"There are some steps now, step up one, two, last one." Russell's soft rumbling voice guided along with his left hand at my elbow - the right on my waist. I could see nothing though my blindfold. I could hear the footfalls of another. I assumed that Russell had asked them not to speak. My feet shuffled forward with much trepidation. I focused my attention on my sense of smell. There was a faint aroma of some type of petroleum - like a gas station. Something else like rubber. Burnt rubber.

"Ok, luv. I'm going to lift you up and sit you down. Put your arms around my neck. Trust me?" I nodded yes. I was lifted up and my rear was placed on a narrow row of....bricks? No. Hard and smooth like concrete. "Turning you around. Easy now. I'm behind you. Lean back on me. Are you alright?" I nodded affirmative again. More footfalls. There were more people at this place.

Was that the high pitched whine of an impact gun I just heard? The clinking noises. Plates clanking together like you hear at a restaurant? No....like tools shuffled around in a tool box. I was getting delirious from the anticipation. I heard a voice whisper to 'wait' but it wasn't Russell's. Seconds ticked away. I could hear a car engine in the distance. Sounded like someone with a 'souped' up car, that was for sure. I could hear more shuffling and murmuring behind me.

"Ok - go ahead," the mystery person urged. I felt Russell's hands untie my blindfold and pull it away from my face. The sun was unsympathetic and blinding.

I put my hand up to my brow to shield my eyes so they could focus. I could see....stands...bleachers? No. Grandstands. There were words at the base of the grandstands. I was desperately trying to decipher what I was seeing when I felt something muffle my ears and

vvvvvvvvvvVVVVVVVVVVRRRRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMmmmmmmmm!!!

"HOLY SHIT!" An orange and white blur streaked from right to left in my field of vision. All at once, every hair on my being stood at attention. My heart skipped beats. I felt a bolt of electricity climb my thighs and meet between my legs.

I felt the top of my head and realized I was wearing headphones. I looked down and noticed that my seat was actually a low concrete wall. I looked to my right and saw the words "Home Depot" on a banner that spanned a good section of the wall. Beyond that I could see large toolboxes on wheels and generators. I quickly looked straight ahead where the words TALLADEGA SUPERSPEEDWAY screamed back at me. "My sweet Jesus," I heard myself mumble. Only then did I become aware of the giggling voice that I could hear and feel from the person I was leaning against. Russell had brought me to watch Tony Stewart turn some laps - no doubt testing a new car set-up. Stewart's crew was the only car there.

"Here he comes again, luv," the giggling man spoke. "Look!" His arm extended to my right and pointed. Sure enough the orange and white lightening roared by again. My outward and inward arousal hiked up another notch. I swung my legs over behind the wall to face Russell and was about to lay a big smootch on the lips surrounding the toothy, devastatingly gorgeous smile that he was sporting when I noticed a couple of people standing right behind him. I caught myself and blushed - and it must a have been a bright red one, because the two gentleman behind Russell passed sheepish glance between them. Russell followed my gaze to the men. "Luv, this is Greg Zipadelli the crew chief and Joe Gibbs the team owner."

I hopped off the wall and extended my hand to them. "It's very nice to meet you. 

"Thank you. This is a dream come true!"

"Just wait until you see what else we have in store for you!" Joe said. He grinned at Russell and winked at me.

I looked askance at Russell who leaned in and whispered, "I know how hot you get when you watch these NASCAR races on the telly." His breath was ardent and dripping with precariously controlled expectation. "I wanted to see what would happen if I pushed the envelope a little..." He pulled back and looked at me with eyes full of predatory wanton lust and fire. I felt liquid pooling and tickling my vulva. I fought back the desire to come right then and there.

We watched the #20 Home Depot car turn a few more laps. Tony Stewart was indeed testing a new car set up, from what I overheard Greg and Joe discussing as Tony pulled into the pits. I watched in awe at the way the pit crew performed with the finesse of a well-rehearsed orchestra. My brain attempted to devour every detail of the moment. I was aware of Russ was standing behind me, with a hand firmly grasping my hip and familiar hardness pressed into the small of my back.

He would lean in every so often and make suggestive comments that were only intensifying my impending climax.

