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The Night Of The Amazing Race
by Suzie Wilcox (address withheld)

***

A story based on the TV game show, The Amazing Race. A 
girl abandon's her race partner for one night to shack 
up with a cute guy from another team. (MF, fan-fic, tv-
parody)

***

My best friend Brock and I had been fans of 'The 
Amazing Race' since the program had first started, back 
when we were in high school. While the show was airing, 
we'd often joked and fantasised about how we would work 
if we were ever a part of the contest ourselves. When 
we saw each other after each episode, we would joke 
about how we would do things differently. When another 
friend tipped us off that applications were being taken 
for the next season, we decided to have fun with our 
application. 

We sent in the required photograph and biographies, but 
didn't expect to hear from the company, considering how 
many contestant applications they must receive. We were 
shocked firstly when we were invited to initial 
interviews for the program, but when I answered the 
phone to Brock telling me we had been accepted on the 
show, I thought he must have been kidding around.

Luckily for me, he wasn't, and since then we had seen 
eleven teams of two whittled down to five as we drew 
closer to the final leg of the race. Although I was 
competing seriously, I knew that even if we were to 
lose in the next leg, I would still have been proud of 
my achievements with Brock, and satisfied with the 
experience. After all, how many people could say that 
they had abseiled down the Eiffel Tower, or ridden 
along a zip-line from the Tuscan cliff-tops to the 
impossibly blue ocean below?

Although the competition was usually at the forefront 
of my mind, I sometimes wondered how I would look on 
the television, once the tapes had been edited into 
neat, hour-long episodes. I thought I'd gotten along 
well with the other teams, and knew that I had even 
considered some of them friends. I wondered now if I 
would be edited to look like the bitches of past 
seasons, the teams who I had criticised. I found myself 
regretting idle remarks I made about others, for fear I 
may come off as more viciously competitive than I 
really was.

In reality, teams were all, generally, quite friendly 
with one another when the cameras weren't rolling, 
which was rare. Just what went on during the Pit-stops 
isn't broadcast, because any developing plot-lines of 
fighting between teams tended to fall into 
insignificance while we weren't racing. On more than a 
couple of occasions, I'd shared laughs and drinks with 
contestants who, I would find out later, were portrayed 
as my enemies on screen. 

Now, as we drew near the finish line, there were only 
five teams left as we settled into our Pit-stop, a 
windmill outside Amsterdam, where the majority of the 
leg had been run during the day. I was exhausted, but 
proud of coming second in this leg. Donnie and Lewis, 
the cousins from New York, had come in last place, and 
been sent home by Phil, the programme's host, who, 
although he rarely socialised with us during the twelve 
hours of down-time that was our pit-stops, I had come 
to also consider a friend, even if he was our 
adjudicator.

The windmill was different to other pit-stops, which 
had been motels and even fairly luxurious hotel rooms. 
There we'd enjoyed ourselves in the restaurants and 
bars with other teams before getting rest for the next 
leg. The windmill was cramped, with pairs of narrow 
single beds fitted where they could. I'm not sure if it 
was being confined to such close quarters, the fact 
that we were drawing nearer to the final round, or a 
combination of both, but teams were generally fairly 
restrained, and kept to themselves on this pit-stop.

'Julia?'

It was still dark when the voice drew me from my sleep. 
When my team mate, Brock, eventually came into focus, I 
tried to make out details in the rest of the room. It 
looked like Steve and Andrew, the team who had come in 
a fair way before us, had already left, as their beds 
were empty and bags gone.

'It's time to get ready,' Brock whispered.

When we crept downstairs to the communal, hostel-style 
bathroom facilities, Steve and Andrew were leaving, 
clean and ready for the next leg and to wait for the 
signal to open their clue outside and begin racing. 
Steve and Andrew, according to their biography and what 
I'd learned from our chats, were tradesmen from 
California. They'd been friends since high school, like 
Brock and I, and were around the same age, and a strong 
team. It was their physical strength that made them 
such difficult opponents to us, and I knew that other 
teams were underestimating their intelligence.

