Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 A Day at the Races

   The smell was overwhelming.  Methanol fumes, oil and tobacco smoke in
all forms, mainly from cigars.  In the repair shop, the box as they called
it, tools seemed to occupy every spare place, from the simple wrench in all
possible sizes up to sophisticated contraptions built for specific
purposes, so unique they didn't even have a name.  Everybody seemed to be
smoking, from the young apprentice, barely seventeen up to the manager who
smoked a big Cuban, possibly a genuine one.  My shiny new laptop had
already been tainted.  Big fat fingerprints in oil or whatever the brown
substance was, spread over its silvery cover.  At least the inner space,
keyboard and screen, had till now escaped the ruddy treatment.  I had a
roll of kitchen towels handy to wipe my hands every time I had touched some
oily part.

   I scrolled for the hundredth time thru the log file.  Whatever had gone
wrong, I simply couldn't find any hint there, except for the glitch of a
tenth of a second indicating an emergency restart of the Motronic.  From
outside I heard the roar of a high-power racing engine, now almost in idle,
as the car rolled down the pit lane heading for the box.  It rolled right
in, missing my feet by less then an inch.  Well, the pilot sure knew his
job and wouldn't have deliberately hit me, but still it was a frizzling
sensation.  The engine died suddenly and the pilot unbuckled the belts and
jumped out of the open-wheeler.  I turned back to the screen of my laptop
and the frustrating quest for the error in the program. The shadow of the
pilot fell over me.  He stood behind me peeping over my shoulder.

   'Can't you do something?  I'm sick and tired of all these rounds over
and over again, only to get the same fucking hiccup in the engine.  You
sold us this new firmware as a huge improvement and what did we get?  An
engine with a hiccup!  How am I supposed to win the race tomorrow?'

   It was a peculiar voice, soft, almost like of a teenager.  I looked up
and into the mirror on the wall opposite me and watched the pilot take off
his helmet.  For a moment I thought my eyes would pop out!  The pilot was a
woman!  And what a woman!  The racing suit covered most of her body, but
her face was that of an angel.  A round face with violet eyes under long
eyelashes, a thin nose and wonderful upturned lips.  Long blonde curls
framed her beautiful head.  I sat there speechless.  Besides, what was I
supposed to tell her?  That I had tried in vain to find the error in
someone else's program?

   'What's the matter?  Lost your voice?' she sure sounded angry and I
couldn't blame her.

   'Look Miss, I'm sorry, but this simply takes some time.  I'm still
looking for the exact moment it happens.  This program has thousands of
lines of code.  Unless I find out what the difference between our
simulation and the real life is, it's gonna be very hard.'

   'Then do something!' she shouted angrily and walked away.

   Somme bitch, I thought.  What a pity.  With that face!  Then the idea
hit me.  I called the company on my cell phone.

   'Hey Jake, do you think you can compare the real-time telemetric logs I
have here with the ones you get from the simulation?'

   I prayed he would say yes.  And he did.

   'Yeah, well, I guess I could.  Just upload what you've got and I'll see
what I can do tomorrow.'

   Shit!  I cursed.  That would be too late.

   'Err, ah, sorry Jake, but they've got a race tomorrow and if I'm to find
something it should be today.'

   My heart pounded while I waited for his answer.

   'OK, Joe, I guess I can squeeze it in.  I'll get a sandwich and work
thru my lunch break.'

   'Great Jake, I owe you what.  Data's under way now.'

   I clicked the button and hoped the network wouldn't break down in the
middle of the transfer.  While I waited for the 100% mark I heard the pilot
lady behind my back again.

   'Ehem, Mister, I just, well I...  It's this, I'm sorry I shouted at you.
I know you do your job and...  I'd just hate to come up last tomorrow.  I
mean the way the car works I'll be last into the grid and, well...'

   Surprised I turned my head and saw her standing there with an apologetic
smile.  She had changed her racing suite for an overall that seemed way too
large for her and hid most of her body.  'No need to apologize, Miss.  I
know how you feel.  I very frustrated myself.  You see, my problem is that
the guy who's responsible for this has fallen off his bike and now he's in
the hospital with a lot of fractures.  With all the painkillers he can't
think straight, so it's up to me and I have to find my way thru all this.'
I pointed to the screen.

   'Oh, that sure's bad luck.  But it's your problem, not mine.'

   The anger she had displayed before slowly crept up in her voice again.

   'Yeah, I know.  Anyway, I just had an idea that may help us.  I've just
sent up some data to the company and now I'm waiting for them to come up
with something.'

   'And can't you do something in between?'

   'Actually yes, I could for instance step thru all the lines once again.
Let me see, yeah I'll be thru same time next week.'

   She burst into a short laughter.

   'Then, on the other hand maybe I could play a game of Solitaire or...  I
guess lunch would be a good idea too.'

