by Mia Carson
He was drinking whisky, good. “Scotch. Single malt, please.”
“Glenfiddich okay?”
“Lagavulin, sixteen-year-old, if they have it.” We talked slowly, fencing. He introduced me to the other two people he’d been in conversation with. The brunette in her late thirties and a business suit was from an engine oil manufacturer, and the big, African-American guy represented a brake pad company. They were all suppliers to the top teams and got to live this rock-and-roll lifestyle throughout the season.
However, Donald was testing me to see if one, I was just a pretty face, and two, there was any chance he might get me into bed. His slight leer and overpowering attempts at charm were obvious. He signaled the barman with his left hand, all very smooth, but I spotted his wedding ring, though he still was clearly comfortable flirting with me. Fucking men. It was one thing to presume a young hot chick like me would be remotely interested in his aging fat ass, but that he had a wife as well, and no intention of remaining true to her, pissed me off.
My smile remained fixed as I sipped from the glass he handed me. It was good. Warm and peaty. It took the edge off of my silent fury nicely. My decision to stay free from all that commitment bullshit was spot on, though. No chance of ending up like Donald’s poor wife.
As the small talk flowed between us, he won a prize in my head for managing to mention sex three times in the first ten minutes of our conversation. He was not suggesting we do it, not directly, just getting it out there, planting the seed, testing my comfort with the word as well as calculating my sense of humor.
By the second drink, I was trying to switch gears to go over a few business points. He seemed to be far more interested in talking to my chest. I had no way of knowing how many he’d had before I'd arrived, but his not-so-subtle innuendos and bad puns meant the drinks must have taken their toll. We adjourned to the nearest free table, and Clive, the brake pad man, had to stop Donald from falling and managed to help him into a chair. I was forced to stumble with him.
When I looked up, I was distracted by someone further down the bar. This guy caught my eye and smiled when he saw me looking at him. And it was quite a smile. White teeth, full lips, and a strong jaw, lightly coated with stubble so natural it must have taken him hours to get right. At least he’d avoided shaving slashes or stupid lines into his beard. I hated that. Still, I liked what I saw and give him a sexy smile back.
“You know, you’re really very attractive,” Donald managed to slur at me. I would get no work done with him tonight. Good thing I had booked a room here. I could catch him at breakfast.
“And you’re pretty hot stuff yourself, Donny,” I told him, which earned me a satisfied grin. Clive apologized on his peer’s behalf, but I wasn’t really listening. I had lost sight of the guy at the bar. Oh well, guess it wasn’t meant to be. I wouldn’t want to hook up with a racer, anyway.
Just getting to the track itself would be hard enough. Too many bad memories of my dad. Plus, if my father’s behavior was anything to go by, some arrogant racing dick would never be faithful, anyway.
James
Attending the pre-race dinner seemed like fun on paper, but I’d done too many over the years. Still, I had to go. Keith, Ray, Nick, and Other James always looked forward to it. Free food, free booze. Ray and Keith got to take their wives out, and Nick and Other James got to try to pick up grid girls. I wasn’t relishing it, this time especially, because of my fling with Suzi. She would expect to hook up again, which, I’ll admit, I was not opposed to, but if we didn’t, she would not sit quietly if I tried to connect with one of her contemporaries. There would be drama, and I loathed drama. Which was exactly why I stayed single.
First of all, I hadn’t yet found Ms. Right. Secondly, Ms. Right Now was likely to cause trouble when she realized I was not going to settle down with her. I rarely went on second dates. It was always a one-night thing with me, and I made sure all parties were agreed on that point up front. I was not trying to get out of a commitment; I simply didn’t want a commitment at all. As long as she understood that, we’d be fine. Obviously, this didn’t mean I wouldn’t sleep with the same girl twice. It just meant we both had to understand it was never going to lead to a relationship.
I could tell Suzi was looking for something more from me. Her eagerness to stay in my room and the affectionate way she greeted me at the circuit when she returned my Maserati all pointed to her envisioning a relationship in our future, despite our agreement. No, tonight was going to be a little awkward.
