M A X I N E Racing Strip

As I said, he fully supported me throughout my career, which is a generous description of my capabilities. I was an average amateur racer. In a field of 25 competitors I would usually finish mid pack. A top ten was a good result and I even got a few podiums as well, but they were few and far between. He was encouraging and I think he enjoyed our weekends as much, if not more, than I did. Starting at the age of five I carried it on well into my twenties. I never really advanced through the leagues or anything like that, but there were a few of us who were fairly close knit as a group. I was the only girl in our group which gained me a few advantages. It is surprising what you can get away with when they want to get into your panties. That was off track, on track it was all business and female or not, I got no special treatment.

I was 18 years old back then. Long shoulder length dark brown hair. Five-foot-tall and weighs 53kg with a dress size of a UK 6. Handy to be small as a racer as I rode the smaller CC categories. This was mainly budget controlled as we were not at all rich and even keeping me on track on a 125cc bike had a sizable impact on my Dad's bank balance. During race weekends we stayed in our motorhome that was also Dad's daily driver, again, for budget reasons. To call it a motorhome was generous, it was a self-converted Mercedes Sprinter Medium Wheel Base panel van. In all fairness though it was a good job, nice windows, double bench seats that converted into a full-size double bed as well as a full kitchen with hot and cold running water. There was also a small bathroom, but we usually used shared facilities if they were available.

Privacy was an issue when I was in my earlier teens and hormones were flooding my body. A fair few arguments arose and I missed a few races because of it. It all calmed down though and as I got older it became less of an issue. Sharing a bed with your Dad is weird when written down like this, but it was in no way weird and if you are hoping for one of those stories you are going to be disappointed. Necessity trumped modesty though and in a one room motorhome being shy or bashful was not really a practical option. I drew the line at total nudity, if the panties were coming off he looked away, but anything else and I didn't bother. He was my Dad, I am fairly sure the knowledge that I was now a woman and no longer his baby girl was bad enough for him without adding any of his own fantasies to the image.

To add to the stereotype, I wore a white and pink racing suit with matching boots, crash helmet and gloves. It was an all in one leather racing suit that zipped down the front from neck to waist. Underneath it depended massively on the weather. If it was really warm then just bra and panties and if it was cold, I had a thermal under shirt and shorts. Normally though I just wore a vest top and shorts.

I have had a couple of fairly big crashes during my racing. I had only ever broken a finger though and nothing more serious than that. I was lucky in that I tended to bounce instead of break, but there was a constant reminder that motor sport was dangerous. A fair number of people had a big crash and didn't come back due to parents not letting them. It was always my choice to race and although my Dad worried, he let me do what I wanted.

"Morning love," Dad said.

"Ugh, morning," I mumbled, covering myself with the duvet. I was not a morning person.

"Half 9," he said.

"Uh hu," I acknowledged as I tuned into the sound of the rain on the van.

"Pissing it down and 26 degrees C already," he said.

"Super," I replied sarcastically, flicking the duvet off me and blinking the tiredness out of my eyes. He was in the kitchen making us breakfast.

"Best results in the rain," he said encouragingly as he looked at me.

"Hate the rain," I mumbled. I was a moody bitch in the morning and he knew not to engage with my shortness at any time pre 11am.

"Cheer up," he said, "Breakfast is nearly ready. Are you going for a shower first?"

"No, I will go after the race if it is raining," I said.

"Okay," he said as he plated up. It was testament to our relationship that I was lying in bed, the duvet discarded against the side of the van with me only wearing a thong. I say a thong I wouldn't have been able to generate much argument if accused of it being a G-string. It wasn't, but it was pretty small. Ignoring that though and I was still laying here with my tits out. He has seen them thousands of times and he didn't even look. I had a small chest, 32A was my bra size, but as I was so petite anyway my lack of boobs wasn't out of proportion.

"Did we sauced this time?" I asked.

"Yep," he said, lifting the bottle so I could see it as proof.

"Awesome," I grinned at him.

He smiled back and his eyes trailed to my bare chest. "Gonne nip to the bathroom," he said, "Are you classing that as decent?" he asked. We didn't have an awning or anything on the side of the van so when he opened the sliding side door anyone wandering passed at that moment would potentially get a fairly good view of a half-naked 18-year-old girl. Half 9 was a late morning for most racers, and even though it was currently pissing it down we were camped in the middle of the busy paddock.

