Pit Crew
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

When a big motor racing fan learns that his sister will be part of a girls only “pit crew” with a ring side view of all the races over the season, he decides to join the girls.

Riley Jones was my best friend. We did a lot together. We played sport at school. We skateboarded after school. We sometimes skateboarded when we should have been at school. And we both loved motor racing.

Both of our rooms were plastered with IndyCar posters, as well as F1 and other open wheel racers. We lived for motorsport and dreamed of being involved, somehow.

Riley got his chance and took it. After years of both of us writing in to join the junior pit crew on several teams, Riley’s sister got selected. She had teased Riley that she could get on a team, and sure enough only the second letter she sent got her a position. I guess it was the photo of her in the bikini wearing Riley’s Indycar cap that got her the job.

Riley was furious, but his sister simply told him that he could go instead, if he could pass for her. She was not interested in motorsport. She just wanted to show Riley how easy things were if you were a girl.

“Every guy is a sucker for a pretty girl,” she said. “And motor racing is full of guys.”

So Riley went in her place. She helped to get him ready and he was able to spend the 18 days at the track as a girl. We did not know how he did it. Of course he did not tell his friends that he went as a girl. All we knew was that at the end of summer he was back and fizzing about the experience.

“And the good news is”, he said, “next year you can come.”

But how? He told me what he had done. He had pretended to be a girl and I had to dress as a girl too. He had his sisters ID and he had the Race pass for another girl who turned up but did not stay. I didn’t think that I looked anything like her, but Riley said that I shouldn’t worry. All they cared about is that whoever turned up needed to look good and be willing to get involved.

Of course I was ready to do it. Riley had lived our dream for a whole three weeks. I wanted that too. How hard could it be? If he had done it, I could too.

So the only thing that I had to do was to not cut my hair over winter and Riley also suggested that I take the skin softening tablets that he had bought over the internet. He said that the pills would be a big help in passing as a girl. They certainly seemed to have an effect on my skin. My pimples cleared up and the skin was more soft to the touch. The only problem was sensitivity around my nipples, but Riley said that was a side effect. He was taking them too and he felt the same irritation.

The other thing that we worked on was our voices and some “girlish” behavior. Riley and I got together and watched chick flicks to pick up the movements and the giggles. We had great fun together being Rachael (Riley did not use his sister’s name) and Chrissie (that’s me). Sometimes we would sneak a girlish titter together with our friends. It would really freak them out. I did have a couple of embarrassing incidents where I was seen flicking my hair or putting it behind my ear in an unmistakably girlish way. It was just becoming almost second nature.

Initially I did not tell my family what I was doing. But I told my mother and my two older brothers well ahead of the race day. She told me that I was crazy and she worried that what we were doing was not honest, but she knew how much being in the pit crew meant to me, so she agreed to the time off. However, she did say that my second oldest brother Ben, should go with me if he could get in. He was quite keen on motor racing as well (not as keen as me) and was happy to get the entry ticket if he didn’t have to pay. He thought the whole thing was a huge joke. I don’t even think he thought I could pass for a girl.

So a few days before we were to leave town and just after school was out for summer, Riley arranged for us both to have a makeover. The first thing that I did was head around to Riley’s place and we went up to his room. He told me to take off my shirt and he checked my nipples and squeezed the flesh on my chest. For the first time I noticed that the flesh was swelling. I had small breasts!

“Don’t worry,” said Riley. “it’s nothing permanent.” He then took off his shirt and I was surprised to see that underneath he was wearing like a bandage all the way round. And when he unwound it a pair of breasts fell free, wobbling on his chest. Bigger than what I had.

“This is crazy,” I said. “What have we done to ourselves?”

“Last year I had nothing, and I had to stay in tee-shirts all through” said Riley. “That’s not what the guys want. With what we have now and a little padding underneath we can wear crop tops! You have almost as much as me and I have been on hormones all year.”

Hormones? Of course. The skin softening tablets were female hormones. And what did “That’s not what the guys want” mean? Well sure, I knew that the female pit crew were not there as mechanics, but we were certainly not swimsuit models. I was starting to feel very uncertain.

“Look”, said Riley sensing my discomfort. “We have to pass as girls for three weeks. I got away with it last year by staying low. I missed out on a lot. I am prepared this time. We are both prepared, you and me. We can be in everything. We are going to have the time of our lives.”

So we changed into the girls clothes that Riley had arranged, and with his sister leading the way we went to the salon on Geary Street for the makeover. We were sat side by side and given facial treatments. This included removing any hint of whiskers on our barely pubescent faces,

Then we had or hair extensions woven in – brunette for Riley and blonde for me. As Riley explained Chrissie was a blonde and I was using her ID to show that I was of age, and taking her place on the pit crew. So it was only after the extensions had been woven in that the rest of my hair was colored to get the right shade. Riley and I both ended up in curlers and under the driers.

