Car 54
Chapter 25: Reduce Speed - Construction Zone

Copyright© 2005 by dotB

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 25: Reduce Speed - Construction Zone - 'Car 54' is a road trip down memory lane with highs, lows, curves, detours, bumps and potholes. There are sunny days, stormy weather, bucking broncs, stock cars, love, angst, sports, farm life, car racing, arguing, fighting, as well as a near death experience or two. Read the story of a friendly guy and his family as he learns to handle love, life, and a dirt track stock car. Oh, it's not a stroke story, it's a convoluted romance.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Teenagers   Romantic   NonConsensual   Drunk/Drugged   Slow  

Needless to say, the next month was a total wipeout for me. I was so busy, it felt like I needed a twin to help me keep up to the schedule I was trying to maintain. By the first week of August of that year a tremendous amount of work had been done on the ranch.

We now had electricity in the house, the barn and the chicken coop. We had a telephone in the house and had built a tiny office in the barn – it even had an extension line for the phone. Beth and I had done a tremendous amount of work on the fencing further along the creek to keep the cattle from breaking down the creek banks. We’d also started fencing off the swampy lowland area of the valley from the drier grazing land. On top of that we had all the buildings and the garden in tip top shape. Wil, Tom, George, Beth and I had also cut, raked and baled the hay from more than five hundred acres on the dry areas and nearly two hundred acres of the lowland portion of Mile High Ranch.

When it came to animals Beth and I were almost overrun with additions. The sow had raised eight piglets that we had to wean and feed. Actually we sold all but two of them as weaners and planned on feeding those two for the summer, then butchering them in the fall. The broody hen had raised ten chicks from her first batch and Beth had set another hen who raised eight chicks. Since we were only keeping them for eggs at that time, we decided that was enough for that year.

As well, Beth had bought two more mares and a yearling colt, all of them decent quality Quarter Horse stock. I traded my Thoroughbred gelding for a Quarter Horse mare who was in foal and I bought a second mare as well. That meant our horse herd now numbered eight animals and seven of those were mares with at least three of them in foal.

On one trip to the hospital to see Grampa Bender, Dad and I had gotten into a discussion with him about cattle. Somehow he convinced us that we needed to expand the herd. We ended up using some of the ranch funds and arranging to buy several head of Polled Shorthorns with the idea of eventually trading off or selling the Herefords that Grampa Bender had been raising previously. By the time we got those two dozen Shorthorns home, after herding them the twenty miles from the ranch where we’d bought them, Beth had one of her horses as well as the Collie working the cattle like old pros. Even the young mare I’d ridden did darn well.

Because of the number of trips Wil and I were making to Edmonton, Beth and I had decided to buy the old Jeep we’d borrowed from Frank Dolens. That meant Wil and I didn’t have to be away from home at the same time because he could use my car for the trip; Wil’s beater pickup had engine problems and Tom was working on it in his spare time. Since the Jeep was mostly to be used on the ranch, we used ranch funds to buy it. Then I taught Beth how to drive a standard transmission vehicle so she could run either the Jeep or the tractor. She was barely fifteen at the time, but there was no reason she couldn’t drive on the trails and rough roads that ran across our private land.

Of course, the stock car was sitting there all this time, needing a driver. Frank Dolens, Tom and George all gave me a rough time about it every time I saw them, but I refused to drive it in a race while my hand and foot were still in a cast.

We were talking one day and Frank sighed and said; “You know I’m always having someone ask where that stock car I gave you went and I have to go into a long explanation. It’s getting rather tiresome.”

“That’s like that crazy cop show,” George laughed. “You know the one, ‘Car 54, where are you?’ You could always tell them the truth, that we’re all waiting for Chris’s foot to heal.”

I looked at Tom and winked. He grinned at me, then we both turned to Frank.

“Frank, you wanted to put a classy paint job and some ads on the car before we start racing, didn’t you?” I asked. “My casts come off in two weeks, so this might be the time to do it.”

“If I’m going to have the car painted, it needs a number. Have you guys picked one yet, and remember, it has to be a number that isn’t in use at Pine Lake?”

“George just did,” Tom chuckled.

“He did?”

“Unh huh, he used the number 54,” I grinned. “Put that in big letters on both doors and the roof. Just in above the number, but in smaller letters, paint in the word ‘Car’ and below the number paint the word ‘Where’ and the capital letters ‘R’ and ‘U.’ That ought to make it all clear to folks that we’re just there for the fun of it. Since the car and I have never raced before, we don’t know if we can even finish one race, but we plan on trying and having fun while we do it.”

