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....it’s better than candy.” Wow, better than candy, I thought to myself. However, the show did finally come to an end and many a disappointed male left the gallery with neither a painting nor a phone number. The whole thing drove me nuts. You suggested we go out to dinner and we walked to a little place down the street. It was getting late so town was quite and it was easy to get a table in the nearly empty cafe. It was very nice. Dim light, very small booths and long table cloths. All through dinner you kept teasing me. Undoing my zipper, sliding your hand in and stroking my cock. By the time dessert arrived I was certain the front of my pants would have an enormous wet spot. I tried to conceal my hard-on as we left, more thankful than ever for the dim lighting. We walked along the sidewalk heading towards the car, looking into windows. “So, was that my surprise, cock teasing me through dinner?” You didn’t respond. Instead, you suddenly pulled me into a small alleyway and backed. I shook my head as I backed out and headed for the track. If I put that monster in my car, it would shake it to pieces in one night. ***** The track was tackier than I expected as I tried to spin the rear wheels to warm them up. The owner had started watering the track around three and then ran a sheep’s foot over the wet surface to work the water down into the clay. He did this layer after layer until dark and then he ran a roller over the surface to smooth and seal it. He would do it again on Friday night and Saturday morning. By the time we raced Saturday night, the track would be in perfect shape. With a deep breath, I ran a few slow warm up laps and then I ran two laps at about three quarter throttle to see how everything was going to work. Satisfied with the way the car reacted and felt, I dropped the hammer as I came off turn four. Without the horsepower of the higher dollar cars, I ran a higher line, which kept my speed up. It also put me above the normal groove and on.
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