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The Racer's EdgeChapter 2 free porn video
When we got finished with the victory banquet, we were exhausted; my hand was nearly blistered from all of the congratulatory handshakes on the race and our engagement. Patty's mother came up to me and said, "John, thank you for making my daughter the happiest woman in the world tonight". I told her that Patty had made me equally happy by agreeing to become my wife.
Patty and I strolled hand-in-hand back to my-our-room; Patty went to "her" half of our adjoining two rooms to change. I told her not to bother changing, but when she returned, she was bare as the day she was born, a fact not missed by myself and my little head. The only thing she had on was a radiant smile and her engagement ring.
No words were spoken; she yanked my shorts down and pushed me back on the bed. She leaned down and took me in her mouth, bobbing up and down until she had me in her throat; she continued working me with her throat muscles until I told her, "Patty, I'm gonna cum soon." She nodded, and started humming, and I blew my load directly down her throat. I felt my toes curl as I exploded.
When she was finished making sure I was empty and clean, she snuggled up next to me. I kissed her deeply. I could taste faint traces of myself on her lips and tongue.
"How can you do that, just after I gave you a blowjob?" she asked.
"If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me," I replied.
"By the way; when did you have time to buy me this ring?" she asked.
"When I slipped out for a while this morning. Do you know how hard it is, finding a decent jeweler open on Memorial Day?"
"It's absolutely gorgeous," she said. "It must have cost you a fortune."
"Well, I made just enough tonight to cover the bill on my credit card," I told her. "Very funny," she said, knowing I had taken in about two and a half million bucks for the victory.
She laughed and slapped my shoulder, and then laid her head back on my chest. I stroked her hair, and kissed her forehead.
"I love you, you know," I told her softly.
"And I you," she replied.
She started playing with my dick, and soon, it was as rigid as a pipe again. She climbed on top of me, and impaled herself on my dick.
"Oh Christ, that's good," she said. She rode me to three orgasms for her, versus none for me; the blowjob had taken the edge off.
"Roll over," I told her.
"Oh. Goody!" she exclaimed, getting on her hands and knees, wiggling her ass at me. I mounted her, dog-style, and slid into her depths in one stroke. I slid in and out, repeatedly, reaching under her and tweaking her nipples; her head was down on the pillow, and she was gripping it tightly. When she came, she bit into the pillow to muffle her screams.
It must have done little to muffle the sound, however, as the people in the next room started banging on the wall. I checked, and found that the headboard was loose, and was banging the wall with every stroke. I got a blanket from the bed in Patty's room, folded it, and wedged it between the headboard and the wall. We laughed about it for a while, while we rested before the next round.
The next weekend, at Milwaukee, I won, with Patty finishing second. Her first victory came at Pocono, PA, after my engine blew. So it went, throughout the season, with my picking up enough points to take the championship by one point-over Patty.
Over the winter, between testing and media events, we talked about the wedding. We decided we'd be married during the off-season the following year. She wasn't interested in having kids, and I was getting a little old to be thinking of starting a family, so I got fixed. That took care of my driving for a week, so it was a good thing we'd had nothing planned. It also took care of sex for a couple of weeks, so Patty got her exercise riding my face. I didn't mind; I loved eating her to orgasm.
The following Spring, when the season started, we picked up right where we left off, basically killing the competition by finishing one-two in three of the first four races, my winning two and she won one. Larry sneaked in a victory along the way. All was fine-until we got to Michigan.
When we unloaded at Michigan, we went about practicing and fine-tuning the setups; Patty had gone out, and was running respectable numbers. I went out, and followed her for a few laps.
We were coming through the "D" section, when I saw a part fly off the left rear of her car. Her car immediately did a sharp left, and she went into the concrete barrier head-on at nearly full speed. The blood nearly ran out of my feet. I had my belts loose and HANS device disengaged even before my car came to a stop. I jumped out of my car, and ran to Patty. She was slumped in the car, but conscious; I asked her if she was hurt anywhere.
