Apex Ch. 06

Apex Ch. 06

A/N - This is yet another story in this category that is part of a series or a story. I'll get around to writing a story for this category one day in the future that isn't part of something else!

Australian / British standard English. There is a good chance of reading the following: lots of profanity, characters drinking, typos, and bad grammar at times.

Proofreading and editing suggestions provided by OhDave1. Any mistakes are still mine.

Comments are appreciated as always.

Feedback by email is always welcome. Enjoy chatting with anyone who likes my work.

*****

Returning from injury, will he find his form again?

*****

Physical therapy sucked. But considering that I was waking up every morning thankful that I was still alive, I put the negative thoughts to the side and focused on building up my strength again.

I'd seen more than one replay of my accident since it happened. The driver that had punted me off had become a villain in the eyes of many supporters of Minardi and Formula One in general. His backmarker team didn't offer him a new contract for the new season despite the sponsorship he had. His accident with me was the last in a litany of incidents he had been involved in.

As for the accident itself, I'd been lucky to survive in many ways. I'd been sent flying off the track at 130R by another car. My car slammed into the tyre barrier and barrel rolled three times, bits of the car flying off. By the time it came to rest, the survival cell I sat in was still intact, but all four corners had been torn off. And I was unconscious.

Upon returning to Italy, Mum flew over from the United Kingdom to help with my recovery. And what I didn't miss during the next few weeks was the distance Anja was putting between us. I knew what she was doing. I knew she worried about me every time I set foot in my car, but it was the worst accident of my career and the first time that I'd been injured.

Since returning home, Anja had been sleeping in her own bedroom. Part of the reason would be due to me needing to sleep comfortably which isn't easy with a broken leg. She was by my side during every therapy session, and I was still able to do work on my upper body. But the closeness that we'd shared during most of the last year was gone.

Anja was honest about it. She had watched the accident live. She'd genuinely thought I was dead when the car came to a halt and I wasn't moving. After a couple of weeks in hospital in Japan, Anja was by my side while Mum flew in from London the next day, it was when we returned to Italy that Anja told me that she felt we were getting far too close and that she simply couldn't fall in love with me then watch me die on the track.

"We can continue to have a little fun during the season," she told me, "I won't cut everything out between us. But we were becoming romantically involved. I simply can't do it, Mark."

"Do you want to keep working for me?" I had to ask.

She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. "I'm not going anywhere, Mark. And that's because I believe in you. I want to be by your side when you become world champion. And we can still have fun from time to time. But what happened... I now understand how Adriana felt and why she, you know, couldn't remain in a relationship with you."

To be fair, she kept her word in a certain way. She might not be sleeping in my bed any longer, but one way to keep me motivated was with sex. Blowjobs were still common, and although sex was somewhat difficult, I had no problem lying back while Anja happily rode me until we enjoyed an orgasm or two together. She always got up and returned to her bedroom to sleep.

Mum was aware of our relationship. She spoke to Anja often and knew about Anja's decision regarding our working and private relationship. Mum sat me down a couple of times and suggested that I make sure to have a little fun. I'd received more than one phone number over the past couple of years from women who were interested in me. A couple of girls who had been grid girls. Women I'd met at team events. Some were my age if not a little younger. I had quite a few numbers from women who were definitely older than me by a decade and more.

By the time of the South African Grand Prix, I was completely healed though I knew that I wasn't as physically fit as I should be. Mum usually gave the races outside of Europe a miss except for Australia due to the travel, but she flew with Anja, me and the team to South Africa. She told me that she wasn't going to miss a single race for at least the next few years. I think the accident shook her up more than she'd admit. But I liked having Mum around, and I knew Anja liked the company as well.

I'd only done a couple of days of testing, most of the work falling on the shoulders of Pierluigi and our test driver, Luca Badoer. Giancarlo told me to take my time recuperating as Badoer was more than capable of stepping up for a race or two. But I was determined not to miss a race as I knew Aldo had designed another cracking car, and Lamborghini continued to develop the engine. Power had always been fantastic, now it was reliability.

Monza last year still lingered in the memory. A first win had been in touching distance...

There were no nerves during the first practice session. I put what happened in Japan out of my mind. I knew Mum and Anja were both nervous as I was preparing in the motorhome. I took the first couple of laps at a steady pace as I still wasn't completely comfortable with the car. But once the tyres were warm and everything felt right, I put in my first flying lap of the season. By the end of the first practice, both Minardi's were in the top ten.

Qualifying a few hours later would be the real test of how good our car was. All the big teams arrived with new cars each year. The smaller teams would sometimes arrive at the first few races with updated cars from the previous year, debuting their new car at the start of the European swing. As usual, Ferrari, Lotus, McLaren, Renault and Williams were at the top of the time sheets. Ligier, Tyrrell, BRM and Brabham were nipping at their heels. The rest were fighting to make it onto the grid with the usual backmarker teams.

At the end of qualifying on Saturday, the grid had a somewhat usual feel with the likes of Clark, Senna and Villeneuve near the top. But Minardi... We certainly threw down a marker as I put my car fifth on the grid with Pierluigi behind me in ninth. To say my mechanics went wild with delight at the end of qualifying... You would have thought I'd qualified on pole!

Lining up on the grid the next day, I stepped out of the cockpit as we still had ten minutes to go. I held a last-minute debrief with Gabriele, going over the various options we had available regarding pitstops. It was the usual case of the turbo cars being faster but thirsty regarding fuel. Kyalami could also be tough on tyres.

"Bring the car home in the points if possible," Giancarlo told me before I put on my helmet, "The fact you're back and driving is a win in itself, Marco."

"I'm worried about my fitness," I admitted, "I have a feeling that I'm going to be knackered by the halfway point."

"Marco, if you are exhausted and you think it's dangerous, tell Gabriele and I will authorise you to come in. We don't want you having a big accident," Giancarlo said.

"I won't push myself beyond the limit," I assured him and Gabriele.

The green light was a couple of minutes later and it was 'Go! Go! Go!' in the words of Murray Walker. I made a great start and nipped past Rosberg's Williams into the first turn to take fourth place. Within a couple of laps, I was in the groove and settled in for a long first stint. I kept the cars in front within sight and managed to put a bit of space between me and the cars behind.

The laps ticked off until I was told that cars were starting to pit. It was still the team's Achilles heel. The chassis was getting better. The engine was more powerful and increasingly reliable. But our pitstops were still a problem. After the lone pitstop of the race, putting on a set of harder tyres that would see me through to the end, I exited the pits in sixth place.

Within a few laps, I was on the tail of Laffite in fifth place. His Ligier-Matra was another V12 engine, but the strides Lamborghini had been making recently meant that our engine was only down on power to the Ferrari, and by barely a few horsepower. It was considered that our engine was more powerful than the other V12s, Matra, Maserati and the Weslake in the back of the Eagle.

The best place to pass at Kyalami is by getting a good slipstream out of Leeukop, keeping on the tail of the car in front through the Kink then pass just before the braking point into Crowthorne. Laffite did his best to fight me off, but he finally stayed to the left upon approaching the first corner and I slipped by into fifth.

There had already been numerous retirements in the race, leaving my next target as Jochen Rindt in the Cooper-Maserati. Another V12 engine, but the young Austrian was clearly struggling as I caught him at a second a lap. In fifth after passing Laffite, I was on Rindt's tail, and a missed shift through the Jukskei Sweep allowed me to nip past him through Sunset.

I was now in fourth with around a third of the race to go. I felt exhausted already. I was now running on pure adrenaline and a desire to finish as high as possible. With ten laps to go, I was still in fourth though closing on third place at a rapid rate of tenths per lap. Gerhard Berger in the Benetton-BMW V6T hadn't made a pitstop, using a variety of different tyre compounds to help him make positions as everyone else pitted, and the Benetton was known for having a large fuel tank so they didn't always stop for fuel.

"How are you doing, Marco?" Gabriele asked.

"I'm fine. Gap to Gerhard?"

"Five seconds. Seven laps to go."

"Go and get him, Marco. A podium on your return would be magnifico!" Giancarlo added.

What we all knew was that the BMW was notoriously unreliable. Brabham ran the same engine and their drivers would either podium or retire at most races. The BMW in the Benetton was last year's engine, usually detuned for reliability though therefore not as powerful. And the engines still had the habit of blowing up anyway.

Four laps to go and I was only a couple of seconds behind. By the end of that lap, I was almost on his tail. As I watched him during that lap, I could see he was definitely struggling with grip. On the penultimate lap, I followed him through the first couple of corners, through Jukskie Sweep and was ready to break for Sunset. And that's where he made a mistake, out-braking himself and sliding off the track into the dirt. I was through into third.

Crossing the finish line at the end of the final lap, I swept over towards the pit lane as the team were hanging out over the pit wall. To be honest, I'd only finished third, but it felt like a victory. As I slowed down for the cool-down lap, I was still surviving on adrenaline, and the agony only hit me as I pulled the car to a halt in Parc Ferme.