   I had intentionally teased her, as she had gotten on my nerves.

   'I see.  I mean, I'm no egghead like you, but even I understand there's
a point were a break can help.  Tell you what.  I'll by you lunch if our
Oil Swamp is good enough for you.  I'm afraid there's little else around
here, except you want to order a pizza or something.'

   'Oh, as long as they don't use engine oil for cooking, it's OK with me.
I'm not very picky about food anyway.  Anything will do.'

   'Actually they're not that bad and be assured they don't use engine oil.
In fact the cook is new and I've heard he knows his job well.'

   'Then what are we waiting for.  And by the way, I'm Diane'

   'Nice to meet You.  I'm Bill.'

   We shook hands and I followed her to the little restaurant behind the
compound.  Except for traces of the typical racing smell that persisted
even here, probably brought in by the customers, mechanics and pilots
mostly, it was a neat little affair with maybe ten tables and simple but
comfortable chairs. We got our sandwiches and Cokes from the counter and
than sat down.

   'I hope you don't mind we sit in the smoking section?'

   My heart jolted.  Not only was she beautiful, she also smoked!  Maybe it
was stupid of me to hope for anything.  After all she belonged to an
entirely different world were muscles and instinct were the only things
that really counted.  In my own little universe it was brains that counted
the most.  Yet, she looked so cute and her eyes sparkled with intelligence
that I just couldn't help but to get excited.

   We munched away on our food, both a little shy.  She probably regretted
already she had invited me.  After all she was surrounded by big heavy
guys. In a man's world she could take her pick any time.  Why should she be
interested in a nerd like me?  I have never seen myself as unattractive,
yet I did not reek of Testosterone and male Pheromones like the guys I had
seen around the racing track.  I young girl like her sure could do better.

   I had time to watch her closely now.  The impression of an angelic face
slowly dissipated.  Seen thru a mirror a few yards away her face had looked
perfect.  Now, only two or three feet away, I could see the slight
irregularities that did in fact make her look more human but somehow more
attractive.  Her nose bent slightly to one side and had probably been
broken although expertly fixed.  She also had a scar on her upper lip.

   'Aaah,' she sighed, 'Just on time.  I was really hungry.' and leant
back. 'I hope you don't mind if I smoke?'

   'No, sure, go ahead.' m apprehension grew.  Would she be a good smoker
or just someone who burnt cigarettes for nothing?  Some smokers really
smoke in disgust, like they hate themselves for doing it, others smoke
casually, without giving it attention.  Only on and off did I get the
chance to see a woman really enjoy smoking.

   'What about you, do you smoke?'

   'Who, me?  No, never did.'

   'Don't know what you're missing, buster' she said with a wicked smile.

   She took a long flat pack from the breast pocket of her overall.  Out of
it she extracted a slim cigar or better cigarillo that had plastic
mouthpiece attached to it.  Now this really shocked me.  I had judged her
to be barely twenty-one, as she had to be to get her racing license.  I had
on occasions seen elderly women taking to cigars but this was different. 
Apparently without noticing my sudden excitement, she took a big metal
lighter from another pocket and with the plastic tip of the cigar clenched
between her teeth, she held the flame to the end of the cigar and puffed
till it had a uniform glow.  Clearly she had done this many times.  Now she
took one long, very long drag and with an audible sigh inhaled the smoke. A
small double puff escaped her nose and then she blew a big plume over my
head.

   'This is the best moment in smoking one of these.  The first hit.' Like
to demonstrate the contrary she took a second hit, again inhaling with
obvious satisfaction and blowing another big plume with eyes closed.

   'Hey, are shocked?  Speechless?' she waved a hand in front of my eyes
and broke the spell her display of smoking skills had cast upon me.

   'Oh, sorry.  No of course not.  Actually I just had an idea.'

   I had to make up an excuse fast.  It was impossible to tell her she had
aroused me with her smoking.  I had never met a woman that looked like she
would be open-minded enough to understand.  I had tried only once to
confess and the result was horrible so I made a vow never to give myself
away again.

   'Let me hear!' she exclaimed, involuntarily engulfing me in a cloud of
aromatic smoke.

   'Now that's not so easy.  It's still foggy and I'll have to check
myself. If I'm right you'll be the first to know.'

   Something strange happened to me next.  A sort of inspiration had
descended on me.  I vague notion of what may be the problem had indeed
popped up.  I stashed it away for future use.  For now I just wanted to sit
there and admire this wonderful young cigar smoker.

   'Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to stick my nose into things that are none of
my concern.  Besides it would probably sound Chinese to me.'

   'No, no, don't say that.  Your team pays for it so it in a way it is
your concern too.  But true.  It's not easy to explain software to an
outsider.  Tell you what, I promise I'll explain it to you in plain words
as soon as I found the error.'

