Chapter 14: The Fight Is On

Of course, before the topic of spending the night could be tackled, there was dinner to be had and we definitely had to change the bedsheets. Eventually, we all retired – Jenny and Regina decided they would both spend the night alone, while I retired with mom to the guesthouse. Jenny had given permission that I could do more with mom than just sleep, despite the new package-deal rule, but I told her that I thought we'd all sated our needs in my opinion. However, that didn't stop me playing with mom's boobs as we were both lying side by side in bed.

"You are not old, mom," I said to break the somewhat awkward silence. She kissed the tip of my nose.

"We all say that night is in the past, but we still have issues, don't we?" she asked and I could hear the sad undertone in her voice.

"Probably," I admitted. "For instance I didn't really realize until today, that some of my anger was actually down to jealousy. I was really jealous of those guys."

Mom let out a small giggle.

"Trust me sweetie, for them it was only a professional job. By the way, I have told your father."

"Damn, he must be devastated."

"No he isn't," Mom said. "He's royally pissed off. I don't of course remember all of that evening, and thankfully, what I remember was having a mighty good time, but a pparently they've not adhered to the contractual obligations. For instance it was agreed that their company supplies red wine. Instead they supplied port, which has almost twice the alcohol content. That explains why I was so drunk."

I sighed. "That's what I thought. I've never seen you so wasted before. You see, my wanting to watch is not only so I have something to whack off over. It's also so I can interfere if things go out of hand. For instance today. I didn't know you always pass out. For a moment I was genuinely scared."

"You're so sweet," mom cooed and kissed me. At the same time she put my hand back on her boob as I had 'neglected' playing with her nipple for a while.

"I guess I blamed myself for the whole shebang. I really thought it was because I hadn't slept with you for weeks. Guess I had relied too much on Regina to care for your needs."

"She does care for my needs, sweetie," mom said and gently stroked my growing erection. "I had a short fling with another girl in high school, but back then I thought it was just juvenile curiosity. I never realized that I am truly bisexual until I met Regina. I really love her."

"Well, so much is obvious," I said. "I think Jenny and I suspected it before you two realized yourself."

She just smiled at me.

I hadn't planned any action, but I couldn't resist. I rolled on top of mom and pushed my raging hard-on into her drenched pussy. I began to slide in and out of her at the slowest speed I'd ever gone. Mom closed her eyes and hummed happily.

"Oh sweetie, that feels so good."

I hugged her tight and for a while we said nothing. With me going at a speed that would make a glacier call me a slow-poke, it felt more like a gentle caress than all-out raw fucking.

"I love you mom, and I want things to stay as they are," I said. "I don't give a hoot what other people say. Sharing our love this way is so much better than just saying the words."

Mom got a little weepy over my confession, and we both went silent again, hugging each other tightly, kissing, joined in the slowest sex encounter in recorded history. It was also one of the longest. When mom started to shiver under me, sighing and moaning as sedately as the whole encounter had been, I realized we'd been at it for three and a half hours. I came shortly after mom and it felt like passing a golf ball through my dick. The relief though was nothing like I had ever felt before and both of us fell asleep nearly instantaneously.

God knows how we had managed to wake up in time as I had certainly slept like a baby, my head gently cradled by mom's soft breasts. Normally it would be the man's job to be the pillow for the girl's head, but what was normal in this family? Jenny gave us knowing smiles repeatedly when he had breakfast, somehow instinctively knowing that mom and I had not made it through the night without doing the deed.

"Folks," I announced. "Usually we've always kept some things to ourselves, not kissing and telling, that sort of thing. But if I learned one thing over the last two weeks, we need to be open, completely, so if you have questions – ask."

Regina gave us a shit-eating grin and then she looked at mom. "Just tell me, Cathy, how did he do it? I've never seen you glow like that before."

"Three and a half hours," mom said, looking dreamily at her partner. "Two hundred and ten minutes of the gentlest sex I've ever had. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

"Holy sshh... ," Jenny gasped and barely caught her language in time. Then she fixed me with a determined look. "If you don't repeat that with me, and both front and back, you're in the dog house for a year."

I snickered. "It helps if we boink our moms beforehand or I'll never hold out that long again. Or you'll have to blow me three times."

"You know I would always do that, Hasi"

"Not at the breakfast table, or under it, for that matter," Regina interrupted Jenny's gushing.

"Spoilsport."

We all laughed at that. Finally things in the Marx household were back to normal.

"I've also got an announcement to make," mom said after a while. "I'm not going to be at the next race. I'm going to Switzerland for a boob job. Regina will run the hospitality truck."

I nearly choked on my food. Seeing that Regina didn't even flinch, she had probably known already.

"Mom, your boobs and the word 'small' do not normally belong in the same sentence."