As I greeted my mechanics, I practically collapsed against the barrier having hobbled towards them. I managed to get myself up on the podium, managing to lift up my trophy when it was presented to me before there was the spraying of champagne. After the official press conference, which was usually rather dull, I walked out to the media pen to chat with other journalists.

The Sky Sports UK reporter was always friendly. Helped she was rather attractive as well. She was smiling as I hobbled towards her. "Mark, how are you feeling?"

"I need a nap."

That earned some chuckles before she asked, "Third place in your first race back after your horrific accident in Japan last year. You made some good passes. Did you ever think that you might not be here again?"

I pondered the question for a couple of seconds. "I guess when I was laid up in hospital there were moments of doubt. I don't care who you are, when you're in such an accident, doubts do crop up in your mind. Having to watch the Australian Grand Prix from back home in Italy wasn't a lot of fun either. But to be honest, once I was out of hospital, even when hobbling around on crutches, I was determined to get back onto the grid. I'm still lacking fitness. I'm fairly sure the adrenaline has run out and I'm going to crash soon. And the agony will really hit me."

"Well, it was a fantastic drive, and everyone is delighted to see you back on the grid, Mark. Go off and celebrate with your team."

"I'll probably do that after my nap!"

The first thing I received was a massage from Anja once I was back at the hotel. She then kissed my cheek and let me sleep for an hour. I woke up and dressed before heading downstairs to join Anja and Mum for dinner, a few of the mechanics were already back at the hotel along with Giancarlo. He was absolutely delighted with my third place, and was already talking about the rest of the season and what might be possible.

After a quick stop back in Italy where I continued my recuperation and rebuilding my fitness, we flew out to the Americas for the next three races. Argentina wasn't as successful as South Africa, but I still managed to finish in the points in fifth. Brazil at Interlagos finished with a retirement due to a gearbox failure. Mexico saw another points finish though only sixth for one point.

The first race back in Spain was at Montjuich Park. Slight improvements had been made to safety though it was still an incredibly dangerous track. A couple of drivers even talked of a boycott in the lead-up to the race, but although there was agreement that further improvements should be made before we arrived again in a couple of years' time.

Every driver took their position on the grid after qualifying. Being a tight street circuit, the nimble V8 engine cars had dominated qualifying. The Minardi I drove had proven to be quite a decent chassis as I still managed to qualify in the top ten. The turbos were competitive but not as dominant as usual.

Unfortunately, the race was littered with accidents as always, the undulating and bumpy nature of the track proving to be a real car breaker and test of endurance. Thankfully, the weather remained dry. I hadn't driven Montjuic in the dry but had been told that it was terrifying. Not as bad as the Nurburgring, but that could be terrifying when the sun was shining brightly. To be honest, when I retired with a blown engine with twenty laps to go, I wasn't particularly unhappy.

Returning to Italy to continue my fitness regime, I was feeling better after each race. I wasn't limping around any longer, and I could feel the progress being made regarding my strength, particularly at my core. Anja continued to be my cheerleader, and Mum had loved travelling with us to the Americas for the three races there.

And then came Imola...

*****

I enjoyed turning up at the circuit on Thursday and Friday as the hardcore fans were always out and about, hoping to shake my hand, get an autograph or even a selfie. I had no problem meeting and greeting fans before the start of the day. Like most drivers, once I was in the zone, I didn't particularly want to be bothered, but I tried to arrive at the track nice and relaxed.

There were always barriers to keep the crowds back, glad that they were not kept behind wire mesh fences and other such things. I enjoyed stopping to chat with people and it made taking selfies for the fans much easier. I was busy signing an autograph when I noticed a rather gorgeous young woman standing a couple of paces away. Know that moment when your eyes meet with someone and you share something unspoken? I felt it then.

Making my way towards her, she smiled to reveal two rows of almost perfect teeth. "Selfie or photograph?" I asked in Italian. Fans came from all over the world though I always spoke Italian when I was in Italy.

"Both?" she asked in reply.

I took a selfie first and she had a few people laughing when she left a kiss on my cheek. Anja was laughing away nearby as I turned to sign the shirt she was wearing. It was a white shirt in the colours of our sponsor, Martini. "So you're a fan?"

"Definitely. I was on the internet every day looking for news after your crash in Japan. Are you okay now?"

"Absolutely fine. Thanks for asking." She blushed slightly and I had to ask, "Are you here every day?"

"I am."

I looked around to see Gabriele standing nearby. He seemed to know what I was going to ask. I'd never done it before, but he immediately nodded and started to laugh as he made a phone call. Turning back to the young woman, I asked, "What's your name?"

"Sophia."

"Want to come into the paddock?"

I think she almost burst into tears before she hugged me tightly around the neck. "Oh my god! Are you serious?"

"Sure. Come on in."

A couple of guards opened a gap in the barrier for Sophia to walk through, taking her hand and leading her towards the gates into the paddock. Anja was walking to my other side, meeting her eyes, thankful to see her smiling. Sophia could barely contain her excitement as we made our way to the motorhome, Giancarlo walking out to greet me and my companions.

Most of the big teams had motorhomes that provided dining and places for sponsors, guests, friends and family. Giancarlo gave me a simple look before leading us into the small dining area of the motorhome. Minardi's was nothing compared to the size of the larger teams, but as the exposure of the team increased due to success on the track, it would enable the team to also improve its off-track activities.

Offering Sophia a drink, Anja also grabbed herself something before she kissed my cheek and said she'd go prepare my things. Sitting with Sophia at one of the small tables, she met my eyes and blushed rather shyly. I think she was starting to comprehend just where she was.

"I'm guessing you know quite a bit about me?" I had to ask, "No point really introducing myself?" I still offered my hand. "I'm Marco. And you're Sophia. Are you local to here?"

"I live in Bologna..."

"Ah... I'm guessing that you know I live there too?" The smile broadened as she nodded. "Studying or working?"

"Well, I know that I'm younger than you. I'm only twenty-one. I'm still studying at university. I've always had an eye for numbers so doing a joint business and accounting degree."

"So you're smart?"

She chuckled as she replied, "Well, some people think I'm quite smart. I'm just doing a degree that I knew would do me some good when it came to starting my career."

"Are you a Bologna native?"

"No. I'm from the south around Naples. All my family is still around there. I visit when I can, but I've loved living in Bologna since I arrived."

"So have I! To be honest, I'm living there because it's close to the team. If you don't mind me asking, where abouts do you live?"

"Close to the university. I live with a couple of other students." She cleared her throat and asked, "Are you with the woman who was with you when arriving?"

I thought about how to reply. "Professionally, she's my assistant, therapist and generally helps me however she can. Privately, we're not together in a monogamous sense. Friends with benefits at most."

I expected the smile. "Oh, well... I must thank you for inviting me in here."

"It's not something I've done before. Are you here with anyone?"

"My father will be coming up tomorrow night and will attend the race. I've watched Formula One with him since I was a little girl. I haven't missed a race here at Imola since I arrived in Bologna to study. Before that, Dad took me to Monza when I was thirteen for the first time."

"Only you? Any siblings?'

"Yes, I have two older brothers. I'm the baby of the family."

"Marco!" I turned to see Gabriele at the bottom of the stairs. "Debrief in fifteen minutes."

"I'll be ready."

As soon as Gabriele disappeared, Maria walked over. She was the hostess and looked after all the guests of the team at every event. She was in her early thirties, absolutely gorgeous and given that I'd been relatively shy in my first year, she flirted outrageously with me in front of everyone. She loved to giggle whenever making me blush, which was quite often. The best thing was that she did get on with Anja, Maria actually gave me advice from time to time when it came to the relationship.

"Marco, who is this delightful young woman?" After I made some introductions, Maria asked her, "Would you like to stand in the garage during each session? I know Giancarlo won't mind as you are a guest of our young driver here."

"You mean for everything?" Sophia asked excitedly.

"Yes."

"Her father is also coming on Sunday," I added, "Think we could organise a pass for him as well?"

Maria immediately grinned. "I'll get the details from Sophia and make sure she has a pass for Saturday and Sunday, and her father has one for Sunday."

I left Sophia with Maria a few minutes later, noticing Maria watching as Sophia gave me quite a tight hug. I figured she was just a fan that I'd made incredibly happy. Walking into the small room where we held the usual debrief, Gabriele gave me a look before he burst into laughter, waving away my protests that I was simply being friendly.

The first practice went well. Although Imola is a power circuit, like at least half of the circuits the Formula One circus visits, there are enough slower corners plus the tight and twisty kinds of stuff that the V8s, V10s and V12s can match the turbos. And when I ended the first practice session in fourth place, behind the two Renaults and the Lotus of Clark, confidence soared. Pierluigi was behind me in sixth though had put in a series of good laps.