"Yeah," she said. "I think my left foot is broken, and I'm not too sure about my right wrist," she replied. I hit the push-to-talk button on her steering wheel, and told the crew to tell the helicopter to warm up and get ready for a hot load. The safety crew got there, and I started barking orders. My experience in vehicle design, coupled with my certification as an Emergency Medical Technician, took over.
"Get a long spine board behind her, and get ready to cut the top off the tub. She's complaining about her left foot and right wrist. We'll take her with her helmet and HANS device still attached. Lets go!"
"Just let us do our job, sir," the head medic said. Easier said than done, I'll tell you. We got her out of the car, and loaded into the ambulance, and headed for the medical center; I could see that they heeded my advice and had the chopper running. She was loaded, strapped down, and they lifted off. I was doing my best to hide my tears when Ronnie Langley, the team owner, came up to me.
"John, if you don't feel you can keep your head in the game, we'll find someone to get in your car."
"No, I'm OK," I said. "We've talked about this; we agreed that if something happened to one of us, the other was to keep going."
They had towed my car back to the pits, and I walked to it. I put my helmet back on, going through the motions, but feeling nothing. I climbed in, strapped in, hooked up my radio, and told them to start me. I screamed out of the pits, and within ten laps, I was within last year's pole speed. I knew I could find a little more tomorrow morning before qualifying. I pulled into the pits and shut it off. Ronnie was standing there.
"Get on the golf cart," he said. "Jack's going to take you over to the (Ronnie's) helicopter, and it's ready to take you over to the hospital. We'll find the rest tomorrow; just call me when you're ready to come back, and I'll send someone over to pick you up."
"Thanks, Ronnie," I said. By the time I got to the hospital, they had Patty's helmet broken off of her, and her HANS device off. They had cut her driving suit off, and replaced it with one of those backless hospital gowns. I barged into the ER, and the nurse threatened to have me physically removed.
"No!" Patty shouted. "He stays!" The nurse backed down. I bent down and kissed her.
"How ya doing, Sweetheart?" I asked.
"Like shit. I feel like I've been dropped off a 15-story building and landed on both my feet and my head," she said. Little did she know that the computer telemetry from the car would show that that's exactly the force with which she hit the wall.
"We're going to take you down for some MRI's," the nurse told us. They wheeled her, bed and all, down through a maze of halls that nobody could memorize and find his way back even if he wanted to.
When we got to Radiology, they started to take the chain from around her neck; that chain held her dog tags with vital medical information on them, and her engagement ring.
"NO," she cried.
"You can't have anything metal on while you're in the MRI, Ma'am", the nurse told her.
"Here, Sweetie," I told her. "I'll wear the chain on MY neck 'til you can put it back on."
"Promise?" she asked.
"Promise. Now GO!" I told her.
I put the chain on, and it felt good against mine. They ran a full body scan, X-ray'd her foot, ankle, knee, and opposite arm and hand. Then, we made that long trek back to ER. And, then, we waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, a doctor came in.
"Well, Ma'am," he started out, "You have fractures of your left ankle and knee, right wrist, two compression fractures in your spine, and a concussion. All told, you're lucky to be alive."
"What about treatment?" I asked.
"You'll need fairly extensive surgery, far more than we're capable of here," he said.
"I want her flown to Indianapolis," I said.
"I assume you want Dr. Trammell at Methodist Hospital," he stated. "Dr. Trammell is the best in the business with these injuries," he said. "We'll keep her here for a couple of days to stabilize her, and then I'll arrange transportation down to Indianapolis," he said. "I'll check in on you later," he told Patty, who was already getting ready to cry.
"Don't worry, Sweetie," I told her. "I'll be with you every minute I can, even if we have to put someone else in the car once in a while."
"NO!" she shouted adamantly. "We have a championship to think about here. We can't sacrifice the points you'd lose. I'll be fine. Now, give me a kiss and get back to the track," she said. I gave her a kiss, and remembered her ring. I took her chain off, and took the ring off the chain and put it back on her finger. I called Ronnie, and-within seven minutes-the chopper was back. We flew back to the track in utter silence.
When we got back to the track, Ronnie was waiting for me.