Andrew smiled at me when they rushed out the front 
door. 'Good luck today,' he said.

'You too,' I smiled back, and Brock also wished them 
luck.

While I was enjoying the warm water of the shower, I 
heard movement outside the stall.

'Brock?' I whispered over the divider into the shower 
stall next to my own. Brock said quietly that he had 
already heard the movement.

'Good morning!' he called out cheerfully.

'Good morning.' I recognised Stan's voice right away. 
'Early birds getting the worm?'

I wasn't sure if it was a joke or how to respond. 
Luckily, Brock responded and saved me trying to figure 
it out.

'We hope so!'

I heard quiet discussions outside the door of my 
shower, but over the water, couldn't make them out. I 
figured it was Stan, the oldest entrant in this Race, 
talking with his team mate, his 21 year old grandson 
Will. After the first few legs of the race, a few 
people had doubted the team's ability, due to Stan's 
age, but I deduced it was the combination of Stan's 
worldliness and Will's intelligence and physical 
strength that had made them such a strong team. 
Besides, the teams who had thought Stan and Will would 
be easy to defeat had been left behind long ago.

Even thought we'd allowed plenty of time to get ready, 
I felt rushed by the fact that the next team was so 
close to us. I hurried myself in the shower, and dried 
myself off and wrapped a towel around myself while 
still in the cubical. When I opened the door I first 
saw a man's back, wearing only a towel wrapped around 
his waist. It was Will, and he was standing at the 
basin, shaving. I caught his eye in the mirror 
momentarily.

'Oh,' I stammered. 'I'm sorry.'

He turned around to look at me without the aid of the 
mirror, and with most of his face still covered in 
shaving cream, said 'That's ok! Don't worry about it.' 
Will was quite strong, with clearly defined, if not 
large, pectoral and arm muscles in clear sight to me 
now. Although all the teams had been living in fairly 
close quarters, I hadn't yet seen Will in this light, 
and oddly felt a little nervous for some reason. 'Did 
you see Steve and Andrew this morning?'

I heard Brock's voice answer the question, and realised 
for the first time that he was also out of the shower 
and at one of the two other basins and mirrors, in the 
corner, brushing his teeth and similarly clad in just a 
towel. I figured Will's grandfather must have been in 
the shower I could hear running. Brock explained that 
the first team had left the bathroom just as we'd 
entered, while I grabbed the pile of clothes I'd 
selected for the start of today's leg from the shelf in 
the corner.

'No peeking, you two,' I said, ducking into a dark 
corner of the bathroom where I was sure they couldn't 
see me anyway. As I went around the corner to dress, I 
saw Brock and Will exchange a sly glance, and wondered 
what it meant.

Once I'd brushed my teeth and made myself pretty for at 
least the start of the race leg, Brock and I waited for 
the clock to tick around to our starting time beside 
the clue box outside the windmill. As soon as time 
came, I tore open the yellow envelope, and smiled 
broadly at what I saw. We were headed for Switzerland! 
I told Brock excitedly, and we jogged to the small, 
nearby village and found the one open business – a gas 
station. The owner didn't seem too startled by the 
camera following us, and I guessed it was because Steve 
and Andrew had already passed by this way. It didn't 
take too much persuasion for the man behind the counter 
to call us a taxi, and soon we were on our way to the 
airport.

The ticketing desks were just opening when we arrived, 
and I made a beeline for Steve and Andrew, who, with 
their own camera, stuck out in the bare terminal. 
Obviously, they wouldn't tell us how they were 
travelling, and we walked quickly past them to the 
first desk we saw. It turned out that we were on the 
same flight as them, shortly later, and, we found out 
when they boarded only moments before the doors were 
closed, so were Stan and Will. I tried to construct 
tactics in my mind, but the best I could do was to draw 
a ladder of where we sat in my mind. 

