In the Long Run
Copyright© 2024 by The Horse With No Name
Chapter 88: Jenny Tames The Beast
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 88: Jenny Tames The Beast - 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 Orgy Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Fisting Massage Oral Sex Pegging Petting Nudism
Lydia
Well, we were certainly holding up our end of the bargain. After one week in Akureyri, we were quite knackered, but if the laboratory report was anything to go by, our fitness values were excellent, despite the fact that we had been going flat-out all the way since the summer of 1999.
We were all relaxing in our big hotel room. I had just finished my call with Regina.
“What’s the news from home?” Meri asked.
“The worst seems to have passed,” I reported. “He no longer falls asleep as soon as he’s stationary for longer than ten seconds. He does naked jogging with Jenny in the morning, and apparently Regina spent 15 minutes sniffing the dirty laundry again.”
“Naked running?” Femke asked with a chuckle. “How does that work with his large organ slapping against his thighs?”
“Only Jenny is naked, actually.”
“So he finally stopped being squeamish about it,” Nadja said. I nodded.
“And what’s with the laundry sniffing? They re-enacted the big washing machine incident?”
Everyone laughed at Femke’s question.
“Yep, and they even had an audience of one, this time.”
“Jeez, they let Jenny watch it?” Meri said with a gasp of horror,
“Apparently yes,” I confirmed. “Thing is, Jenny is curious and also worried she’ll be too clumsy when Matt finally comes over. Regina and Mark decided she better learn from watching the real thing rather than some second-rate porn flicks. She is not allowed to get involved of course, but if she wants to watch from a distance, she’s allowed to.”
“Are we sure this was just exhaustion?” Femke asked. “It sounds like Mark had a complete personality transplant. He goes from being freaked out by Jenny going skinny-dipping to letting her watch how he buggers the raw stuffing out of Regina. This doesn’t sound right.”
“In a way he got a personality transplant,” I explained. “I seems like it was ‘absolute candor week’ back at home. Everyone told everyone else what they were thinking, no holds barred. Jenny told him point blank that she was sick of him being freaked out when she ditches her clothes. He promised to accept it in the future and he kept that promise.”
“Ah, that’s why the naked running,” Femke added. I nodded.
“On the first day she wore one of my track suits, but Mark told her to take it off. He no longer wants to be the reason for disrupting her routines.”
“Yeah, he never does things half-assed,” Meri agreed. “Too bad he needed that long to come around. I know for a fact that Jenny was really frustrated with it, and started to think something was wrong with her.”
“At least he finally came around,” I told Meri. “But you’re partly to blame yourself. You were the one who thrust him into the role of ersatz-father. And as you say, he doesn’t do things half-assed. The moment he accepted that role, he was her dad, and that was that.”
“And which dad would be comfortable with seeing his daughter naked all the time, especially when she looks like a carbon copy of her mother?” Femke added. “Matt will have to fend off other guys with a stick.”
Regina
It was a good thing that the reception desk of the hotel at the Nürburgring was manned around the clock. We would definitely arrive very late. We traveled a lot, but usually on one of Ian’s planes, so making a stop at Grandpa Ernst’s grave was a rare opportunity. I had been here earlier this year, so I left the stage to Mark and Jenny, staying in the background.
Both of them were kneeling before the grave, both were silently crying, holding each other by the hand. I told myself that Grandpa Ernst would probably have been happy that the two of them had finally removed that invisible barrier between them. Jenny was growing up at a rate of knots, but I knew that it meant a lot to her that dad was no longer shy to hold her hand, whether she was clothed or not. In fact the two of them had practically moved in tandem all day. They had been holding hands even for the short way from the house to the driveway. It was as if they were making up for lost time.
Like always when we managed to make a stop here, Jenny whispered to the grave, telling her late grandpa what had happened since the last time she had been here.
Mark
It felt good to be able to stay awake for most of the day again. Regina was driving and we had just passed Dortmund. This being late October, it was already dark, despite the fact that the evening wasn’t very old yet. Although several years old by now, our trusty Ford Granada ate Autobahn kilometers by the truck load, affording us a lot of comfort.
“Dad?” Jenny called me out from the rear seat.
“Jenny?” I answered in kind.
“It’s dark now. Can I take off my shirt?”
