Jeff was on his feet screaming as the three streaked toward the finish line, almost abreast. Then in the final seconds, Mike called a sudden burst of speed from the car and surged ahead half a length, enough to be the clear winner. Jeff yelled himself hoarse. They’d made a super start.
The next two days of races went almost as well. The Mustang got a bad gash along the right side when one driver lost control and sideswiped Mike, but he kept it steady and went on, barely taking the race in a photo finish cliffhanger. Then, on the final day, the best of the meet competed for the title of county champion. This was the day Mike really showed his stuff. Two of the other drivers were semi-professionals and handled their cars, a black Charger and a lime green Torino, well enough to pose a real challenge. They ran nearly side by side the whole last lap, one edging ahead, only to have another move forward and grab the lead by a minute amount.
Down the final stretch they came screaming, rolling in a tight pack. Then there was a horrible noise and the Torino suddenly lost power. Jeff realized it had blown a rod or maybe several, the metal shafts shooting right out through the engine block from the combustive force normally contained inside. That left Mike and the Charger tearing toward the finish line. It looked like both cars were doing their max, but somehow Mike pulled out one more stop and got a tiny bit more speed out of the Mustang. It crossed the finish line a hood-span ahead of the Charger. By now number sixty-nine and Blue Blazes had caught the fancy of the crowd. They went wild.
As the sponsor of the winning car, Jeff went down to join Mike when the trophy was presented. He made sure he didn’t hog the spotlight, though. It was Mike’s skill in every aspect that had won the award, and Jeff wanted to be sure everyone knew it. He grabbed his own digital camera as Mike posed with the trophy, a beaming smile on his lean face that reflected the most joy Jeff had seen him show.
I knew this meant a lot to him, but I didn’t realize how much. Tonight we’re really going to celebrate.
When the newly crowned Miss Greenway County handed Mike the winner’s check for fifteen-hundred dollars, Jeff swore he saw tears in Mike’s eyes. Jeff knew he grinned pretty widely himself. He wanted to go up and give Mike a big congratulatory hug and kiss but figured he’d better save it for later. Greenway County was still pretty conservative and the bulk of the people would likely be shocked at such an open display. As much as he wanted to make a statement, Jeff recognized this was not the right time and place. He contented himself with punching Mike in the shoulder and giving him a slap on the ass as they walked off together.
“We’re going home,” Jeff declared, once they were behind the stands. “Go get that championship car and bring it on over to the house. We’ve got some celebrating to do.”
Mike did not hesitate. “I’ll be right behind you, Mr. Castle. Some celebrating sounds fine to me.” The sparkle in his dark eyes revealed exactly what kind of celebration he was expecting.
Jeff vowed to make it a night to remember.
* * * *
Although he knew there was a chance things would not work out as he hoped, Jeff had planned the night with care, trying to visualize nothing but the positive outcome he wanted. Two thick porterhouse steaks soaked in marinade, corn was ready to add to the grill, and a bowl of potato salad waited in the fridge. He knew Mike liked chocolate, so a decadently rich chocolate cake layered with marshmallow cream and caramel waited for dessert.
In the bedroom, the spread was already turned down over clean dark blue sheets, a tube of scented and flavored lubricating oil lay on the nightstand, and a bottle of champagne chilled in a small bucket of ice, two flutes beside it. He thought about adding some toys or restraints, but he was pretty sure Mike wouldn’t go for such things. Maybe later in their relationship, when the prison memories had dimmed a great deal more, but not yet. And on his dresser, not too obvious, lay two documents, both of which he was pretty sure would come as a total surprise to man he already considered a partner, in every sense of the word.
Jeff pictured all the preparations in his mind as he led Mike in through the back door from the carport. Mike carried his trophy in one hand. When they got into the kitchen, he walked on to the dining room and set it atop the china cabinet.
“This has got to stay here for now. It is half yours anyway and it’s just too classy for that old trailer.”
Jeff had to admit the award was a very nice one. The small gilded car carefully combined characteristics of most classic muscle cars but did not really look like any of them. Above it, a gleaming shaft of crystal drew the eye to the plaque which read, Stock Car Champ, Greenway County, 2008. Beneath it was a place to engrave the driver’s name and the racing number, which Mike could have done whenever he chose.
Joining Mike, Jeff put an arm around him, just needing the closeness and contact. They stood for a moment together, looking at the trophy.