"Probably not," I grinned back at him pulling my arms against my chest to hide my nipples, "Chuck me that," I said pointing at my coat.

He threw me my coat, I caught it and knelt on the bed as I put it on. Zipping it up I stood up and straightened it down. "Okay," I said. He looked me up and down and shook his head. "What?" I said. I knew exactly what he shook his head at, the coat was a jacket and although it did cover my underwear, it didn't cover them by much, if anyone looked in they wouldn't see anything as such, but it was obvious I was only wearing the coat.

"Nothing," he replied as he opened the door and stepped out into the rain. He slid the door shut again and I heard him squelch across the grass.

I gave him a few seconds then took the coat off again. I slid my panties down and off as I searched through my bag for a clean pair. I was a natural dark brown, although I was totally shaved down there. I just preferred the look, it looked neater and cuter. I wasn't a virgin, I had slept with a couple of guys, nothing super serious although my last boyfriend was the first who I let cum in me with no condom as I was on the pill. As it happened though I wasn't the only girl who he was cumming with, so we finished and that was a couple of months ago now. I looked at the bed and for a second I considered getting into it again and playing with myself. With the best will in the world though it was unlikely I would have the time. I had been horny all weekend with no way of relieving myself as there was no privacy.

I found some panties and pulled them on and put my bra on. I threw on a vest and shorts and sat on the bed to eat my bacon sandwich. Five minutes later there was a soft tap at the door, "Only me," Dad said.

"Yeah, okay," I replied. We always knocked, it was just polite, I guess. To date though neither of us had ever said to not come in as there wasn't a lot you could be doing that had an innocent explanation. I am sure he knew that I did that sort of stuff. Being caught though without being physically caught would be super embarrassing though, and if he was doing it... ewww. I bet he does though.

I went for the race brief that was required and listened to the usual safety and track limits and all of that sort of stuff that was routine. There was nothing surprising that was said and after 30 minutes or so we were all dismissed. I had a quick chat with Laksh who raced in a few of the series during the weekend. He was nice, 27 years old, quite tall, short dark hair and a decent body. As most of them did during sunny races they walked around with their racing suit unzipped and around their waist. I did sometimes wish I was a guy as I slowly boiled in my suit and I always rejected their offer to "feel free" which was the politest way they knew of to ask a girl to "get her tits out."

I went back to the van and went inside. "All sorted?" Dad asked.

"Yep, the usual," I replied as I took my coat off, "Bike ready?"

"Yep, ready to roll," he replied, "Looks like a wet weekend so I will leave it set as wet for tomorrow as well." He looked at me with the 'I am sorry' eyes which I knew so well.

"Work?" I replied seeing his expression and reading between the lines.

"Yeah," he said, "Sorry."

"You gotta work," I replied, hiding my disappointment. Racing was our thing and I hated it when his work called him away over the weekend. It wasn't the same on my own, but it did happen and it was just one of those things.

"Ride safely love," he said as he kissed me on the cheek, "If you need a tire change for tomorrow... well you have tits, I am sure someone will do it for you."

"DAD!" I exclaimed, pushing him. He knew I hated it and that was exactly why he did it. "Is it okay to dry otherwise?"

"Yeah, you won’t have the turn in, but it will be competitive," he replied.

With that he left and slid the door behind him leaving me on my own. Not only was I now flying solo I also had to drive the van home myself. I am not sure what was worse. I didn't mind driving, and it was just a big car, well a fairly massive car, but it was still cumbersome and squishy and handled like... well like a van with a small house in the back of it.

It was 29 degrees Celsius outside and still raining hard by the time of the practice session. We didn't have any means of drying any clothes in the van, so wearing the least was always the best option. I checked the curtains were closed and stripped to my bra and panties. For a second I toyed with losing the bra and for a fraction of a second I considered fully nude under the racing suit. I was still horny and wished I had masturbated in the free hour that I had instead of just watching track TV of the other classes of racing. God forbid though, if I did fall off and hurt myself having my $1000 racing suit cut off would be very annoying. Having nothing underneath the suit would rub salt into the wounds.