, with the number of speed groupies around, if a male driver wanted to find a willing partner to fuck, he wouldn't have to look too far, but, being a man myself, I can vouch for that being a mistake. After I have sex, I want to rest, so I don't really get an energy boost from it.

Julie did. She was often bounding around the house after we fucked, somehow recharged by her orgasms. Maybe it was an energy transfer, and I was the battery.

Anyway, since she'd soon be back in the driver's seat, I knew she would be happy to accept a jump start on her adrenaline rush. I would happily provide it.

I could tell she was getting closer to cumming by the second. We had been together for long enough that I had learned to read all her cues, both subtle and overt.

Her nipples definitely fell into the overt category, and as they puckered tighter, they forced the succulent tips of her breasts into little cones, pointing upward. I could feel them rubbing their hardness against my chest. Also in this category, her moans and groans, mixed with words of gratitude and direction, told me I was on the right track.

I found special pleasure in her subtle signs of arousal; those she wasn't even aware of, that were automatic and beyond her control. Goosebumps. The pace and throaty undertones of her breathing. The urgency of her touch.

Her legs were lifted, and wrapped around my waist as I shafted her hard and fast. I felt her thighs quivering. Very close.

"Ohhhhh, oh, oh, oh goddddddddddddd!" she moaned, and her pussy clamped down. "Don't... stop... more! More! YESSSS!"

My mission was accomplished, and I kept fucking her furiously, Julie came, and came, and came, screeching joyously. Finally, I slowed my pace, taking a relative breather.

"One more, and I'll be fully charged," she panted, clawing at my rump. "Cum in my mouth. I need a little snack."

"That can be arranged," I grunted, shifting into high gear, as much for myself as for her. Within a minute, Julie was screaming again, and I was on the brink. "Open up, baby. Here it cums."

Julie unlocked her embrace, freeing me. I pulled out, and knelt over her, pumping my frothy cock with my right hand, while she watched, mouth agape, her tongue extended expectantly. I doused the wriggling, pink appendage with a thick blob of sticky sperm, before she grabbed my shaft and swallowed it, sucking deeply.