I chuckled. “Of course you can, every time you want, as long as you’re okay with it when someone sees you.”
“I don’t mind,” she said confidently and took her shirt and bra off, breathing a sigh of relief as if she had just freed herself from a full-plate armor arrangement.
“Matt could perhaps mind,” I reminded her. “Have you talked about this with him? Not every boy is happy when other people can see his girlfriend naked.”
Instead of answering, Jenny started to giggle like a schoolgirl and Regina could hardly contain her mirth either.
“Okay, what did I miss?” I asked both of them.
“Matt was nicked by the Rozzers because he had gone skinny-dipping and an old hag passing by took exception,” Regina told me. “He’ll fit right in with the lot of us.”
“Ah,” I said. “But still Jenny, don’t overdo it. You and Matt will be in the media a lot once you make it out of karting. When the media get wind that you go naked a lot, you’ll have a letter from the Playboy in your mailbox the day you turn eighteen.”
“So what,” Jenny told me defiantly. “Auntie Lydia did that and made a lot of money.”
“True,” I said. “But she was a proven winner by then. Imagine you make it to Formula 1. You’d be the first serious female contender since Lella Lombardi twenty-five years ago. Do you really want that people say you only got the seat because you whipped out your breasts for the Playboy?”
“Okay, but after my first Grand Prix win,” Jenny bartered with a giggle.
“I’ll drive you to the photo shooting myself,” I replied in kind.
“Deal dad!” Jenny said, still giggling
Regina turned off the Autobahn, stopped at a service station parking lot, put her head on the steering wheel – and then she laughed.
Meri
Mark was absent, but that didn’t mean we were out of options for entertainment. Femke had just licked and nibbled Lydia to a howling orgasm, when her phone rang. With all four of us entangled in a naked pile on the large bed, we watched as she spoke to Regina, and whatever news were coming in from home, they had to be good, because Lydia started cackling like an imbecile.
“What the heck have they done now?” Femke asked after Lydia had ended the talk.
“Regina had to turn off the Autobahn, because Mark and Jenny had the most hilarious haggling session ever.”
“And?” I asked for more details while Lydia tried to stop the chuckling.
“Essentially he asked her to tone down the nudism because she might end up being the one that only got the Formula 1 seat because she whipped out her tits for the Playboy. So Jenny goes – after my first win then, and Mark offered to drive her to the set personally in that case. Apparently, that’s a bet now.”
“What have they done to Mark?” Nadja asked with a giggle. “He seems like a new person.”
“In a way he is,” Lydia said, turning serious all of a sudden. “I forgot to tell you the other day. Jenny worked out on her own, who Mark really is. I guess no longer having to lie to Jenny has taken a lot of weight off his chest.”
“Holy shit!” Femke swore.
“No worries, she takes it well,” I said. “They visited Grandpa Ernst’s grave and for the first time Mark didn’t need to pretend it wasn’t his great grandpa. Regina said he cried quite a lot.”
“Is it just me or has he become a bit emotional lately?” Nadja asked.
“Some of it is down to the exhaustion,” I explained. “But he has always been emotional. For some reason he has just decided to be more open about it.”
“Who would have thought that Jenny would be the one who finally cracks his shell,” I added.
Mark
It had been rather late when we had finally arrived at the hotel, so we slept in until 9am. By the time we had all been to the shower and ready to go, the hotel buffet was already closed, so we stopped at a roadside restaurant for breakfast, or a rather early lunch.
When we finally arrived at the garage of Jonjo’s team, we could tell they were already waiting for us, as a three-man welcome committee stood up from a table in front of the building as soon as we arrived.
“Hey man,” Jonjo greeted me. “Femke said you been having probs lately?”
“Just a bit knackered,” I deflected. “It’s been a hard season with the Olympics and all.”
“Peter,” I said as I exchanged a hand-shake with the second man. “I thought you were setting up shop at the Lausitzring?”
“We already did,” he said and grinned at me. “I’ll be back there on Monday. Drop by anytime you like.”
After the pleasantries had been exchanged, Jonjo led us to the garage. I heard Regina snicker when Jenny took my hand again.
“That’s not the car from last year,” I pointed out the obvious.
“We wanted to use the Melkus again, but the engine didn’t fit, man,” Jonjo explained.
“What were you planning to put in? An aircraft engine?” Jenny asked.
