CHECKERED FLAGS GET ME LAID.

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CHECKERED FLAGS GET ME LAID.

At the end of the 200th lap of the 1973 Oswego Fall Classic NASCAR modified race the checkered flag waved over my #2 big block powered Vega. Probably 10,000 of the 15,000 people in the stands were cheering for me. The rest either did not like me or just were hoping that their favorite driver would win. Another race win was in the books with my name on it. That was my sixth win of the season at four different tracks on the Northeast tour schedule. It was a good thing the race had ended that lap as I could feel that one of my 18-inch rear wide slicks was starting to go flat and would not have lasted a couple more laps. Waiting for me in the front stretch winner's circle would be a trophy, a check for $10,000 and a kiss from the trophy girl.

As I climbed out of my car, my crew of two ran up and celebrated with me, and the announcer came over and asked the usual questions that they ask the winner on the PA system. I answered his questions and got in some plugs for my sponsors. I was given the trophy and oversized check by the promoter. The trophy girl gave me a kiss. It was more than a peck and I felt her tongue slid into my mouth. This week's trophy girl at that track was a local nineteen year old beauty queen. She was dressed in her contest gown, crown and sash showing that she was Miss. Western New York Fall Festival. I whispered in her ear to come to my car in the pits in about twenty minutes.

My name is Paul. When this evening happened I was 26 and trying to make a living as a stock car driver. I had one sponsor that paid most of my cost to travel and maintain my car and a couple of other smaller ones that about paid my tire bill, entry fees and gas. In effect my purse money was mine although I did give the crew members part of it when I did well, to augment the salary that I was able to pay them from sponsor money. I had started by racing in mini stocks and street stocks several years ago. My goal was to make it up to a Winston Cup ride on the big circuit. My favorite cup driver that year, and every year, was David Pearson who was driving the #21 Purolator sponsored Mercury for the Wood Brothers. I was single, 6'0", 168# and had a hefty 7" of manhood. I was told that I was attractive and among those who knew, I had a reputation for liking the girls and being able to last in bed for more than enough time to make them happy.

Twenty minutes later, we had finished putting the car in the trailer and I had changed from my driver's suit to jeans and a tee shirt and cleaned up when she rapidly walked up to me. She was still dressed the same. She gave me a big hug around the neck. "I was hoping you would win. I always hope you win." "Would you like to go someplace more private," I asked her and she nodded her head yes. "What's your name?" "Terry." I took her hand and led her up the stairs to the now empty announcers booth. As we entered I locked the door behind us, spun her around and gave her a deep lingering kiss.

Her ankle length white dress was sleeveless with straps over the shoulders. I slid the straps over her shoulders and pulled her top down, exposing her perky B-cup tits. Promptly I started to lick and chew on her nipples, which were already erect an hard, while squeezing her tits with both hands. Terry tipped her head back and moaned with pleasure. After several minutes I stopped and unbuckled my jeans. Terry eagerly watched. With just a little push, my jeans and shorts fell to the floor and I stepped out of them. My hard seven inches sprung out and pointed at its intended target.

Terry promptly dropped to her knees and sucked my cock into her mouth. This young girl knew how to suck cock. She took much of my shaft but not all the way into her throat. Sucking hard and rapidly bobbing up and down on it while playing with my balls, she licked the bottom side of my cockhead each time it came up to her lips. She gave me spectacular oral attention for about five minutes while I reached down and played with her boobs, rolling her nipples between my fingers and bouncing them up and down. Finally I told her to stand up and turn around.

When she did, I pushed Terry's shoulders forward so she was bent at the waist with her arms on the control counter looking out at the track. I pulled the bottom of her dress up to her waist and with my teeth I pulled her panties down and kissed and licked her butt cheeks as her panties fell to the floor and she stepped out of them. I spread her legs and stepped up close behind her. When I reached my hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy, her smooth, freshly shaved cunt was soaking wet. I slid my cock between her pussy lips and rubbed her clit with it. She twitched and moaned. "Put it in me, Paul. Fuck me good. I want you in me." With just one shove I slowly pushed my full seven inches into her hot, wet, tight love tunnel. I was balls deep in Terry and I held it there, still for several seconds. "Fuck yes, that feels so good. Fuck me Paul." I started pumping Terry's cunt, slow at first then faster and harder. For the next fifteen minutes I slammed my meat into her. She had several orgasms, each one harder and louder than the one before it.

Terry was a very vocal and loud fuck. "Oh yes, god yes, fuck me with that wonderful cock Paul. Fuck me hard. Give it to me. Yesss." When she wasn't making these encouraging statements she was constantly moaning. Neither of realized that much of the time she was accidentally pushing the mic button by leaning on it, and our fuck session was being broadcast to the few people that were still in the pits or working around the track. Nobody stopped us but everyone left was listening intently. I was finally ready to blow my load. "I'm gonna come. Where do you want it?" "In my mouth. Come in my mouth." I pulled out and Terry spun around and dropped to her knees getting me in her mouth as quickly as she could. About a minute more of sucking and I filled her mouth with several big ropes of hot, thick salty cum. She swallowed as fast as she could but some of it still ran down out of the corners of her mouth and dangled from her chin. I pulled out and she scooped up what was dripping off her chin and sucked it from her fingers. "That was so wonderful. You are the best, just like I had heard. Thank you. You can fuck me any time you want to. I'll give you my phone number." I pulled my jeans up and tucked my well-used manhood back in. I put her phone number in my pocket to later put it with the other numbers I had for women at other towns with tracks.

As we walked down the steps, everyone was looking our way and many of them were clapping or cheering. We didn't know why.





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