Qualifying was intense as there was always pressure on Ferrari to perform in Italy, but the media was starting to take more of an interest in the progress of Minardi. We didn't have the expectations Ferrari had. They were expected to win every single race. Going a whole season without a win was a calamity. Not challenging for the championship was reason to fire the team manager, drivers, designer and anyone else connected with the squad. Yeah, the Italian media takes it very seriously.

I finished the first day in sixth with Pierluigi finding a turn of speed on his final qualifying attempt to nip into fifth with five minutes to go. It was the expected mixed-up grid with turbo cars on the provisional front row with a turbo and normally aspirated car on the second.

Sophia was ever so excited when I joined her in the motorhome after the debrief. Anja kept her company while I was out driving, and I noticed the look Anja was giving me. She'd been on at me for the past couple of months about meeting someone else and I just knew she was thinking Sophia would be perfect.

After Sophia left to return to Bologna, as she would be travelling by train to and from the circuit each day, the team always chose to stay close to Imola, so the travel time was reasonable. Anja waited until after we'd eaten dinner that evening before she knocked on the door to my room in the hotel. I laughed almost immediately as she sat on the edge of the bed and gave me a look that I already knew well.

"You liked her?" she asked after I sat next to her.

"Definitely cute."

"Mark, she was beautiful. And although it was obvious that she was a fan, I could see how she was looking at you whenever you had a moment with her, particularly between the sessions. I think the word to use would be infatuated."

'Are you suggesting something, Anja?"

"I am. Get to know her. And if you find her interesting and intelligent in addition to being beautiful, see if she would like to be more." She took my hand and squeezed. "I would like to keep the physical aspect of our relationship going, but if she is looking for something serious, you know that I'd step aside. She's young and maybe doesn't comprehend all the dangers though."

"You're only a few years older than her."

"True. But I've already grown close to you when what happened in Japan..."

"Still think about it?"

"I know you can't and don't, Mark. It happened, you've recovered, you've moved on. That's what racing drivers do."

"We have to do it. If I sat in this hotel room at the end of every day and thought about what could go wrong, or accidents that I've had before, I'd never get in a car again. I'm not stupid, I don't think I'm invincible. But I know how good I am. My accident in Japan wasn't my fault. It wasn't even the fault of the car. If my car were to continually fall apart and break down, then perhaps I'd consider moving teams."

Giving my hand a squeeze, she shuffled across to rest her head on my shoulder. "Give it some thought, Mark. I mean about Sophia. I think casually dating someone else would be good for you, and perhaps even be good for me. If you were to bring her home to your..."

"Our. It's our apartment, Anja. You live there with me."

I knew she smiled even though I wasn't looking at her. "Okay, our apartment. If you do date her and bring her home, I'll do my best not to be too jealous. Sophia might find it a little weird anyway."

"Already explained who you are. Professionally and privately."

"And what did she say?"

"Well, modern times and all. Men and women date around quite a bit."

Despite what she said, Anja wanted to have a little fun with me for a couple of hours before returning to her own room. She wanted sex, but after she had a quick shower, she told me that I should definitely think about pursuing something with Sophia.

I picked Sophia up nice and early at the train station in central Imola. Her father would only be arriving in Bologna later that evening so would only meet him for the first time the next day. Sophia had called him up the previous night and laughed as she told me that he was rather excited about being invited into the paddock. Most ordinary fans don't get to see the inner sanctum of the Formula One circus.

Giancarlo was on hand to greet Sophia again, Maria immediately taking her under her wing as we sat down for breakfast. I'd normally eat it at the hotel, but with Sophia with us, I thought it would be a treat. Some of the mechanics were able to join us, and I could see Sophia was impressed with my Italian when it came to the technical stuff.

"You still have an accent though," she stated while laughing, "Just a hint of one."

"When I speak English, I probably have a mix of Australian and Southern English. Not Cockney or anything like that, but I know I've picked up the speech pattern of those who live in London."

Second practice was all about getting the set-up of the car perfected for the race with an eye on second qualifying. It was another warm day, conditions almost perfect with the track bathed in sunshine. There was a light breeze, nowhere near strong enough to unsettle my car. Second practice wasn't about setting lap times. When I ended the session outside the top ten, I wasn't concerned as I knew my set-up for the race was going to be good.

Sophia's excitement remained high as second qualifying started. A couple of the mechanics had already joked that they were going to adopt her as a mascot as her enthusiasm was infectious, and they had no problem explaining a few things as it was obvious that she was interested in the mechanics of a Formula One car.

Second qualifying was rather intense as times tumbled as the circuit improved. The usual names were near the front. Clark. Villeneuve. Senna. Peterson. Stewart. The Ligier of Laffite was starting to show a turn of speed in this new season, apparently, the Matra V12 having improved in power. Bandini was back for the new season after his horrific accident in Monaco last season and was getting back in the groove. And little Minardi was now well and truly mixing it with the big boys. By the end of qualifying, I'd improved to third place behind Clark and Villeneuve. Pierluigi remained in sixth, separated from me by Senna and Clark's teammate, Ronnie Peterson.

Qualifying third meant the usual media commitments at the official press conference before fronting the media at the pen. When I arrived back in the garage, there were handshakes all around as the team was delighted. Giancarlo pulled me aside and told me that he was confident of big things the next day. Anja gave me a hug before an ever-so-excited Sophia greeted me with one hell of a cuddle and she barely let go of my arm as I relaxed for a few minutes. Returning her to the train station a couple of hours later, only leaving the circuit after the crowds had departed,

"I'll be here with my father nice and early tomorrow morning," she told me, "You'll get to the circuit early?"

"Some drivers don't, but I prefer to avoid the traffic. You should know how early they start arriving here."

"My father doesn't speak a lot of English."

"We're speaking Italian right now. I only speak English with Anja as she's still learning the language. It'll be fine just speaking Italian with your father. I can translate if Anja wants to know what we're talking about."

"He'll probably ask about her."

"I can be as honest as anyone wants. Yes, we've had and still sort of have a relationship, but we're just close friends and she's my assistant in numerous ways." When I took her hand, Sophia returned a shy smile. "What I also know is that you live in Bologna, and probably not all that far from me. We've already swapped phone numbers so... When I'm not away for racing, we could always catch up?"

I think she nearly fainted at the idea before hugging me tightly. "My friends will be so jealous that I'm friendly with a Formula One driver!" she whispered.

Anja was still chuckling away at me when we made it back to the hotel, joining me downstairs for dinner with a few of the mechanics as always. "That girl has the biggest crush and it's now coming true," she stated, "She'll probably show up tomorrow morning bedecked in Minardi gear. Maybe even a shirt bearing your name."

"Well, I think she was a fan of mine anyway. Seemed to know all about my career."

"Mark... Do you like her?" I met her eyes and Anja smiled. "It's okay if you do. Remember, we're only friends with some very nice benefits."

"I do like her but I'm not sure how she'd handle all of this. Part of me doesn't exactly want to give up what we share, Anja."

"We do have a lot of fun together," she admitted with a smirk.

Mum wasn't in Italy for the race. She attended nearly every race but work commitments and a date with a woman she was getting close to meant she wasn't in Imola. But I called her each day with updates on how things were going, and Anja made sure that Mum knew all about Sophia. She was only heading out to her date late in the evening back in London so calling her early meant we had time to talk, and there was plenty of good-natured teasing about Sophia.

Picking her up the next morning from the train station meant being introduced to her father. He was a little star-struck for a couple of minutes, shaking my hand with both of his. What had me smiling is that Sophia probably had a word as he wasn't wearing Ferrari red but Minardi white. Sophia was wearing a Martini & Rosso Minardi polo shirt and a Minardi cap.

Her father, Giacomo, was like a kid in a candy store after we entered the paddock and made our way past all the motorhomes. A few other drivers were already there, stopping to shake their hand each time. I'd gotten to know most of them at least at the surface level since my debut. I'd missed the usual trip to Canada at the invite of Gilles due to my injuries though he and numerous other drivers had called me weekly during my recuperation. We might have been competitors, but no one wanted to see other drivers injured let alone killed.

Morning warm-up was all about making sure the set-up was right. Once I was back in the pits at the end of the session, a couple of the mechanics showed him around the car and even allowed him to sit in the cockpit, Sophia snapping a few pictures. I was busy with other commitments though did manage to sit down with them for a quick lunch.

"What do you do pre-race?" Giacomo asked.

"Anja always gives me a quick massage to help me stay loose. Other than that, it's all about hydration as the sweat during a race means I lose a couple of kilograms. And it's all about staying cool and calm. The worst thing for a driver is to be tense. And nerves are not good either."

"You ever get nervous?" Sophia wondered.

"To be honest, I was a little nervous on the grid in South Africa earlier this year though that was only due to wondering if I still had it. And my debut was a nervous occasion as well. I don't think that would surprise anyone though."