“Nah, Judd HK V8, man,” he replied and handed us ear protectors. “Listen to this.”
Despite the large ear protectors I flinched when the engine sprang to life. That thing was LOUD! And when one of the mechanics started to rev it, it emitted an almost murderous scream. I looked at Jenny and judging by her cross-eyed look she wasn’t far from having a spontaneous orgasm.
“Huckin’ Fell!” I screamed as the engine sound died down. “That’s an F1 engine, Jonjo!”
“Originally yes,” he said. “It’s been de-tuned to 510 horses and 10.000 rpm. Has to last twenty-four hours after all, man.”
“So you made the Incredible Hulk two inches smaller,” I noted sarcastically. “I guess that was once a Mercedes?”
“208 CLK,” Jenny provided helpfully. “With 500 horsies that thing will go like stink.”
“What she said, man,” Jonjo confirmed.
“Well you certainly won’t find out,” I told Jenny, who looked way too eager to get into it. “I don’t want to be the one explaining to Matt why we scraped you off the armco.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, man,” Jonjo confronted me. “Our drivers could probably learn a thing or twelve from her. And besides, we’re only going to do straight-line tests on a disused airfield.”
Regina
I could tell he was not best pleased. Mark was masking his worry about Jenny behind anger about having been outvoted. That I had sided with his friend Jonjo would probably come back to bite me in the arse.
I couldn’t really finish that thought, because in that very same moment the infernal engine of that car was started up. The car was at the other end of a 2-kilometer runway, but we could still hear it.
The scream of the engine got ever more loud and the car set off with smoking tires. The sound was truly infernal and I started to understand Mark’s misgivings. That car was hurtling towards us at an incredible speed and behind the wheel sat my thirteen and a half year old daughter!
She screamed past us and even with the ear protection on, it hurt. More smoke came from the tires as she braked hard, turned the car around and lazily drove back to the finish line, where we were standing.
“Holy shit,” Mark swore. “I don’t even want to think about Nadja driving that diabolical thing around the Nordschleife.”
“Its bark is worse than its bite,” a voice from behind told us and we looked back to see Peter Maassen, Jenny’s team boss for the next season. “It sounds hilarious, but it still lacks about fifty horses compared to the Viper.”
“Are you trying to tell us, this was a failure?” Mark asked.
“Certainly not, but don’t get fooled by the sound. This car has a hundred more horse powers than the Melkus, but it’s also heavier. The important bit are the better aerodynamics and suspensions. It is actually easier to drive than last year’s car.”
“Just easier, or also safer?” Mark asked.
“Much safer,” Peter said. “Last year’s car was also safe of course. We don’t put people in death traps. But the handling of this car is much more predictable than the Melkus, which means it is less likely for the driver to lose control.”
“But why the Formula 1 engine in a road car?” Mark insisted.
“The basis is a Formula 1 engine,” Peter explained. “But it is heavily modified and substantially de-tuned for longevity. A normal F1 engine has to do four-hundred kilometers. This one is expected to do five-thousand, although I suspect it won’t survive the day.”
“Because of Jenny?” Mark wanted to know.
Peter chuckled. “No. It is expected to blow up at some point. That’s what these straight-line tests are for – finding the limit. It certainly won’t be Jenny’s fault. I’m not going to lie – she doesn’t have the outright fastest speed, but I have rarely seen a driver with such exquisite throttle control. She is basically a cheat code, her own traction control system.”
“I guess you can tell us what that is?” Mark asked.
“A traction control system stops the tires from spinning too much. You floor the throttle, and the system adjusts the engine for you. Jenny can do that naturally, just with her foot, and that’s a huge advantage, because such systems are forbidden in most racing series.”
“A bit like someone who always shifts at the perfect moment, but automatic gear shifting is prohibited?” I chipped in.
“A great comparison,” Peter agreed. “She can do naturally what others need technical help with. That’s why the team wanted her for those tests. I’m sorry if we sprung a nasty surprise on you with that.”
“That’s not the problem,” Mark said. “It’s just that so far nobody has bothered to explain the thinking behind it. Let’s face it, you don’t see too many thirteen year olds in cars with a Formula One engine – de-tuned or not.”
“I still don’t understand what you meant with Jenny isn’t the out-right fastest,” I asked. “That’s not always been our experience.”
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