Scootal00_Type-R - Fast and Anonymous: The 1st One Was Crap

>10 fucking years in the future.

>10 years of taming your love's, Sunset Shimmer's, sex

>10 years of co-owning Platform 4 Motorsports.

>And 4 years of raising your own child. Most entertainment you had ever. Shit everywhere, diapers left and right, and barf on everyone. But you and Sunset eventually broke down and got a damn nanny.

>Her name is Trixie Lulamoon (or the Great and Powerful Trixie as she preferred to be called).

>Her name did seem familiar to you, but never rung a bell. All you cared for is earth-shaking loud cars and for your daughter to be taken care of and entertained during the GT3 and WEC season.

>Oh...

>You forgot to mention that you made it to the World Endurance Challenge. In your first 24 Hours of Le Mans you placed 4th in class. Not bad for an amateur team these days.

>Your team drove for a few manufacturers over the years. BMW, Mercedes AMG, Audi, Porsche. Hell, Ferrari even offered to let you use the 458 Italia in the next Le Mans.

>But enough nostalgia bullshit. Time to fast forward to now. Which is the time that you bed Sunset Shimmer yet again. What was it after now? Ah, you just got done speed running the Acura NSX for Honda. The fucking concept car ran 230 mph. How a V6 was able to do that, you had no clue, and the folks in the lab coats wouldn't give you the precise details on the engine.

>Anyways...

>Back to fucking Sunny. End of Fast 5 style. Rolling down the highway in 'ol Jane, top up with Sunset on top of you fighting the good fight in the Great Tongue War.

>You shift into overdrive and then trail your hand up her thigh and pull up skirt. She breaks off the kiss to moan softly to your touch.

>”Let me help you there Anon.” Sunset pulls down her panties while you pass a random set of cars.

>The smell of minx fills your nostrils as you pull Sunny back in for a kiss. Your foot begins to put pressure on the throttle.

 

>You feel her reach down and unzip your pants, freeing your boner. Your hand slides up her leg, between her cheeks and traces her outer folds and asshole; her moan vibrates throughout your chest.

>You push her off onto the passenger seat to pull your pants and boxers down. When you reach over to help her back on your lap, you see that she was rubbing herself and left a wet spot on the seat.

Getting this excited so soon I see.

>Sunset's cheeks go rosy. ”Oh shush, you know very well that nobody else can handle your hefty self, but me.”

>She takes in all nine inches, her inner walls slowly tightening down on you as she moans deeply with sweet ecstasy. You gotta love 10 years of experience with her. seven of them yoga was involved

You know you have to take control, right?

>”Mhmm,” Sunset manages to stifle out as she begins to grind her hips down on your cock.

>You groan and slowly push down on the accelerator. Sunset hear's the revs climb and speeds up the process.

>”Wanna play a little game, baby?”

>You catch on with what “game” she was implying.

Sure, why not?

>You slowly floor it and let Sunny do the work. Eventually, she's just taking hold of your shoulders and bouncing on your dick. A quick glance between bounces shows that you are at 100 mph. Nothing you can't handle.

>Sunset bites her lip and tries to contain her orgasmic scream as the inner walls of her stradle tighten down and begins the attempt to milk you of cum.

Aww, c'mon, let me hear how much you love it.

>You squeeze her ass cheek and slide two of your fingers into her asshole. Your actions clearly hit the spot as she screams and tosses herself back at the sudden action and loss of control of her orgasm.

>Then the blue lights flash in the rear view mirror.

 

Well then. Looks like we got ourselves into a bit of trouble.

>The most you get from Sunset is a nod, she is tired from a long day at the track and, well, need you say more?

>The most wonderful thought comes to mind. You leave Sunset on your lap and wait for the highway patrol officer.

>15 seconds later he does the usual stand as far away from the driver side window knock. Paranoid fuck.

>You roll down the window with a smirk, trying very hard to keep it from looking smug. You met his cold gaze, which is behind a pair of brass-plated aviators.

Evening officer, how are you doing today.

>”Evening son, did you know what you were just doing.”

Well....a-as you can see...I was doing my wife.

>He continues to stare at you behind his aviators. He licks his bottom lip, you hope that was a tell that indicates that he is now slightly uneasy with situation.