"Come on, let's go get some dinner," he said.
"I'm not hungry," I stated flatly.
"Yes, you are," he responded. "It's hot, and you need to keep your carbs and protein up in this heat."
We wound up going to a steakhouse, and I had a slab of prime rib; I have to admit, I was getting hungry, and I killed it.
"Now, we talk," Ronnie said. "What are we going to do about Patty's car? We need to think about putting someone in the back-up car."
"We have to look for someone that's available," I told him.
"I know one person who's available," Ronnie said. "Tracy Paulson." I made a face. "I know you don't care for him, but he knows the cars, and can drive the wheels off of them."
"That's the problem," I said. "He has a long history of driving the wheels off 'em. Well, you're the boss; you can do what you think is best."
"Yes, I can," he said. "But I also value your opinions; you and Patty have made me far more money in one season than I dreamed possible, and I feel like you're an unofficial partner in this operation."
"Thank you," I said. "That means a lot, especially coming from you. Well, let's find Tracy and see what kind of deal he needs."
Ronnie called the PA announcer's stand and had Tracy Paulson paged to our hauler. Soon, he showed up.
"Tracy," Ronnie began, "Patty's pretty banged up; John has a better idea of her injuries and can fill us both in at the same time."
"She has fractures of her left ankle and knee, right wrist, two compression fractures in her spine, and a concussion. I'd have to say she's done for the better part of the season."
"What kind of deal would you be looking for?" Ronnie asked Tracy.
"On a temporary basis, I'd take thirty percent of the winnings, with no guarantees. John, I know you don't like me, so I know this is a bitch of a decision for you, seeing me in Patty's car," he said.
"Tracy, I have to think of what's best for the team here, and try my best to keep my personal feelings out of it. No, I don't like you; you're hard on equipment, quick to blame everybody else for your misfortunes, and-to a great extent-reckless on the track. Ronnie gave me a hell of an opportunity last May at Indy, and he's willing to give you that same opportunity now. My feeling is, we try it and see how it works out; but, know this-if I see you're being careless or doing ANYTHING to discredit this team- I'll recommend you be put on your ass quicker than you know."
"OK, enough," Ronnie said. "Tracy, in the morning go over and get fitted for a suit, and then get over to the pits. We'll have an hour and a half to get you up to speed before qualifying."
"Thank you, Ronnie, for giving me this chance," Tracy said. "John, I'll do my best to not let you and Patty down. Please, give her my best wishes when you see her."
With that, Tracy left Ronnie and me alone.
"Well, what do you think?" Ronnie asked me.
"I think if he fucks up, I'll be on his ass faster than he can cover it," I said.
"OK. Going back to the hospital?" he asked.
"No, I'll just call her, and then hit the sack."
"John, you never heard me say this, but I want you to take a stiff belt before you turn in."
"I still have a couple of hours before the twelve-hour cut-off; I may just do that," I responded.
I went back to the motor coach, and mixed a hell of a drink. Then, I sat down and called Patty.
"Hullo... ?" she answered.
"Did I wake you up, Sweetie?" I asked her, already knowing the answer.
"Umm, they gave me a shot a while ago, and I'm a little..." Click.
I chuckled, sat back with my drink, and tried to watch television. It was time for the news, and every damned channel was replaying Patty's crash. I didn't need to see it again, so I turned the TV off, took my drink, and went to bed.
All night long, I kept having nightmares, replaying the scene over and over, except the outcome was different; this time, I could envision her, in a white wedding dress, lying in a casket, with flowers all around her.
The next morning, I put on my suit, went out to the pits, and got ready for practice. When 10:00 am came, we were turned loose; I quickly got up to speed, but every time I came through the "D", I could see Patty's skid marks. They'd re-painted the wall overnight, but there wasn't much they could do about the pavement. The car felt fine, and the speeds were far greater than yesterday's. I pulled in, and turned the car off.
Tracy was just going out and, after about twenty laps off and on, it was clear that he'd make the race, but with a poor qualifying effort.