I knew the teams we were effectively even with. That 
left two more teams unaccounted for, but I knew that 
they would have left the hotel around an hour after 
Stan and Will and we had, in close succession. Those 
teams were Lily and Paul, a couple in their late 20s 
from Boston who had been, since the third leg, visibly 
dysfunctional. The slightest hick-up in their race 
would start the pair fighting, and I'd overhear their 
mandatory interview at the end of a leg, in which they 
had admitted that they were unsure about the status of 
their relationship, and were now in this solely for the 
$1,000,000 prize. 

Following closely behind them was Monica and Steph, 
cheerleaders who, although I felt myself laughing at 
internally, I had come to be good friends with. They 
could always be relied upon to make humorously 
inaccurate observations of the landmarks we passed, but 
they were good people, even though they'd come under 
criticism for using a U-Turn early in the game, which 
ultimately led to another team being eliminated.

The flight was short, and after we touched down, we 
were last to get a taxi from the airport to the train 
station, but luckily caught up with the other two teams 
there. Once we got off the train, there were marked 
cars waiting at the station to take us to our first 
Roadblock clue, and the three teams drove more or less 
in convoy, arriving at about the same time. 

'Who can take the cold?' the clue asked. Brock and I 
looked at each other, unsure what to make of such a 
hint. 'I'll do it,' Brock stated, and I'm sure he took 
it because he knew how I felt the cold. Even cold 
mornings during winter were too much for me. 'Good 
luck,' I told him, and he ran in the direction that 
Andrew had only moments earlier, and was followed 
shortly after by Will.

When I heard what the Roadblock task had been, I was 
glad Brock had offered to complete it, simply because I 
would have been no match for Andrew and Will, who were 
much stronger than me. They had to paddle themselves 
along a rough stretch of rapids going through the alps 
in a rubber dinghy. Stan, Steve and I stood on the 
bridge, a short distance from where we'd picked up the 
clue, and waited to see who would finish first, or if 
other teams would arrive. I'll admit, the conversation 
here, while we were actually racing was awkward.

Andrew was the first to splash underneath us on the 
rough water, and let out a 'Woooo!' as he passed by. 
Although it looked like fun, and I clapped for him, I 
felt tense, hoping Brock would be soon after. I clapped 
again when Will drifted by, calling something 
indecipherable up at us, but I also bit my lip. Brock 
had left after Andrew, but before Will, and I wondered 
how he had ended up behind. I hoped the rapids weren't 
proving too much of a challenge for him.

Grinning, Andrew soon ran up the path from the landing 
pier, unzipping the wetsuit teams had been provided for 
the challenge and passing the latest clue to his team 
mate to rip open and read with dry hands. I tried to 
hear what they were saying, but made out nothing, and 
before I knew it Andrew had the wetsuit opened to his 
waist, and his tanned back was jogging away from me to 
his marked car, and, hopefully, a towel. Although I'd 
been cheering Brock on in an earlier task that he'd 
competed in the Caribbean, searching for a hidden clue 
in the warm water, I had been stealing glances at 
Andrew's muscled physique as he dove in and out of the 
water.

Stan cheered as Will ran in his dripping wetsuit 
towards us. I half-heartedly clapped, and watched them 
run to their car and dry clothes and the rest of the 
race, and leaned on the side of the bridge, waiting for 
Brock to drift by. I tried to be friendly and bury my 
frustration as first Monica and Steph, and then Lily 
and Paul arrived and started the challenge. I was 
pleased though, when Brock passed by underneath the 
bridge a moment later, and smiled down to him as he 
looked up. If nothing else, he looked to be genuinely 
having fun with the rapids task. 

When he ran towards me in his dripping wetsuit, I 
snatched the yellow clue envelope away from him, and 
ushered him towards the car. We were headed for a small 
town nearby, and I located it quickly on the map. As 
Brock dried himself and changed in the back seat, I 
shoved the map back, pointing out where we were now, 
and where we needed to get to. After confirming he knew 
where we were going, Brock leaned forward to speak to 
me over the back seat, the camera man next to him 
zooming in.

'I'm sorry,' he said to me. 'They were too strong for 
me. That water was really rough. I tried…'

'You did really well,' I smiled at him in the rear-view 
mirror. 'I'm so proud of you.'