>”Well then...c-carry on; enjoy the rest of your evening.”

>The highway patrolman turns to leave, but stops dead in his tracks.

>ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitoooooooohhhhhhshiiiiiiiiiiit

 

>”Hey...aren't you that new guy in the FIA GT3 series.”

Y-yea...

>”My damn daughter does nothing but talk about you, she showed me what you look like a fucking year ago. I'm surprised that I remember what you look like.”

I would be too.

>The patrolman head back to his car and comes back with a camera, the kind that prints the picture on the spot.

>”Y' mind that I take a picture of you and let you sign it?”

Sure, why not?

>”Uhh...can you step out though?”

Erm....I'm kinda in a fix here, she's like sleeping officer.

>”Well just give the thumbs up or what ever and smile, sir.”

Yea, let me be chill here.

>You roll the window down all the way and rest your forarm on the door. Put on the smirk that you usually put on for the reporters and look at the camera.

>The cop snaps the pic and waves the printed photo in the wind. He walks up to you and hands you a pen and the picture.

Sooo, uhhhh....what's your kid's name?

>”Scootaloo.”

Cute name. Does she have a nickname?

>”From what I heard whenever she brings them over from school, her friends call her 'Chickun' or some shit like that.”

Okie doey then, Scoots it is then....

>You sign “Here's to Scoots” and then your name.

Her you go, officer.

>He tips his patrol hat. Why did you just shudder from that?

>”Get off my highway.”

No problem.

>You floor it and get off on the next exit. Time to get home and see how your daughter is doing.

 

>You pull up to your home. Still the same home since your dad died, just with a bigger plot of land now surrounding it and a bigger garage. You had it lifted from it's foundation and moved like 50 miles from the city, same distance as the Sweet Apple Acres.

>You get Sunset off your dick and fix your self to be more presentable to your daughter, Pixel Shimmer.

>You step up to the door and quietly open it. Trixie is in the living room picking up some toys. She looks up and greets you.

>”Welcome back, Anon. Pixel is in her room watching My Little Doge quietly, Trixie thinks she is about to fall asleep. How was your day with Acura?”

Great, I went stupid fast today. Hey, can you get Sunset out of the car for me and bring her in to our room to rest, please.

>”Nothing that Trixie couldn't handle.”

>You sneak into what was your old room and now your kid's room. A lightly tanned girl with interlagos blue hair with sedonarot red pinstripe-like streaks reminiscent of the red in Sunset's hair back is to you and, as Trixie said, she is zoned out into that damn My Little Doge tv show.

>You take cover behind the corner, peek into the room and whisper “psst.”

>You jerk back behind cover and take out your phone and use the screen camera to see if you caught Pixel's attention. You did. You wait for her to shrug it off and go back to watching MLD.

>You peek back around the corner and shout “Hey” to see if you could really get her attention. When you duck back in, you see a cup hit the wall. Just like you, fuck shit up, ask questions later.

>You jump into the doorway and Pixel realizes it's you. The little girl had a toy samurai sword at the ready.

>”DADDY!!”

Heyyy there, my little Pixie!!

>Pixel runs up to you and jumps into a hug. Nothing makes your day better than hugging your own kid. Pixel looks up at you with jetstream blue eyes, another reminiscent of Sunset, only darker.

 

>”Did you go fast daddy?”

>You smile

Yes, I went 230 today

>”kilmeters?”

No silly, miles.

>You grin at her attempt to say kilometers.

Hey, wanna ride on the lawnmower with daddy tomorrow Pixie?

>She puts on one of those aw-struck moment looks that kid's like to put on.

>”AWW, YES YES YESYESYES!”

Well hurry up and get ready to goto bed sweety, we got a fast day tomorrow.

>She runs into her closet and puts on her pjs, more MLD shit.

 

-------

 

>You in the garden shed putting on your suit niqqa. Shit old school niqqa.

>When you finish putting on your fire-proof driving suit from ages ago, you head back into the kitchen and finish making breakfast. It's one of those days today just before the next race week when you get some relaxation and spend time with the fam and crew.

>It be IHOP up in this bih'. You toss a pancake in the air to flip it and catch in the pan, because you got skills like that. Good thing it's the last pancake, the fucking kitchen looks like a bakery just exploded from the last few pancakes you tried to flip and some other stuff that shouldn't be mentioned. Ok you were rutting Sunset while you mixing up the batter and decided to get a little too dirty.