Giancarlo made sure that Giacomo and Sophia were allowed onto the grid to see the final preparations. They hovered nearby after my sighting lap as I had a last-minute debrief with Gabriele. I told him that the car was perfect and that certainly made him smile. After the usual handshakes with the mechanics, I shook Giacomo's hand before I received the usual quick embrace from Anja. Sophia then hugged me tightly. A few of the mechanics burst into laughter as Sophia stepped back blushing. There was more than one insinuation...

Once I was in the cockpit and the visor was down, I cleared my mind of everything except the job at hand. At the end of the formation lap, I pulled up onto my grid slot and waited for the green light. The noise was tremendous as twenty-six cars accelerated away towards the Tamburello corner and then the right-hand sweep into the left-hand corner at Tosa. I'd made a great start, holding off Senna and Peterson behind me while almost getting my car alongside Villeneuve into Tosa.

At the end of the first lap, I was close to Villeneuve in front with Peterson right up my arse as he'd passed Senna during the first lap. It's always difficult trying to attack the car in front while also defending though the power of my Lamborghini V12 meant that I could hold Peterson off during the long blast from the Variante Bassa all the way through to Tosa. I had enough downforce and grip available to keep him back through the twisty bits.

Pulling away over the next few laps, I knew that most cars would be making at least two stops for fuel and tyres. Imola was the sort of track that was heavy on fuel. By the time I made my first stop, Clark and Villeneuve had disappeared, and behind me closing fast were the Renault duo of Alain Prost and Rene Arnoux. They'd dominated practice and the first qualifying session but had suffered all manner of technical problems during second qualifying that saw them drop down the order.

I couldn't hold either of them back over the space of five laps, slipstreaming me through Tamburello and passing me into Tosa, Prost first and then Arnoux a few laps later. Dropping down to fifth was a little disappointing, but things started to change halfway through the race when I passed by a Lotus to the side of the track.

"Clark out. Clark out," Gabriele reported, "Not sure of the issue. Gap to Villeneuve is twenty seconds. Prost twelve and Arnoux eight seconds ahead."

"How is the Ferrari looking?"

"Serene. Arnoux is closing on Prost. Could be interesting."

After the second stops, Villeneuve retained his lead, but Arnoux and Prost were starting to catch him. With fifteen laps to go, I was resigned to staying and finishing in fourth as the gap to Stewart behind me was over ten seconds. Not exactly what I'd hoped for having started third, but at least it was more points in the championship.

Then things started to change. I could almost hear the crowd roaring as I crossed the start / finish line, rounding Tamburello to see a smoking Ferrari to the side of the track. Gabriele reported in that Villeneuve's engine had blown up rather spectacularly just before he entered Tamburello. That left me behind the two Renaults, and I'll admit that I started to hope. The Renaults were blisteringly fast but almost hopelessly unreliable at times.

I was starting to catch them though I knew that would be due to the drivers backing off to try and nurse their cars to the finish. When I started to catch them by a second a lap, I did start to wonder if I wouldn't catch them.

"Prost is slow. Arnoux is past to lead," Gabriele reported, "Chatter is that he's running low on fuel."

With three laps to go, I exited the Variante Bassa to see Prost crossing the finish line. Tearing through Tamburello and down to Tosa, as I crested the hill up to Piratella, it was obvious that Prost was struggling. There was no sign of Arnoux ahead, and by the time we reached Rivazza, I knew that I was going to get past. I was all over his rear end into the Variante Bassa, and as we entered the penultimate lap, I feigned going down the outside after we passed Tamburello before swinging to the left so I had the inside line for Tosa.

The mechanics went wild as I crossed the start / finish line to start the final lap. With no Ferrari interest remaining, as both drivers had retired, the crowd was cheering Minardi on to take the win. But I could only see Arnoux well in the distance, and it was he who would go on to win the San Marino Grand Prix. But after exiting Variante Bassa, I swung towards the pit wall and raised a hand as the mechanics were hanging over the side to cheer me on.

Pulling next to Arnoux in Parc Ferme, I always made sure to shake hands with my fellow drivers before celebrating with my mechanics. Anja, Sophia and Giacomo were near the barriers, removing my helmet before I greeted them. Anja kissed my cheek but, in her excitement, Sophia laid one hell of a kiss on my lips.

"You nearly won, Marco!" she exclaimed excitedly, "You were so close!"

Standing on the second step of the podium was wonderful in one sense in that it was my best result in Formula One. It also sucked in that I was the first loser. The French national anthem played for Arnoux and for Renault as the constructor. After the spraying of champagne, there was the obligatory photograph of the three drivers and team members of the winning constructor before it was the official press conference. I admitted that I knew I was lucky to finish second due to cars retiring though added that it was thanks to the reliability of the Minardi chassis and Lamborghini engine that allowed me to finish. To finish first, first you must finish...

As the team was busy packing things up, I found Sophia and Giacomo in the motorhome, letting them know that I was driving back to Bologna and they were more than welcome to join me and Anja. There were the usual media commitments before a quick catch-up with the sponsors. Being in Italy, Martini & Rosso representatives were everywhere and it would be worse in Monza.

I only escaped the track a couple of hours after the race finished. The roads would still be packed in and around Imola. It took longer than usual to get to Bologna, Giacomo stayed in a hotel nearby to his daughter, dropping both of them off at her apartment. Of course, she'd sent word about who was dropping her off as I was greeted by a couple of rather pretty young women. Giacomo couldn't stop shaking my hand, thanking me over and over again, joking that he might have to put his Ferrari gear in storage and buy a lot of Minardi merchandise in the future.

It wasn't too late when I arrived back at my apartment with Anja. As soon as the door was closed, she leapt on me. I wasn't expecting it, ending up on the couch with Anja straddling my lap. I eventually had to break the kiss and looked at her feeling slightly confused.

"Remember what I promised for when you finished second?" It took a couple of seconds for the memory to return and I probably grinned like an idiot. "I'll need to buy a couple of things. You won't get my butt tonight. You will tomorrow night... And if we really enjoy it, we can add anal to our sexual fun going forward."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely. I told a couple of my friends about my, um, motivational tactic. Although they found it amusing, they admitted that anal sex, when done properly, felt wonderful."

"You realise that I'm happy to finish second regardless."

"But the idea of being in my butt?"

"Is appealing," I admitted.

"Good. Tomorrow night, you're getting all three holes for the first time." She paused before adding, "And make sure you stay in touch with Sophia. She's young, probably a modern woman in many regards. She could probably handle you having fun with me until you're serious with her."

"Don't want to break her heart though."

"That's why you figure out early on what you both want. I'll accept whatever the outcome is. I'd rather not move out, but I'll understand if she finds me living with you a problem."

"I think we'll worry about all of that much later. I mean, I still barely know her and she might not be interested..." I trailed off and Anja gave me a look. "Just being realistic."

Mondays were always the one day when I allowed myself to be slightly lazy. I still headed off to the gym in the morning though it wasn't an intense workout. Two hours of driving a Formula One car on a warm Sunday would leave even the fittest of men (or women) feeling rather tired. Anja was out and about most of the day, leaving me to my solitude which I enjoyed from time to time.

She arrived home just before the time we'd usually have dinner, breezing in with a couple of bags, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek before disappearing to her room. I heard the shower switch on, and Anja walking out a few minutes later in a robe I knew well as it showed off her legs. She prepared a light dinner before she grabbed a bottle of wine and we sat together on the couch.

I didn't drink wine and she only had two glasses. We were chatting away about the previous weekend, and Anja was happy to discuss her role alongside mine in our professional lives. I did ask if she was happy with everything as I knew the constant travel was a grind for everyone involved. She smiled and kissed my cheek before snuggling into me.

"Wouldn't change anything," she said softly, "And I include what we've shared intimately. Wouldn't swap that for anything."

"Do you miss how close we were?"

She was silent for longer than I expected. "Yes," she whispered, "But I can't be in love then watch you die, Mark. And I know what you're going to say..."

"Anja... I understand. You know all about Adriana. If I was just Mark Jones, accountant, I'd probably have never left Australia anyway, but if I had done that and been with Adriana, we'd probably still be together. It takes a strong woman to be the partner of a Formula One driver, aware of the risks we take every single time we get behind the wheel. Testing. Practice. Qualifying. Racing. Danger is always present. Those of us in the cockpit just don't think about it."

Sliding up onto my lap, she slowly took off her robe to show off the sheer black negligee that didn't hide her breasts, glancing down her body to see a tiny pair of black panties. She kissed me hard, probably the most passionate kiss that we'd shared in months. I loved it when she whimpered into my mouth once she felt the tent in my shorts.

"I have a plug inside me," she said upon breaking the kiss, "I don't exactly want you using your mouth back there so I'm already properly lubed. But as I promised. You get three tonight. But I know you love eating me out so want to have some fun first before we make love..."