At 1:00 pm, qualifying started. I drew the tenth slot, and Tracy had 17th. Larry had 20th. The nine drivers before me all posted speeds faster than last year's pole speed; this wasn't going to be easy. When I started the car to go out, I said to myself, 'Patty, this one's for you.' Two laps later, I took the green flag, and two laps later, it was clear that I'd win the pole by a significant margin.
I pulled in, and waited while Tracy got ready to make his run. Out of the 17 qualifiers, he turned in 12th. Larry turned in third, and the field of twenty-five cars filled in the rest. I told Ronnie I was heading back to the hospital, and he said he had the chopper warming up. I told him I didn't expect him to keep that kind of expense up. He told me to get my ass on that chopper and get to the hospital.
I got to the hospital, and Patty was still pretty groggy from the pain meds. They had splinted her ankle and wrist, put a temporary cast on her knee, and had her lying flat to take the pressure off her spine. The doctor told me that he had already been in touch with Dr. Trammel at Methodist Hospital, and he was sending their helicopter Monday morning to take her back to Indianapolis. As I sat there, the effects of last night's alcohol and little sleep caught up with me, and I dozed off.
I don't know how long I was asleep before I was hit in the head with a pillow. Patty was awake, and I'd been out for two hours. I went to her "good arm" side, gave her a hug, and a soul-wrenching kiss. Her parents were flying in that afternoon, and could baby-sit while I was at the track. Patty started crying.
"John, I'm so sorry; I've fucked everything up," she said.
"You didn't fuck anything up; the car broke," I told her
"Are you sure, or just telling me that?" she asked.
"I was coming up behind you, and saw a suspension part come off the left rear," I told her. "You didn't stand a chance."
"Has Ronnie found someone to put in my car?"
"Uhhh ... Yeah."
"Don't tell me, let me guess. Paulson."
"Yeah."
"What's his take?"
"Thirty percent of whatever he wins. He said he sends his best wishes."
"Well, at least it's a damn sight less than I'm making," she said. "By the way, how did you qualify?"
"Pole, of course."
"Close and lock the door," she said. I did as told.
"Eat me," she said, spreading her legs. Again, I did as told, tasting her sweet nectar. I brought her to two quick orgasms with her screaming out after each one. After she calmed down, I opened the door again, only to find a grinning nurse standing there.
"I knew that wasn't a scream of pain, so I thought I'd wait and not interrupt," she whispered. "That's the best medicine she could get, right now. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous-I wish MY boyfriend were that attentive." With that, she pulled me out into the hallway and down for a kiss, burying her tongue in my mouth. "Mmmm ... tasty girl you have in there," she said.
I stayed with Patty until her parents arrived. Both parents were doing their best to not let their emotions show, but her mother started crying, and left the room. I followed her out, and held her.
"Oh, John," she said, "How is she going to get through this, not driving for God knows how long?"
"It's the same risk we all take, every time we climb in the car," I told her. "Patty's strong, and she'll do fine; let's just get her through the next few weeks."
We went back into Patty's room, and I kissed her good-bye.
"John, be careful tomorrow," Patty said.
"I will be; you just be watching."
I called Ronnie, and seven minutes later, the helicopter arrived. We flew back to the track, and there was a golf cart waiting for me. "Team meeting", the driver told me.
I arrived at the hauler in record time, and took a seat. Ronnie started the meeting.
"First," he said, looking at me. "How's Patty?"
"Resting more comfortably; her parents are here now. She'll be going to Methodist on Monday morning. Trammell's going to send Lifeline for her so she'll have a quick trip. By chopper, it'll be a little over an hour, versus four hours by ground ambulance."
"OK," he said. "Next item. We've inspected the part that came off her car. It had a stress fracture on it, so we've taken the part off the other two cars as well. Magnafluxing revealed the same stress fracture in the other two as well. I've turned the results over to the league, and they're having every car replace the part before tomorrow. Patty may just have saved a bunch of lives.
"Next item. Tracy, tomorrow, I want you to work your way up to Larry and stay there. Your jobs are to keep the competition off John's ass until the last ten laps. After that, all team orders are off, and it's every man for himself. Remember this though; you do not take out your team member; if you can't pass him cleanly and safely, protect him. OK, meeting adjourned. John?"