>”Pixelll! Breakfast is ready!”

>You rub your ear in pain due to Sunset's Hispanic yelling powers and look at her like she was fucking crazy.

Hey...

>You playfully shove Sunny

…be a little bit louder next time.

>”I can't help it and you shouldn't be the one talking. Look at this fucking mess.”

>You dip your hand in a random patch of batter on the wall and try to smear it on her face. She jumps back and starts laughing.

>”Ay coño Anon, stop.” Sunset blocks every attempt of pancake batter in her face with expertise.

>You eventually give up and go wake up Pixel yourself, since you and Sunset's loud asses clearly didn't.

 

-----

 

>You do that slow-mo walk with Pixel to the garden shed, for it is time to mow the lawn. Shit used to be boring 'till you got that tuned lawn mower from Honda Racing. Damn you love having connections.

>You sit in the mower and let Pixel climb onto your lap.

Start her up Pixie.

>You pat her on the helmet. Pixel cranks the mower.

Hold on tight to daddy now.

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe5ldu2jB2E

>Once again, you have to one hand drive. Shouldn't be a problem. Until you hit that bump...

>The lawnmower tips and you jump, tuck Pixel in, land and roll on your back.

>You look up to see it keep going about 50 feet 'till it slows to a stop. You look back down and check if Pixel is still in one piece.

>”That was fun! Let's do it again daddy!”

>You could do nothing but smile at her enthusiasm to do crazy shit.

Well, when daddy put a seat made for you on the back you can ride again, 'til then no.

>”Okay!” She get's up and runs back to the house.

>You pity the dead who can no longer know this joy.

 

Welp, time to get the fuck up.

>You get up and dust your self off and head to the garage.

>You look about your choices to decide what to drive today.

>You spot your old Miata. Poor girl is covered in dust. You run your fingers across the hood, removing streaks of dust from years of not driving the poor thing.

>You open the door and sit in it. The fucking good times you had with this car. You pop open the trunk to reveal the guitar crammed in it.

>You never played guitar much and you have been busy with your new career. You pluck a few strings to get the gist of the tone.

>You re-tune the guitar from age-old muscle memory and hearing.

>You pluck a few strings and head back inside to find your amp that has been collecting as much dust as your Miata.

Set up in the living room and think back real hard what to play. You've got rust, so some surf would suffice. Cue - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7zti4Wxit48

>You eventually quit mid-song. Too much nostalgia for you in one session, considering your mom taught you this song. Funny how you went from beach bum at a young age to a petrol head now.

>You put the guitar down, head into the garage, and climb into your Miata. Time for some real good nostalgia. The kind of shit you can't get tired of.

>Time to crank this puppy up.

>...

>...

>...

Well fuck....

 

>You pop open the hood and check the oil, the shit rotten, good thing you got the resources to change it.

>A quick change and the beast is running yet again. Although, charge has leaked from the main battery supply, so you have to run about with your rotary. Sweet bliss of braps and banshee like screams of your engine.

>You head over to Sweet Apple Acres for the usual before race team meet-up.

>By the time you arrive and walk in through the door you get the text from Twilight telling you not to be late again. Boy, that moment was awkward.

>The whole crew is here.

>AJ is lead mechanic.

>Dash and Flutters handle public relations with Pinks.

>Twilight is the crew chief.

>Rarity is the team designer, not that it was necessary, but somehow, she got the downforce settings right for every track on top of frequent car design changes between races.

>And finally, your co-drivers. Twins from Italy, Cloud Chaser and Flitter.

>Both of them are as smoking hot as they are good on the track. Flitter especially; just the sight of her make you want to bend her over on the spot and fuck her brains out. You have no regrets for these thoughts though, since you had threeway with Trixie and Sunny.

>It was just a joke at first then it kinda escalated quickly. One day you walk in on Trixie toying herself on your couch, boy was she gonna look like she was gonna explode from embarrassment. Poor girl thought that Sunset was gonna throw her out literally when she was attempting to explain herself. You and her was wrong when Sunny assaulted Trixie's cooch with her tongue.

>”Anon. ANON!”

