In the Long Run
Copyright© 2024 by The Horse With No Name
Chapter 67: Green Hell
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 67: Green Hell - Mark and Lydia hit a lot of bumps during the cold war and fate eventually brings them to the other side of the globe, but even there the challenges don't end. This is the founding story of my planned "It's always the Germans" universe, which will be created when this story reaches the year 1998.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Sports Incest Mother Son Light Bond Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Oral Sex Pegging Petting Nudism
Mark
Normally August was a slow month. The big cycling races were either over or yet to come in September and October. It was the time when people had their holidays. For us, August would be very busy this year.
We had the Idiotarod in Pasadena coming up, then Meri’s farewell race and in between or beforehand we had to find some time for Nadja to learn the Nürburgring-Nordschleife, the world’s most fearsome racetrack. Now a certified racing driver she had wheedled a seat in one of the cars of Jonjo’s team for next year’s 24h of Nürburgring race, but that required her to acquire a special permit. In essence she had to finish at least two of the shorter 4-hour or six-hour VLN races at the same track.
That left her two races in late September and mid-October and three in the spring next year to achieve that. Since spring was usually too busy in her cycling schedule, we had decided to try and do it this year.
“Topless brainstorming!” I announced, and like always everyone instinctively looked around if Jenny was anywhere near. Well, she wasn’t, because she was away for the first race weekend since her reduction in success ballast. Femke, who had delivered Jonjo and Bea to accompany Jenny to the races, had of course used the opportunity to stay with us over the weekend. All shirts and Bras came off.
“Nice,” I said appreciatively and popped open a beer. “Now, I’ve spoken to Jonjo. We could book the Nordschleife for an entire day, but we can still not go on it with racing cars. That would take over a hundred marshals and then we would be talking about a million bucks or more.”
“We could use our bikes,” Nadja offered. “It would be a nice extra training.”
“Aren’t you missing something?” Femke asked. “I don’t know her as well as you, but I can’t imagine that Jenny would be best pleased if you visit the world’s most famous race track without her. And if we go slow enough for her to follow us, it won’t be much of a training session.”
“I could go slow enough and stay with her,” Meri offered. “I’ve retired now, so it won’t be a loss for me, and frankly, don’t underestimate how fit that kid is. In fact I would be more worried whether Mark can follow Jenny. He’s not used to sitting on a bike for a long time.”
“She’s been training on a bike?” Femke asked, obviously surprised.
“Yep, we have a smaller one on the roll, just for her,” Lydia said. “With all the hype around Schumacher and his fitness regime, she has been almost obsessive in being as fit as she could be.”
“And it saves her from failing PE,” Regina added with a chuckle. “She’s completely hopeless in all the girly sports – gymnastics – not hers. But give her a ball to throw or ask her to run three thousand meters and she creams the lot. In May her school sent her to do the cross-country run around Hosena, and she won the county championship.”
“Why not use the roller skis instead?” Nadja suggested. “Lydia, Femke and I can use all the practice we can get and it should be slow enough for Jenny and Mark to keep up, and even if not, she has Mark and Meri with her.”
“You do realize that this track is over twenty kilometers long?” I asked. “Even on a bike your average cycling race wouldn’t amount to more than six or seven laps. And you’ll certainly need more than one or two laps to learn that track.”
“Jenny won’t,” Regina chimed in. “She has seen every racing video ever created since she was four. I’m pretty sure she knows that thing already. She’ll be happy enough doing just one lap on the real thing. That means you can do one or two laps on your skis and then switch to bikes.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Meri agreed. “Two laps on skis should be more than enough as a training session. Then you can take a break, perhaps get a massage from our resident hunk, and then go for a few more laps on the bikes.”
“Right, good idea,” Femke supplied and opened a beer for herself.
“Speaking of resident hunk,” Lydia said. “Now that we’ve all unpacked our tits, you gonna play with them or what?”
I grinned and waved her to come over. She smiled as she sat down in my lap, facing me, and offered me the goodies.
“Please form an orderly queue ladies,” Regina quipped as I started licking Lydia’s nipples.