I waited around, because I knew what Ronnie wanted to talk about.
"John, are you sure you can pull your head out of your ass tomorrow, or should I be looking for another fill-in?"
"Don't worry, Ronnie; it won't fit in my ass with the helmet on-I've already tried."
"OK, buddy, get some sleep."
I went back to the motor coach, and called Patty; she answered, far more coherently than she did the night before.
"Hey, Sweetie," I said.
"Hey yourself; how was the team meeting?"
"Usual stuff; don't fuck your teammate, blah, blah."
"Too late; you've been doing that," she said, laughingly.
"And enjoying every damn minute of it, but that's a little different," I told her. "Patty, I love you, heart and soul."
"I know; I love you, too. Now get some sleep."
The next day was beautiful and hot; not a cloud in the sky, and no breeze to contend with. During driver introductions, every driver held a sign saying "Get Well Soon Patty", except for me; I held a sign that said, "I Love You Patty." The crowd went wild.
When we started the race, I took the lead, with Larry hot after me, having passed the second-place car. He tried passing me a couple of times, but I think he knew I had more left than I was showing. Tracy had worked his way up to sixth by lap 50, and got stuck there. With twenty to go, the third, fourth, and fifth-place cars took each other out, and Tracy miraculously avoided the melee. It took ten caution laps to clean the mess up; when we got the green, with nine to go, we were running single-file, first, second, and third. When we took the white flag, I saw Larry and Tracy making their moves. As we were going down the back-stretch, Larry pulled up alongside me, and Tracy was outside of Larry. We went three-abreast through the last turn, flat-out, and when we crossed the finish line, I had beaten Larry by a tire diameter, and he had beaten Tracy by the same margin. It was the closest one-two-three finish in league history.
After we took our victory lap, I pulled into Victory Lane, while Larry and Tracy went through post-race inspection. I went through the obligatory post-race interviews and photo sessions. Then it was off to the hospital in the chopper. When I walked into the room, Patty was deliriously happy.
"Beautiful race," she said.
"And you expected anything else?" I asked, mockingly.
"At least Paulson behaved himself," she said.
"Yes, he did," I said. "I don't know if he was sandbagging at the end or not, but at least he didn't put any of us in any danger."
"What time in the morning am I heading for Indianapolis?" she asked.
"Whenever the helicopter gets here, but I assume it'll be fairly early. I'm going to spend the night here and go with you."
"Then you'd better call Ronnie and let him know," she said.
"Good idea," I told her. I called Ronnie and told him of my plan to go to Indy with Patty.
"That's fine," he said. "We're off next weekend, so it's as good a time as any. Just keep me informed as to what's going on."
I told him I would. Patty went to sleep after they gave her a pain shot, and I sacked out on the couch in her room. The next thing I knew it was morning, and the helicopter crew was there to pick Patty up. I told the flight nurse that I was going with them, and she said it was a good thing they brought the big chopper. When they loaded Patty, her head was between the flight nurse and me. She raised her good arm, and I held her hand. It was a beautiful flight, one hour and two minutes long. When we landed, they already had a room waiting for Patty.
The crew no more got Patty settled in her room before Dr. Trammell came in. He said he already had her surgery scheduled for the next day, and that it would be a relatively simple procedure. He'd been putting drivers back together for years, and I had the faith of the world in him. I asked him about live-in nursing and therapy staff, and what we would need. He said the therapist was waiting outside, and he'd arrange for nursing care when she got released.
I spoke with the therapist and found out what he'd want in the way of equipment. He recommended a place with an indoor pool, so I started looking for a place to rent. I found a good realtor, and she knew of a nice place for rent that had been on the market for over a year. She took me out, we looked at the place, and it had a huge indoor pool, and an exercise room with every piece of equipment the therapist recommended. I asked her what the selling price was, and she said a million and a half. I rented it on the spot for twenty-five hundred a month. It had plenty of room for staff; in fact, the rent included a chef and housekeeper. There were still four bedrooms, so the therapist and nurses would have space, and the two master suites were mammoth. The house was situated on a private airport; one of those deals where you had a garage out front, and a private aircraft ramp out back.