He stared at me for a minute, then he broke into a laugh.

“Damn, that’s a good one,” he chuckled after a minute. “I’ll have one of the boys come out with the trailer and get the car next week.”

The week that I got my casts off, Corinna was moved to a private facility for mental evaluation and the family couldn’t be with her. That meant Carissa came home. It was also the McAdam twins’ birthday and Beth had been invited to spend the weekend with them. Frank’s crew had the stock car all painted and ready to go that weekend, but heavy rain was forecast. Thankfully that meant the race at Pine Lake was cancelled for Sunday. Everything considered, I thought that was wonderful because it meant Carissa and I were home alone.

I don’t think we managed to make up for all the loving that we had missed out on during Corinna’s convalescence, but we certainly tried. Of course I did spend part of the weekend showing Carissa all the work we’d done around the ranch. But, since it rained all day Saturday and most of the day on Sunday, we did spend a lot of our time inside. For some unknown reason we found that the bedroom was the most comfortable room in the cabin during the rainstorms.

Okay, I’ll admit it. That weekend we were preoccupied with sex. We made love before breakfast, before tackling the morning chores, before lunch, before doing the evening chores, after eating our evening meal and before going to sleep at night. By the time Monday morning came we were both slightly tender, but a lot calmer.

The weather had broken by Monday morning and the day dawned bright and clear. After we’d done the chores and come back to the cabin, we noticed it had a rather pervasive odour. In Carissa’s words, ‘It reeked like a cat house on Sunday morning after a busy Saturday night.’ So, since Beth hadn’t come back yet, we decided to open the doors and windows to air it out. While it was airing out, we thought it might be an idea if we cleaned up a bit too. Since that suggested the idea of going for a swim, we made up our minds that we needed to have a picnic. Carissa made up a picnic lunch, and I wrote a note to leave on the screen door for Beth, telling her that we were taking a few hours off.

At about eleven in the morning we headed for the swimming hole. After two days of rain the trails were a mess, but since we were driving the Jeep, we made it to the pond just fine and spread a blanket to eat our lunch. After that we sat and talked as I drowned a worm for while. At least that’s what Carissa claimed I did, because the fish certainly weren’t biting. After an hour or so we did have a swim, then we lay in the sun for a while to dry off and relax.

It was really strange in a way. We had a thousand things to talk about, but I think we were just as happy simply lying next to one another. The previous two days we’d spent as much time as possible having sex, but that day we spent most of our time simply touching each other, as well as hugging and kissing at every opportunity.

It was about three in the afternoon when we packed everything up and headed back to the cabin. We wanted to get most of the chores done early because Mom and Dad wanted us to drop down home to eat with them. Beth wasn’t at the cabin yet, so we did the earlier chores, then had a quick wash, changed our clothes and drove down home.

As we were driving along Carissa commented on all the improvements that had been made to the access road and I told her about the deal with the hydro and phone companies. She chuckled and shook her head, telling me that everyone else fought with the phone company to get service and argued with hydro about the slowness of their installations. It seemed that she’d expected it to take a year or more for us to get electricity and a telephone installed, but we’d managed to get both of them in less than a month. I just grinned and shrugged, telling her to ask Dad what he had done to get them motivated.

When we got to the home farm, Beth and the McAdam twins were sitting on the front steps. Mom and Dad were out on the porch too.

“Hi everyone,” I called as I hopped out of the car. “What’s up?”

“Where have you two been?” Beth jumped up. “I’ve been calling the cabin every half hour since before noon.”

“Well the way the weather was for the last two days, we felt like getting out of the cabin, so we went down and had a swim. Why, what was so important?”

“We were trying to get hold of you to let you know that Frank Dolens wants you to race the car at the Pine Lake track tonight at seven. Tom and George are coming by to pick us girls up in a little while. Dad was just wondering about driving up to see if you two were okay.”

“Oh,” I was rather nonplussed. “What about supper?”

“It’s ready to eat right now,” Mom laughed. “We don’t know what the big deal is, but we think Frank may have set up some sort of advertising thing or perhaps a special race of some sort. I take it that this is a complete surprise to you too, isn’t it?”

“Yep, but track is going to be a mess after all the rain we had.”

“Actually, Wil rode up with Frank earlier today and he says the track is in good condition. It’s a dirt track, but the soil is quite sandy, so it has good drainage. Besides, Charlie Wells, the owner of the place, said they didn’t get that much rain yesterday. It was a lot worse the day before,” Dad explained. “By the way, if you are going up to drive the car, your mom and I would like to come along.”