   She touched my forearm and said:

   'Thanks.  You're very nice.  I know I'm probably too stupid to
understand it anyway, but thanks.'

   'Oh c'mon, don't be modest.  It really isn't that difficult.  Trust me.
But I'd like to ask you a question, if you don't mind.'

   I would never dare reveal the reason behind my interest, but I always
felt a compulsive need to find out as much as I could about the smoking
habit of a woman.  Even that had ruined my chance to get intimate with a
beautiful smoker more than once.

   'Sure, go ahead.'

   'Well, I'm a bit curious how you came to smoke these...  What are they
called actually?'

   She giggled, not offended at all by my curiosity.  After another deep
lung inhale she answered, still giggling on and off.  The mixture of a
girlish attitude and her very adult smoking did not fail to work on me.  My
dick hurt, squeezed hard against the zipper of my pants and I could only
hope my face wouldn't give me away.

   'These are Tiparillos.  I know it's pretty nasty, but actually my
father's to blame I smoke them.  I don't even know if I would be a smoker
now if it hadn't been for him.'

   Interesting, I thought.  From the stories I had heard over the years it
had often be the mother, mostly other girls or boys, but now for the first
time I heard of a father to teach his daughter to smoke.

   'So he taught you to smoke cigars?' I hoped she didn't notice my
excitement.

   'No, of course not.' She said laughing.  'My God no!  It was like this.
I've been on the track ever since I've been ten or eleven.  My father owns
the team, so even if my mother wasn't very happy about it, my father took
me with him.  When I grew fifteen, my father had a bad time and was away
often.  I found out later it had been because of my mother who eventually
divorced him in the end.  Anyways, the guys from the team offered me to try
a round in a car and I got to like it instantly.  Fact is I had been
practicing in go-carts ever since I was six, so it was just a bigger car to
me, nothing really new.  My second round with the racing car, of course
they gave me an old one they used more to study the track than for real
racing, astonished them.

   Seems like I have a natural talent for racing, the racer's ass they call
it.  The guys wanted to celebrate my first trip in a racing car and I drank
some beer, not really much but just enough to make me bold.  Then one of
the guys offered me a cigar.  I took it and found puffing on a cigar quite
relaxing.  It might have been the first and last one I have ever smoked,
except my father dropped in and spoiled the party.  At first he freaked
out. He shouted at us, threatened to fire everybody but in the end he
calmed down a little.  When he heard what the occasion was, his anger
turned into pride for his daughter.

   One thing he lectured me about, thou.  He said if I was to smoke I
should rather try cigarettes instead of cigars.  He didn't smoke himself,
only my mother did and so he had no idea what smoking was all about.  It
wouldn't surprise me if he sort subconsciously wanted a smoker in
replacement for my mother who had moved out.

   Whatever his motive, he bought me cigarettes.  At first I had no idea
how to properly smoke a cigarette but again the boys from the team taught
me all about inhaling and so I soon became a regular smoker of cigarettes
at barely sixteen.  I also started to train on the track and soon I was
able to beat some of the regular pilots that raced for my father.

   Of course so I had to wait as I was under age, but I was now a respected
member of the team and could help them test the cars.  Inevitably I earned
the odd cigar now and then, but mostly I preferred my cigarettes.  That was
till the day I won my first pole.  Somehow nobody had thought of saving a
cigar for me and the next thing they came up was a Tiparillo from an older
mechanic who smoked them on a regular base.  You can imagine what followed.
I had been smoking more than two packs per day and the much stronger Tip'o
didn't really impress me.  Instead I found I liked them very much, so
gradually I turned to them and now I hardly smoke anything else, except
when somebody comes up with a genuine Cuban.'

   She took another heavy drag on her Tiparillo and squashed into the
ashtray.  To my surprise I saw a trace of lipstick on the plastic tip.  I
hadn't expected that and wondered why she had made up just for a lunch at
the tracks diner.  One would expect a female racing pilot to be a 6"4
Amazon with masculine features and heavy bones, but she was nothing of the
kind.  She wasn't exactly small but no more than 5" 8 and as far as it
showed under her overall, more on the frail side.  And a lovely face she
had too.  Except for her quite masculine smoking habit of course, but for
me that just added the little extra to her appeal.

   'That's quite a story.' I answered, sweating under the effort to keep my
excitement out of my voice.

   'You don't seem very excited about it.' She said a bit disappointed. 
How wrong she was!

   'Oh no, really.  I'm just surprised, that's all.  Aren't you mad at your
father he somehow pushed you into smoking?'

   'Mad?  For teaching me to enjoy the most rewarding sensation I know,
except maybe one other thing...?  Good Lord, certainly not.  I'm grateful.
Other girls in my school had the most horrible fights with their parents
about smoking, but they all turned into smokers anyway, some maybe just to
punish their parents.  I just love smoking, so why should I be mad at him.
When I think about it, I would have taken it up sooner or later anyway, as
most of the girls in my class had started smoking, some even years before
and well, my mother had smoked too, so...'