Compared to the windmill that was our last Pit-stop, 
the hotel we were in for the Germany stop was 
luxurious. We were back to private rooms, to everyone's 
delight. After dinner, Brock went to bed early, and I 
found Stan and Will in the lounge attached to the bar, 
talking quietly while a news broadcast in German played 
softly on the TV behind them. We made idle conversation 
about our favourite sites so far, until Paul came 
noisily into the room. I hadn't seen Lily since dinner, 
and the cheerleaders had been sent home in tears after 
finishing in a close last place.

'Anyone up for a game of pool?' he asked. I thought he 
held his eyes on me longer than the two men I was with, 
but he seemed satisfied enough when Stan stood up, and 
said 'I can't say no to that!' The pair went into the 
other room, and I heard the clatter of billiard balls 
right away.

'So I've been wondering…' Will said once we were alone, 
a twinge of nervousness in his voice. 'You and Brock… 
are you, like… um…' He was stammering like a nervous 
school boy.

'We're just friends,' I helped him out. 'If that's what 
you were wondering.'

'Oh,' Will responded, nodding slightly. 'Cool.' There 
was a brief, slightly uncomfortable pause, which Will 
thankfully broke. 'Oh, wow. Where are my manners 
tonight? I haven't offered you a drink. Would you like 
something?'

I laughed at him a little, and told him I would just 
have one, and he shortly returned from the bar with a 
beer for himself and cocktail for me. 'Is this how you 
get an edge on girls in the Race?' I smiled at him. 
'Leave them feeling hung over in the morning?'

He seemed to miss the joke at first, making a series of 
defensive mutterings, before noticing my smile. We only 
had a couple of drinks, over which we discussed life in 
what teams had come to call 'the real world,' that is, 
what we did at home from the race. Will told me about 
his studies at college, in IT, that he would be 
returning to after the Race, and I told him that I had 
recently graduated a marketing degree and was now 
looking for work. 

Although Will was shy on his own, he was quite charming 
and polite, kind of in an old fashioned way. He said 
that although he lived with his parents, he and his 
grandfather had always been close, and I wondered if 
Stan's old-world mentalities had rubbed off on him. I 
knew I needed rest to be on the ball in the morning, 
and thanked Will for the drinks. 'I'll pay you back 
when I win the million!' I joked.

'You wish!' he said, 'But you can come to the party I 
have in the house I'LL buy with MY million dollars! I 
should go to bed too, though,' he decided, and let his 
grandfather know what he was doing and said goodnight 
to Paul. Stan said that he would be up after the game, 
and Paul objected, asking for one more after. 'We'll 
see,' said Stan. 'I'm old, you know. I need my rest.'

I felt a little tipsy from the two drinks I'd had, but 
certainly not drunk as we climbed the stairs to the 
rooms, and stumbled a little towards the top. Will 
caught me, and it wasn't until we got to his door, the 
first of the team rooms, that I realised he'd been 
holding my hand ever since.

'You must think I get drunk so easily,' I said, looking 
away and finally taking back my hand.

'No,' Will said, trying to catch my eye. 'That was just 
an accident on the stairs.'

'Well,' I said, feeling awkward myself now. 'Thank you 
for the drinks.'

I kissed him on the cheek, and Will seemed taken aback 
for a moment, before he leaned in towards me, as though 
requesting another kiss. I faced him, and our lips met, 
and we kissed passionately outside his room's door. I 
went with the feeling, but, honestly, this was 
incredibly unexpected. I was sure I'd been obviously 
flirting with Andrew, and wondered if anything might 
happen between us, and hadn't even considered Will, 
though I thought he was cute.

'Sorry,' he said, after the kiss was mutually broken 
away from. I told him not to be, and, as though to 
prove my point, leaned in for another kiss. Without 
speaking, Will unlocked his room's door. 'Would you…' 
he started a question nervously, and I saved him from 
finding the right words by stepping into the room 
myself. He pushed the door closed behind himself.

