View my GuestbookAugust 2000
The August rain made it’s annual return with the Nascar circuit upon the tiny village of Watkins Glen. Mist rose and clung like a shroud along the valleys, wooded hillsides and the numerous grape vineyards along the narrow shores of Seneca Lake. Cool and damp, even for this time of year; but strangely not depressing. A festival atmosphere persevered as banners flapped in the light lake breeze welcoming the visiting racers and their multitude of fans. Mennonite farmers came from as far away as Penn Yan to hawk their produce at the local market in the square, peddling everything from grape pie to hand-crafted shaker furniture. The farmer’s horse-drawn buggies mixed with exotic, luxury sport cars and pickup trucks festooned with their owner’s favorite driver’s numbers.
All came anticipating racing but thanks in part to Mother Nature, there was no racing on the hillside track. No final practice today-it had been postponed indefinitely after a few furtive attempts. After enough competitors had managed to park their chargers buried to the hubs in the sand traps, the officials finally decided to call it a day, hoping that the clouds would lift on Sunday long enough to get the race in. This left many a driver in search of diversions and the company of either family or comrade. Such was the case outside of Dale Earnhardt’s garage as his driver sat on a toolbox, quietly observing the mechanics working on the black and gold #1 Monte Carlo. Sleepy blue eyes stared in detached interest as if undecided as to whether he should assist his crew or simply take a nap.
Steve contemplated the half-eaten apple he held. So much to think about yet all he wanted to do at the moment was enjoy a rare moment of inertia. Do nothing. No autographs. No photos or interviews. No Dale talking his ear off about tomorrow’s race. He rested his strong, square chin on the palm of his hand, posing as a racer’s version of “The Thinker” on his perch outside the garage. The sun slowly tried to break through the murk, briefly warming his shoulders...ahhh! how good it felt! On this day, Steve Park was at the top of his game-successful and popular and completely content with the world.
Well sort of. There was one thing missing from this picture of contentment. There was no one to share his life with. No girlfriend or wife-his hectic schedule could not support that sort of commitment at the moment. Not that he didn’t try-he did. Not happy with the typical one-night stand so common with the young, hot bachelors-he wanted something deep, something real. He was the desire of many a doe-eyed admirer but those encounters never satisfied him. In the end, it always seemed to boil down to himself alone with his dog, or his good friend-
“Michael!” he yelled, startled at the sudden slurpy crunch of his apple. He never heard the big driver for Ultra Motorsports sneak up behind him. He watched in amusement as the rest of the apple, sans core was quickly gobbled up. “Doggone it-don’t Buffy ever feed you??” he laughed.
Burping lightly and scooting beside him on the tool box, Michael shook his shaggy head of curly brown hair. Bright blue eyes twinkled and he flashed a brilliant smile that made Steve forget about the overcast skies. “Nah...she don’t feed me. Says I’m gettin’ too fat!” he chuckled. Steve rolled his eyes. Only Buffy could find an ounce of fat on his friend. Michael was simply big-not only in sheer size but heart as well. He was one of Steve’s best friends. Always quick with a joke yet possessing the patience of a saint when it came to simply listening.
“Good morning, Mr. Waltrip. I trust your practice went well?” Steve began in a mock Cockney accent.
“Uh uh...sucked.” Michael shook his head disgustedly, “I swear if I can’t get out of this ride, I think I’m gonna hang it up next year. Every week, the car’s a piece of crap. Only good news to report is Jimmy Smith just bought us out.”
Steve nodded, “Yeah...maybe Jimmy can get your team back on track.” A shadow crossed Michael’s normally handsome features as he hung his head low. Steve put an arm around his broad shoulders, “Y’know...Dale’s thinking of starting up that third team of his. You know who he was thinkin’ about hiring?” Michael shook his head.
“You, ya goose! I’m surprised the old bastard hasn’t said anything yet.” Steve grinned. “Guess I blew it-wasn’t supposed to let you know yet. Think he wanted to tell ya himself.”
“Dale Earnhardt wants me for his third team? He’s nuts...” Michael muttered. “I’m 30th in points right now...you sure he wanted me?”
“That’s what he said, pal o’ mine. He wants to see what you’re gonna do about Jimmy-whether you’re gonna sign that new contract for 2001.”