   'Well then everybody's happy.  That's good to hear.'

   'Except you.  I can see you're troubled.'

   So she had smelled it.  But what was I to do?  Then I called myself to
order, when my cell phone interrupted our conversation as Jake called me
back to tell me about his analyses.  I excused myself hastily and sprinted
back to the box, phone over my ear and slumped into the chair in front of
my laptop.

   'Shoot, Jake.  What have you found?'

   'Not much really, except that whoever drives the car there has a
slightly different style from the guy we have recorded our simulation
with.'

   That of course should have been clear to me from the beginning and I
began to see light at the end of the tunnel.

   'In what way?'

   'The data is just coming to you now.  The one major difference is that
the guy who pilots the car now sometimes uses break and gas at the same
time.  We have nothing like that in our simulation.'

   That would narrow the range considerably, I thought.

   'Could you include it?  I mean if I'm to find something now, I would
like to upload the patch pronto and have it compiled and tested today. 
I'll talk to the pilot and see if she can stay late.'

   'Deal, man.  The boss was here and when he heard what I'm doing he
actually thanked me and said this here has the uppermost priority.  I'll
stay in late if you I have to.  I can't miss an opportunity to earn some
extra points with the boss.'

   He laughed, but I knew him well enough.  A word from the boss sure would
enhance his motivation.

   'Truth is, I've taken the whole log and turned it into a new simulation.
I'll always run it after with the old one from now on.  Good enough for
you?'

   I would have to do some thinking about that.  Jake sure knew his job,
but I had some ideas of my own.  For now however it would have to do.  The
most important thing was to find the bug now.  And I did.  The typical slip
of the pen, although it was a slip of the keyboard actually.  I had
involuntarily jumped up and shaken my fist, overwhelmed by the joy I had
found what was amiss.

   'Hey, you got it!  Can you download it to the car so I can try it out?'
the lady pilot exclaimed happily.  She had seen my reaction and now stood
in front of me once again with a freshly lit Tiparillo in her hand.

   'Easy now.  I've got the bug but I have to upload it for compiling and
testing.  I can't just load it into your car,'

   'Too bad,' she said.  'I'm quite itchy now.  How long this is gonna
take?'

   I felt her hand on my shoulder.  She had touched me a couple of times
during lunch and now again.  Maybe it was just her normal way, but then it
may have also been a sign she felt attracted to me.  Not that I had any
idea why she should bother, but it wasn't impossible.  Her touch was
electrifying.  I felt the hair rising on my arm and shivers ran down my
spine.  I cleared my throat and told her what I knew.

   'If everything goes well it will take maybe two hours.'

   'And if not?' she asked talking out little clouds of smoke.

   'It just has too.' ...or else I've made a complete fool of myself, I add
in my mind.

   She nodded and went away leaving a trail of smoke behind. I finished
editing and in on impulse searched the whole package for other identical
bugs.  The guy who was responsible for this had worked under enormous
pressure and so he had probably copied and pasted some parts of the code to
reuse it in other modules.  My instinct was right.  I found the same bug in
other places too.  With a prayer that those were the only bugs, I sent it
up and decided to take a walk in the neighborhood.

   I surrounded the compound and following a path thru the neighboring
meadow I stumbled upon a trailer park.  Obviously the members of the racing
teams camped here.  As most of the inhabitants were busy at the track, the
place seemed deserted.  I felt a bit odd wondering thru this ghost city
till I heard some muffled moans coming thru a little window of one of the
trailers.  It was a big Winnebago and like under a spell I tiptoed nearer
to the window that was slightly ajar.  It was high up so I could not see
much.  After my eyes adapted to the relative darkness inside I could
however make out the head and a bit of the shoulders of a young woman.  My
friend, the racing pilot!  What went on became quite obvious as I watched
her.  One hand was up held one of her Tiparillos on which she kept sucking
haphazardly.  The other was as far as I could make out stretched down and
rested probably between her legs.  No question, unless another person knelt
down out of my sight, she was smoking and masturbating.  The sight of her
sucking on her cigarillo and moaning with half closed eyes mad me horny
too. I had to get away fast.  Hoping she hadn't seen me I plunged into a
nearby bush and within seconds I was rubbing my dick.  It must have been
the fastest orgasm of my life.  Within seconds the sperm shot out of my
dick and I almost collapsed, as my trembling knees couldn't hold my weight
any more.