"I don't want them bigger, but smaller, sweetie. I've had back problems for years now and besides, they start to sag really badly. Unless, of course, you don't want me..."

I interrupted her with a wave of my hand.

"Mom, they are yours. I wouldn't love you any less if you had none or six of them. I only want to be sure that you don't do this because you think I would become uninterested in you. In case you've forgotten; you only told us yesterday that you fear I would lose interest in being with you."

I looked up at all of them. "That goes for everyone around this table. You know I love all of you the way you are, and you know I love to ogle your bodies, especially when there are no clothes in the way." The girls giggled at that and Regina and Jenny immediately ditched their shirts. Mom followed suit, grinning and wiggling her rack at me. "You are the ones who have to be happy with your outer shell. So I'll support whatever you may decide, but I'll be mightily peeved if you do whatever you do because of me."

"You sound almost scarily grown up for a fifteen year old," Regina remarked pensively.

Time flies in the Marx household, especially when the warm weather returns and you get to admire T&A in abundance. Especially Jenny was looking as if she had a black and a white parent. That girl was even blindingly fast when tanning.

On May 23rd we dropped mom off at a private clinic in Lausanne, Switzerland, and from there we made our way to the Nürburgring for the third race weekend, starting the next day. Mom's surgery would be paid for by dad, no surprise there, and with us being occupied, he stayed with mom over the weekend. Seriously, that divorce looked more and more like a second wedding. Mom and dad were even more inseparable than they'd ever been as a married couple. Since the surgery would be minimally invasive, mom merely had to stay over the weekend. We could have collected her a mere 24 hours after the surgery, but she had decided to stay until Monday. That way we could collect her on our way home. Somehow I got the impression she also wanted to wait until the bandages were off, so she could 'present' the result upon our return.

The initial plan had been to revert our cars to the normal configuration, but I asked Peter if I could try the first practice with the lobotomized rear wing. He did of course object, but when Jenny offered to return to the normal configuration, so that at least one car was okay in case my idea backfired, he allowed me to retain the low downforce layout. I had spent the whole Adria weekend trying to adapt to the ridiculous handling, having sort of succeeded, and frankly I didn't feel like relearning the car yet again.

Apparently our extremely small rear wing hadn't gone unnoticed and Irishman Robby Coleman of the Austrian HBR Motorsport team ran the same configuration. Knowing that the handling took 'borderline' to a whole new level, I concentrated on improving the car's predictability under breaking. And we made good progress. It was of course tail-happy like nothing else. Whenever I parked that car in parc fermé I nearly expected it to face the other way when I came back to collect it, but that's how I liked my cars in the first place. Reading our telemetry after the first free practice, we could see that I was by far the slowest through the mid to high speed corners, like Dunlop and RTL, but on the straights I could have hung on to the back of F3 cars. Jenny, meanwhile was the fastest through the corners, but she had to sacrifice some straight-line speed and was only placed in the midfield through the speed-traps. In terms of lap times it surprisingly didn't make much of a difference. She beat me by twenty-six thousands of a second to third place.

The qualifying for the first race was infuriating, as having copied our rear wing trick, Coleman snatched pole, beating Jenny by a tenth of a second. I was fourth behind Vettel, because I had botched the Schumacher-S during my fastest lap. The audience had certainly enjoyed my massive tank-slapper and the subsequent save though.

Jenny and I shared a knowing look when we heard a very familiar chorus again. Her fanclub was at it again. Meanwhile, we had even worked out the language, because Regina told us that they were actually singing in Sorbian, the language of a minority of western-slavic speaking people living in Lusatia, the part of Eastern Germany the Eurospeedway was located in. It reminded us that its official full name was 'Eurospeedway Lusatia'. A fan had sent us a translation of the Sorbian lyrics and the chorus said 'Jenny, Jenny, pride of Lusatia'. I could tell she was moved. Heck, I had hard enough a time not to weep myself. The only thing that sort of worried me, considering that we were only in our first full season, was that all this adoration could get into her head one day. She wouldn't be the first one to whom that happened.

Qualifying for the second race on Saturday morning went a whole lot better. I got a clean lap in, well, as clean a lap as you can expect when your car wobbles like a drunken elk under braking, but in the end it was enough to beat Vettel to the pole. Jenny had botched her lap big time and only managed sixth, but her Sorbian fanclub did their best to raise her spirits. She was definitely enjoying the adoration.

The first race in the afternoon started badly. Jenny had made a brilliant start and had the inside line into turn one, but the concept of leaving space was obviously not one that Mr. Coleman was overly familiar with and he clattered into Jenny's car. Both of them spun off into the gravel trap.

"Is she still running?" I barked into my helmet-microphone.