He was so exquisitely cruel, was he not? Who else would set me up so perfectly? 

I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes. Russell could feel muscles tense up and my body become rigid. My breathing - however hard I tried to control it - was arriving in short pants. "That's it, baby. Can you stand it?" he cooed.

I wanted nothing more than to turn around, rip his pants off, and fuck him silly right there. Of course, exhibitionism wasn't in my sexual repertoire - all I could do was ride out my secret in silence. Russell put his other arm around me in a public show of affection, but I knew it was really his attempt to steady me in case my knees gave way under the mental strain of masking an orgasm. My hands gripped his bare arm. My nails dug in viciously. My jaw was set and I drew in a breath sharply and exhaled. "Jesus, your heart is pounding so fast, I'm afraid it's going to explode in your chest!" he whispered in a concerned tone.

Of course, I couldn't respond verbally. Not yet. Concerned? Hah! He had infinite dominance, and he knew it. Make no mistake, very minute of this event was pre-planned. Every second. Like the motorcycle trip in Mississippi and the fling in the Princeton library. Do you not think it is scary how someone other than yourself could know your body and mind this well? Knowing exactly how you would react? He was a perceptive little shit, mentally documenting everything I said and did. He fed off it. My observation was that Russell craved to have something in his life that he had total control over and many times, that thing was me. I never felt like I was made to sell my soul or to perform acts that were demeaning - although I knew deep down that if he asked me to ink a deal with the devil in blood, I would. In spades.

My breathing became even and I regained my eyesight (hah!) fairly soon. My only battle wound was the inside of my lip - which was now bleeding profusely. I sucked on my lip until I no longer taste the saltiness. "Are you ready? Or do you need a few more seconds before..."

"No. I'm done - and recovered." I whipped around to face him. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth and I grabbed a handful of this t-shirt and pulled him to my eye level "You are a wicked, wicked soul, Russell."

Russell crooked his finger under my chin, cocked his eyebrow and said "I haven't even begun yet...you just wait." His eyes pushed that button again, firing up my arousal.

Joe was standing with Tony and Greg behind the pit wall and motioned us over.

"She's pushing in the turn a little, but other than that I think we are set."

Maybe just a little wedge would help." Tony glanced in our direction as we approached and ended his conversation with a nod. He was searching for a ball cap to cover his 'helmet hair'. Russ greeted him first.

"Mr. Stewart. Thank you for agreeing to our visit." The mile wide golly-gee smile on Tony's face told me that he was just as excited about meeting Russell as I was about seeing his race car this close (well....maybe not as physically excited as I was...)

"I hope you don't mind Mr. Crowe, but I couldn't keep the secret from my girlfriend." He fiddled with the brim of his cap nervously. "She's on her way over from the hotel right now - would an autograph be ok?"

"Certainly. Oh it's Russell, please."

"As long as you call me Tony! Hey, they're bringing the other test car around." 

Tony turned to address me directly. "She ain't as pretty as this one, but she'll do for a ride. Where are the firesuits and helmets, Greg?"

"The what?" I thought I guessed what they meant by that exchange, but I wanted verbal confirmation. My eyes darted from Russ to Tony to Joe and then back to Russ. I was getting dizzy. All they did was grin in amusement at my confusion.

"They're in the trailer - come with me folks." Greg motioned us to Tony's trailer. Russell was guiding me forward with his hand in the small of my back.

"Are we going for a ride, Russ?" I stammered. He didn't reply.

There were a couple of well-worn firesuits and helmets outfitted with radios and ear protection waiting for us in the trailer. We pulled the suits on, tucked the helmets under our arms and made our way back to the pits. Sure enough there was another car parked on pit road. It was painted orange and white, but had no vinyl stickers or decoration otherwise. The interior was a departure from the typical NASCAR rule book design as well. There was passenger seat next to the driver - and the only way I figured that was because of the 5 point harness that was attached to the cage. There was no padding, or anything for that matter, except a steel race car seat. I also noticed the same sort of seating in the rear of the car - where a "backseat" would be in any normal passenger car. This was a single person seat, located right behind the passenger seat. I must have had a questioning look on my face, because Tony walked up and explained:

"This interior was originally designed to allow a couple of crew members to ride along during the test laps to take notes and measurements. We've also used it for a couple of shoots for commercials. I think we used it in the last Home Depot commercial I shot. Here - let me help you put your helmet on." He pointed out that the ear buds dangling down from the inside of the helmet suffice as ear protection when the radio isn't keyed up. "Just pop them in your ears. The volume control is on the cable attached to the back of the helmet." The helmet was too big for me, but I didn't care. Tony seemed to be tickled at the stupid grin that was plastered on my face. "Who's riding up front?"