“I did tell Dale that I had the contract-but I ain’t signed nothin’ yet-gotta think this over. The deal just ain’t no good, Steve...guess I should see what Dale’s got to say, huh?” He yawned and stretched his lanky frame.
Steve grinned and poked him in the ribs, “Don’t start bummin’ on me Mikey, let’s not talk about deals and cars and all that shit...I don’t like seein’ my best bud bummin’! I swear when you’re down, you got the longest puss I’ve ever seen!” He reached low and tickled Michael behind his knee-that elicited a half-guffaw, half-yelp as Michael momentarily levitated off his perch.
“I’m not sad-it’s just my face.” Michael slyly smiled and nudged him back.
“Blue skies are gonna clear up...just sit on a happy face!” Steve sang, grinning sappily.
“My face or yours?”
“Sit on my faaaaaaace and tell me that you love meeeeeeeee!” The pair collapsed against each other like a pair of naughty school boys in a fit of giggles. Their mirth was halted temporarily by series of short, abrupt “ahems” barked behind them.
At that point, Steve’s owner and Michael’s possible future boss, Dale Earnhardt looked out from the garage and growled, “If you boys ain’t workin’, go find another place to howl yer fool heads off! Yer buggin’ the shit outta me! Now git!”
“C’mon Mike-day’s still young...brought my Jeep-let’s take a cruise.” Steve coaxed Michael, who reluctantly slid off the toolbox, pausing momentarily to look back at Earnhardt, who was staring fixedly at them.
“What?!” Earnhardt snorted, as if reading Michael’s mind. The faintest hint of a smile played on his lips beneath the fringe of his mustache.
“Uhm...Dale...can we..uhm get togeth-.”
“Tell ya what-stop by my shop on Monday morning-we’ll talk.” Earnhardt said with an authoritative nod. Not one to babble needlessly, he simply turned without looking back. End of conversation. “Have fun, kids-don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do. “
Michael stared back, contemplating what this could mean. A change of course for his career or perhaps a simple bull session. Dale Earnhardt kept his cards well concealed until he needed to make his play. He sighed heavily and turned to Steve. Things have not gone well for him at all since he left the Woods Bros. team. For all intent and purpose, his less-than-stellar career for Jim Mettai remained winless at the Cup level; most team owners had already written him off as washed-up and over. Why would Dale Earnhardt think anything different? Michael and Dale were friends off the track but what would give Michael any reason to think that he would be considered for such a plum ride?
Even in the solitude of his motorcoach, there was no reprieve. Buffy, his wife, though a good mother to their one daughter, more often than not, left his bed a cold and lonely place. Intimacy with Michael was soulless and infrequent as possible, leaving him to satisfy his strong sexual drive elsewhere. Personal happiness and satisfaction with life in general had been becoming as elusive as that first Cup victory.
He looked over at Steve, who draped his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “C’mon Mikey....it gets better, I promise. Let’s go have some fun....”
Steve always managed to bring him out of his funk. He could smell mischief in the air and his eyes lit up with the prospect of some well-deserved hell-raising. Ramming around with a good friend, a good dinner, a little drinking and perhaps retiring for the night in the arms of a new lover.
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“No...keep your wrist straight....that’s it...now bring it back...” Michael stood behind Steve at the local bowling alley. “Sloooooo......AAAAAHHHH!” For someone so ungainly, Michael leaped rather gracefully out of the way just in time as Steve’s ball suddenly slipped off his fingers and went sailing into the chairs behind them. Both were a bit tipsy at this point; having downed their share of beer.
“Whoopsy!” giggled Steve, collapsing against Michael. “I didn’t get you, did I?”
“Nah...just knocked that ol’ fart’s head clean off behind us!” Michael snorted. He draped his arm nonchalantly around Steve’s shoulders and for a moment, the two caught each other’s gaze and held it. The hair at the back of Steve’s neck suddenly stood on end as the heat of Michael’s body enveloped him; momentarily stunned by something that could best be described as electric passing between them. Senses on overload, unsure of what that passing “moment” between them was and yet strangely aware all at once, Steve eased himself away a little to face Michael. He didn’t lose all contact-just wanted to interject a little space that’s all.