I sat on the bed beside the window, and looked over my 
shoulder, as Will walked towards me. 'This hotel has 
the most incredible view,' I said, looking out the 
window, legitimately impressed.

'I don't know,' Will said. 'I like the view from where 
I am.'

I looked up, and laughed at his cheesy line when I 
realised he was looking directly at me. I patted the 
bed next to me, and Will obediently sat. He put an arm 
around me and we kissed again, for longer this time, 
and he manoeuvred me around into a lying position on 
the bed underneath him. I pushed his shirt off and ran 
my hands over the smooth stomach I'd admired in the 
bathroom in a different time zone the day prior. At the 
same time, his hands were probing under my tank-top, 
and I sat up to help him out and lift it off, pushing 
him back down onto his back as I did so, and kneeling 
above his lying form. 

Taking control, I unclipped his belt buckle and pulled 
down his jeans, letting my hand brush against the 
erection beneath his underwear as I did. When I tossed 
away the jeans, he reached up behind me and, after a 
few failed attempts, unclipped my bra. It fell loose 
and I tossed it aside. Will reached up with one big 
hand and spread it around my breast, just holding it 
for a while, before letting his fingers focus on a 
nipple. I breathed heavily as he ran his fingers around 
its edge, then traced one finger slowly down my body, 
until he found the edge of my jeans. He traced around 
to the zipper, and I undid it myself, and pushed the 
jeans off.

I lay on top of him now, both of us only wearing our 
underpants, and felt his protrusion against me, 
straining to be released from his boxer shorts. I ran a 
hand over his firm chest, noticing for the first time a 
sparse patch of fine, dark hair that I hadn't noticed 
before. I ran my fingers through it, as he sneaked one 
of his own into the leg of my underpants, and crept 
around inside. With little room to explore, he finally 
tugged on the pants, and I lifted myself from him a 
little, allowing him to drag the underpants off me. 

Will kissed my mouth passionately as he let a finger 
snake through my fine hair into my waiting lips below. 
I must have already been quite wet just from making out 
here with him, but I felt incredibly excited as Will's 
finger circled my opening. The circling motion morphed 
into an in-and-out motion incorporating more fingers, 
and I couldn't help but find myself breathing too 
heavily to continue the kiss. I'd experienced orgasms 
before, but never simply from a guy's fingers. I'd 
brought myself on and experienced it during sex, but 
never just from the touch of another, so it was 
unexpected when I came then and there.

I shuddered as Will withdrew his fingers, and he ran 
the fingers of his other hand through my hair as I 
rested my head on his broad chest, catching my breath. 
I could still feel his penis pressing firmly against 
me, wedged between our bodies as I lay on top of him, 
but he hadn't yet complained. I pressed a hand between 
our bodies, running over the ridges of his abs, and 
letting a finger run around his navel, then through the 
soft hair of his happy-trail. I followed it down until 
I reached the elastic of his waistband. I stopped 
briefly there, then flattened my palm and fingers to 
creep underneath, feeling the trail widen and thicken. 

Soon my fingers stopped at the base of his shaft, and I 
noticed Will was staring at my eyes. I looked into his 
as I used one finger to trace around him, cupping his 
balls in my hand. I massaged his scrotum lightly, then 
dragged a finger along the length of his shaft, causing 
him to breath in slowly, and hold it. He gasped a 
little as my finger passed onto the sensitive head at 
the end. 

I let the finger circle the tip and he closed his eyes. 
I took this as a cue to use my free hand to pull at the 
waistband of his underwear and, eyes still shut, he 
lifted his hips a little to make the task easy. 
Underneath, Will looked big to me, certainly bigger 
than any guy I'd been with before, and I took him in 
hand. I wrapped my fist around him, and worked it 
slowly up and down, studying his responses.

His eyes finally opened, and looked straight at me. 
Neither of us spoke, but Will's breathing turned heavy 
as I tightened my grip on him slightly, and quickened 
my strokes. Finally he whispered something that might 
have been my name, and I shuffled down to kiss the tip 
of his cock, still pumping the shaft in my hand. When I 
felt the first drops of his release on my lips, I 
pushed my mouth around him, and he shot once, then 
twice, then three and four times into my mouth. I'd 
never enjoyed giving fellatio, but dutifully did to 
past lovers, and now found that I was relishing in 
watching the effect this had had on Will's body. I ran 
my eyes from my current vantage point up his body, 
watching him panting heavily.

