Free Ball kicking Porn Pics

Two more great stories of unconditional kindness.

I tried not to look, but I failed, and when I managed to drag my eyes away from her beautiful chest, and get back to her eyes, she was smiling.

"Care to make love to a 24-hour endurance racer?" she growled, tickling my chest with her nails.

"I'm not sure I can do a whole 24 hours," I smiled, pushing her onto her back, and easing between her legs. Her pussy was drenched already, and easily accepted my cock as I slipped into her. "Would you settle for one really good one?"

"Hmmmm, I suppose," she sighed, wrapping her legs around my waist. "That's what practice is for."

She was right about that, and I was willing to practice as often as she wanted. I'd do it over and over again, until I got it right, just the way she liked it.

***

Walking out into pit lane at Charlotte Motor Speedway, I was torn.

I wasn't sure which was sexier; Julie, in her new driving suit, or the Ford GT racecar that sat gleaming in the sun, waiting for her to climb in and do her thing.

"Wow," I breathed.

"Thank you, baby," Julie giggled, running her hands over the fabric of her suit. New sponsorship patches adorned the front, including the bullseye logo of Target retail stores. I watched her for a second or two, then stepped over to adjust it for her.

"It might be more appropriate if there were two of those," I laughed, pointing to the concentric circles.

"Yes, yes... I thought you might mention that," she grinned, glancing down at her chest. "Can't call too much attention to the girls. It's a family sport, after all."

"Then don't stand in profile," I smiled. Glancing over at the car, I continued. "Speaking of profile... Will you look at that thing?"

Many, many years ago, Henry Ford Jr. grew tired of losing races to the Ferraris of Enzo Ferrari, and he tasked his engineers to design a car that would end the Italian company's dominance. The car that resulted was the legendary Ford GT40, in which the '40' actually stood for the height of the car's roofline. That's pretty low.

Low is normal for racecars, but in the absence of a tape measure to verify the thought, I'd say the updated Ford GT was every bit as sleek. Access to modern wind tunnel technology had sculpted it into a bullet that would pierce the wind like a hot scalpel through butter. It looked like it was going a hundred miles an hour, just sitting still in the pits. Inside, it didn't look much slower, with a single seat, a small, padded steering wheel, and central electronic display for the driver.

I helped Julie into the car, and got her all strapped in, with helmet and HANS in place. Her pretty eyes looked into mine through the open visor of her helmet, and she nodded her readiness. A crew member helped close and latch the door, handing me a pair of headphones so I could hear the conversation between Chip and Julie.

To hear the car rumble, you'd never think that under its carbon-fibre body, behind the driver's head, lurked not a monstrous V8, but a modest V6 with twin turbochargers. Lighter than the V8, and better on fuel, it marked a change in strategy for racing, and it was right up Julie's alley.

By the time I made it up onto the observation platform, Julie was cruising slowly through the infield section of the combination road-oval track. Chip was talking to her.

"Okay, Julie. Just get to know the car for about ten or fifteen laps," he said, waving me over. "No target times for now. Just feel out the car, and how it reacts in the corners and on the brakes. You set your own pace, okay?"

"Roger that," I heard her reply, about the time she exited the last infield corner, rocketing out onto the banking of turn one of the NASCAR track.

Top Categories

#
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y