“Well, what do you think Carissa?” I asked her.

“Oh, come off it,” she laughed at me. “I can see your blood pumping and your adrenaline rising already. Do you think I’d stand in your way to really race that old wreck? Let’s eat and get going.”

Up until she said that, I had been starving hungry. As soon as I realised I might actually be racing in that old dirt track car, my appetite simply disappeared. In fact my stomach tried its best to tie itself into a knot. And that was a real shame, because Mom had cooked fried chicken, new potatoes, fresh peas and corn on the cob from her garden. Everything we were eating had been grown on the farm and I could hardly taste any of it. Suddenly my appetite had gone right out the window and along with it went my bravado about being a good driver. For the first time in my life I was worried about my judgement and about my skill as a driver.

“What’s wrong Chris, you’re not eating much?” Mom asked. “Thinking about the race already?”

“In a way,” I nodded, trying to think of an excuse. “I really don’t think I should eat too much before driving. Because of the rain, the track might get a bit chewed up when we’re racing and if I get shaken around too much, I’d hate to get sick to my stomach or something, especially in front of a crowd of people.”

“I never thought of that. Is the car that bad on a rough track?” One of the McAdam twins asked.

“Hah, you should have seen him the first time he tried out the car,” Carissa laughed. “He got jarred around so much he was green when he got out of the car.”

“I’ll tell you what Chris. I’ll pack a few pieces of chicken, some corn on the cob and a few other things so you can have a snack afterward, how’s that?” Mom suggested.

I just nodded, taking a last bite of chicken from a drumstick, then drinking the last of my glass of milk and going outside to sit in the fresh air on the front porch. I’d hardly sat down when Dad came outside and sat down near me.

“Nerves?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s like getting on a new horse in a horse race, wondering if the horse is going buck, wondering if it’s going to be fast, wondering if you’re going to fall off, that sort of thing,” I managed a weak smile. “It’s times like this that even I worry about thinking too much.”

“I don’t think you’re thinking too much, but you might be thinking about the wrong things,” he sighed deeply and paused for a second, as if to get his thoughts together. “I’ve seen you do things with a car or a truck that I would have thought were completely impossible. So in the first place, don’t worry about your driving ability. Then too, I’ve seen Tom and George pour over that car from end to end. If there was ever anything wrong with it, they’ve found it and they’ve fixed it. So don’t worry about that either. After mechanical things, the next most important parts on that car are the tires. Frank just put new tires on it from front to back and he said he’s taking along four spare tires, already mounted and ready to slap on if you get a flat. So don’t worry about those. I’m sure you can handle any kind of problem with the track surface because I’ve seen some of the roads you’ve driven on. So the only worry left is the other drivers. They’re out to win, but so are you.”

“Yeah, I know all that, Dad. It just isn’t helping much right now,” I shook my head. “Let’s face it. I’ve never driven on a real race track with anyone else trying to race against me. I’ve seen others do it, but I’ve never done it myself. The only thing that’s going to help me feel better is to get into that car and try it. Until then, I’m going to be wound as tight as a ‘G’ string on a banjo.”

Just then I glanced up and Tom pulled into the yard, parking between the Jeep and my car. Tom and George’s car had always looked a lot like mine, both of them were blue with a white top. The main difference had been in the chrome strips and the details. They must have been working on the cars though, because now both of them looked almost identical. In fact both cars looked so good it looked almost like they had been repainted to look identical.

As the two guys hopped out of the car, they had grins on their faces a mile wide. As I watched them, they both whipped out what looked like cops’ hats and put them on their heads. On the front of each hat was a label, it read ‘Car 54’ and it was done in gold on the blue hat. I couldn’t help myself. I broke into laughter at the idea of them wearing those at the race track.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Tom laughed. “Just wait until you see all the stuff Frank has done. We know you aren’t going to be able to drive well tonight, you’re going to be laughing too darn much. He’s gone completely frigging overboard.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, to start with, look at our cars,” Tom pointed. “He started out by matching them up as much as possible and he had the stock car painted the same colours. It’s the same blue with a white top, only it has white doors like a cop car and the number is painted on that. He’s even got a rotating red light that goes on the roof of the car for the practise runs before the race. He wanted to have it there all the time, but the rules prevent that.”

“Jeez, what are the cops going to say about all this crap?” I was still chuckling.