"She is, mate." Russell responded from behind me.

"Alright - the passenger seat pops out - that is how you get in the back, Russell." A crew member was performing the task as Tony explained. I was suddenly terrified that Russell wouldn't 'fit' in the back seat - there wasn't a whole lot of room back there. Of course, he proved me wrong. "Just get into the car facing forward as if you were sitting in the passenger seat, then scoot all the way back - there is more room back there than you think! Let one of the guys check your harness." Tony explained. Russell was in place. The passenger seat was fastened back and I hopped into the car and belted up - although with much adjustment.

Being short does have its downfalls. I could barely see over the dash. I then realized that it would be the same view going around the world to the left, so what difference did it make? I could hear Russell giggling in the back seat as Tony entered the driver's seat and buckled in. "Ok folks." Tony held out a multi plug adapter. "Plug that cable hanging from the back of your helmet in here - so we can talk to each other and the pit crew. All you need to do is talk when you want to, there is no button to push. But only one person can talk at a time."

Tony patiently went through the drill as if he had done this before. "Everyone ready?"  Russell and I did a simultaneous 'thumbs up'. It was quite comical.

Have I mentioned that my hair was still standing on end all over my body? I had to have been one huge goose pimple. My nipples were painfully hard and sensitive. I couldn't tell if the moisture between my legs was from earlier, or if I had regenerated it since. Did I also mention that Mr. Stewart is quite a looker up close? Don't tell Russ that I said that. I'd never be able to watch another NASCAR race in peace.

Tony pushed the ignition switch and she fired up on the first lick. It was very loud, indeed. And the vibration. The car pulsated with every turn of the cam.

Tony motioned for us to close the acrylic visor on our helmets over our eyes. He gently eased the car into first and pulled forward. I watched the real estate coast by, feeling like we were sitting still and the world was moving, not us.

We merged onto the track from pit road effortlessly. I imagined that it must be nice for Tony to drive the track alone, and not have to watch out for other cars. We were past turn 1 and 2, approaching turn 3 before I could figure out what to do with my hands. I held on to the cage bars on either side of me for dear life. I felt like I was flying so high, that I might come out of the car at any moment. Noticing my sudden movement, Tony spoke, "Okay over there? We'll be up to speed on the next lap." I nodded yes, because I couldn't speak. We were up to 112 mph and I was completely speechless. I felt my stomach lurch and was temporarily petrified that was going to hurl in Tony's car.

We made two laps and our speed was 150 mph. I later found out that 150 is the top speed that Tony would drive rookie guest passengers. Any more than that made him nervous. The track race speed record was around 188, set by Mark Martin. The qualifying speed record was held by Bill Elliott - 212mph and some change, Tony explained as he settled into his "groove" around the track. The fact that I couldn't get my eyes to focus on anything - because everything was a blur - made me ask Tony, "How....many years....do you have to drive.....before you can SEE when ....you...are.....driving?" I managed to stammer.

"Ha ha ha ha - oh, I don't know, you just get used to it I guess. It's easier when you have bumpers to aim at," he mused. Feeling more at ease, I drilling him with the typical race fan questions - what does he think about when he's out here? Doesn't he get hot in that suit? What was his favorite track? If he has to ride behind someone, who and why. Russell was quiet except for laughing at Tony's responses and jokes.

After 10 laps, Tony pulled into pit road and parked the car in the same spot as earlier. The crew help extricate us from the car. I almost fell on Tony when I attempted to stand. My knees were jelly. I got my footing and started to remove my helmet to thank Tony. "You better keep that on, if you're going to drive." Tony instructed.

"Wha? Wha? What? Oh, I can't drive that car. Noooo. That's ok." I backed up away from the car, holding my palms up in a forfeiting gesture.