   A little ashamed I looked around and as I saw nobody, I returned to the
racing track and to the box of the team Eagle as they called themselves.  I
woke up my laptop and the new software came in as soon as I logged into our
network.  I called the racing engineer and together we loaded the new
software into the Motronic of the one-wheeler.  Now all I had to do was
wait for Ronda, the young pilot to test it out.  It didn't take long and
she strolled in.  I may have been mistaken but somehow she avoided looking
at me.  Without a word she disappeared in the back to put on her racing
suite and before I realized what was going on she had already jumped into
the car and with a rotating move of her index she signaled the mechanics to
start her engine.  A few whining sounds of the starter box and the
deafening staccato of the engine revving up filled the box.  A few dips on
the gas and the engine ran smoothly, splitting my eardrums.  After a second
or two she disappeared, leaving behind a curtain of choking fumes.

   I joined the mechanics that watched the lap on some monitors, some
connected to a cameras on the chassis of the one-wheeler.  The perspective
was overwhelming.  I turned my eyes to the telemetric screen, as I couldn't
watch the images any more.  It looked good, very good indeed, at least as
far as I could tell.  The cries of surprise made me jolt.  At first I had
feared something had happened but then I saw the guys hug each other and
clapping each other's shoulders till a hit on my own back almost made me
topple over.

   'Hey man, we did it.  She's gonna leave them all behind tomorrow!'
someone cried.

   'Wait for the next lap' another one exclaimed.

   Then, after another minute and the odd seconds, again they all burst
into cheers.  She had just beaten the tracks record.

   'Man, what did you do to the fucking engine?  Some nitro in the tank?'

   I felt no need to answer.  After all I didn't deserve the credits.  All
I had done was find a few minor bugs and correct them.  Now the new
firmware showed what was in it.

   My job was done, so I packed my stuff and headed for the exit.  Nobody
stopped me and I took the rented car from the parking lot and headed for
town.  I had a mind to check if I could get a late flight, but then my boss
called to see what was going on and when he heard I wanted to leave, he got
mad at me.  I was supposed to stay there during the race, just in case.  I
saw no point in telling him there was not a thing in the world I could do
during the race.  He paid the bills, so I stayed.

   After a steak and a beer I returned to my hotel room and tried to get
some sleep.  I had a good novel to read, but somehow I kept reading the
same lines all over again without retaining a single word.  Then I turned
on the TV, but again my mind kept wondering off to the race.  Those images
from the onboard cams still worked on me.  The speed at which such a frail
car, no more than a metal frame on four wheels clad in some fiber sheets,
roared along concrete walls was terrifying.  A little blotch of oil on the
track and it could turn into a heap of contorted scrap metal engulfed in
the invisible flames of the Methanol they used for fuel.  Absolutely crazy!


   But those were not the only images that haunted me.  The image I had
seen thru the window of the trailer, her transfixed gaze while she kept
rubbing on her button, puffing on her Tiparillo, were equally obsessing. 
Finally I gave it all up and started to rub on my dick till with the
spurting out sperm my tension eased somewhat and I drifted away.  I had
absolutely no hope to get anywhere with her.  Except a rather offhand
invitation to buy me lunch she had given absolutely no sign she had the
slightest interest.

   The qualifying next day went exceedingly well and she got the pole,
outspending the competitors by almost a second.  As everybody was busy
preparing the race, I went to the little diner that now was almost
deserted. Everybody else was busy with setting up the cars and making last
minute adjustments, sorting out the spare tires and who knows what.

   I wondered whether Diane had again retreated to her trailer, but rather
not, I decided.  It would probably spoil her concentration.

   When I returned, the box was almost deserted as they were all at the
starting grid Then the horn announced the final minute before the start and
the mechanics returned to the box, filling it with nervous whispers.  Would
Diane finally get her chance?  As I understood, she had before been
compelled to race with an under-performing car.  Now with the new firmware
the car ran so much better she would get the chance to show her real
talent.

   I tried to watch the race from the window of the box, but I couldn't see
much more than a blur of colored shadows as the cars passed.  I only got a
good view at the pit lane and that wasn't so exciting.  So I turned to the
monitors.  They now had the images of several cams of the TV station that
broadcasted the event.  Diane had been in for new tires and now had to
fight her way back to the top past three other cars.  Every time she raced
along the concrete wall delimiting the track that seemed almost vertical
there, I felt my knees weaken.  Inching her way between wall and competing
car back to the first place where she belonged, she managed by miracle to
regain the first position without crashing into the wall or another car. 
Twice the safety car had to interrupt the race because of some ugly
accident but apparently nobody had been hurt badly.  A good day for the
pilots, it seemed.  After the safety car left for the second time, Diane
had been outsmarted by the guy in second place, but again she fought back
and finally, after what seemed hours to me, she finished first, only inches
ahead of the other car.