When Will's breaths started to slow down, I crawled 
back up the bed, and he put his arms around me, holding 
me close. He whispered my name, but otherwise said 
nothing, just moving his hands slowly up and down my 
back. At one point, I thought I heard the door open, 
and looked over. It could have been Stan's silhouette 
in the doorway. Perhaps he'd seen us and left hoping to 
return at a less awkward moment. More likely it was 
just a second of paranoia. There was, after all, a 
million dollars at stake. Meanwhile, while I was 
thinking of the Race, Will was running his hands more 
firmly along my back, making longer and longer stops to 
caress my ass. At the same time, I could feel him 
getting hard again beneath me.

I sat up to get a better look, and, with his hands 
around my hips, I held and massaged Will's penis, 
felling it growing harder in my hand, perhaps harder 
than it had been before. Looking from where I was at 
this handsome, muscular guy, I also felt incredibly 
turned on. I leaned back down to kiss him, and while I 
was there, felt Will guiding himself gently into my 
pussy. Once he entered, he gently and smoothly 
completed the penetration, and I gasped when he was all 
the way in, further than any guy I'd been with. 

For a moment, I just enjoyed the feeling of closeness 
with Will that I had right then, but was also wary that 
he needed to enjoy himself too. I lifted myself slowly 
away from Will, until I thought he would fall out of 
me, then brought myself firmly down on him again. It 
didn't take long until we found a rhythm and our bodies 
were moving in a fluid motion with each other. 

I knew it wouldn't be long until Stan came through the 
door, wanting to go to sleep, but I wanted to savour 
the time I had with his grandson. Will pulled me firmly 
towards him, and I felt his warm release within me, at 
the same time as I felt myself tighten, and shudders of 
pleasure ran up and down my spine.

We held each other close for only a moment before I sat 
up.

'I need to go and get some rest,' I said. Will simply 
nodded. At the end of the day, this was a competition. 
'Good luck tomorrow,' I said as I kissed his forehead, 
and quickly dressed. He said the same thing as I left 
the room.

Brody stirred when I crept quietly into our room, but 
didn't seem to wake. I tried to force myself to sleep, 
and was awake for longer than I would have liked to 
have been. Who knew what challenges would await us the 
next day?

It turned out to be a flight to India, where we 
struggled to communicate with taxi drivers, and had 
trouble with a Road Block. In the end, we came last, 
but neither Brody or I shed tears when Phil said 'I'm 
sorry to tell you, you have both been eliminated from 
the Race.' I wasn't sure how hearing those words would 
feel, but was impressed that I could see the experience 
for the series of friends, unforgettable sights, and 
the incredible adventure it was.

After we were flown home, we were invited to return to 
the Race, to the finish line in Seattle, where all the 
teams were. It was great to see them, and discuss the 
Race and how things were going in 'real life.' We 
didn't have long, however, before the crew told us that 
the first team was drawing near. I held my breath as 
the team with the best view started cheering, and 
literally jumped for joy when I saw first Will, then 
his grandfather Stan climbing the hill towards the 
finish line. Will jumped triumphantly onto the 
trademark Amazing Race doormat to see Phil, and hugged 
his grandfather. They knew. I thought that Will 
directed a smile at me, but couldn't imagine what must 
have been going through his mind as Phil summarised 
their Race, concluding with 'Stan and Will, you are 
team number one!'

Will had promised a party at the mansion he would buy 
with his winnings, and it wasn't until months later 
that a voice on the end of my telephone that I didn't 
recognise at first said 'Julia? It's Will.'

I thought he was announcing the party, which was 
exciting enough, but I am not ashamed to say that I 
giggled at what he finally said to me.

'Would you like to maybe go out for a coffee with a 
millionaire?'

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 58