Anyway, we had all worn our best monkey suits. Ray’s looked like it was from the seventies, with its huge ruffled shirt and big collar. He used to have a decent one, but that one had earned its place in history when covered in red wine by former World Champion Nicky Hayden at last season’s Portuguese Grand Prix. Nicky had been apologetic and immediately had another DJ sent to Ray; this monstrosity had been in the box. Even Ray found it funny, which was rare for our taciturn technician. I’d been meaning to take him out to get a new one, but we just hadn’t had the time. I think he secretly rather liked the thing.
I arrived to find my team enjoying themselves. Keith and Ray were in deep conversation about English soccer while their wives, Diane and Sharon, laughed and whispered together. I didn’t see their two assistants immediately, which meant they were either at the bar or trying to hook up already. The four at our table let out a big cheer as I walked up to greet them. The lovely wives really had pulled out all the stops in getting dressed up tonight. I complimented Sharon’s daring green dress and Diane’s sparkling diamond earrings, then looked around for Suzi.
Crystal, one of the pit girls, a stunningly well-formed blonde with legs for miles, definitely appeared to be checking me out, biting her lip seductively and batting her beautifully long eyelashes at me as she told me Suzi had received a last minute call for a modeling job and couldn’t make tonight. Good for her. Suzi would go a long way in her career. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel if I gave in to Crystal’s advances, though.
As the night rolled on, the crowd got louder. I did the rounds, socializing with the riders and mechanics I knew well. I had a good time reminiscing with the British rider Cal Crutchlow about our season together on Superbikes in 2010. We talked entirely about girls rather than racing. We had both been in our twenties and had a bet that involved bedding anyone, so long as it wasn’t a grid girl, that season and seeing who got the most. He'd won.
Back at our table, I noticed the drinks were running low. I made my way to the bar away from the dance floor because it seemed a little quieter and less busy. I was ordering beers for the English boys when I saw her. At first, I thought she was with Donald from Dunlop; then I realized he was a bit worse for wear and Clive from EBC was helping her sit him down. Wow, what a goddess. A sharp, alive face with large, slightly cruel eyes that helped her look more intelligent, and a thick, stunning shock of long, dark hair. And that dress—an amazing scarlet number that pulled in at the waist, dipped low between her bountiful breasts yet still proudly presented them, and curved tantalizingly over her butt. The way she moved, as well, with such confidence, like she was completely aware that everyone in the room wanted to fuck her and she was okay with that, was tantalizing. I was staring open-mouthed at her, like an idiot.
She made eye contact with me, and I barely had the presence of mind to close my mouth and nod at her. Looking me up and down for a second, her face quickly broke into the most seductive smile I’d ever seen. Her eyes did most of the work, drawing me in with an unspoken promise, and while she didn’t actually lick her lips, something in her expression made me feel like she had, like she was assuring me about the pleasure her mouth could bring to me in the right setting. My cock twitched in reaction.
Donald from Dunlop said something to her, and she smiled and responded. He didn’t look good, and Clive was talking to her again. The bartender handed me a tray of drinks and I decided to steal back to my table, resolving to catch up with her later when she might be alone.
Summer
After Clive and the motor oil lady apologized for Donald, I was left alone at our table. The warming glow of scotch made me feel a little light-headed myself, so I decided to use the room I’d booked rather than drive home. Which meant I could treat myself to another before I retired.
At the bar, it was a struggle to be served. Ordinarily, I could just lean forward, show a little cleavage, and be attended to quickly, but the staff were being run ragged. Consequently, I ended up standing there long enough to get hit on by one Spaniard, two Italians, and an Australian. I diverted them all with a gentle smile. The Australian was the easiest to deter. I just spoke Spanish to him, and he gave up quickly.
I felt like indulging in a little stress relief after the disastrous night I’d had, and coupled with last night’s breakup with Derek, I felt I deserved it. Some dirty, physical, no-bullshit sex might be just what the doctor ordered, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized this could be almost the perfect venue. There was a wide selection of rich, good-looking guys, and almost all of them were looking for a one-night hookup.