>You snap back to reality when Twilight shouts your name.

Wassup Twi?

>”The next race is the 24 Hours of Le Mans, remember?”

Wait, what?

>You check the WEC schedule.

But that isn't 'till like...five months later.

>”The FIA decided to push the race ahead of time.”

>You groan at this

Greeeeaaat.

 

>”Yea, yea I know. The tickets are already ordered and approved. We are heading to France next week.”

>A sudden thought hits your head.

Wait anniversary of me and Sunny's marriage is next week, wha-

>”Don't worry about it. I ordered tickets for Sunset, Pixel, and Trixie too.” Twilight interrupts.

Well, then...let's make preparations for France. Rarity, what the new design for our machine.

>”Oh, about that. I left it a simple green if you don't mind. I've been feeling unwell lately, and have been getting my rest, I couldn't come up with a design in time.”

That's understandable.

>”Ottimo, io non ho da guidare nel una macchina di corsa apparire ridicolo per una volta.” Cloud Chaser says.

>Flitter gasps and turns to her sister,”Spegnerlo, Nube Inseguitore, i nostri padroni sono intorno a, avere qualche di rispetto.”

>The whole room looks at the two weird, except for you. To be honest you kinda felt the same about the car design at some times.

>Ever since they joined the team, you took the liberty of learning Italian in order to easily communicate with them.

>You catch Flitter shyly glancing at you from over her shoulder. Filthy casual, what is she, a virgin?

>You shake your head once more to get that thought out of your head.

>Twilight breaks up the meeting and you are the last to leave. You had to talk with AJ about the tuning for Circuit de la Sarthe.

>As you head to your Miata you catch sight of Flitter. Alone.

>You walk up to her and tap on her shoulder.

Hey Flitter.

>She jumps and spins around on her heel.

>”Oh, It's you Mister Anon.”

Please Flitter, we are team mates, not executive and errand girl.

>Flitter blushes, “Sorry.”

>You frown

Don't be sorry or worry, I understand that this is your second season and your first 24 race.

>”Oh, I don't worry much about that.”

Cool, now for what I really came to ask you about.

>”Wh-What is that?”

Why were you sneaking glances at me during the meeting, huh? Got a crush on the ole' GT3 Rookie of the Year 2011?

 

>”Uhhhh....”

>You lean in closer and lay the pressure down on her mentally.”

>”....Uhhhhh...”

>Closer...

>”Hmmmm...”

>Your forehead makes contact with her's as you continue to eyeball her.

>”...yes!”

What?

>”no”

Huh?

>Flitter is panicking at this point and has jumped back to recover personal space. “Eh, MAYBE!”

….I'll take that as a yes....I guess...

>>”Flitter! Let's go! We are gonna miss the party at Pinkie's!”

Why don't you get going. I got to be home anyways.

>”Eh, sure...bye Anon.”

>You head back to your Miata and kick up various amounts of drive way dirt because #HOONING.

>It's fucking dark, your tired and you happen to hate driving at night the most. So you blow the speed limit.

 

-----

 

>One week later

>Wake up on the plane on the way to France next to Sunset Shimmer.

>The “buckle up” light isn't on so you go see if Twilight is up too.

>She is making calls and working on her laptop. You wait 'till she is done with her call.

Yo Twilight, did both my personal car and the SLS make it?

>”Yes, that was what my last call was about, the carrier company has landed in France and has already loaded our SLS AMG GT3 onto the our semi. As you wanted your surprise car selected from your personal garage is waiting for you in the airport parking garage.”

Sweet. Thanks for getting my ride set up.

>You pat Twilight's shoulder. The captain of the flight cuts on the intercom.

>”Good morning, Platform 4 Motorsports, we are currently nearing Charles de Gaulle International Airport at Paris. The estimated remaining flight time is 30 minutes.”

>You get back to your seat and wake up Sunset and tell her that you are near Paris and to get ready to land.

>Now to nap for the next 30 minutes.

 

>30 minutes later.

>You are heading to the airport's garage with Sunset, Pixel, and Trixie. Time to see what car Twilight decided to have delivered here.

>You hand the steward the ticket for picking up the car. He goes into the garage to get the car. Moment of truth.

>The garage opens and you hear the rumble of an American V8. A certain V8...sounds like...a 426 Hemi.