“I don’t know how to say how proud I am of you and all you’ve accomplished. You’ve exceeded my expectations in every way.”
“You made it possible,” Mike protested. “If it wasn’t for you, none of this would’ve, could’ve happened. Two months ago, I didn’t have shit and no hope of anything except sinking deeper. Without you, I’d be—hell, I might be dead for all I know.”
Jeff shuddered. That idea was just too terrible to think about. “No way, man. You’re a survivor. You would have found a way.”
“To be a survivor, a person has to have a need, a will, and a desire to survive. I’m not sure I’d have found that. But now, with you…”
His words trailed off, and Jeff heard a sound suspiciously like a muffled sob held in a tight throat.
Enough of this. We’re getting maudlin. He caught Mike’s shoulders and spun him around until they were face to face. “Come here, you crazy fool. I wanted to do this when that girl handed you the trophy and the check, but I knew it’d shock the socks off the staid citizenry of Greenway County.” Drawing Mike close, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss onto his lips. It didn’t take a second for Mike to respond in kind. For a few heartbeats they just held each other as lips and tongues danced in an erotic rhythm, tasting and teasing.
“I wasn’t sure whether to eat first or head straight for the bedroom, but I think that’s a moot issue now. Let’s go.”
Still embracing, they made their way down the hall to Jeff’s room. Just inside the doorway, Mike stopped and reached for the placket of his shirt. Jeff shook his head. “No, let me. I want to unwrap you like a present, then make love to every inch of your body. I can’t think of a better way to let you know how special and how loved you are.”
For a moment Mike stiffened, and Jeff feared he’d protest or resist, but then a brilliant smile lit his face. “You really mean that, don’t you? All right. I only have one condition—afterwards I get to do the same for you.”
Jeff took his time removing Mike’s clothes. He kissed every bit of sleek skin he revealed as first the shirt and then shoes, socks, jeans and underwear came off, item by item. Before he was done, Mike’s cock was bouncing against his belly with every heartbeat, stiff as a piston rod. Jeff managed to get most of his own clothes off, too.
“Oh, man, you’re killing me. I never needed anything or anyone this bad.” Mike swayed, his eyes shut tight and an expression of near-anguish on his face. As Jeff sank to his knees in front of Mike, he clutched at Jeff’s shoulders and arched his back, thrusting his rigid rod into Jeff’s face.
The time for finesse and teasing was past. Jeff opened his mouth wide and took in as much of Mike’s pulsing dick as he could. The heat of it almost burned him, but he loved the taste and feel. This was Mike, his friend, his lover, his partner. No one else would be so right. He swirled his tongue around the head and began to suck, each powerful draw bringing Mike closer to his climax. Mike fisted his hands in Jeff’s hair and fucked his mouth with wild abandon until he came in a fierce burst, shooting cum deep down Jeff’s throat. Jeff gave a guttural moan as he swallowed the hot, salty fluid. It seemed like the ess
ence of his other half and he took it gladly.
“Lie down with me,” Mike said as he staggered to the bed and collapsed on it. “I just want to be close for a while now.” Almost as shaken as if he’d come himself, Jeff did as Mike asked. They lay face to face, holding each other in a close embrace. Mike’s breathing slowed and evened, until Jeff thought he had fallen asleep.
About that time Jeff’s cock awoke to the fact it was trapped between Mike’s thighs, warm and eager to initiate the friction that would bring full arousal and ultimate satisfaction. He tried to think calming thoughts and will his dick to subside, but it wasn’t buying the line.
Mike chuckled. “It’s okay. I like the way you feel. Don’t hold back.”
“I thought you’d gone to sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“No, I’ve been awake, just lying here feeling totally good. It’s amazing, not anything I ever expected. Anyway, it’s my turn now to take care of you.”
Mike rolled over and came up on his knees between Jeff’s spread legs. Gods, he’s beautiful. Jeff absorbed the picture his lover made, kneeling before him. Mike’s swarthy skin gleamed in the subdued light and his wiry, lean muscles seemed sculpted with the same craft as a well-designed car and hinted at the same incredible masculine power.
With one hand Mike stroked Jeff’s prick, while he reached with the other and caressed his balls and then scratched lightly along the smooth skin from the back of Jeff’s scrotum to his anus. The touch was exquisite torture, almost too much to bear. His cock jerked, nearly pulling free from Mike’s hand, but Mike chose that moment to bend down and capture first the head and then half the straining length in his mouth. He continued to stroke, scratch, and stimulate Jeff’s sac, perineum, and anus while he sucked him, slow and deep.
