In the Long Run
Copyright© 2024 by The Horse With No Name
Chapter 76: Pimp My Ride
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 76: Pimp My Ride - 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 mt/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Sports Incest Mother Son Light Bond Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Massage Oral Sex Pegging Petting Nudism
Nadja
I started to wonder if I was going to be the last to enjoy having Mark and Mario at the same time. Fresh from another victory at a half-marathon in Bologna, Italy, Lydia had made her intention known to claim the big prize – getting double-teamed the way Femke had enjoyed in Switzerland after her first victory in the sprint.
As luck would have it, Ian was visiting too, as he was collecting one of his planes from maintenance the next day, so our resident overachiever put one over on Femke by ‘becoming airtight’ as she called it. Mario was lying below her, doing her pussy while Mark worked at the back and Ian was on the receiving end of a rather enthusiastic blowjob, although I wasn’t sure Lydia registered much of it. Not only was she blindfolded, she was also quite obviously away with the fairies already.
Meri and Regina were quite busy with each other, excited by the spectacle before our eyes, so I was the odd woman out, left to fend for myself. Thankfully we owned more sex toys than your average family, so I quickly found something to entertain myself with.
I could easily tell that Mario was as much of a boob fetishist as Mark was. He simply couldn’t take his hands off Lydia’s tits at all. One couldn’t really fault the boy. Lydia’s boobs could make a twenty-year old green with envy. She was a freak of nature in the most beautiful way imaginable.
And boy was she orgasmic! With three guys filling her every orifice, she had gone through at least four orgasms by now, and she still kept going. Well, that was until her three suitors had finally reached the end of their respective ropes. Not too surprisingly Mario came first, followed by Ian spray-painting her throat before Mark spilled into her innards.
“Holy shit,” Lydia said, still lying on top of Mario, breathing heavily. “I want all of you to go with us to Sidney. With that kind of prize on offer, I’ll break the fucking world record!”
I wanted to laugh, but I was close to climaxing myself. Mark scooted over and removed the dildo from my pussy before he licked and nibbled me to a howling orgasm.
Lydia
I had a rather good idea how that training in St. Moritz must have felt for Femke. God, I was sore, but I loved every minute of it, so I suffered through the training the next morning. Sitting on the training bike was out of the question. Due to the massive pounding I had taken, I was sore at the front and the back at the same time. Some interval running units and one unit on the roller skis had to do.
Our new home was nice, but it caused a lot of additional work for Nadja and myself. We were both blindfold enthusiasts and could easily navigate Meri’s home, but now we had to learn ours. That was on one hand a rather exciting process, but right now I couldn’t afford to get excited. Well, that would probably mean that Nadja was going to have an advantage on me, especially since she had hardly taken the thing off since we had taken possession of our new domicile.
One obvious problem was of course Jenny. At thirteen she was old enough to know that we didn’t only play innocent card games, but that didn’t change the fact that she was still too young to witness any of it. Regina and Meri had found a pragmatic solution for that conundrum. They had bought her her own mobile phone and Jenny took the rule very seriously that she had to call us before coming over to visit or ‘kidnap’ her little sister. If it had been for Jenny, Feli would probably have stayed with her in her room permanently, but her two moms had made it clear to her that Mark and Nadja as the parents had a certain right to see their child once in a while too.
We also found a rather pragmatic solution for that. She could come over at any time and sometimes she stayed overnight, some other days she kept Feli overnight at Meri’s place.
Having two places at our disposal also solved Mark’s notorious problem with Jenny’s knack for going naked. Considering her mother’s antics that wasn’t exactly a surprising trait. But she could now do so at their place as much as she liked and Regina had told us that without Feli being there on some days they could probably have retired their washing machine.
Of course that meant the ‘call before you come over’ rule applied to us as well. That way Jenny could make herself decent in case Mark had some business at their place. With our house being somewhat smaller, we had left Mark’s physio office in the home of Meri and Regina. The house was the only thing that was smaller though. I had not seen half of it yet, but I knew our estate was vast. From what I had seen so far we could probably build Jenny her own race track on the land we owned.