   The cheers of the mechanics, the laughter and clapping was deafening and
I didn't escape some heavy punches, but I got carried away with their joy
and followed them out to the tribune to watch the awarding.  Diane stood
there grinning all over her dust-smeared face and held the cup over her
head.  Soon the Champagne flowed in streams and Diane held the inevitable
Tiparillo.  I stood there behind their broad backs, not really
participating in their celebration.  After all, even thou I had helped, it
was their show, not mine.  Then, when I had lost sight of Diane, somebody
took my arm and turned me around.  Before I knew what happened two arms
flung around my neck and two wet cigar flavored lips pressed on mine.  A
wonderfully husky voice that spread the aroma of a Tiparillo whispered:

   'This is all your doing' and I got another smooch.  But the guys from
her team dragged her away and left me there, stupefied.  It had happened so
fast that I still felt her smooth body against mine and her wonderful lips,
her alluring smell...  But to what end?  I had to leave anyway as now that
everything had gone well, there was no reason to stay behind.  I went back
to the box and took my bag with the gear and left for the hotel.  More of
curiosity I unpacked the Laptop and checked my inbox.  Online time via the
new Cyngular network with it's high-speed data connection that outperformed
the usual phone line many times, wasn't exactly cheap, but my boss wasn't
that tightfisted when it came to expenses, not on the technical side
anyway. Besides, with this wireless connection I could also use my Laptop
as a cell phone and I could get web access virtually everywhere, which was
an advantage on the racetrack.  At least as long as the batteries of my
laptop held, that is.  I had a mind to just surf a bit and wasn't expecting
anything but to my surprise a mail from my boss popped up.  The order to
stick with the racing team for another week took my totally by surprise. 
Apparently my boss had been so pleasantly impressed by my quick success
with the software, he had decided to assign the whole project to me, at
least as long as Roger, my predecessor, had to stay in the hospital.

   'Fuck!' I cried in desperation.  I would have to buy some necessities,
as I hadn't calculated for more than a forty-eight hours stay.  Staying
away from my beloved playthings at home would be quite frustrating.  But
then my mood mellowed a bit.  At least I would meet Diane again.  Maybe I
would have another chance to watch her in her trailer.  That was about the
most I dared imagine.

   Somewhat comforted, I descended to the restaurant.  It was a bit early
for dinner, but I saw no harm in having a beer or two.  I had nothing in
mind for the night except, staring into my novel or on the TV like the
night before and eventually think of Diane how she...  And there she was in
the restaurant, surrounded by the team.  They had pushed some tables
together, ruffling up the otherwise neat restaurant.  The noise was
deafening.

   'Hey, Mr., Egghead, c'mon have a gallon or two with us.  You've
certainly earned it.  Without you our little kitten here wouldn't have made
it.'

   I flinched inwardly at the epithet "egghead", but the guy had meant no
offense.  A little unsure I looked around to find a breach between the
bulky figures that surrounded the table.  I was about to look for another
chair and sit in the second row, just to honor the invitation, as I didn't
really fit into their group, when a guy, the one who had called me egghead,
pushed aside the guy next to him and said:

   'Hey Groucho, make way for the Professor.  He's just as entitled to
celebrate as you are.  C'mon over here and sit down.' He said, turning to
me with his words.  I squeezed in and when I looked up, it was directly
into Diane's eyes, who watched me under her sleepy lids behind a curtain of
smoke from the Tiparillo in her hand.  She was already more than a little
tipsy.  No wonder, as she had just won her first official race.  Before I
knew what happened they had already forced on me a tumbler half full with
Bourbon and a good one too.  I just sipped on it as the whole content of it
would knocked me out cold, as unlike the noisy bunch around me I had no
exercise, not with spirits anyway, which I normally avoided.  But they were
all a little over the edge and I feared they could unintentionally get a
little brutal if I didn't humor them.  So I drank a lot more from the
tumbler then I should have.  Before the lights went out, I thought I felt a
delicate foot caressing my shin, but I was already too drunk to realize
what went on exactly.

   I woke up with a head splitter of a hangover.  Every attempt to move
sent sharp pains thru my head.  I sniffed and the air around me was filled
with a peculiar scent.  Thru the red curtain that half obscured my sight, I
distinguished some clothes that definitely weren't mine.  A mechanics
overall and some sneakers...  and a weight across my chest.  My first
thought was I lay in bed with one of the guys!  My heartbeat quickly
normalized however when I smelled something.  Beneath stale cigar smoke, a
trace of perfume.  Then, after I felt like my head would roll off while I
turned it to one side, the wrong one as it turned out, as I saw only an
ashtray that held a lipstick-smeared plastic tip of a Tiparillo.  A warm
feeling fought against my headache.  Only one person that smoked Tiparillos
and used lipstick had been present the night before.  As to confirm my
thoughts, the weight on my chest, a softer pressure than a man's arm could
have exercised, the kind of male that had been present at the table anyway,
accentuated up to a painful stab, from an elbow as I realized.  Then the
pressure stopped as the owner of the elbow retracted it.  I thought my head
would burst open, but I managed to turn the other way, to see whom I had
shared my bed with.  She was puffy almost beyond recognition but it was
Diane, no doubt about that.  Her eyes were still closed, but she started
coughing.  I felt like my head was inside a church bell, but she stopped
soon to clear her throat several times in an attempt to speak.