Michael grinned and shrugged, as if nothing had happened at all, “How bout we head to this little steakhouse up the road and grab a bite to eat, bud?” Yawning and stretching his long frame, he set the ball back on the rack. He had enough of bowling and the noise of the alley. He glanced at Steve as he bent to remove his bowling shoes. He wondered how much Steve knew about him-if the stories and rumors that circulated about the garage had already painted an inaccurate portrait in his mind. It was no secret that Michael’s marriage and image of the upstanding family man was little more than a front. It wasn’t always his fault that he had often found his solace in the arms of men as well as other women-his own bed was for the most part as cold as a tomb. Though he was a loving father, he still ached for a soulmate of his own. He had fancied Steve for a while-reluctant to approach him due to his employment with Dale. Michael would never allow his actions to endanger Steve’s career, so he remained content to give Steve a starring role in his fantasies. But now here he was-alone with Steve and how much longer could he keep his distance? He looked into Steve’s clear eyes and pictured them closed in ecstasy. It was all he could do to keep from shuddering at the visual.
“Mike-you ok?” Steve put a hand on his arm and Michael jumped involuntarily. “Don’t go gettin’ all quiet on me...”
“Yeah, I‘m ok....just got too much to think about these days.” Michael smiled warmly, “Now about that food...”
“Mmmm...food! Must eeeeaaat.” Steve groaned, ala Homer Simpson. It was just starting to get dark and the sky was a brilliant pink as the sun reflected off the departing clouds. Seneca lake blended into the indigo sky as a few cruise boats left for the evening dinner tours. Breathing deep the night air, Steve cast a side-long glance at Michael. How soft, inviting his lips were-how would it feel to kiss them, he thought as he observed other couples together by the lake. He blushed and tried to erase those thoughts from his mind but one look at those deep-set, azure eyes brought them back again. Steve knew all about Michael and instead of being repulsed, he found the whole concept of making love to his friend enticing. While he had never been with another man in his life, he thought about it. But how could he approach another man in the sterile environment that Nascar promoted? Yes, it was all good, clean fun for the family but it could be personally stifling for the drivers themselves as they had to keep an unattainable image of perfection. Pure in mind, soul and body. Dirty thoughts kept at bay as he envisioned Michael on his knees before him...the very scent of him almost made Steve swoon as Michael draped his arm around his shoulders.
“.....and so I was tellin’ Darrell that maybe he’d ought to hang it up...retire...y’know what I mean, Steve?....uh Steve?” Michael was chattering away while Steve sat across from the table, gazing at the exquisite contours of his face. “Earth to Park....helllooooooo...anyone home?” Michael playfully reached out and knocked on Steve’s head. “Now who’s gettin’ all quiet?” Again, that wonderful smile....
Blinking and embarrassed, Steve looked away, shaking his head. “Sorry man...just lost in my own world.”
Michael leaned back and poured another glass of wine, “Ah..that’s ok. I get like that too....” Cocking his head, he gazed quizzically at Steve, “Sooooo.....how’s your love life goin’ there, bud? Still chasing that little strawberry blonde chickie?”
The color rose to Steve’s cheeks again; the strawberry blonde was the last thing on his mind at the moment. “Nah...she’s history. Couldn’t deal with all that whinin’, know what I mean?”
“Do I ever....” Michael chuckled as he took another sip of wine. I better lay off this stuff before I say or do something I’ll probably regret later, he thought as his eyes wandered over Steve’s well-sculpted torso. He was trying in vain to keep his growing arousal in check and failing miserably. “Ah women...who needs ‘em?” Now that was a dumb statement! he chided himself as he caught the quizzical look on Steve’s face.
“Strange coming from you-the original Studmeister!”
“Yeah...that was a pretty dumbass thing to say! Don’t want anybody to...” Michael looked comically around the room. “...think I’m gay or something...”
“It wouldn’t bother me..” At once Steve sat wondering, Did I just say that??! while Michael cocked his head-did he just say that? Dead silence between the two, both wrestling unsuccessfully with emotions that threatened to wash over them both; to sweep them away to a point of no return.
“Steven.........?”
......”Michael.....?”