I went back to the hospital and told Patty what I'd found, and she got pretty excited. Dr. Trammel came back in, and went over everything he was going to do the next day. He was going to pin her ankle, clean out and set her knee, and inject a gel to space the two compressed vertebrae back out. She'd be in the hospital about five days, and then home. Since Patty wasn't allowed anything to eat, I skipped dinner as well. They knocked her out about nine, as surgery was scheduled for seven the next morning. I fell asleep soon after, thanks to a couple of pills the nurse slipped me.
About six the next morning, they came for Patty to get her prepped. I followed her down, and had to wait while they prepped her. When they were done, they let me in. They let her keep her ring, but that was it. After they took her to surgery, I crashed on a couch. Her parents arrived from Detroit shortly after. About two in the afternoon, Dr. Trammell came out and said it went better than he expected, and that she would make a complete recovery.
Luckily, Patty's folks had brought our clothing with them. While Patty was in surgery, I took her parents out to see the house I rented; they thought it was magnificent. It had two master suites, and I showed them theirs, and told them they were welcome to move in anytime. "I know it doesn't measure up to that hotel room you've been staying in, but do you think it'll do?" I asked them, joking.
"Oh, I think we can muddle through with it," Patty's dad said.
After five days, Dr. Trammell felt Patty could come home; I arranged for the nursing staff, and the hospital arranged an ambulance to transport her. When she saw the house, I thought she was going to faint.
"Do we really need this much house, just for the two of us?" she asked.
"Let's see, the two of us, your folks, a chef, housekeeper, nursing staff, and the therapist; that's like ten people, more or less."
"How many nurses do I need?" she asked.
"One per shift. Patty, I can't do bedpans; I'd puke."
"Oh, yeah; I'd forgotten about those things."
"I hope you've got good aim; you're going to be using one for a while."
"Great. Thanks."
I wheeled her through the house in her wheelchair, with her left leg propped up. She took a deep breath when she looked out the patio doors and saw all the airplanes.
"Just where are we, anyway?" she asked.
"We're located on a private airport, where each house has its own aircraft ramp. Once you're able to get in and out of a plane, I'll charter one on race weekends so you can come to the track."
"John, can we afford that?"
"I've got a buddy in the business. I've got a Cessna Citation X at our disposal, no charge."
"Citation X? Isn't that a twin-engine jet?" she asked.
"Hey, the lady knows her aircraft, too." I said, mockingly. "It'll have room for you and your folks, too. Maybe even me, on the return trip. It'll pull right up to the back door, and the pilot will be trained on how to handle your injuries."
Patty started yawning, so I took her to our suite, and lifted her into bed.
"Oh, God, John-this is amazing," she said.
The nurse came in and said, "Miss, it's time for your shot."
Patty said, "I'm not Miss; I'm Patty," she told the nurse.
"Nevertheless, show me your best side," the nurse told her. She harpooned Patty's ass, and within ten minutes, she was asleep again.
So we went, for the next week and a half; the nurses bathed Patty and hovered over her, and the therapist began a light workout program with her. By three weeks, she was feeling up to coming to the track on race weekends; by six weeks, she had good use of her knee, and was ready to try out her wrist. She went back to Dr. Trammell, and he scheduled surgery to remove the pins. It only took an hour and a half, and she was back in the recovery room for a short stay, and then back home. The intensive therapy was paying off; Patty was walking around the house with a cane, and had a brace on her wrist. She pushed herself far beyond the trainer's expectations, and our sex life returned to normal.
Soon, it was time for Indianapolis practice again. She came out to the track on Opening Day with me, walking unassisted. We had long gotten rid of the therapist and nurses; she was doing her therapy on an outpatient basis, and could drive herself when necessary. I saw a tear in her eye when they unloaded her car off the truck; Tracy wouldn't be there for a couple of days yet. She ran her hand over it like a fine piece of furniture.
Leela
- 14.10.2021
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