"Luv, don't play dumb - you know you can drive that car...I've seen you dog that BMW that I used to drive. Don't let her fool you, Tony!" Russell had his helmet off and was coming out of his firesuit.

"In the car....git!" motioned Tony with a laugh.

"I can't even see over the dash. I probably can't reach ...tha...pedals..." my voice dropped off as I noticed a crew member adjusting the seat closer to the steering wheel.

"Well, you are going to have to sit on some extra cushions. We can't adjust the height of the seat in this particular car, but I'm sure he can get the seat close enough to the wheel for you. Come on...."

I stared at Russell through the helmet visor. "Oh...no....I've had enough. I'm going to stay right here while you have your maiden voyage." He laughed and popped up the visor on my helmet. He planted a kiss on the bridge of my nose, because that was the only visible skin in the narrow opening.

I started to climb into the driver's seat, when Tony leaned in, "If you have to go, I'd go ahead and go right now." I paused for a second and shook my head 'no'. Tony smiled and helped buckle me in. The explained the gear pattern and told me where the "sweet spot' in the clutch pedal was. He pointed out the grease pencil mark on the tachometer, telling me to shift gears when the needle lined up with the mark. Tony motioned for me to press the ignition button. When it didn't crank, he directed to pull out the choke and push the button again.

She fired right up. "Give her a couple of stokes and push the choke back in." I revved her twice and beamed up at him. He backed away from the window and turned so Russell could see the look on my face.

"Bloody hell," Russell shouted. "I think I've just created a monster!" Russell donned the headset that Greg passed him - so he could listen to the conversation. Tony gave me a thumbs up and attached the window net. He ran to the passenger side and climbed in.

"Check the steering wheel. Tug on it - make sure it's not going to come off." 

Tony's tinny voice sounded through my ear pieces. "Ok. Push the clutch in and put her in first." Of course, my triumphant ego was doused instantly when the engine died.

"Dammit!" I cried in frustration.

"S'okay, give it more throttle when you let off the clutch...you'll feel the spot I was talking about." Tony was very patient and I was thankful that he didn't tease me about it. I started the engine and tried again. Failure. I had this sinking, embarrassed feeling that someone was going to have to put the damn car in first for me - just so I could drive it. I looked to my left and saw all eyes upon me through the window net. "Ever street raced?" Tony's question caught me off guard.

"What?" I turned to look at him. "Well, yeah..." He leaned over and got a firm grip on the steering wheel with his right hand.

"OK then, start the engine and push the brake and clutch all the way to the floor with one foot. You can do it - your foot is wide enough - the pedals are close together, then put it in gear. Whenever you're ready, push the throttle to the floor and dump the clutch. I've got the steering wheel, don't worry. I shook my head no and he shook his head yes.

"I'll smoke the tires, won't I?" I trembled with nervousness.

"Uh...yeah - but you'll look cool...ha ha ha," Tony chuckled. I could hear laughter from those wearing headsets in the pits - including Russell.

"Okay...here goes nothing." I shut my eyes, took deep cleansing breath, stared forward and performed the tasks in perfect order. I heard tires squeal. I dumped the clutch and slightly fishtailed down pit road. I backed off the throttle and cruised onto the track as Tony let go of the steering wheel. I think I remember hearing shouts and cheers in my ear pieces and I grinned to myself. Another person seemed to take over from there. I was watching myself accelerate to the mark in the tachometer, then smoothly shifting to the next gear. I don't remember the first lap, but I do remember Tony verbally guiding me into the appropriate line for me to drive. On the second lap, I had the car up to 115 mph and that was the fastest I cared to take the car. I could hear Tony praising me, but I was far more mentally centered on the fact that I was in control of an actual Winston Cup race car. I also realized that if I kept the engine up to the mark just left of the red on the tachometer, the vibration to my bottom was quite pleasant - along with the seatbelt between my legs pressing against the stiff seam of the firesuit down there. I couldn't hold on much longer. I swallowed hard and moaned through clenched teeth, "Sweet God in Heaven.....grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

"I felt the same way when I first drove one of these cars!" said Tony, quite oblivious to the real meaning behind my blasphemy. More laughs from the Peanut Gallery in my ear piece.