Steve cleared his throat, “I’m sorry Mike...I shouldn’t ...I mean....uhm....I know..err I heard some things about you....” Oshit this is going so wrong! Nothing is coming out right! He looked pleadingly at Michael, who sat quietly regarding him. “What I’m trying to say is-it doesn’t bother me...I-”
A sad, knowing smile crossed Michael’s face as he reached out and gently placed his hand on Steve’s. “It’s ok, Steve...thanks.”
Not sure whether to laugh or cry, Steve whispered, “For what?”
“Accepting me.”
“Accept you-? Of course I accept you! Mike-you’re my best friend! You mean everything to me...”
“Steve...?” A peculiar, quiet smiled played about Michael’s lips as he gazed deeply into Steve’s eyes.
“Mike?” Steve grinned. Oh no-he’s not playing now, he’s serious, Steve thought as his loopy grin faded. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise slightly as Michael leaned close. Close enough to kiss...
“Have you ever thought about getting off with another man?” Michael’s voice was barely a whisper now. Michael knew he was treading that fine line between seduction and rejection; the possibility that he had already gone over that line to the point of destroying Steve’s friendship and trust rearing it’s ugly head in his mind’s eye. Steve’s eye widened as he faced Michael; could already see that his friend wore his heart on his sleeve as he struggled with his own unrequited desires.
“Y--yes.” he said simply, his voice barely audible. “But how, Mikey? They’d have our heads on a platter and the rednecks would be screaming for blood if they even suspected there was something going.....Every one of us has a morality clause in our contracts-we’d lose our sponsors, our rides....” He swallowed and went on, “...and Dale...oh man, he’d fuckin’ kill me first THEN fire me!”
Michael’s brows furrowed as he furiously shook his head, “Not Dale. Steve, there’s a lot you don’t know about Dale.” Steve’s eyes grew wider at his words’ implications. Michael laughed aloud, “No-I didn’t sleep with him! But he knows......and in his own way, he accepts me.” Michael grew reflective for a moment, “He’s one of the few that can understand me. Hell, Darrell couldn’t stand the sight of me for a long time, but Dale and the Pettys more or less took me under their wing-kept me from gettin’ mixed up with the wrong crowd-like Tim did.” He looked away for a moment, a pained _expression on his face.
Steve knew he was referring to Tim Richmond-a great driver but who’s flamboyant lifestyle lead to his demise and the loss of respect among his fellow drivers. Michael, at one time, was more or less headed for the same path had it not been for the guidance of Richard Petty and Dale’s friendship.
His own brother had been repulsed by Michael’s alternative lifestyle-it would be many years before the two would finally become close. Steve’s heart broke for the years of loneliness and frustration his friend had endured for so long. Steve had never slept with another man, wasn’t even sure if he could. Yet something deep, something primal pushed him towards Michael. He needed him, to surrender to him.
Closing his hand around Michael’s, he gazed back into those luminous, deep-set eyes, “Want to go back to my coach? I’ve never done this before Mike, but I want you to stay with me tonight.”
“Wow...our first date and I didn’t even kiss ya!” Michael chuckled, trying to put his friend at ease. “I’d like that-we don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable with it. I’d never push you into something you weren’t sure of....”
“Ssshhhh....I know. Let’s just get out of here.” Steve fished for his keys and left a tip on the table as they hurried for the door. Yes, hurry now before I lose my nerve, Steve thought. How can I go through with this? What have I gotten myself into now? Will he even look at me tomorrow, let alone speak to me? He had no idea what he was getting himself into but suddenly he felt very, very alive as if ever fiber of his existence were set aflame.
****************************
The coach was dark except for a few track lights in the hallway. Steve involuntarily shivered as if chilled. He fumbled with the stereo and found a classic rock station. The silence would have driven him up the wall and even the raucous anthem pounded out by U2 was soothing compared to deafening silence. Michael stood back as Steve wandered into the kitchen.
“Want something to drink?” he stammered, hands shaking and nearly dropping the wine glass. Turning without looking behind him, he slammed into Michael’s chest, spilling half of the bottle all over Michael’s shirt. “Shit and dammit!”
“Hey..hey...shhhh.” Michael gently took the bottle from him. “Relax...it’s ok. It’s just me.” He cautiously pulled Steve into his arms, felt how tense he was. Large, strong hands slowly trailed up and down Steve’s back. “You feel like you’re about to break in two.” he whispered. “C’mon....let me help you unwind a little.” Steve nodded and uttered what could best be described as a strangled whimper, allowing Michael to lead him to the bedroom in the back of the coach.