Femke
Our veritable convoy rolled into the parking lot of the Nürburgring a week later. The sunny weather of the last two weeks had given way to cloudy skies, but it didn’t look like that meant rain. For us that was a win-win, especially Mark of course. The hot weather of the previous days had meant none of us had worn much, if anything, which allowed us cyclists to catch some sunlight to battle the ridiculous tan lines we had.
Now though, for what was shaping up to be a hard day of training, the lower temperatures were a god-sent.
We were met by Jonjo and two other members of his racing team, who were rather surprised by the methods Nadja was planning to employ to learn the track. I was a bit surprised how happy they were to see Jenny, until Mark told me that she had visited their team HQ during the time when Nadja was practicing for her racing license. Apparently they had adopted Jenny as some kind of team mascot. Mark had not said as much, but that was my conclusion.
I had seen the odd race here or there on the Nordschleife, after all the Netherlands weren’t that far away, but always on TV. When we embarked on our first lap, I was almost shocked about how steep some of the sections were and I realized that just one lap was going to be a very long one, not only because it was over 20 kilometers in length.
I was a hopeless climber on roller skis and it wouldn’t be any better when we would switch to the bikes. Whenever the way went uphill, my damn muscles turned into a nuisance as I had to haul my bulk up the incline on sheer power. Now, downhill was a different matter. That was when gravity turned me into a bloody rocket ship.
I looked at the digital speedometer on my wrist and I hit nearly 80 kph when down-hilling a section called ‘the foxhole’, and that was on roller-skis. On the bike I could expect to hit seriously unsafe speeds here. Unfortunately it went immediately back uphill, so by the time I had reached the crest, Lydia and Nadja had already caught up to me.
The most amazing thing though was that we were all passed by Jenny on her bike on the uphill section. With her skinny frame, not weighing much more than a paper bag, she was climbing like a homesick angel. Yep, that girl was definitely fit.
I had not followed much of the recent discussion about the extra weight they had slapped on Jenny, but I knew that Jonjo’s chassis design was apparently a bit better than what other kids had at hand, so one could be forgiven for thinking that Jenny was only winning so much because she had the best kit. But what I saw at the moment made me realize that she would cream the lot just as well in a foot race or in a bike race. That girl took her training very serious, perhaps not too surprising when growing up in a household with three Olympic medalists.
When we finished the first lap, I was only too happy to take a break. The constant up and down was killing me. Mark and Meri had the same idea, but to our surprise, Jenny didn’t. As if it was the most normal thing in the world for a twelve year old to go for more after cycling over twenty kilometers, she tagged along when Lydia and Nadja went for a second lap.
“Holy shit, if that car racing thing doesn’t work out, she can make a killing on the cycling circuit,” I said, breathing heavily. “I’ve helped out coaching our youth teams often enough. I’ve never seen a fourteen year old climb like that, let alone a twelve year old.”
“That’s the plan,” Mark said, surprisingly. “She is as quick as greased lightning, but that doesn’t mean she’ll ever make it past karting. It’s essentially Plan B.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “They slapped extra weight on her because she was too quick, and she’s obviously fitter than any twelve year old I’ve ever seen. What makes you think she would not make it?”
“Because girls don’t make it on principle,” Mark replied and I heard a certain bitterness in his voice. “When it comes to switching to junior formulae, no top team will take the punt with a girl, no matter how good she was in karting. The few girls who could have made it in the past, ended up in second or third tier teams going nowhere.”
I was stunned, and I got angry about the obvious injustice of it.
“You’re not just taking that lying down, are you?” I said hotly. “Mark, you’ve never shied away from a challenge. You’re not just accepting that are you? She’s your daughter for Christ’s sake!”
Oops, I had overshot the target there. We had all gotten so used to seeing Mark embrace his role as Jenny’s father figure, I had momentarily forgotten that he wasn’t actually her biological father. He started to cry, but Meri’s teary smile as she consoled him told me I hadn’t done any damage. In fact, my vote of confidence and the exhaustion of the hard bike ride seemed to have momentarily overwhelmed him.
Thankfully his emotional outburst ended almost as quickly as it had come.
“No, I’m not taking it lying down,” he said. “If push came to shove, we’d just build an own team. Jonjo would just love to do that, but I don’t want her to be painted with the ‘she’s only winning because of material’ brush. She’s getting enough of that already.”