Awwww yish.

>The steward pull out of the port in a Petty parts blue Plymouth Superbird. God you love street legal racecars.

>You open the trunk and put everyone's luggage in as they climb in. Once done, you hop into the driver's seat. There is a signed picture of you and “The King,” Richard Petty. Your fucking luck that you got to meet the old coot in person, especially when you don't really race in America much.

>You pop in the CD that contains The Trashmen's Surfin' Bird album. Start off with this of course https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Gc4QTqslN4

>You go with a burn out and drift out into the road. You try not to spin out on the seisure part, you have a tendency to do that back home.

>You stop drifting, but you still break loose around curves and turns, so you pull over and adjust the wing. Hopefully the shit stops, but it doesn't. Hopefully the French know how to watch the road for big American cars.

>You get on the French highway and make your way to Le Mans, where the hotel the team is staying at.

> You get to Mercure Le Mans Centre a few hours later. A cool place to chill at before the race at France. You let the valet take the luggage to your rooms and guide Sunset, Pixel, and Trixie to them while you try and park the land yacht of a muscle car you have as the random pedestrians stare and take photos.

>You finally squeeze the damn thing between a Smart car and a Skoda Yeti and head to the hotel room. You need rest for the coming days.

 

-----

 

>Race day.

>You are on the shitter, you know....taking a shit....

>You get up and do the usual cleaning procedures and head back out to see Cloud Chaser head out on her stint. You and the team are 14 hours into your stint. Trixie's back at the hotel with Sunny helping her take care of Pixel while they both watch the race from the hotel. They will be back here in the last two hours of the race to enjoy the fair with you while, as planned, Flitter runs the final stint. Simple enough.

>The SLS pulls up to the pit and the crew run out to tend to the car and prep it for Cloud Chaser. Flitter gets outs and she's a shaking mess when she runs back into the pit as practiced. You run up to her.

Whoa, whoa there...you okay Flitter?

>”Not really, it's really fucking scary to drive at night.” Flitter chuckles.

Yea...that's why the LMPs are equipped with flashers, so you don't shit yourself in the car when they zip by you.

>You escort her to main room where there's an LCD with a live timing monitor and a sky view of the race. You hear the SLS scream out of the pits.

>You help Flitter take her helmet off while she gets the top half of her driving suit off. When the smell hits you, you know that it's not the smell of sweat and race exhaust...it's the smell...the smell of minx...

>After you set Flitter's helmet down you notice that she is blushing. Time to mess with somebody.

>You sit down next to Flitter and pat her upper thigh and give it a squeeze.

How does that throttle leg of yours feel, Flitter?

>”Sore and sleepy.” Flitter replies after she jumps at the squeeze.

You know....

>You begin rubbing and massaging her thigh.

In my first 24 Hours of Le Mans...

 

>Flitter whimpers as you continue to massage her thigh.

I was told to massage my thigh to get it feel less sore after a stint.

>She begins moaning as you get to massaging her inner thigh. You feel a bit a warmth near her crotch. Just as you sense that she is about to cum, you stop and head back to the pits to check on how things are going.

>Fucking. Putty. In. Your. Hands.

>You run on over to the data box across the pit road to see how Twilight's holding up. You see her reach next to her for a coffee. So far, she looks like she is holding up well. The first time you guys done the 24 Hours of Le Mans, she broke down and went crazy on the radio. Rarity and the others had to drag her into the main room so she could get some sleep.

Hey Twilight, how's the car holding up?

>”It's holding up fine for now; there's the occasional excessive stress on the suspension, but it only happens when we are rolling down the Mulsanne.”

Great, any idea on how many more laps we got before we pit for regular service?

>”Five more laps down the line. Just for fuel; the tires are gonna last 15 more laps.”

>You check to see what position in your class you are in. Second place, this might just be your first win at Le Mans if there are no mechanical issues later.

 

-----

 

>Five hours later

>Last hour of your stint. You are already starting to feel it. After this, you need sleep while Flitter and Cloud chaser runs their stints.

>The whole track is under yellow flag because some poor driver by the name of Wild Fire caught air and flipped in her LMP; now you got to wait for a mess to get cleaned up.

>After four laps of waiting. The yellow flag is lifted and the show goes on.