Once he turned the covers down, Steve collapsed flat on his stomach while Michael gently massaged his shoulders. Long fingers, strong as a hawk’s talons, worked in a circular motion. Working slowly across Steve’s broad shoulders and down his spine. The nerves set on edge released their hold on Steve’s body as Michael continued rub deep into tense muscle. The stereo played softly outside in the living room, a clock ticked away like metronome, crickets and the distant sounds of the outside world all softly accompanied by an occasional soft moan from Steve as Michael continued to caress his body. Steve relaxed even more, lulled by the steady sound of Michael’s breathing, the heat of his body and the spicy, musky scent of him.
“Y’know...you could take this shirt off-it would be a little easier to do this....” Michael whispered, his hot breath tickling Steve’s ear. “I mean, it’s ok if you don’t want to....” But ohhh...how I want to touch you....he almost said.
Steve rolled over and smiled shyly, “uhm..yeah....sorry.....” he slipped out of his shirt. He didn’t miss the hungry look in Michael’s eyes gazing intently at him. He smirked, “Ok now...your turn.” Leaning close, he slowly unbuttoned Michael’s shirt; slowly sliding it over his shoulders, biting his lower lip as he regarded Michael’s well-muscled, lean physique. Sucking in his breath, Steve hesitantly drew his hands slowly up Michael’s torso, so unsure of himself yet wanting nothing more than to be with Michael, to please him, to be one with him.
“I don’t even know where or how to start this....” Steve whispered, not even aware that he said it aloud.
Gently taking Steve’s hand and raising it to his lips, Michael could sense the younger man’s nervousness, his uncertainty. “It’s ok...if we go too far, just say the word and we can stop this.”
“No....don’t stop...”
Michael gently laid him back, tenderly letting his lips travel in light, butterfly kisses and nips down Steve’s torso. Lightly flicking his tongue over Steve’s tiny, erect nipples, Michael smiled when Steve let out a loud moan. Planting more kisses, he paused just at Steve’s belt, gently rubbing the now prominent bulge in his jeans.
“Steve.....?” Blue eyes now darkened by lust gazed up at him, hypnotizing him with the desire within. “Do you like this? Hmmmmm? Tell me what you want...” the husky voice whispered.
“Ogod Mike...” Steve frantically arched his hips against Michael. “Please....I want you so much....”
Michael smiled playfully, “Mmmmm....think it’s time we got nekkid....” he chuckled as he rose and removed his own khakis and briefs. Steve laid on the bed watching him undress. He stared, fascinated at Michael’s now naked form beside him. Steve had heard many a tale regarding how well-hung Michael was but he couldn’t help but stare at his friend’s half-erect manhood. Michael grinned as he dove for Steve’s belt.
“Am I gonna have to yank these off myself?”
“Sorry...but I couldn’t help it....”
Steve no sooner slipped out of his boxers when Michael growled lustfully and buried his face in Steve’s crotch. Steve emitted a yelp as Michael furiously began to devour him. Michael, startled, glanced up. “You ok with this?”
“Oh man...don’t stop...” Grinning, Michael returned to work, slowly lavishing his attention on Steve’s cock. Completely swallowing him, full soft lips working their magic. Playful, long tongue deliciously swirling around the head of his organ. Alternating between slow, deliberate stroking to relentless, Michael expertly drove Steve to the brink of madness. Swallowing him further than he had ever experienced, taking ever deeper.....hands gently kneading his balls....the world as Steve knew it fading away.....
“Mmmm...o Mike...gonna cum...can’t help it...” Steve’s breathing became short labored panting as Michael paused for just a moment to lick his finger. Before Steve realized what was happening, Michael returned to suck him even harder, sliding his long finger deep inside him. Steve’s world suddenly became a supernova of pleasure as his hips bucked against Michael’s face, his hot seed sliding down Michael’s throat. Michael continued to suck until Steve lay completely spent, drenched in sweat. Planting one, final gentle kiss on Steve’s abdomen, Michael lay his head against Steve’s chest; wrapping himself around Steve in a cocoon of warmth and bliss. Michael’s own balls were aching for release, but for the moment, he was content to just hold Steve.