“This sucks,” I said. “How much more does she need to prove herself? I mean, seriously, she just left me in the dust on a climb. I know little to nothing about karting, but even I can tell it can’t just be the material.”
“Well, you were on roller-skis, she was on a bike,” Mark pointed out. “But I get your point. The thing is, motorsports are the only discipline in which men can theoretically compete against women. Trouble is, people are not prepared to take women seriously, and I’m afraid she’ll get hurt down the line when her talent might account for nothing because she’s a girl.”
“You underestimate how stubborn she is,” Meri interrupted us. “When I started out as a track sprinter, before I went into cycling, people told me I couldn’t do it, because my tits were too big. They would get in the way, even with a sports bra, they said. I persevered, and if you recall, I wiggled them on TV for you after winning a medal in Barcelona. If you think I was stubborn then, you have the next thing coming. Jenny is even more stubborn than I ever was.”
“I saw that,” I said and laughed. “The Dutch commentator nearly came spontaneously on TV. Back then I didn’t understand what it was about until Lydia told me about it three years later.”
“It was Mark’s way of building up my confidence after I had been trounced in the long jump,” Meri explained. “And that’s the point. He will find a way to make Jenny fight for it.”
“Well, it won’t involve wiggling her boobs,” he remarked dryly.
Meri
We were approached by a tall, lanky guy and I remembered seeing him when we had arrived. This was someone from Jonjo’s team. Well, the team shirt gave it away, sort of.
“Hi, I’m Peter, Hellstein Motorsport. I wasn’t meaning to eavesdrop or anything, but I overheard some of your conversation about girls not making it into Junior formulae.”
We all tried not to be too obvious about our worry he might also have picked up too many details about my anatomy.
“Perhaps you can shine a light on something then,” Femke said. “Is Mark’s worry justified that Jenny might go nowhere despite all her talent?”
“Yes and no,” he answered ambiguously. “In general Mark is right. Only very few girls take up karting in the first place, and of those few only a tiny amount show the level of talent that Jenny has. So the odds of any girl making it through karting are already lousier than winning the lottery.”
“But she obviously has what it takes,” Femke argued again.
“True, and for all it’s worth Jenny is the second girl ever who will make a successful transition to the junior formulae.”
“There has been one before?” I asked.
“Yes, not too long ago,” Peter explained. “Claudia Hürtgen transitioned from karting to Formula Ford 1600 in 1990. The year after she came second in the championship and transitioned to Formula 3. She was starting third in Monaco in 1993, when she was rammed from behind and her car rolled. Her hand got crushed between the roll hoop and the track surface and that was her career done for.”
We all grimaced, being reminded that Jenny’s intended career path wasn’t exactly one without dangers.
“So what did she have that other girls before or after didn’t? Apart from the obvious talent,” Mark asked.
“She had the same that Jenny has,” he explained. “Talent in spades, someone strongly advocating for her, and not to forget – a potent sponsor.”
“So it’s basically down to girls not finding a sponsor?” I asked.
Peter nodded. “It’s a vicious circle. When companies decide whether or not to sponsor a young talent, it is a business decision. They see that many boys made it but no girls, so they sponsor a boy. In essence girls can’t find a sponsor because no girl ever made it past F3, and because they don’t have a sponsor they can’t make it to F3 in the first place.”
“Jeez, that’s ridiculous,” Femke huffed.
“Thankfully there are no such worries for Jenny,” he said. “Unless she wants to sign somewhere else, she already has a guaranteed seat at the Eurospeedway Driving Academy team.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Mark pointed out.
“That’s because the team, and not even the future home track exist yet, but you’re looking at the future team boss, and I believe you know the future race engineer, a certain Jonjo Ross.”
“I knew it,” I said with a giggle. “I told you Jonjo won’t withstand the temptation to build an own team.”
“Well, technically, I will build the team,” Peter corrected me with a smile. “But when Jonjo arrived at our team, I finally decided to do it. The idea itself precedes his arrival.”
“And with Eurospeedway you mean the Lausitzring, I suppose?” Mark asked.