   'Are ...  you ....  O, hack, K?' she managed to whisper between coughs.

   I found myself equally impaired in my speech, but I mumbled something
like 'just barely' each word a stab thru my brain.

   For a while we both had to catch our breath.  She coughed some more and
this time the pain in my head was getting bearable.

   'Need ...  some ...  water' she mumbled and under more stabs thru my
brain.  I managed to stumble to the bathroom.  Now I realized my bladder
was just short of bursting so I took care of that and then I realized I had
forgotten my eyeglasses.  By sheer luck I grabbed a plastic cup and half
deafened by the sound of running water I gulped down two cups before I
filled it again and managed to bring it to her with most of the water still
in it.

   The next obstacle was that she lay flat on her belly.  I left the cup on
the board near the bed and turned to help her get in a more suitable
position.  It was now that I realized we wee both stark naked.  Even
without my eyeglasses the beauty of her body made me gasp.  I hadn't seen
much of her till now, not in a sober state anyway, but I had assumed she
would be at best muscle ridden and ungainly under her overall or the racing
suite.  But the contrary was true.  Her backside was breathtakingly sexy.
Those wonderful sloping hips, perfect legs with tiny feet!  The rump was
wonderful too.  I leant over her to grope for my eyeglasses on my side of
the bed and now my own naked state turned into an embarrassment.  I felt my
hard dick touch on of her buttocks.  I grabbed my glasses and almost fell
over her when I tried to rise as fast as I could.  In the end I managed to
stand upright and I asked her if she needed help to get up.  She declined
and turned around lazily, to expose a pair of magnificent breasts.  They
weren't overly big but absolutely perfect in shape.  Now she grabbed my
hand and managed with difficulty to sit up at least partially.  I gave her
the cup, which she gulped down in one move.

   'More'

   By now I felt a little better, even thou my stomach still heaved at
every step I made.  At least the pain in my head had turned into a dull
throb that was a little easier to bear.

   After the third cup she suddenly said:

   'If you don't help me to the bathroom pronto, I'll make an ass of
myself.'

   Either oblivious of our nakedness or not impressed by it, she leant hard
into me and I half dragged her to the bathroom where she fell on the seat
of the toilet and I fled from there. Thru the closed door I heard her
shouting:

   'Get us some Bloody Marries for crissake!'

   I did what she told me and surprisingly after I drank the chilly-hot
content of the glass, I started to feel human again.  Obviously that went
for her too.

   'Guess it's time for a grape leaf or two, don't you think?' she grinned
in my face.  'I hope at least you remember something, 'cause I sure don't.'

   Her words shocked me.  So how were we to find out what happened?  I had
had some feeble hopes that I had, even unknowingly, made love to this
beauty, but if she claimed she didn't remember anything either?

   'Well it was wonderful.' I meant it as a joke, but it must have been the
wrong thing to say because she grew sad out of a sudden.  I had no idea
why, but I had to put her right.

   'Err, look, I'm sorry.  I made a stupid joke.  I don't remember anything
either, but I doubt anything happened at all.  In fact I' pretty sure. 
Err, I don't like to say it bluntly, but if you wanna make sure, check if
you're sticky between your legs...'

   I must have turned crimson.  After all we hardly knew each other and now
we had to assume we had maybe been intimate.  She took it lightly however
and did indeed feel her inner thighs.

   'No, clean as a baby's ass here.' she said laughing.  But then another
thought darkened her mood again.

   'What if you used a sheath?'

   'Well, I don't see any around, neither used nor new.  No, be assured, I
was way too drunk to do anything.'

   'Well you certainly talked me into sleep last night, but I can't
remember a word of what you said.'

   'Then I'm afraid you remember more than I do.' I said with guilt on my
voice.

   'So you don't remember that you invited me up here?'

   ''Fraid not.' I whispered.

   She started to laugh.

   'A great couple we are indeed!' she managed to press out in-between fits
of uncontrollable laughter.

   We had during our conversation taken on some clothes.

   'How do you feel?' she asked me, serious again.

   'Fit as a fiddle, ma'm.'

   'So why don't you buy me breakfast?  If they give us breakfast so late.'
I realized she was right.  It was past ten already.

   'Let's find out!

   We were lucky and after a gallon of OJ and heaps of eggs and bacon I
felt almost like my old self and apparently so did she.  She had left the
table for a couple of minutes and now I found out why.  She had fetched
cigarettes.

   'Need something lighter now?' I asked, curious why she hadn't bought her
usual Tiparillos.

   'Well, actually it was more...  on your behalf.'

   Her answer surprised me.