On my 5th lap, I prepared to pull into pit road. "Thanks, Tony. You really know how to show a girl a good time!" I knew I would get a response from Russell on that.

"Whoa, mate - I'm feeling a little left out here!" an Aussie voice piped in. I managed to stop and park the car fairly close to its starting position. We piled out of the car as a camera flash kept repeating over and over. One of the crew members was taking photographs at Joe's suggestion. We posed with the team and Tony and the car, almost ad nauseum.

Tony's girlfriend had arrived while I was on the track and was talking with Russell. She had an evident 'star-stuck, deer-in-the-headlights' look on her face as she held the DVDs that Russell had signed for her. I shucked my firesuit and was soaked in sweat, which probably was a good thing, since it masked the tell-tale signs of release that had formed in the crotch of my blue-jean shorts.

It was also a good excuse for why I was flushed a bright red - well - it was to everyone but Russell. He knew. The satisfied look on his face said it all.

"It's hot in there, ain't it?" Joe chuckled and put his hand on my shoulder. He motioned me towards Tony's trailer. I tore my gaze away from Russell. "I told Russell to bring extra clothes. Why don't you go inside and rinse off? Your bag is right inside the door."

I told you that Russell had this all planned out. He stood outside the trailer and waited for me, knowing full well that he would be on the receiving end of the most incredible obligatory shag of his lifetime when we got back to the condo. You can imagine my surprise at what happened next.

When I exited the trailer after a quick shower, I noticed that most of the crew, including Tony, his girlfriend, Joe, and Greg were gone. Russell explained that he invited all of them out to dinner and that we would meet them there. I nodded in agreement and interjected that I thought it was a wonderful idea. Before I knew what was happening, Russell had slipped the blindfold back over my eyes and was tying it behind my head.

"What's this?" I demanded.

"You don't think that you're the only one entitled to a good time, do ya darlin'?" the purr in his voice made me visibly shudder. He noticed and giggled.

We walked in sexually charged silence for what seemed an eternity. I had no clue what he was up to. All I did know is that it would feel sinfully wonderful - whatever it was. "Stop!" he commanded. I heard keys jingling and a metal door squeak open. A hand on my back nudged me forward and I heard the door shut and a lock click into place. I moved my hands up to my blindfold. "No. Leave it on."

Russell stated firmly.

I felt his hands on either side of my waist as he lifted me up and sat me on something metal that was cool to the touch. Wherever we were was very open and hollow, as his voice echoed with every command. "Lift your arms." I complied and off came my T-shirt. My long still-wet hair from my quickie shower was cold on my bare back. My nipples sprang to attention from the sensation. Russell's breathing was heavy and warm on my shoulder as he leaned over to undo my bra.

Taking a chance, I carefully reached out directly in front of me. Bullseye! I rubbed my hand up and down the bulge in his pants, rewarded with a groan and a sigh. Call me crazy, but I thought that he sounded so close to release that it would be best to take care of pressing matters first.

I slid off the cool metal, realizing that it was a car hood. I dropped to my knees and deftly unbuttoned and unzipped him out of his jeans. Not a great judge of distance, I was bonked on the nose by Russell's dick when I freed him from his confines. I heard Russell laugh and then choke on a sharp intake of breath when I crammed his entire length in my mouth and throat. "Oh fuck. Fuck yes. Fuck...Fuck...Fuck....rrrrrrrrrrr," he chanted. His hands were in my hair, fingers weaving. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and began pumping his hips into my mouth. It was all so raw and primitive. I couldn't discern any more words of the English language spilling from his mouth, only grunts and growls through what sounded like a set jaw. With a trust that almost rendered me unconscious, his seed spurted and washed a flood down my throat. I suckled him dry, proud of my ministrations.

Russell pulled out of my mouth and took my hand, lifting me to a standing position. "Mmmm...too awkward." He was mumbling. "Ahh...this will work." I heard the clanking of metal. Maybe tools - wrenches? being scattered. I felt his fingers fumbling with the fly of my shorts. He pushed my shorts and panties down to my ankles and instructed me to lift my feet to step out of them." I was once again lifted up and onto a foreign surface. I felt around and deduced that I was sitting on a towel and that the cool metal on the back of my legs were the handles to the drawers contained in a tool box. I swish of air told me that he had taken his shirt off.