When Jeff finally came, it was like a volcanic eruption, heat, and energy pouring out of his depths in wracking waves. He didn’t think it would ever stop.
Mike sat back on his heels, gazing down at Jeff with a satisfied grin, almost a smirk. “How was that?”
“Amazing. Incredible. Awesome. Gawd, you almost destroyed me!”
“Good, then I did what I intended. Later on we’re going to fuck each other stupid, but I bet you have a great meal planned and I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
“If you like your steak rare, we can have dinner in about fifteen minutes. It takes about five to get the grill hot. I can nuke the corn and then finish it on the grill.”
“Sounds like a plan.” They both got dressed a lot faster than they’d undressed.
“Just a minute,” Jeff said. “I’ve got a couple of things you might want to look at before we go out to the kitchen. We haven’t drunk a toast yet to a successful race cycle either.” He waved one hand at the champagne as he crossed to the dresser and picked up a sheaf of papers and a large sealed envelope. He handed the envelope to Mike first.
“This came in the mail yesterday or today. It was in the mailbox out at the yard and I got it this morning when I ran out to make sure everything was okay.”
Mike looked down at the stark white packet, a mixture of anticipation and dread following confusion across his face as the return address registered. “What the fuck?”
“Open it. Looked important to me, coming from the governor’s office in Austin.”
Mike tore the flap free and took out the thick sheets of paper, at least two of them. “Oh. My. God.”
For a moment Jeff thought the other man was going to pass out. His normally dusky face went white and he shut his eyes. “Read this and tell me if it says what I think it says.”
With a shaking hand, he thrust the paper at Jeff. Jeff scanned the document quickly, recognized the official looking seal, and finally nodded. “I think it says what you think. You’re not an ex-convict anymore. Your full rights are restored and you’re pardoned, with all record of conviction and incarceration removed from the records.”
Mike shook his head. “I don’t understand. Somebody had to take an interest in the case without me doing a thing. I was going to hire a lawyer with my prize money and see if I could get something like this eventually and here it’s all done.”
Jeff grinned. “You can use your prize to fix that gash in the Mustang now.” He knew he’d never tell. He really hadn’t done that much—a little research on the internet and a few enquiries to the right people was all it took. No money had changed hands at all. He’d realized at once from the little he read that a serious injustice had taken place. He played the race card very mildly since Mike had some African blood, but he’d brought it to the attention of a few key officials. He blessed the education that had given him a start on what to do, but his role had not been great, just acting as a catalyst.
“You’re a free man, twenty-one and some, and exonerated with absolute finality. That means this next document is ready for a signature to make it legal, partner.”
Mike took the second document, hesitating before he started to read it. “Is this what I think it is? Are you sure you want to take such a big step so soon? You’ve only known me two months. I know the sheriff’s department still thinks I was up to no good out there on the lake road with the slider, even though they couldn’t prove anything. I expect Hank Filmore crossed into Mexico, so they’ll never find him to get his confession. His mother’s folks are still down there and they’d take him in.”
Jeff put his arms around Mike and held him. “I’m sure. I’m not so bad a judge of character I’d make a big mistake on something like this. I know you, front and back, inside and out. We’ve really been partners almost from the first. This is just making it legal. Something tells me Castle and Watson Classic Cars is going to be a rip-roaring success. So sign the bleeping thing and let’s go eat. I want to get back to the fucking each other stupid part, don’t you?”
Mike’s wobbly grin told him all he needed to know.
THE END
ABOUT DEIRDRE O’DARE
A lifelong reader, Deirdre learned to write—poems and stories—as soon as she could print the letters and try to spell words. She went pro with women’s fiction as Gwynn Morgan after she retired from a US civil service job and switched to erotic romance some years back. A confirmed desert rat, she sets most tales in her beloved southwest and slips in her ranch and outdoor background with adventures and ‘critters’ as secondary characters.
Although all of Deirdre’ s tales are explicit, she emphasizes she writes love stories and not just sex stories because she believes Love in all its forms is the One True Thing. She also believes that every human deserves to find and enjoy it. She currently resides in central New Mexico and serves as chauffer and household staff for two amazing dogs. She enjoys many creative hobbies and spending time with friends and her spectacular grandkids when she can escape from the keyboard.
For more information, visit deirdredares.blogspot.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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