   'Guess I have lost some gray cells, 'cause I don't get it.  What's it
got to do with me?  I wouldn't mind if you smoked corn cobs.' my answer
seemed to displease her.  She smoked in silence for a while and then
stubbed out the half smoked cigarette.

   'Guess not.  It was stupid for me to assume...'

   Slowly I got the message.  I took her hand into mine.

   'Oh my dear, you got me all wrong.  Go ahead and light up one of your
Tip'os.  I really wouldn't mind even if you would smoke them while...' I
didn't dare say it out loud but hoped she would understand.

   'But they stink!  I mean even smokers have told me so.'

   Still, she took a Tiparillo out of a pocket of the overall and lit it,
dragging thirstily on it.

   'Well most men may feel that way but not I.'

   She stared at me with big round eyes.

   'Then what is it to you?'

   Time for the truth, I told myself.  This was the moment.  If she would
walk out on me, too bad, but if there was the slightest chance, I just had
to go for it.  I wouldn't compromise again, hiding my arousal caused by a
woman's smoking, no more yearning for a smoky kiss, NO.

   'Well, truth is I get aroused when I see you smoke.'

   Her eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets.

   'Your making fun of me, don't you?'

   I looked deep into her eyes.

   'Would I?'

   Slowly the message worked its way thru her mind.  A smile started from
the corner of her lips and spread over her face like sunshine after a
passing cloud.

   'You mean it, don't you?'

   I nodded.

   'Bbut...  you couldn't know...  of all the people inn the world...  I
mean...' and she fell silent and blushed.

   'What is it, my dear?' I though I knew, but how could I admit spying on
her?

   She tuned to me again and her smile turned into embarrassment.

   'Look, we both know why we wound up together in your room.' she said
with determination.  'Maybe it's better nothing happened.  Although I sure
wanted it..., but I want to be sober when...'

   I gulped.  So she returned my feelings.  Well, the fact she had been in
my room spoke for itself, but that she still felt that way now that she was
sober, filled my heart with an immense joy.

   'You think we can take it up where we failed yesterday?' I whispered a
bit scared of my own courage.

   She beamed at me

   'Yes, that's exactly what I want now.'

   I took her hand and we returned to my room.  She wanted to put out her
Tiparillo, but I asked her not to and we didn't even sit down but started
into a hot embrace kissing and hugging, hands on each other's backs, up and
down from neck to buttock and back.  I had to remind her on and off not to
let her Tiparillo go out.

   The moment came when I started to unbutton her overall, but she
withdrew.

   'Wait a minute.  I want this just as much as you do, but I have to
confess something.'

   My heart jolted.  What bad news would she deliver?  A boyfriend or some
infirmity or...  But it was nothing of the sort.

   'I just wanted to tell you, well, err...  It's, well...  it's my first
time so please be careful.'

   I just caressed her face and kissed her lightly on her lips.  So that
was her big secret.

   'You see, I was the bosses daughter and none of the guys dreamt of, you
know...  I have virtually lived on the track since I was sixteen so I
hardly ever got to know guys of my own age.'

   'Don't worry, Hon, we'll manage somehow.'

   I made it as gently as I could even thou she made me so hot it was hard
to stay cool, I managed somehow.  But still, she seemed to be in
difficulties.  She was aroused all right and to moment I had passed her
hymen did not bother her much, but somehow she failed to reach a climax. 
Then it occurred to me.  Of course!  She needed an additional stimulant. 
After all I had watched her two days ago in her trailer.  How could I
forget?  I tried to look around after her pack of Tiparillos and managed to
get hold of it without sliding out of her.  I took one and the lighter and
holding my head close to hers so she couldn't see what I was doing, I lit
one.  Puffing on it felt strange as I haven't done this before, but at the
same time it was wonderfully exciting.  I took the lit Tiparillo and placed
it between her lips.  Taken by surprise she gasped but then started to suck
eagerly on it and I felt how it raised her arousal more and more till we
both rode on a wave that all but swept us away.

   The End...

   Later on: "Honey, you forgot to tell me what the problem was with that
software.' 'You really wanna know?' 'Yeah, sure...  But maybe after we...'
Much later: 'Now you must tell me!' 'All right.  It had something to do
with lost breaks.' 'BRAKES?  You mean to tell me I could have lost my
brakes and crash?' 'Hahaha...  No not brakes.  BREAKS.  Tiny little words
that delimit a multiple-choice decision in a program.  A so called DO CASE.
When you forget one of those and the program jumps to the first choice and
finds no break instruction, it will go on to the next choice and execute
that too...' 'Oh God, you sure need some brains to understand that.  I must
be very stupid.' 'No Love, you're not.  It takes a while to understand
that. I will show you on a diagram some time.' 'Yeah sometime, but now you
come back to bed.  For a nerd you sure show a lot of energy.' 'And you know
well how to raise that one...'

   THE END after The End