Tempestuous Thoughts

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Summary: Indulgence is a sin but he just can’t help himself.

AUTHOR: Zippit
EMAIL: zippit@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R
CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon/Dale Earnhardt Jr., Jeff POV
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #45 - Argos
COMPLETED: June 2, 2007
WORD COUNT: 1,025
DISCLAIMER: Not real; don’t know them, don’t claim to know them. Only the makings of my imagination. I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Defintion used was “shimmering” as defined in wikipedia. Breaking out a new muse for this. Hope he doesn’t sound like my others.
AUTHOR'S NOTE2: ~*~*~ denotes flashback.
AUTHOR'S NOTE3: Both the “boy” i.e. Dale Jr and the viewpoint character, Jeff, are in their 20s. They first met in their early 20s and this is set when they’re both in their late 20s.
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He’s so pale, that boy of Earnhardt’s. Even in the heat of summer, he’ll still be so pale. I can see him burning instead of tanning. That pale Irish skin, he even has fickle traces of red in his hair under bleached blonde. Pale, pale skin revealed to the sun--I see it so clearly--the line of cloth drawn up and over his head and the flex of muscle as he moves. So vivid, so clear, as he turns and gives that sweet southern boy smile. A private show meant just for me, my hand wanders and I stroke myself. Soft moan escapes my lips, he is sweet temptation. So close I could reach out and steal him from the welcoming embrace of the pool.

And there’s the problem.

I shouldn’t. Open my eyes to the familiar interior of my coach, his name on my lips, and my release on my skin. I could smell the chlorine, almost feel his breath faint against my skin... The irony? I have seen it, I was even invited. Came to see his father and there cavorting across the street, you could hear the whoops and hollers.

~*~*~

I blasted the horn twice, chuckling as I did so. Out through the iron gate, half naked and dripping he came. Leaned against the wrought iron with casual grace and called, “Gonna come join us?” Earnhardt grin full of mischief and in that instant he’s his father’s son. How I wanted to accept his offer, dive into that pool, and act like a fool. But a meeting with his father called and the desire leaving me half hard were the reasons I couldn’t.

Roll down the window and responded, “Maybe another time. Have fun for me!”

He grinned, “Oh we will,” turns and strolls back behind the iron. Swagger in his walk marking him an Earnhardt; confident and sure, master of his domain. Strip him of that cool and what remains?

I watched that ass, perfect in all my imaginings, until out of sight. Sighed and pulled into a parking spot, securing the car and rolling the window up before strolling inside for a meeting with his dad.

~*~*~

To this day he tempts me like nothing else. Years have gone by since his father introduced us and I’ve stood by as he’s grown into the determined racer of today. You can see hallmarks of his father in the way that he races. He’s not his father but he’s definitely his father’s son.

He’s the reason I haven’t made a move in all these years. I respect Dale too much to even consider touching his boy. He would literally skin me alive and I don’t even know if June swings that way. Chuckle as I sprawl back against my bed and wiggle out of the firesuit bunched around my waist. God, that boy…. From the rumors I’ve heard, I wouldn’t have too hard of a time convincing him to try “new” things with me.

“Mmm,” I moan softly as a grin spreads across my face; the things I’d do to him, the countless times I’d have him screaming my name. I can’t touch him but I can sure as hell imagine what it’d be like. Groan and shift against the sheets, already a low throb has started in my groin once more. I really should stop thinking about him so much. But I…can’t.

He’s dream and fantasy rolled into one. Living, breathing, reality, and he’s let me into that tight circle he has wound around him. Friend and confidante, he comes to me for advice when he can’t go to the man he idolizes.

His father is a hard man; driven and a proven legend in his own right. Junior had it rough, rougher than was necessary, but that’s how Dale is. He raised Junior right. Humble beyond belief with his pedigree but there’s that blazing inferno under the surface if you could just get to it.

Writhe against the sheets and their cool artificialness does nothing to ease the need inside me. Rise from the bed and walk down the short hall to the bathroom, I need a cold--no--a warm shower is what I need. I envision haunting blue eyes and a smirk that would tempt even the gods. That mouth around me… groan and hastily reach into the spray to see if the water is warm yet.

Push damp boxers off my hips and kick them to the side. I shouldn’t let him do this to me. I shouldn’t let myself think of him. So many reasons why I shouldn’t and none of them are strong enough to stop my thoughts, actions yes. Junior is a rebel and it’s no real surprise he causes my thoughts to do the very thing he does every day by merely being himself.

Steam billows from the shower and it’s time to take care of this need for the night. My hand is a poor substitute for the sweetness of Junior himself, but it’s all I have. I try not to indulge in these fantasies too often. I’m afraid they’ll lessen the pleasure if I overdo it. But that’s the thing about treats like these; each one keeps you coming back for more.

Step into the shower and draw the curtain closed, enveloped in white mist, I inhale deeply and sink into my latest favorite; that pale body of his spread out on the hood of his car as I claim him from behind. Groan as I run the rough pad of my thumb over the head of my cock. Next, I’d have him against everything I could throw him across in that shop his daddy built. Sacrilege, but would I care?

Not for a moment. Not with that body writhing under me and screaming my name. A shudder runs through me and I brace myself against the now warm tiles, the warm mist surrounds me in a dreamlike haze. It fills the small bathroom and if I close my eyes I can pretend the true reality is the visions I see behind my eyes.

How I wish they were true….

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Zippit - zippit@cryptoffic.com