“Hey, where do you think he got the hats and the light and stuff?” George hooted loudly. “The cops helped him find them and some of the local RCMP guys are going to be there tonight, for cripes sake. They think it’s a hoot.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“Nope, I was talking to one of them last night and he was saying that he’d love to get all the guys to race on the track instead of on the road. And you know, I’ve got to agree with him. Just look at what Ray did to this car,” George frowned at me.

“Well that was a little different. Ray’s an idiot and I still think he did that intentionally.”

“Yeah, you’re right there,” Tom agreed with me. “Say how long will it be before we can go? Standing around yammering like this is cutting into your practise and hot lap time.”

“The ladies are getting ready, Tom,” Dad said shortly. “Don’t get your shirt in a knot.”

“Sorry, Uncle Willard. I’m just a bit excited about getting underway.”

“I understand, fellas. I’ll go see if I can get them to hurry,” Dad said as he went inside.

Dad had only been inside for a moment before everyone came out and we were able to get into the cars to go. Once we were in the car and on the way, I realized that the butterflies I’d felt in my stomach before were almost gone. Perhaps it was just that now we were driving toward the track, or else it was the bit of comic relief that the guys had given me, but whatever it was, my confidence was coming back.

If Frank and the guys wanted to go out and have fun, that was fine, I’d join in. But, if I was entered in a race, then fun or not, I darn well intended to do my very best to win.

Mom, Dad, and Carissa rode with me on the trip to Pine Lake, and I think they must have agreed before getting into the car that the race was a verboten subject. They talked about the weather, the ranch, the new electrical installation at the ranch and even about the fact that both Carissa and I would be heading to Calgary in less than a month. They never mentioned cars or racing, not even once.

Of course Carissa was asking a thousand and one questions about what had been going on while she’d been away, so Mom was giving her most of the answers. Dad was being very quiet and I wasn’t very talkative either. Actually, I was apprehensive because I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, so I was doing a lot of thinking and a certain amount of speculation about what Frank was up to and why it was happening at such short notice.

We were less than a mile from the race track when Tom, who had been driving in front of us, pulled over to the side of the road and George hopped out of the car. As I pulled up behind them, he came running over to us. He told me to follow them into the race track and to park beside Tom’s car. Then he put a blue and white banner on my car’s radio antenna. After that he ran back to Tom’s car to put one on his too, before he hopped back in the car and they led away again.

“I wonder what that was about?” Dad asked me.

“More of Frank Dolens’ shenanigan’s I’ll bet,” I shook my head slowly. “The more I think about this, the more I think it all has to be some sort of publicity stunt.”

“What do you mean?” Mom asked.

“Well, he’s painted all the cars to look similar, he’s bought cop style hats and who knows what else. It looks to me like this is some sort of advertising gimmick, but after all he is sponsoring the car, if he can get some advertising out of it he’s going to make it worthwhile.”

“Well, he is doing a lot for you,” Dad chuckled.

“I know, Dad. I just wish I knew what was going on.”

“Well, Uncle Frank does love to surprise people, but we’ll all find out soon. We’re almost there now,” Carissa offered.

She was right, we were almost there. As we turned a last corner and could see past the trees that grew heavily in this area, we could see the gate into the race track. I was surprised when we got there that we were waved right through and then I remembered the banners that George had slipped onto our radio antennas. Glancing ahead and focussing on the one waving above the roof of their car I could see their banner. It was blue with a white circle in the center and inside that was the number 54. I just shook my head and started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Carissa asked me.

“Those banners that George stuck on the car antennas have the number 54 on them,” I laughed. “Frank must have arranged that they were our gate passes. Normally you have to pay at that gate to get into the track.”

“Oh, and the guy at the gate just waved us past.”

“Unh huh.”

Just then we crested one of the knolls on the way to the track and we could see the general parking area. I was surprised to see that there were whole bunch of cars there. We still couldn’t see the track area itself, but we could see the area where most of the trucks and trailers that hauled the cars were parked. Off to one side I could see Frank’s tow truck as well as the trailer that was used to haul the car. Parked nose on to it was our stock car and it looked really good.

When we’d gotten the car it had been obviously put together out of bits and pieces of various junked cars because various parts of the car had been different colours. Now the body was dark blue while the roof and both front doors were white. Even from a distance you could read the number 54 done in navy blue on that white background. Actually it did look almost like a cop car, and as we got closer you could see that there was even a red ‘cherry dome’ sitting on the roof.

I couldn’t help breaking into a grin as I drove up and parked next to Tom and George who nosed in beside car 54. Just as we got stopped, Frank came up to the car and grinned at me.

“Well, what do you think? How does it look to you?” he waved at the stock car.

 
There is more of this chapter...

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.