I couldn't stop the smile. She hadn't used those words in a long time. She just sometimes begged me to fuck her. My hands slid underneath the negligee, enjoying the softness of her skin as we resumed making out. Our relationship had been purely physical since I'd returned from Japan and she ensured there was distance. I had an inkling that she was just a little bit jealous of Sophia...

Sliding off my lap, she quickly pulled my shorts and underwear down as I took off my t-shirt. Though I was keen to pleasure her, any thought of that was put to the side as she inhaled my cock. Her blue eyes gazed up at me with delight as I ran my fingers through her blonde hair. I knew that I wasn't going to last long and warned her. I saw the smile in her eyes as her head bobbed faster, tongue working my shaft, and I groaned more than once as I felt an imminent orgasm.

"Jesus," I muttered.

She chuckled while my cock was still in her mouth, and she knew that I was close to orgasm when my fingers gripped her hair tighter. I warned her one last time just before I fired the first spurt of cum into her mouth, hearing her genuinely moan as she eagerly swallowed like she normally did. And she kept sucking me long after my cock stopped spurting, her eyes shining with delight before she finally released my cock.

"Yummy," she stated softly before running her tongue up and down my shaft, "I love doing that for you, Mark."

"Still appreciate my pre-race blowjob."

"You'll have to find the right sort of woman who'll do that for you. Or a woman who will accept me doing that for you as part of my job."

Sliding up off the floor back onto my lap, I had no problem kissing her as my hands made quick work of her negligee, feeling her fingers caress the back of my head as I had one of her nipples in my mouth seconds later. She murmured that perhaps we should move to my bedroom, easily picking her up as her legs looped around my hips, carrying her towards my bedroom and bed, gently placing her down and taking off her panties. She spread her legs and her pussy glistened with excitement.

Anja knew that I loved going down on a woman, and I had her moaning rather quickly once my mouth was between her legs. I did sometimes wonder what my neighbours might think when I was going down on her and she was busy moaning and occasionally even screaming with delight. When she enjoyed an orgasm that had her entire body shaking, I gazed up into her eyes and saw the need. Not for my tongue but for something else.

We groaned in unison as I slowly sank my cock inside her. "Fuck, I love your cock," she moaned as we didn't waste time in coupling nice and faster, her fingers moving up to caress my back. She kissed me before adding, "Fuck me, Mark. I want to cum on your cock, then you get my arse."

Anja was hot to trot and I loved feeling her moving her hips in time to the thrust of my cock. She had never been the sort of woman to just lie there. Her body was always moving, and we were both making plenty of noise. I loved making her moan and whimper as I started to pump her. And she wasn't shy in telling me just how she wanted me to fuck her.

"Cum in me," she whimpered once I was pounding her harder, feeling her legs wrap around me again, "Fucking love feeling your big dick pumping cum into me." That made me stop and gaze at her. Anja started to blush before she finally whispered, "I'm sleeping in here tonight."

"You can stay every night, Anja. You know that..."

"I guess I'm a little jealous of her... She was so young and pretty, and clearly had a massive crush by the time you dropped her home."

"And you, Anja? How do you feel?"

"I'm scared, Mark," she admitted, "Because I know what might happen, but I hate that I've put that distance. I don't want that distance any longer until you find the girl you're with forever."

She was the first to orgasm, feeling her pussy clinching my cock tightly as I kept pumping away, knowing that I wasn't going to cum quickly after her blowjob. She clutched me tightly after her orgasm, feeling her hot breath on my neck and my ear. She continued to beg me to keep fucking her and she was almost desperate to feel me cum.

"Fucking every night from now on," I growled into her ear, "All night, just sucking, licking and fucking to our hearts' content."

"God yes!" she exclaimed before kissing me hard, "You own my pussy, Mark. And I can't wait to feel you in my arse. Fucking me like this while I'm plugged up is so fucking hot. Can you feel it?"

"Sort of."

When I did finally cum inside her, she whimpered more than once while kissing me. I groaned into her mouth before needing to break the kiss, resting my head on the pillow next to hers. Once I stopped moving, I felt her fingers stroking my back, her legs remaining nice and tight around my hips.

"We're so good together," she whispered, "Mark... I love the life I live with you. I... Thank you."

"I'm glad you're with me too, Anja."

I had a feeling certain other words wanted to be expressed in that moment, but we held back. If we shared those words, it would change things. Pulling out to lie next to her, she rolled onto her side and cuddled into mine, her fingers caressing my chest as I took a moment to catch my breath. What had me laughing rather quickly was her hand caressing my cock, eager to bring life back to it rather quickly. I wasn't really surprised that she had no problem moving her mouth down to it as she enjoyed the taste of her pussy and my cum together. Her blue eyes gazed up at me again with delight as she felt me getting hard again rather quickly.

After repositioning so I was kneeling behind her while she was on her knees and leaning forward, I noticed the base of the plug. She passed back some lube with a smile, telling me to lube up my cock then lube up her arse after I pulled the plug out. Doing as she requested, I ever so carefully started to pull the plug out of her and I was amazed at the size of it.

"I've been practising," she moaned as the plug was halfway out, "I've been wearing smaller plugs over the past few months to get used to it."

"Confident that I'd finally finish second?"

"I'm hoping you'll win soon so we can have fun with another couple of pretty girls..."

"Want some pussy?"

"Partly. I want to see you fuck a couple of others. Maybe my friends? They'd love for you to fuck them." She seemed to shudder once I had the plug out of her. "God, your cock is going to feel fantastic. Slide it in, Mark. I'm ready once you've lubed me."

I thought she'd want fingers and maybe tongue. When I mentioned that, she said that eating her arse wasn't something she wanted me doing, and fingers were not necessary as she'd been wearing the plug all day. I asked how many she had. That's when she glanced back again with a slight blush on her cheeks, admitting that it had been since a month or two after her original motivational conversation.

Placing the head of my cock at her arsehole, I heard her take a deep breath before I slowly started to push against her. She remained still as the head of my cock started to spread her, and when she moaned softly, I stopped as I knew this wasn't going to be easy, wearing a plug beforehand or not. She kept her eyes focused back on me, smiling and nodding for me to keep going. The head of my cock eventually popped inside her, needing to stop and glad that I'd already cum twice.

"Jesus," I muttered.

"I know."

"Hurts?"

She nodded. "Just a little sting. Feels better than I thought though. Give me more, Mark. I want you to be fucking my arse later."

"I'll be gentle and slow until you tell me otherwise."

I took my time to bury the rest of my cock. I couldn't believe how hot her arse felt. I knew it was going to be tight but the warmth was a real surprise. As I slowly buried my cock, I caressed her back and stopped whenever it was obvious that it was causing discomfort. But her eyes remained focused on me before I was finally buried, leaning forward to kiss her.

With one hand at her hip and the other continuing to stroke her back, I started to gently thrust into her. What made me smile was when she was moving back against me and she started to moan even louder. I moved both hands to her hips and upped the tempo a little bit more.

"That's good," she murmured, "Just like that, Mark."

"Okay?"

"Totally doing this again. My god, my friends talked about it and told me how good it could feel."

What felt even better was when I stopped with my cock buried and pulled her back to rest against my chest. She turned her head to kiss me as I resumed thrusting, moving one of my hands down to rest between her legs to fondle her pussy. That had her moaning even louder as I started to pump her a little harder. The way her eyes changed as her enjoyment increased made me grin.

"Fuck me," she whimpered, "Oh my god, Mark!"

As I started to thrust even harder, the sound of our skin slapping together started to echo around the bedroom. The kisses we shared increased in passion before she finally fell forward again, barely raised off the bed except for her arse, and I fell forward to rest on my forearms, not driving my cock too hard though she was moving back against me more and more.

Despite having had two orgasms, I could feel another one starting to arrive. Her shoulder was moving to suggest she was now playing with her pussy at the same time. It was a race to who would cum first. The sounds escaping her were music to my ears, begging me not to stop and almost desperate to feel me cum inside her.

She came first. It was such a good one, her entire body appearing to quiver, that I had to stop with my cock buried as her arsehole was gripping my cock so tightly that I worried I'd hurt her. Once her orgasm passed, she turned her head enough to smile at me and whispered for me to keep going.

"Please cum in me," she whimpered, "Then we can snuggle."

We did just that after I came inside her. She clutched at me tightly as I heard her sniffle though she quickly assured me it was the emotional high of doing something special together, not any pain from having fucked her arse. What had me laughing half an hour later was the application of lube again before she straddled my lap and I felt my cock sliding inside her arse again.

"We're adding this to our fun time together," she told me, "I completely understand what my friends were talking about. I was always so worried about doing this."

"I won't say no to being inside your tight little arse, Anja."

She smiled before leaning down to kiss me, running my fingers through her hair as she slowly but surely increased the rate of movement. When she broke the kiss to rest her forehead against mine, the way she gazed at me had me smiling at her in return.