Adapting to living in two places would probably take some more time to get used to, but the first two weeks had worked quite well.
Mark
How quickly two years went by. They had started the work on the Lausitzring at the time when Nadja was pregnant with Feli, and now it was finished. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be officially opened until August, which was a bummer for Nadja, who would have liked to test her new car on it.
What that meant was that we were all going to travel again. Ian, who had frequent business at Dresden airport, had brought my sister Bea along and had dropped her off at our place. This way we didn’t need to take Feli with us. At nearly two she wasn’t a little baby anymore, but a race track was not the place for her to be, although Jenny unsurprisingly had argued the opposite.
Our plane would have been too small for the whole gang, but Ian had brought one of his old new babies – a four-engined Dash-7 in an all-business class layout. Ira was serving as the Stewardess, but of course, with Jenny present, she was properly clothed.
As far as I knew Ian’s airline had all but given up on the topless stewardesses flights, but we had been on some nonetheless. That was not because we had specifically chartered such flights, but because Ira and Sofia did it just for fun, and without Jenny’s presence neither Lydia nor Nadja would have worn any shirt either.
The plane was not the fastest, but it had a party trick up its sleeve. It could land almost everywhere. When we had been at the Nürburgring before, we usually had to land at Cologne-Bonn airport, but despite its size, Ian landed that plane at a small airfield on a gravel runway. The arrival of something bigger than a small Cessna at such an airfield had attracted plane-spotters by the busload. That nifty trick saved us at least an hour on the car ride to the track.
When we got to see Nadja’s new ride for the first time, I was quite impressed. The first thing I noticed was that it looked impossibly low. Jenny had had a rather impressive growth-spurt over the last year, but by about an inch compared to Nadja, she was still the smallest of us and even she could easily look over the roof of the car because she towered over it.
Jonjo had shown us pictures of the original, which had looked a bit like an old fashioned Lamborghini, but now with all kinds of aerodynamic bits and bobs, wide slick tires and a massive rear wing on its back, it looked like a purebred racing car.
“Impressive work,” I told Jonjo and he gave us his trademark grin full of teeth.
“All carbon fibre body, four-liter BMW straight four-pot. I tells you, that thing goes like stink, man.”
“Top speed?” I asked.
“Beats me,” Jonjo said. “We’ve not yet taken it to the Northern loop, but I reckon about three hundred-twenty.”
“Three-hundred?” Ian asked. “I have planes that can’t go that fast.”
“Kilometers per hour,” I told him. “It’s somewhere around two-hundred, in miles per hour.”
“Right, so when can we start?” Nadja asked.
“As soon as you’ve changed into your overalls,” Jonjo said and his grin gave way to a shocked look when Nadja chucked off her shirt right next to the hire car we had arrived in.
“Lady, them dressing rooms are right over there, man,” Jonjo stuttered.
Nadja apparently remembered that Jonjo did not quite share our relaxed attitude towards clothing, or lack thereof. She put the shirt back on and gave him an apologetic smile as she took the bag with her overalls and helmet from the boot of the car.
She returned a few minutes later, fully kitted up with her helmet under her arm.
Ian
I was glad I had stayed with Mark’s crew instead of going home to Emden and collect them in two days time. This was not so much because I had developed a sudden interest in racing cars, but because I noticed that Ira was fascinated with them.
Since this was not an official race, but a private test session, we could loiter about in the pitlane and watch the proceedings up close. I did so, but I was accompanied by Mark instead of Ira. My better half had teamed up with little Jenny, obviously trying to learn as much as she could. My gut feeling told me I would probably have to shell out some dough for a racing school course sooner or later.
“I won’t be here the last time, will I?” I asked Mark as we watched Jenny and Ira behind the pit wall, studying electronic readouts.