>You floor it and let the pure thunder of the 6.2-liter V8 clap on the track. You roll through the Porsche curves in 3rd gear, in chase of the Porsche 911 RSR in front.

>The rear tire hits the outside curb and you lose pace on the Porsche. You're beginning the feel the stress of La Sarthe.

>You eventually catch back up to it's tail on the Mulsanne, you put the stress on the driver in front of you by riding on his or her ass in every corner.

>Then you get a face full of smoke....

FUCK!!

>”Yea, I say that too Anon. My best guess is that his engine went boom.”

Yea, and parts blew all under the SLS and blew two of the tires.

>”I see that...just ease her back on over to the pits your are near the Porsche curves anyways.”

>The emergency pit stop to check for damage and replace the tires made you lose three positions in your class, leaving you in 6th now.

This is gonna be a long night....

 

>Last five minutes of your stint.

>Your whole stint was nothing but a loud living hell. All that hard work that you and your team put down. Gone, and you had to catch up a whole fucking lot to get back up to pace. Even though you put down some hard, balls-out pacing in last three hours, it only got you and the team back up to 4th.

>You finish flowing through the Porsche curves and the Maison Blanche and run through the pits to switch out with Flitter. You hope that she and Cloud Chaser could bring the team up to 3rd or 2nd position, fuck taking the win in your class, you just want a fucking podium now.

>You stop right in your pit box and let the crew open the car for you as you get out of the harness.

>One.

>You get the fuck out.

>Two.

>Three.

>You run into the garage as Flitter runs out with her bucket seat fitting in hand.

>Four.

>Five.

>The bucket seat is in and Flitter is putting on the harness as the gullwing door is closed for her.

>Six.

>The SLS revs and speed out of the pit box to get back into pit lane speed as fast as possible.

>You take off your helmet and exhale. You need a fucking stress reliever. But you are on camera at all times pretty much and you can't do much or you'll hear it from the FIA.

>You feel a hand on your should and shake you. You turn and see Flitter.

Wait a fucking minute.

>You are getting ready to boil over on Flitter, yet you contain yourself.

>You turn her around and push her back into the main room and close the door and lock it.

What the hell are you doing here?!?

>”Whoops, cover blown.” Flitter smiles and shrugs sheepishly.

 

Cover!!! blown!!!

>You hiss at Flitter through your teeth.

First the e-pit, now this!?! Now tell me wha-

>Flitter silences you with a kiss.

>Holy fuck, what a surprise.

>The kiss just happens to take away all of your anger and stress in just five seconds.

>Flitter gently pushes you onto the couch. “Well first things first,” she crawls on top of you,”Cloud Chaser saw that I needed more rest and since we're twins...” Flitter unzips her suit, “who could tell the difference?” Flitter coos.

>”Here,” she unzips your suit, “let me get that for you.”

>God damn, your mind is telling you “no,” but your body is starting to say “yes.” You haven't had fresh young pussy since, well....since you were young, even though you're like...29.

>She finishes unzipping the top half of your suit and goes back to taking off hers completely.

>All that is left to see on her is her undershirt and panties. The lacy patterns display a bunch of dragonflies flying about.

Cute panties you got there.

>Flitter blushes a bit and takes off her undershirt to reveal...bandages?

>Figures, she drives for a living, but her bosomy gets in the way. You could only question if Cloud Chaser does the same.

>Now for the moment of truth.

>She reaches for the knot on the side and undoes it. The bandages fall to her waist and you watch with the attention span of a gold fish.

>You look up and see a nice pair of at least D cups.

>You finally snap out of “I don't want this mode.”

Motherfuck this.

 

>You sit up and flip her under you at such speeds that she squeals at a pitch that you could barely hear.

>The two of you stare at each other. You don't know what she is thinking, but you are still thinking whether you should go on with this or not. It just doesn't feel right; quintessentially cheating on your wife.

>”It's okay...” gasps Flitter, “I asked her already.”

W-what?

>Suddenly digital tape recorder.

>She hits play, you hear Sunset and Flitter conversing.

>”So Sunset....”

>>”Yes Flitter?”

>”I have to ask you....a very personal question.”

>>”What is it?”

>”May I....have sex with your husband?”

>>”Sure.”