We had our eyebrows painfully plucked and then we were given eyelash extensions and “semi-permanent” eyeliner. Riley said it would last out the 3 weeks – and it certainly did that. He said the eyebrows would grow back before we went back to school. Maybe for him as he had indistinct eyebrows, but for me the plucking and eyelashes completely changed my appearance. Even without any further make up I looked like a girl. In the same state Riley could have been either sex.

We had our fingernails and toenails done. Riley said we would be doing some work so long nails were not on, but our nails were shaped and colored according to the color palette applying (whatever that means). Riley’s sister then took us through the makeup options – day wear, evening make up, beach party make up – all using the palette suited to us. We each received a bag of the required materials to take away.

As it was getting late we went for the “weekday evening” look, with mascara and light touches to the eyes and cheeks. We both looked gorgeous. I was stunned. Riley was right. Nobody would guess we were not girls. We were girls.

My mother almost fainted and both of my brothers were chins on the floor amazed. I gave a little twirl so that the floral sundress I was wearing could flare out. I did a little pose with my hand under my chin. I thought that the look on their faces was the funniest I had ever seen.

My mother gathered herself, and said: “My biggest concern was that you would be attacked for wearing girl’s clothes, but I don’t think anybody could mistake you for a boy. Now my concern is that you will not have boys hitting you, they’ll be hitting on you.” She turned to Ben to ensure that he was listening.

“I know, I know,” said Ben. “You’re telling me I have a sister to look after.”

“You’ve never had a sister before,” said my mother. “Just make sure she comes back in one piece.”

Did she just say “she”? Perhaps from now on we should…

So Ben drove us to the race-way in his car, a journey that took all day. Rachael sat in the front seat beside him and played it up the whole way. She stroked his arm. Begged him to stop to look in a women’s shoe shop, and even asked him to buy her ice cream. Ben was in good spirits and laughing his way through it. As we got to the raceway for registration he even allowed Racheal and I to hang of each of his arms as he walked in. A young man with two pretty teenage girls, one on each arm. So funny.

Registration was about getting the race teams together and collecting accommodation and raceway passes. Rachel and I were assigned a shared cabin and received pit crew passes with almost access to the track. To my surprise Ben as my brother was given a raceway pass as well. He was even given a function pass to that night’s team get-together. I was very happy to have him along.

I was very surprised when one young man came up to Rachael and said: “Hi Riley! Great to see you back babe. Where are you staying? Are you coming tonight? Make time for me, OK?” He was all over her. She just nodded and giggled. It was like some girl spell had been cast over her.

“Why did he call you Riley?” I asked. “I thought you were here as your sister, Rachael.”

“Oh that’s Brett,” said Rachael. “He knows all about me. He’s the only one who does, OK. Keep it quiet.”

“So he knows you’re not a girl? He certainly doesn’t act that way. He acts like you’re an old girlfriend!”

“He doesn’t mind a girl with something extra,” said Rachael, to my total amazement. Who was this person?

We went to our room and Rachael pulled out something for us to wear to the function. Firstly we put on our gaffs and panties, and then our push bras with the “chicken fillet” inserts. I was surprised to see how the little bit of breast tissue I had developed could be pushed into a cleavage, enhanced with a little blusher vertically down the middle. Rachael was going for something bigger in the bust, and had a knit mini dress to show off all the curves she had been developing for a year. I had a revealing top and a tight waist but otherwise loose and not overly short dress.

We straightened and spayed each other’s hair and brushed it out. We freshened our makeup with Rachael adding a bit of drama to her eyeliner. We were checked ourselves out. We were outrageously good looking. Rachael was pleased and so was I. You put that much effort in, you see the end result and you know it will please others – you feel good. It is like baking a great cake and serving it up.

When we arrived at the function Rachael and I met up with the other three girls on our team. They were all pretty but no more pretty than the two boys in their midst. Two of the three were a lot more curvy. All five of us soon found ourselves surrounded by men, flirting without shame.

Ben came over with a group of guys. He was a natural mixer and had got to know the technology team. One immediately came forward to introduce himself: “I’m Matt Henschel, S&S specialist. When this guy told me that he was the brother of the best-looking lady in the room, I had to insist he introduce me.”

“Consider yourself introduced, Matt”, I said, with a coquettishness that was more instinctive than practiced. “So I guess S&S is suspension and steering?”

“Wow,” exclaimed Matt, “not just pretty, but a motorsport enthusiast.”

“I had hoped I wouldn’t be here just as eye candy,” I complained. “I had hoped I could be on a team like yours. Tweaking things during the race. Making a difference. Adding speed.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Matt. You girls just carry the drinks around usually, but I am sure I could take one of you into our tent.”

So when a man is interested in a girl and wants to know all about her, what can a girl say if that girl is not a girl? Quite a lot as it turns out. You just get in character and you start talking. But when I could steer the conversation onto motor racing it was like we were the only two people in the room.

It was very late when Matt escorted me home to my hostel. There was an awkward moment on the doorstep. I had to break it with a kiss on the cheek. I could see he was disappointed, so I whispered: “We’ve only just getting started.” I am not quite sure what I meant by that. I hoped that I was not leading him on. He was just such a nice guy.