He chuckled. “Nadja and Jenny have become obsessed with the idea of competing as an all-woman team at the Nürburgring twenty-four hours, perhaps even Le Mans. For that they need a third or perhaps even a fourth partner-in-crime. I think they just found one.”
“Well, Ira won’t have any problems with going fast,” I said with amusement. “The autobahn is not the same as a race track, but she’s got a heavy right hoof, I can tell you that. And unlike me, she passed the driving test in her first attempt.”
“You are telling me the pilot extraordinaire, Ian O’Connor, failed his driving test?” Mark teased me with a grin.
“I aced the theory test,” I admitted. “But believe it or not, I forgot to set the indicator at a crossing with a turning main road. Unlike back in Americaland, in Germany you’re toast after the first little mistake.”
“I was only teasing you,” Mark said and gave me a pat on the back. “I passed mine at the first attempt, but I can tell you, I was sweating like a pig – in March. And I had the advantage of going through the full set of mandatory lessons beforehand. German driving instructors prepare you for the driving test very thoroughly.”
“I know, I voluntarily took five lessons before trying again,” I said. “I was almost shocked by just how little they teach you in America before they let you drive on your own. It’s a good thing Ira and Sofia were doing most of the driving in the six months I was allowed to toil about on my American license.”
“I’m surprised you waited out the full six months,” Mark wondered. “You’re normally not the type to kick the can down the road when it comes to a check ride.”
“It wasn’t procrastination on my part,” I defended myself. “I simply didn’t have the time. I was in the middle of trying to get my business going, then German lessons, and the endless slog through the authorities for all the permissions and whatnot. Sofia did her test right away. Case in point, I didn’t even have the time to do some actual driving. I think I only drove myself to work and back once or twice, that’s all the driving I did back then, and frankly still do. I would be in the dog house for three days if I tried to exile Ira to the passenger seat.”
Mark chuckled, but I couldn’t really hear it, because in that moment Nadja returned to the pits. That car looked rather small, and I had seen Great Danes who could have looked over it, but that little thing sure made some proper noise.
It took me a while to realize that Jenny and Ira were gone. I had expected them to rush over when Nadja stopped in front of the garage, but they were gone. I looked at Mark, trying to see if he had any idea what was going on, and seeing his grin, I knew he had.
“Do I want to know?” I asked dryly, but Mark just pointed at the neighboring pit garage which was being opened and out stepped Jenny and Ira in full racing gear. Jenny wore her normal kit that she used when she went karting and Ira wore a neutral, completely white racing overall with an equally white helmet.
I shook my head and Ira waved at me. The team rolled out their second car, a race prepared BMW M5, sporting the same livery as the car Nadja had been testing all day. To my utter surprise, Nadja got out of her car and took the wheel of the Beemer, and Ira got in on the passenger side. But things got even more surprising when Jenny got into Nadja’s car.”
Both cars were refueled and off they went, out on track.
“What the heck have I just seen?” I asked. “They let a thirteen year old out onto a 20 kilometer race track in a full-blown racing car? I that even legal?”
“It’s a private test,” Mark explained. “In that case it’s perfectly legal. She could not do so during officially sanctioned events of course. She may be too young to race in cars yet, but she has an uncanny knack for finding a proper setup. She’s much better than Nadja at feeling what the car is doing and how to improve the handling.”
“So she’s actually something like an unofficial test driver?” I asked for confirmation and Mark nodded. “To give you an idea about how good she is at it. The team paid probably a hundred grand extra to book the track exclusively. Had this been a public test session with other teams on track too, Jenny wouldn’t be allowed to drive.”
“And the Beemer? I didn’t know racing cars had passenger seats?” I inquired further.
“They normally don’t,” Mark said with a chuckle. “It’s just useless additional weight. But they can install a second seat for demonstration runs. The team makes quite a bit of money selling taxi laps on Tourist weekends. The current rate is something like 35 Deutschmarks or so and you can go on a lap as the passenger in a full-blown racing car. They can easily earn over two-thousand bucks on a single weekend that way.”
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