"Feeling it?" I had to ask.

"Not sure that I'd ever want to do this with another man. I want this to be our thing, Mark."

"Feelings?"

"Too many. Maybe... Maybe we can be close again until you're together with Sophia."

"Or someone else?"

"Whoever you meet."

Anja enjoyed another couple of orgasms as she fondled her pussy while riding me. She then stopped riding me for a couple of minutes, snuggling against my chest as I held her in my arms as she had another moment, hearing her sniffle again a couple of times. I stroked her back as she shuddered a couple of times before she lifted herself back up, hands on my chest as she resumed riding me.

We showered a couple of minutes after I came inside her a fourth and final time. She couldn't stop smiling as we soaped each other up and washed each other down, returning to bed once we'd dried off. Snuggled against me, her fingers ran up and down my chest as I felt her relax.

"Think I'll sleep in here more often. I've missed this," she admitted.

"So have I, Anja. But it was always your decision. I respected that."

"I'm still going to worry all the time, but while I have a job to do, we also have a lot of fun together."

"We do. I do thank Mum every so often for putting us together."

"I do the same thing."

The next couple of weeks before the next race were a lot of fun. I swear Anja did her level best to keep me worn out nearly each and every night.

*****

Pierluigi hit a real purple patch of form from Monaco onwards. For the first time since my debut, the Minardi chassis could handle the tight and twisty circuit. We both qualified in the top ten with my teammate eventually finishing in fourth place. I retired with a dodgy gearbox, eventually stuck in third gear.

A trip over the pond to Canada and Mosport Park earned more points for my teammate, Pierluigi finishing in sixth. I'd qualified in fourth, but luck simply wasn't with me after Imola, my engine exploding barely fifteen laps into the race. Watkins Glen saw us both qualify in the top eight but eliminated in a first-lap pile-up as the cars moved through the Esses. It was lucky that no one was seriously injured.

Back to Europe and the French Grand Prix at Rouen-les-Essarts. Minardi remained competitive as we'd spent time testing after Watkins Glen. Pierluigi was in top form and had found a sweet spot with his car. I was still fast, just suffering a bit of bad luck. And our test driver, Luca Badoer, had no problem putting in hundreds of laps in his efforts to improve the car.

Pierluigi scored another point in France while a lengthy pitstop meant I was stuck down in the lower reaches of the top ten by the end of the race. The British Grand Prix at Silverstone saw more points for Minardi with me in fifth and Pierluigi in sixth. I was pleased to get through the weekend without any major issues. Even Giancarlo had been apologetic for the issues that I'd been suffering, but I understood that the team and engine supplier were pushing everything to the limit. Unreliability was something even the best teams suffered with.

Turbo cars dominated the German Grand Prix at Hockenheim as always though the V12 cars were competitive enough. The turbos might have been fast though still had a habit of blowing up. Even on a track like Hockenheim, the likes of Lotus and Tyrrell with their Ford Cosworth V8s could still mix it from time to time. As for Minardi, we'd turned up with an updated Lamborghini. More power...

It came at the cost of reliability, and neither car saw the chequered flag. But we were now mixing it with Ferrari quite often in qualifying, and I was confident that we were now more powerful than any other V12 engine on the grid.

Zandvoort was a bit of a non-event. We were middle of the pack in both qualifying and the race, the turbo engine cars surprisingly competitive though Clark eventually won at a canter. There was just something about driver, car and track that made him nigh on unbeatable at the track.

And then came the Austrian Grand Prix at the Osterreichring...

The Renault V6 turbos usually dominated qualifying in Austria and this season was no different. Lauda and Piquet in their Brabham-BMWs were right on their tails. Senna and Hunt in their McLaren-Honda turbos were mixing it with them too. Ferrari was competitive as always, but little Minardi and their V12 Lamborghinis were in the hunt as well. Pierluigi and I had completely trimmed down the downforce. Made things tricky through the sweeping bends but we were nearly the fastest through the speed traps.

Somehow, we both qualified in the top six, beating out Lauda, Hunt and the two Ferrari's. Confidence was high on Sunday morning when we arrived at the track. Anja had kept me motivated during the difficult times, and she was looking forward to the upcoming four-week break, having suggested more than once that I was going to be spending most of those four weeks pounding her senseless. The only other thing I might be doing is catching up with Sophia. We hadn't seen each other often as we were both incredibly busy, but we spoke on the phone at least once a week. I was still unsure as to what sort of relationship we'd end up having.

At the green light, Pierluigi made a blistering start and was third heading into the chicane. I was in fifth behind Piquet as the two Renaults of Prost and Arnoux had rocketed away and had already pulled a small gap by the end of the first lap. But within ten laps, Pierluigi was closing in on them while I was putting massive pressure on Piquet. Despite the lack of downforce, I was matching him on the straights.

Things changed during the pitstop sequence, the Minardi mechanics doing a cracking job and putting me out in fourth ahead of Piquet. Pierluigi entered the pits on the tail of Arnoux, exited still on his tail, and passed him on the front straight at the end of that lap to take second. He was six seconds behind Prost...

For lap after lap, my teammate closed the gap on Prost. It was a known fact that Renault turned their engines up for qualifying but then had to reduce boost for the race for at least a modicum of reliability. He was right on the tail of Prost by the time of the second stop of the race. Two laps after that, he was through to lead.

I was already past Arnoux into third place and was soon catching Prost at over a second a lap. The set of tyres I had gave plenty of grip. My engine was crisp. I was able to manhandle the car through the corners and was the fastest through the speed traps. With ten laps to go, I was on the tail of the Renault, Pierluigi around five seconds up the road, keeping to a steady pace to make sure he would make it to the end.

Prost didn't even bother fighting me too hard as I eventually passed him into the chicane after the front straight. Whether he was suffering a problem or not, I didn't really care. I was through into second.

Minardi was now leading the Austrian Grand Prix with their other car in second place.

All was quiet on the radio during those final few laps except for Gabriele counting down each lap and giving me the gap to Pierluigi in front. With five laps to go, I was only a second or so behind, but I wasn't going to put him under pressure or attempt to pass. I remembered our conversation. The word that I'd given as a man. I knew he was driving at a few tenths slower simply to conserve his car.

That's when Giancarlo's voice came over the radio.

"Marco..."

"It's okay, Giancarlo. I gave my word to him. This is his day. I'll hold station behind him."

"Thank you, Marco. You've both been magnificent today."

Pierluigi Martini won the Austrian Grand Prix for Minardi. The mechanics were almost falling onto the front straight as he crossed the finish line. I was only a second behind him to finish in second place. Even the crowd seemed to realise that it was a momentous day for both drivers and the team as a whole. Pierluigi stopped to collect an Italian flag as I drove us to drive alongside him. He noticed and gave me a wave. I knew him well. I knew he'd be crying the entire cool-down lap.

Parking up in Parc Ferme, he was still in his car as I hopped out of mine and crossed to him. Offering my hand, he stood up and practically collapsed against me. Even with all the noise, I could hear him sobbing. He'd been racing in Formula One for over a decade, often without any real success.

"Thank you, Marco," he stated, "Thank you."

"You were the better driver on the day, Pier. I knew you were slowing down for a reason. It wouldn't have been right anyway. You deserve today."

We celebrated with the mechanics while Giancarlo would be joining us on the podium. His cheeks were stained with tears as he greeted us. Meeting in the waiting room before heading out on the podium, Prost greeted us both with a handshake before Pierluigi took a moment to himself in the corner, crouching down as his shoulders shook. Giancarlo must have hugged me every thirty seconds before we were told to head out.

Prost headed out first, a polite wave to the crowd, before I followed him out, hearing the roar of the Minardi mechanics below us. Then Giancarlo walked out and it was deafening. Pierluigi walking out was like a rock concert. Standing on the podium, I kept my eye on him as he removed his hat as the Italian national anthem started. He couldn't contain his sobs. Giancarlo was a mess at the same time. When he was handed his winner's trophy, Pierluigi roared with delight, much to the amusement of me and Prost. Giancarlo accepted his trophy and hugged it tightly to his chest. I knew he'd end up sleeping with it for the next four weeks.

After the spraying of champagne, we gathered on the top step for the usual photo. I'll admit that the three of us milked the moment, Pierluigi eventually sitting on the edge of the podium, soaking it all in.

I sat next to him with Giancarlo on his other side. "The only greater days in my life are getting married and the birth of my children, Marco," he stated before he turned to Giancarlo, "It's time, my friend. I will make the announcement in the press conference."

"Are you sure, Pier?"

"My dream is realised, Giancarlo. And I am tired. My wife is down there with my children. I don't want to worry her any longer. Minardi is now at the top, at least for today. I can be pleased with my efforts."

I knew what Pierluigi was talking about. As we gathered a few minutes later for the official press conference, there was a hush as he cleared his throat and said that he wanted to say something.