>”Wait...excuse me?”

>>”Go ahead, have sex with him and make it good.”

>”Make it good?”

>>”Yes, good as in...it revives his spirit.”

>”Revive his spirit?'

>>”Ugh, AS IN HE FUCKS ME BETTER! Clear?”

>”Clear.”

>>”Let me tell you about the time that some dude dropped acid in m-”

>The recording ends. Flitter is looking off to the side, face red as a tomato.

>”Well...”

Let me start this off for you, Flitter.

>You lean forward and plant a kiss on her belly button and then proceed to rim it with your tongue.

>A quick glance up give you the view of Flitter being redder than your Miata back home.

>Your tongue begins to slowly trace down to her snatch. So slow, a fucking snail would get there first.

>Another glance up gives you the sight of her getting impatient, biting her nail and all.

>Why not fuck with her more? You stop just inches, no, centimeters above her.

 

>”GOD DAMMIT!”

>You suddenly feel her push your head down into her twat and the lower half of your face get coated in her juices.

>”It'd be nice if you didn't mess with me like that now.”

When ever did I do that?

>You wrap her around your head and proceed to the primary objective of playing cave explorer with your tongue.

>You first inspect the outside of the entrance to the cave, once it passed you begin to explore.

>Gently stroking up stopping directly under the clit.

>When you feel that it has revealed itself, you begin to worship it with your tongue.

>The musical moans that Flitter is making is sweet bliss to your ears.

>You nip it and enter her tailpipe with your tongue.

>Time for and emissions check.

>Flavor.....check.

>Tightness......check.

>Texture......check.

>Fluid levels........check.

>Flitter takes grip of your hair and tightly wraps her legs around your head.

>Her inner walls tighten on your inspection device. A definite pass.

>Suddenly a kick to the head....and now she is on top of you, pulling down the lower half of your driving suit.

Huh.....forgot I had that on....

>You feel a draft down stairs. A clear indication that she has gotten to your stick shift.

>She licks up from the base of it to the tip, enticing a moan from you.

>She aims herself over you. Jesus, she is staring into your eye with extreme intent and purpose; kinda creepy.

 

>Slowly.

>You can feel the heat emanating from her snatch.

>Slowwwwwlyyyy.

>The tip just prods her.

>Your impatience takes over and you grab her by the hips.

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mr0CRLqx5xs

>You ram that shit in there like a Pontiac Firebird Trans Am's WS.6 ram air intake rams in air.

>Tight fit, but you don't really care, you are on the pursuit of happiness right now.

>Flitter's moans of bliss and sweet ecstasy eventually drown out the sounds Flat 6s, V8s, and V12s; something once thought impossible by sound engineers.

>This fuels the man.

>Eventually the sounds of her ass cheeks coming into contact with your waist become audible smacks.

>Here it comes.

>Flitter beats you to cumming and attempts to milk you dry.

>Nope.avi

>She death grips the couch and then spasm and moan wildly.

>”Not done yet...” huffs Flitter.

Neither am I...

>You push her off your dick and put it in her throttle body with intent to finish.

>She starts off slowly, but surely the head gets better. Her tongue movements while sucking it down entices a few moans from you here and there.

>You notice that she is trying to deep throat you, but couldn't find the strength or mentality for it.

>You immediately give her a hand...by taking your hand, grabbing the back of her head, and pushing down on her.

>She struggles to fight your grip for the first few second, but strength and experience out weigh her attempts.

>You feel it coming up at the base.

>You're gonna need both hands for this, you can feel it.

>You take hold and make sure she gags on it when you release.

>Surprisingly enough she takes it like a champ but was shocked at first. Hardly any gagging.

>You let go and let her swallow and go back to normal business and acting like nothing happened.

>You put back on your driving suit and lay back on the couch to sleep, while Flitter does the same, but heads to the washroom to clean up.

 

>Last few minutes of your stint.

>Almost time to relax with the fam.

>Pass under the Payes de la Loire bridge and brake to enter Tetre Rouge.

>Even though you had sex with Flitter after your last stint, you still are a bit frustrated at how this race was going.

>The team is back at 3rd, but 1st is still a dream at this rate unless both of the cars ahead in your class have mechanical issues.