Except Steve had other ideas. Idly playing with the thick curls on Michael’s head, his hands drifted slowly down Michael’s torso; marveling at the soft, smooth skin and sinewy, long frame. Fingers gently glided through the soft, brown hairs that traveled from the center of Michael’s chest to his pubic bone; pausing to gently massage his hard nipples. Michael emitted a pleased, purring groan deep in his throat as Steve gingerly stroked the velvety hardness of Michael’s cock.
“Mmmm..yesssssssss” Michael drew his breath in sharply as Steve cupped his heavy balls. He cracked an eye open as Steve fumbled about in the night stand for some baby oil. He groaned loudly as Steve poured the luke-warm liquid on his quivering manhood and began vigorously stroking him.
“Mike?”
“Uhmmmmhuh? Oh damn...don’t stop....” Michael rocked his hips against Steve’s stroking.
“I...uh...really liked it when you..uhmm...were touching me..down there...” Steve slowly straddled Michael’s hips, his back now facing him. “Please...Mike....can you ..uh.....” Steve broke off as he felt Michael’s arms around him; gently nuzzling him.
“Steve..this is a little too soon to be doing this...I just don’t want to hurt you..” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “And this will hurt...a little at first...”
“Please Michael....I want you. I’ve always wanted you....”
Unable to stop now, Michael gently rubbed his throbbing organ against Steve’s opening. Just the thought of Steve allowing Michael to take him from behind almost made him swoon. Ever so slowly, he pushed the large head of his cock into Steve; slowly then withdrawing. He uttered a deep half moan, half-sigh as he felt the tight muscles and warmth of Steve’s body enveloping him . He nearly climaxed but somehow regained control of his body. Flexing his hips and grasping Steve’s flanks he began to slowly rock against Steve’s buttocks.
Steve gritted his teeth. Yes, it did hurt-excruciatingly so. Tears flowed from his eyes as Michael kissed his shoulders. “Just relax a little more...that’s it....”
Slowly he felt himself stretch and dilate enough to accompany his impassioned lover. Soon his hips rocked against Michael’s pelvis as Michael slowly and rhythmically flexed his hips, rocking against Steve. Michael’s large hand drifted to Steve’s now engorged organ and quickly began stroking in time with his own thrusting. The two were now one as Michael’s orgasm shook through every fiber of his being, followed closely with Steve’s release.
Time stood still as the two collapsed in a tangled heap of legs and arms entwined. The night marked them forever as they gave themselves to each other. The hills around the tiny lake and the racetrack on the high windy hill bore witness to love found anew.
*****************************
The night bore witness to their passion. Only one minor interruption occurred-Michael’s wife had phoned, satisfied that he would be out of her hair for one night, hung up and left the two to continue their lovemaking. Michael was quite content in the satisfaction and knowledge that it wouldn’t have bothered her in the least that he would be spending his night in the arms of another.
Steve awoke the next morning, almost afraid to open his eyes to the empty bed that surely must be waiting for him. That marvelous night of passion must surely have been a dream. No..he could smell Michael’s scent on his pillow, feel the warm form next to him. Slowly he opened his eyes and smiled. The sun was pouring through the open shades, shining warm and golden. He tenderly traced the curve of Michael’s lips, the contour of his fine, high cheekbones and strong jaw-line. Yes, this was real....this time it’s for real. Steve fought back the overwhelming emotion building up inside, almost felt like weeping for joy. So this is what it feels like to be really loved, he thought.
Michael stirred beside him, smiling and stretching. “G’mornin’ sunshine!” he said groggily.
“Hi...” Steve said shyly. It was if he were seeing Michael anew. Not just an old running buddy but now he was his world. His lover. “Michael-I..I just want to thank you....that was an amazing night-you were amazing...I-”
“Shhhh....I know....you made me feel amazin’ too.” Michael rolled over and wrapped his long arms around Steve and held him close, resting his face against Steve’s forehead. One tender kiss spoke volumes and the two nestled together. Neither knew where this would lead but both were certain it would lead to anything but a dull moment. No talk of tomorrow. No talk of love and other sad dreams.
Right now, Steve and Michael were simply content live and love for the moment.
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