When I got into our room I could see that there was somebody in bed with Rachael! I snuck into my own bed as quietly as I could but before I could sleep I heard activity.

“I’m ready again baby,” it was Brett’s voice.

I heard a girlish giggle and then Rachael said: “Just a sec. I need more lube.”

I then heard the unmistakable sound of sex. The slapping of hips on buttocks. The slurping of an oiled passage being worked. Brett’s grunts. Rachael’s sighs. Then joint gasps, then squeals. More giggles. Attempts to stay quiet. The rustle of Kleenex. My friend Riley was gay.

I said it to him flatly in the morning, but he denied it: “I’m not gay,” he said. “While I am here I want to have fun – girl-type fun. Brett can get me to the track and all the events, including the parties. He likes me. He just likes to do me sometimes. But only as Rachael.”

At that point, my brother Ben walked up, just picking up the tail of the conversation.

“I can’t understand how you can be with that guy,” said Ben.

Rachael spun around at looked at Ben accusingly: “Would you have sex with me then?” It was more an accusation than a question. In that moment Rachael looked ferocious and as sexy as hell.

“I would love to have sex with you Rachael,” gaped Ben, clearly taken by surprise. “But not anal sex with a boy. I couldn’t do that. I am not against homosexuals, it’s just that I’m not one. If you were a woman down there I would make love to you … no, I would love you. As a man loves a woman. If you were one.”

Rachael started to cry. “can’t you see, I want to be one.”

I hugged my friend. I had no idea that Riley was transgender, but I knew I had to be there to offer support. Ben walked off confused and embarrassed. I somehow knew that things would never be the same again, for any of us.

Ben did his best after that, to escort Rachael and keep Brett away from her. That meant fewer parties but more time with the team. In fact, all the teams avoided parties during race days, saving up for the final big party at the end.

I was almost forgotten about. I was invited by Matt to work in his S&S crew watching to the monitors and coordinating with the brake and tire teams. Racing at this level is very complicated and each crew has a role to play just as much as the driver in the car. This is what I lived for. I was not here for the parties or the sex. I was interested in the cars.

But it was also clear that Matt was interested in me. It was a revelation that my brother was interested in Rachael, but only as a girl. And that Rachael wanted to be a girl. There might be a future for them. But Matt could have no future with me. Should I tell him? As it turned out it was not necessary so long as racing was on. He was a professional and I worked on his team. He would keep it friendly but not intimate, right up until our team won the race.

We were all crazy with excitement. We were all jumping around and hugging one another. I saw Matt on the other side of the tent look at me, and then come towards me. He took me in his arms and kissed me. Right on the lips with tongue and everything. He said nothing. He just kissed me. I felt the passion like a bolt of lightning. I just surrendered to him. And then to stop him escaping I put my hand behind his head and pulled him towards me. My little girly tongue played with his. I had kissed girls before but this was something new. In that moment, all I wanted was to be his.

Well. When he finally broke off and smiled at me with those sparkling blue eyes enchanting me … what to do now? So much for not being nothing like Rachael. At that moment I wanted to be a girl the same as Rachael did.

We went to the after party as two couples, Ben and Rachael and Matt and myself. Somehow, I knew that there would be no sex that night, not for me anyway. I still had a secret taped up between my legs.

After the party, the four of us went for a late snack at the all night diner.

“Chrissie, I’m not sure if I can wait until next year to see you,” said Matt. He gave me his email and insisted that send him a message at least once a week. The parting was romantic but tearful. I swore to him that I would stay in touch, and I did.

Riley never went back to school after the summer break, Rachael did. Ben was right there with her throughout the transition and the surgeries. I was too. Right alongside her. The same gurney on two successive days. We both needed parental permission, but with the support of my brother Ben, and Riley’s sister, together we won over both sets of parents.

Of course, I had to tell Matt after the surgery. I was a little cruel and told him over Skype while he was in Europe. I told him that I was a woman, but I had not always been one. I was infertile, that was all. I could be a wife but not a natural mother. I understood if that disqualified me from being his woman.

Some days of silence followed, but deep down I knew that we were too much in love for a little reproductive biology to stand in our way. When he called back I wanted him right then and there. I had healed by the time he got to town. I met him at the airport. It was like the best romantic movie ever made. We saw one another at a distance. He rushed towards me. He dropped his bag and held me up off my feet. Corny maybe, but that is how it went.

What followed must have been the best love making scene ever made. In the car he could not keep his hands off me. There was a trail of clothes from the front door to my bedroom. He was on me and in me in a whirlwind of heat and passion. When I felt his seed enter me I wailed like a woman possessed. I was. He possesses me still.

It was a real family thing when Ben and Rachael got married. It was a double wedding our oldest brother and Rachael’s older sister. Later she was to surrogate for Rachael and Ben’s twins. Two bouquets were thrown. Matt caught one and I caught the other. It seems some things are just destined to happen.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2017