The only fly in the ointment was that I was five-two, five-six in these heels, and I liked a man to tower over me, to physically dominate me. I liked it when I had to bend my head back and nearly break my back to enjoy a passionate kiss. I liked a man who could lift me off the floor and fuck me against a wall. Here, though, I seemed to be as tall or even taller than most of the men. Short stature must be an advantage in their sport, like a horse-racing jockey. Unfortunately, it was not attractive to me.
I stepped out for some air, onto a terrace on the west side of the banquet hall. It might only have been April, but even approaching midnight, the Texas air was warm and dry and smelled sweet. The terrace looked out over the hotel’s rounded swimming pool and beyond, over grasslands, trees, and the night-black waters of the Colorado River. I wondered where that guy from earlier had run off to.
He had looked to be over six feet, with some muscle to him. I had an image in my head. I don’t know where it came from, but it was of him. His neat, swept-back hair fell in tousled strands over his face. His face was above me, intimately close to mine, while he pushed himself inside me. Wow. I could almost feel him deep within me. The feeling was so strong I had to lean against the rail to steady myself.
That was intense. I must have been hornier than I realized. I counted on my fingers, and yes, it had been over ten days since I last had sex. Even longer since I last touched myself. It had been such a busy couple of weeks, I hadn’t realized. Poor Derek. No wonder he was so upset. Everything about us began to make more sense now.
“I hope you’re okay,” a man’s voice said from behind me. I looked around and, of course, there he was. “You look a little unsteady…do you need to sit?”
“I’ll be okay, thank you.” I tried to smile but my mouth felt dry. I don’t normally suffer from embarrassment, but I felt a heat rise in my cheeks, as if what this man had done to me in my imagination had been broadcast in a big technicolor cartoon thought bubble above my head and he had seen everything.
“If you’re sure,” he said. A little self-assured smile crept across his face, so I was certain he somehow knew exactly what I was thinking. Maybe sensing my discomfort, he looked out across the river. “Quite a view, isn’t it? I confess, I used to think Texas was all dry deserts, cactuses, and sun-bleached steer skulls.”
“You’re thinking of Arizona.”
“Yeah, that’s it. I get confused by all the states and countries after a while,” he mused. “Looking at the landscape, who can tell Germany from Britain, or Japan from Australia? You know?”
“I’m an Austin native, so you’re asking the wrong gal,” I told him.
He laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you trip over all the names I was dropping.”
It was my turn to laugh. “You’re forgiven.”
I turned and looked at him as he took in the scenery. He was definitely much bigger than the bike racers inside—had to be six-two and two hundred pounds. He was also much older, at least mid-thirties, and wore a suit and shirt that were very expensive, as were his watch, cufflinks, and shoes. In the soft light from the braziers on the terrace, I saw a class ring glint on his finger. When he took a sip, I made out the MIT logo on it; he must be some sort of high-priced engineer. Either that, or I was actually talking to Tony Stark without his Iron Man suit. I couldn’t quite place his west-coast accent, which made sense if he’d been traveling the world for years.
“So, I take it you travel around with a race team?” I asked him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, turning to me, “why don’t we keep it simple? I know you’re from Austin, you know I travel. I’m James.” He extended a hand, which I held for a second.
“Summer.”
“And let’s leave it at that. No last names, no jobs, no history, no baggage. Just be who you want to be for tonight. What do you say?” That self-assured smile was infectious.
The corners of my mouth started to turn upwards as I stared into his face. I felt a definite tingle deep inside my shamelessly hungry vagina at the thought of a completely anonymous one-night stand with this guy. It would have been even hotter if I’d used a fake name. Shame I didn’t think of it in time. I wondered if he was really called James.
“Sounds good to me, James. Where would you like to start?” I asked him.
“Well, first I’d like to tell you that you are the most alluring, enthralling, tempting, and effortlessly sexy woman I’ve seen in as long as I can remember.”