His hand was behind my neck, pulling me into a slow passionate kiss. Our tongues exploring each other's mouths with great intensity. My hands were on his hips, moving upward and around to his back, massaging and kneading. "Do you know what it's like to stand there and watch you come and not being able act upon it? Do you know what it was like to hear you over the headset? Yes, I knew what was happening. The only time I've ever heard you use that phrase was with me." His voice had a sinister reprimanding tone to it that I found fabulously wicked and yummy.

"Are you telling me that I've been bad?" I replied in my best little school girl voice.

"Yessss. And as your punishment, you must wear that blindfold while I fuck ya silly." He punctuated the last part of that sentence with little bites down my neck. The anticipation created a searing wave of arousal at my core which emanated down my legs. Russell devilishly chuckled to himself as I heard a ripping sound, what was it? There it was again....My hands were gathered behind my back and something....sticky...was being used to bind them.. Duct tape. It had to be. More affectionately known to the racing world as 'Hundred Mile an Hour Tape'.

"What do you think you are doing, Mr. Crowe?" I asked defiantly.

"That is the other part of your punishment. Heh heh heh."

"Very funny - now undo...." He silenced me with his mouth, rough enough to bruise my lips and to make my self-inflicted bite on the inside of my mouth begin bleeding again. His kiss became less coarse and more calculated and slow. His lips and teeth teased my painfully erect nipples. It was killing me - not knowing where he would strike next. I couldn't see. I couldn't feel. His hands were on my knees, holding my legs apart as his mouth made its way to the most sensitive part of my body. He teased and tickled my clit with his tongue, sending me into a writhing frenzy. His hands repositioned my ass closer to the edge of the toolbox. I felt one, then two fingers enter me. His lips had returned to my neck.

"What do you want? Hmmmmm?" his voice was heavy, low, and rumbling.

"Please fuck me!" I practically squealed.

"I'm sorry, you've got to be more specific than that, darlin'." Cruelty, thy name is Russell.

"Grrrrrrrr." I spat in frustration.

"Ah ah ah" he cooed in a sadistic SIDesque voice, "You're not being a good little girl. Perhaps I should help you." He placed his cock at my opening and paused when I suddenly drew in a breath and held it. "Is this what you want, baby?" Even though my sight was restricted, I knew he had his head tilted to the side with his chin up in the air - staring down at me. The thought of that look was coaxing me over the edge. He nudged himself in a little further. I was still holding my breath. My pulse pounded in my ears. If he would just let go of my knees, I could shove him all the way in with my legs - but no. He was too smart for that.

"Mmmm. You're ready for me, aren't you? Are you thinking about me, or your car ride?" He pulled out of me and I whined.

"No! It's you, baby. Just you!" I was nearly in tears. His hands were immediately on my hips and he sheathed himself inside me with one smooth vicious thrust.

"And that better be ALL you think about when you come, luv." He drove each word home with a thrust of his hips. Of course I came immediately when he entered me.

That is the thing about being blindfolded. The other senses become heightened to adjust for the missing one.

"Russell, oh Jesus! Yes! Yes! Please......harder....Fuck me!" I heard myself scream.

He obliged until I came again. When he felt my muscle contractions slow and gradually become less and less intense, so did he. I felt his fingers unwrap my wrists and massage the feelings back into my hands and arms. He was still hard inside me, sliding in and out gently. He pulled my blindfold off and smiled at me.

"I need to see your eyes. I need you to look at me," he whispered. I couldn't look away if my life depended on it. His motions quickened, but were still passionate and tender. His breathing became ragged and his eyes rolled into his head as he came. I grabbed his hips and held him inside me as he filled me to the brim.

He held me in an embrace until he could catch his breath. I started stealing glances at my surroundings. We were in the garage area. I saw the Home Depot banners and I peered over Russell's shoulder to see what looked like Tony's 'race ready' car. "Ummm...Russell...."

"Yes, luv."

"How are we going to explain the dent in the hood of the car?" He turned and noticed the indentation made by my ass on the flimsy sheet metal.

"Hmmm. I won't tell if you won't....."