"Today is the culmination of a lifelong dream," he told the assembled audience of journalists, "I joined Minardi over ten years ago as a fresh-faced youngster simply hoping to prove myself. The first few years for both me and the team were tough. Sometimes barely able to get onto the grid. Slowly but surely, we've worked our way forward, improving all the time until we're now at the point where we are scoring points regularly and now able to call ourselves Grand Prix winners.

Many drivers on the grid dream of being a World Champion. Although it is a lovely dream, I've always been realistic in my ambitions. Minardi and I have grown together through the years. Many of them were hard, with lots of graft and toil for no reward. Today is the culmination of all those efforts. But I also can't ignore the sacrifices I have made to just achieve this lone victory.

And with my good friend next to me..." He glanced my way and smiled. "I know the future of Minardi is bright. And having won my first race, I can now retire with pride in a job well done. The Australian Grand Prix in November will be my last race as a Formula One driver."

There was more than one gasp of surprise.

"I love being a Formula One driver. Few other things have brought me as much pleasure as getting behind the wheel of a car and driving it as fast as possible. But I have a wife who has watched me face danger every single time I head out on track. And I have small children that I want to make sure I see grow up and live their own dreams. For those reasons alone, I will retire at the end of this season."

The press conference was mostly about that announcement. Speaking to Sky Sports UK afterwards, I admitted that he hadn't told me anything official, but there had been one or two conversations that might have suggested that he was ready to pull the plug on his career. When asked about his possible replacement, I admitted that I had no idea, and it would be Giancarlo's decision in the end.

We enjoyed the team photo afterwards, two pit boards stating Pierluigi Martini was first, and Mark Jones was second. There was more spraying of champagne before Pierluigi spent a little private time with his wife and young children. Every single driver on the grid, and I mean every single one, walked down to the Minardi motorhome to congratulate Pierluigi on his win, many expressing no real surprise that he now wanted to retire. Having raced for over a decade in the sport, some retired knowing that their luck might simply run out one day.

Anja did ask the next day during the journey back to Bologna if I was disappointed to finish second once again.

"No," I assured her, "Yesterday was Pierluigi's day. He deserved to win. If it had been anyone else in front, I would have closed and attacked without hesitation. But I gave him my word last season. If he was leading and I was second, I would not attack. Giancarlo is the heart and soul of this team. It bears his name. But Pierluigi? He's part of the fabric, the DNA of this team as well. He's been with the team since the start, when they were struggling to qualify and barely finishing a race. He deserved yesterday for all the trials and tribulations, the days of heartache and despair."

"And your day will come soon enough," she stated, "I guess you'll be the number one driver next season?"

"Maybe. I guess it will depend on who Giancarlo hires. I think Luca deserves a crack at Formula One, but he's been our test driver for the past two years so he might be a bit rusty. He could attempt to poach a driver from another team though it would depend on who. Giancarlo won't want anyone who would disrupt the harmony of the team. Pierluigi and I have worked well together these past three years, and even before that when I was just the test driver."

We spent three days in Bologna before I gave Sophia a call. She was excited to hear from me as always, and even more excited when I asked if she wanted to meet for dinner. Anja was as supportive as always, knowing that Sophia would be on holiday from university at the same time as Formula One.

She agreed to dinner and drinks on Friday night. I didn't intend on drinking too much so picked her up in my new Audi R8, an updated model from the first one that I'd received when I joined Minardi officially as their Formula One driver. Lamborghini asked me more than once if I wanted one of their cars, but they were so wide that driving one around Bologna just wasn't a sensible idea.

I picked a small restaurant in the hope that it would give us some privacy, but my face was now rather well-known around Bologna at least. However, Italians are rather respectful when it was obvious that I wanted to enjoy some privacy. Sophia looked gorgeous in what I would have called a little black dress, her shoulders bare, the hem to her knees, and showing tasteful cleavage. She'd styled her hair, light make up on her face, but the one present thing on her face was a beautiful smile.

We talked about her studies which she was in her final year. She wanted to talk about how my career was going, showing a genuine interest in my feelings when it came to standing on the podium, and did wonder if I was disappointed about Austria. I probably surprised her a little bit when I told her that I wasn't. I was delighted for Pierluigi though the immediate announcement of his retirement did catch nearly everyone by surprise.

It was only during drinks at a nearby bar that the conversation turned to more intimate matters. Her curiosity about my sex life had me chuckling as she probably had an idea that most drivers were like James Hunt, smoking, drinking and fucking their way across the globe. The thing is, he was actually happy in a relationship with a former glamour model and there was talk that he was thinking about proposing. Many of the drivers were family men, married with children.

"What about you, Sophia?" I had to ask after telling her about Adriana and Anja, while also talking about my mother and sister in vague terms, just that my first lover was an older woman, and I'd then dated her daughter after the mother suggested that she was more age appropriate.

When she started to blush, I did wonder what her reply would be. "I'm still a virgin, Marco," she finally told me, "I intend on staying a virgin until the day I'm married, and I will lose it when we consummate our marriage. I don't intend on taking birth control until after I've had at least a couple of children. And before you ask, no, it's not due to religion. It's just a personal preference."

"Has it made dating difficult?"

That's when she smirked and I was left wondering what she was going to say. "I've had a few boyfriends who dumped me very quickly once I told them my plans. What do you think, Marco?"

"You're entitled to live your life however you choose. And any boyfriend and then fiancé will have to accept that, and if they wish to love you in such a manner, should then marry you. Of course, they won't just marry you to get into your panties, but I guess it would be a symbol of your love for each other that he's willing to wait and that you want to marry him to be your first."

She moved her hand across the small table to rest on my mine. "Sex isn't just about your penis in my pussy, is it?"

"Well, I think that's what most people think when the word sex is mentioned."

"What about foreplay? Is that sex?"

I gave it thought before I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, if I was in a relationship and my girlfriend or whatever said you sucked another guy's cock, or had her pussy eaten, I'd consider that sex and cheating. Hell, I'd be pretty pissed if she just kissed another guy."

"What about anal sex?"

I nearly spat the drink I was sipping all over the table before I stared at her. "Um... I mean, I know all about it, to be honest."

"Anja told me that you've been enjoying a lot of it these last few months."

"Yeah, she told me that you two chat quite often. It's a little weird, in all honesty."

"I've never done it before, Marco. But if any previous boyfriend had given me the chance to explain, I'd have told him that he can't have my pussy until we're married, but more than one girl I know that intends on the same thing found real joy in anal sex."

I definitely stared at her before I had to ask, "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. I want to enjoy at least some sort of sex before I'm married. My husband will get my pussy. I won't be on birth control and want to start a family immediately. Before that, I won't be giving my body away to just any man that might interest me, but I'm also not a nun. And sex is meant to be enjoyable and fun."

I was silent for a few seconds, sipping at my drink, before I finally asked, "Are you suggesting something here, Sophia?"

"I'm sure you might think that I just have a bit of a crush on you or something..."

"Well, yeah, but we've also spent the past few months talking, getting to know each other. I think we have a friendship, at least."

"Would you like something more than that?"

"You do realise my life is... Well, Anja and I sleep together quite often. I'm not monogamous at the moment. Anja made me promise that I would tell any prospective partner the truth about my life. For example, Anja gives me a blowjob before each qualifying session and before the race. It does relax me."

"I know you're not monogamous. Anja explained it to me." She gripped my hand tighter. "Marco, I think it's obvious that I really like you. The fact you picked me out of the crowd that morning at Imola. I lived on that high for weeks afterwards. And then you kept in touch with me, getting to know me, being genuinely interested in me and my life. I started to think that maybe... Maybe you'd be almost perfect to be my first."

I sipped at my drink again before I asked, "Want to be my personal guest at Monza?"

"I'd love that."

"And you can stay with me if you'd like."

"Anja?" When I smirked, she started to giggle. "Don't go getting any ideas," she warned me, "I'm not interested in women..."

"She told you her idea for when I win my first race?"

"I know she offered her butt for finishing second, but she didn't tell me about winning."

"She's going to invite a couple of her friends for fun. She even suggested you."

"Finish on the podium at Monza and you'll totally get my butt, Marco." She then realised what she'd blurted out and started to giggle. "Hmmm, I think this cocktail is rather strong. And this conversation is arousing the hell out of me."

"Want to dance?"

Within seconds, she was moulded to my body as we moved slowly to the music. The first kiss we shared suggested that we liked each other quite a bit, and I made her giggle when my hands moved down her back to cup that delightful little derriere she had. When she pulled back to gaze at me, it was with the eyes of a woman completely besotted with the man she was with at that moment. And there was no doubt that I looked at her exactly the same way.

We remained on the dance floor most of the evening, only returning to our small table to sip at our drinks. It was early morning by the time I escorted her outside to my car. I'd sipped at juice for the past few hours so was fine to drive though remained careful driving her home to her apartment. Escorting her to the front door of her apartment block, we shared another passionate kiss that neither of us wanted to end. When we finally pulled apart, the colour in her cheeks amused me.