“Wow,” I breathed. That was such a line, but it was still nice to hear, especially delivered in that measured, unhurried tone of his. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“No, not all.”
We’d turned towards each other, and without realizing it, moved closer to each other. I had to crane my neck to look into his deep blue eyes, and our faces were only about twelve inches apart. The warm, masculine smell of him washed over me.
“And second?” I whispered. He looked blank. “First, you told me I was sexy. What was second?”
“Oh, yeah. Second.” Our faces were very close now. I could feel his fresh breath on my face, like the most miniscule shift in wind patterns would push our lips together. “Second, I ask you, as an Austin native, if you know where we can go for some privacy?”
I was aching, longing to feel his soft mouth on mine. My desperate pussy was moist. Without a word, I took his hand and led him off the terrace, down a flight of stone steps to the pool, and along the side of the building. A gravel path led to a courtyard that faced a parking lot on the east side of the hotel. Streetlights threw a hazy glow over the area.
I had taken control. We stopped, and I pushed him hard against the wall. I looked him in his beautiful blue eyes and pulled his face to mine until our foreheads met. I looked from his eyes to his mouth and back again. My heart pounded, and I was close to panting already. I licked my lips, but I’d decided I was not going to kiss him on the mouth. If it felt this good to not kiss him, I wouldn’t kiss him.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” I growled at him.
“Not as hard as I'm going to fuck you,” he growled right back.
I couldn’t tell where this intensity was coming from, but I liked it. His face was mostly in shadow, but I could make out his eyes, twinkling in the darkness. I maintained eye contact as I pulled his shirt out of his pants. Then I pulled his pants open urgently as his hands played up and down my back and over my ass. I finally felt his clothes drop to the ground, and I held him in my hands. He was already hard, so I slid my left hand under his balls as I ran the fingers of my right hand up and down his firm shaft. He let out a sigh as I traced every bump and vein along his impressive length, our heads still pressed together.
My hands moved to his chest. I pushed him back against the wall again and slowly sank to my knees until I stared directly at his big, firm cock, which twitched under my gaze. A smile
played over my lips as I looked him in the eye once more, saw the need, the lust, and the yearning on his face, then slipped my wet lips over the tip. My arms were against his stomach and chest, and using my mouth alone, I slid my lips as far down his shaft as I could and took his dick all the way to the back of my throat. He moaned as I held him there, his hot rod resting on my soft tongue. I could have finished him very quickly. The feeling of power was intoxicating. At my will, I could make his knees buckle, his eyesight disappear, and his cock explode in my mouth. Despite the almost painful throbbing from my pussy, I was sorely tempted to rock his world, and that only made me hornier. His dick was almost throbbing in time with me, with the pulsing in my clit; I couldn’t keep our sexes apart any longer.
I stood and pulled him away from the wall, turned, and leaned against it myself. He watched hungrily as I raised my dress. I exposed my smooth, bald pussy to him, and he was on me instantly. He put two hands under my bare buttocks and lifted me up, my back against the wall. I tried to maintain eye contact as I felt him nudging against my wet slit, but I was so open and ready for him, he slipped right in.
“Oh, absolutely…!” was what tumbled surprisingly from my mouth. I could feel him inside me, every inch slowly sliding deeper and deeper. I felt as if I was at my limit, my poor pussy stretched to breaking, so full, until he pushed even deeper. A small whimper escaped my lips as I felt my clit rub up against the base of his cock.
I tried to stay quiet—we were out in the open, after all—but moans escaped me as his strong arms held me still and he glided in and out of me. I put my hands around his neck and pressed my forehead against his again, and his thrusts became harder and faster. I could feel a heat growing in my pussy, radiating out through my whole body. That heat turned into an electric, almost burning ecstasy that threatened to take over my very being. My vision blurred and my head felt like collapsing in on itself. My body went limp, my arms slipped from his shoulders, and my neck no longer supported my head. The only contribution I could continue to make to our fucking was the high-pitched groans he forced out of me every time he pushed his hard dick urgently back inside me until, finally, an almighty drive sent me over the edge.