>You curve into the L'Arche Chicane at 70MPH and blast out into the Mulsanne Straight.

>You make a pass around a GTE Am car and enter the La Florandiere Chicane at 50.

>”Alright Anon, pit her, it's that time. Enjoy the park and tell the kid we said 'Hi.'”

>Break hard into the Mulsanne corner, now to make the journey to the Indianapolis.

>Ahead an Audi R18 catches a little too much grass and spins.

>You break hard and avoid the spinning LMP1. A Porsche behind you is unfortunate enough to be caught by the Audi and there is a large cloud of carbon fibre and sheet metal behind you.

>You put all you focus and stength into tapping the brake, turning into the Indianapolis, and finally braking hard to enter the corner.

>Blast out full force for approximately two seconds, before you brake for Arnage. Possibly the most difficult corner on La Sarthe.

>Downshit to 1st gear and turn wide into the corner.

>Now to run down to the Porsche Curves.

> A C7-R Corvette is hawking down on you. The signal light to pit clicks on.

>He's looking to take you from the inside, that will never happen.

>You hold on to the driving line with intent.

>Down through Maison Blanche, he is trying to overtake.

Well, I wish I could continue to battle it out with you, mate.

>You put the pit road flashers on and enter the pit road.

 

>You are walking through the field of people to the entrance to the fair grounds.

>You are supposed to meet Sunset, Pixel, and Trixie at the ferris wheel.

>You get there and see Trixie...alone, sitting on a bench, looking downward.

Hey Trixie, where's Sunset and Pixel.

>”Trixie has some bad news for you, Anon.”

What is it? Did they get sick or something?

>”Worse...” she looks up, you see bruises and scars on her face.

>Aw shit. This is not good.

>You look around to see if you are being punk'd first.

What the fuck happened, Trixie?

>”We...were just coming up from the taxi...and...” Trixie begins to sob.

>”...they held up at gun point and kidnapped Mrs. Shimmer and Pixel. They proceeded to force Trixie to receive bukkake, otherwise, Trixie wouldn't be here to give you these news.”

Sheeeeeeeeit. Did they tell you anything else.

>”Unfortunately, no.”

>You seethe with anger; One, your wife and kid just fot kidnapped. Two, someone bukkake'd Trixie before you did. Three, you could've had more fun with that Corvette pilot.

C'mon Trixie, lets get back to the track where we could find out more.

>You pull out your phone and call Twilight.

>Two rings later she picks up. The sound of cars zipping by the line almost drowns out her “hello.”

We've got a problem...

>”What is it Anon?”

I'll tell you when I get back to the garage. Tell the team to met up there, stay in the monitoring box and hard wire yourself and Cloud Chaser to the meeting.

>”Alright.”

 

>”WHAT!?!” exclaims Rainbow Dash.

No lie, Trixie can confirm it for you with the bruises and her side of the story.

>”Ah don't. Ah' can smell th' cock in her breath.” AJ butts in.

>”We've got a race to finish though, guys...” Twilight's voice cuts in through the radio.

>”That's true, what Twilight say's Anon.” Cloud Chaser interjects over the radio. “Right now, I'm hawking down on second position....overtaking right now at Indianapolis.”

Twilight, what's the gap between Cloud Chaser and first position?

>”15.437 seconds.” cracks in Twilight.

>”How much do we have left?” asks Rarity.

>”3 hours and 28 minutes.” replies Twilight.

Well then...three and a half hours to save Sunset and Pixel, and get back....sounds fun.

>”Sounds fun? SOUNDS FUN!?!” Rainbow Dash yells. “PRACTICALLY NONE OF US CAN LEAVE THIS DAMN RACE TRACK!!”

Well, you are partially wrong on that. You and Pinkie can leave the track freely, the both of you are only PRs for the team.

>”Didn't Trixie say that these men were armed?” Pinkie chimes in.

Yea.

>Pinkie practically pulls out a box containing three handguns and enough ammo to supply an army platoon.

>”Jesus Christ Pinkie! Where did you get these.” Rainbow says as she picks up a one and gets a feel for its weight.

>”It's a secret!” Pinkie smiles.

Well...

>You load and chamber the gun in your hand.

Let's go get our family back.

>”Alright then! Let me slip into my comfy shoes first though.” Rainbow says heartily.