"I don't know if we'll get married, Marco, but I meant what I said about Monza. I'd love you to be my first." She paused and whispered, "Part of me would want more than that..." The way she looked at me, she didn't need to say in words what she meant. Wedding bells. A white dress. And perhaps only being a one-man woman.

"As long as you're sure."

"I am. How will I get to Monza?"

"You'll come with me, Anja and the team. We'll organise it all once we're closer to time."

Anja was waiting for me to wake up the next morning, walking out into the kitchen to find a plate of food already waiting for me, Anja sipping at a mug of tea. She asked me for details of the night before once I started eating. I didn't know how much to mention, but vaguely suggested that Sophia was interested in starting a sexual relationship with me, aware that I wasn't interested in monogamy for the time being.

"Mark, she's got the biggest crush on you. She's going to be living out her ultimate fantasy. And she's told me about her intentions when it comes to sex and marriage."

"She has?"

"Of course. She came to another woman for advice. I explained how our relationship works, and that's when she asked me about blowjobs and anal sex."

"I never ventured, but what about eating pussy?"

"She'd enjoy it, I reckon. The only thing she doesn't want is a penis in her pussy until she's married."

"I don't quite get why she'd accept me eating her out but..."

"Because she considers sex as making love and given that she wants to get married and start a family immediately, I wouldn't be surprised if she organised the wedding so she's at her most fertile that night."

"Um, I think she's already insinuated that..."

"With you?" I managed a nod as she started to chuckle. "Yeah, she's totally living her fantasy. Just don't break her heart."

"I'll try not to."

*****

Sophia loved her three days in Monza. We'd turned up for the Italian Grand Prix after a rather ordinary race for both me and Pierluigi at the Belgian Grand Prix, held at Zolder. No points were scored though we did finish the race in the top ten. It was a race of rather surprising reliability, even for the turbo cars, though Clark won in his Lotus and was on the verge of sealing another championship.

Being my guest, what amused me yet again was Maria taking her under her wing, making sure she was kept amused while I was being pulled a dozen different ways. Being the Italian Grand Prix, representatives from Martini & Rosso were there in great numbers, and being what was considered the second Italian team, I still had numerous commitments outside of driving my car. Italian television was very eager to interview me whenever possible. Pierluigi usually took care of all that being the team leader. He'd already laughingly warned me to expect to be dragged into television studios come the next season for constant interviews.

Ferrari, Minardi and the other little Italian teams, the likes of Osella and Coloni, will always turn up at Monza in the hope of impressing in front of their home fans. Ferrari would normally have a special engine tuned up for the long straights. Lamborghini did their best to deliver a special engine for the Italian Grand Prix.

Turbo engines were always expected to dominate due to the fast nature of the track, but there were enough chicanes and twisty bits that meant the ground effect naturally aspirated cars could just about match them. To the surprise of nearly everyone in the paddock, it was a French team that dominated qualifying. Matra and Renault had been rather miffed at seeing a Ferrari one-two at the French Grand Prix and had used the French press to suggest they would be looking for revenge at Monza.

Jacques Laffite took pole for Ligier-Matra with his teammate, Patrick Depailler, in third. Rene Arnoux was second for Renault, with Alain Prost fourth in the other Renault. The Italian press went bonkers, the front pages of the Sunday newspapers imploring the Italian teams to beat the French.

Germany and the United Kingdom ended up winning the Italian Grand Prix, Niki Lauda taking victory in a Brabham-BMW. It was hilarious because the Italians didn't know whether to cheer for a driver that they had once and, in many ways, still revered or be unhappy about the fact a Ferrari didn't finish on the podium. Minardi had a shocker after both cars qualified in the top ten. I retired within ten laps of the start due to my engine detonating on the way down to the Parabolica. Pierluigi made it to half-distance before he pulled into the pits with a gearbox problem.

Sophia snuggled against me in my room in the motorhome as I finished watching the race on television. She was disappointed for me though I told her that retirements were part of the game. Everything on a Formula One car was pushed to the limit each and every session. Things were always bound to fail eventually.

"We can still have sex," she whispered, turning my head to leave a soft kiss on her lips, "I'd love to be intimate with you, Mark."

"There's no rush, Sophia. Trust me on that, it's worth waiting for."

"You mean wait to have sex until I'm married?"

"Well, I mean, that's entirely up to you. I just mean that we should make love, even if it's anal, because we both want to do it. Now before you worry, I'd love to have sex with you." That earned the sort of kiss that would have had my hands elsewhere though I behaved myself. "I know you like me as who I am and not just Mark Jones, Formula One driver. But part of me would rather our first time..."

She met my eyes, and it took her only seconds to comprehend. "That means we'd get married," she whispered.

"Exactly," I whispered back, caressing her cheek, "But I'm not ready for that, Sophia. And you need to graduate, settle down in life and..."

"Can we date?"

"We can, but you do realise that I'll still be having fun."

"I don't care," she insisted, "We're not making a commitment to each other just yet. But I really like you just for you, Mark. You being a Formula One driver is just a bonus."

"We can figure things out. Keep in contact with Anja as well."

"I really like her. And she really likes you, Mark."

I sighed as I nodded. "I know," I said softly.

I had three more races of the season to go. The Portuguese Grand Prix at Estoril saw both cars finish and I scored a couple of points for fifth place. Pierluigi had been looking good for at least a point until a slow last stop for tyres put him well down the field.

Arriving in Japan for the race at Suzuka, I received more than one question pre-race about my thoughts and feelings given that I was returning to the scene of my massive accident. I assured anyone who asked that I didn't give the accident from last year a thought. What happened, happened, and there was no point continuing to worry about it. If I did, I would have never set foot in a Formula One car again.

The best revenge was turning up and doing a great job. And that's exactly what I did, qualifying in fifth and finishing fourth. Pierluigi was well and truly winding down in his career, barely qualifying in the top ten and finishing sixth. The team was delighted with my performance as they were more worried about things than I was.

And finally, the Australian Grand Prix. Everyone was in Adelaide. Anja was there as usual, of course. Mum had been skipping more races than usual as she was focusing on her career. She's recently been promoted and was also enjoying life back in London. I flew Sophia out to Australia as she'd finished all her assignments and exams. And my sister flew in domestically from Sydney.

Mum had already met Sophia and instantly fell in love with her. She'd talked to me more than once on the phone and suggested that although she'd told me to have my fun, Sophia was wife material. It made me chuckle though it was something worth thinking about. Candice, my sister, hadn't met Sophia and they were firm friends within five minutes of being introduced. A few of my mechanics were busy laughing at me when they suggested I now had four women to rule my life.

They probably weren't wrong.

There is always a carnival atmosphere for the last race. The two championships for drivers and constructors had already been wrapped up. The drivers retiring were looking forward to their final race. Being the lone Australian on the grid meant that I was being pulled in a thousand different directions whenever I wasn't in the car. What I did like seeing was a lot more white in the grandstands with hundreds of fans wearing Martini Minardi colours.

And I repaid all that support by putting my car third on the grid. You could barely wipe the smile off my face during the short interview at the end of qualifying. No other Australian driver had ever finished on the podium at the Australian Grand Prix. To be the first would be something special.

Thankfully, the day dawned with bright sunshine, and with temperatures expected to rise, it was going to be a real race of attrition and tough on tyres. After the morning warm-up, I sat down with Fabrizio, Gabriele and Pierluigi as we discussed the race and expectations. Pierluigi didn't care where he finished, he just wanted to cross the finish line and end his career safely. I didn't blame him. I wanted a podium, and we agreed on a three-stop strategy. Perhaps slower in terms of time spent in the pits, but I would start on softer tyres than most of my competitors and keep using those same tyres. More grip, just didn't last as long.

Being a somewhat tight and twisty track, with just the long back straight giving the more powerful cars a chance to stretch their legs, it was a real mixed-up grid. At the green light, I followed Clark into the first corner, nipping past Jackie Stewart's Tyrrell into the first chicane. As I crossed the line to complete the first lap, I swear that I heard the roar of the crowd over the noise of the engines.

Clark's nimble Lotus slowly pulled away from me. I did my best to keep up, but the combination of driver and car was working in harmony. And I was busy fending off Stewart, Hill in his BRM and the Ferrari of Villeneuve behind me. I wasn't exactly holding them up, but I wasn't pulling away from them either.

When I pulled in for my first stop long before anyone, I felt my heart sink as I wondered if the tactics were the right thing. But when I put in the fastest lap of the race two laps after my stop and was catching those in front of me by over a second a lap, I felt confident that perhaps, just perhaps, I'd get a podium. Passing isn't always easy in Adelaide, the best passing point being the end of the back straight.

By the time of my second stop, I'd worked my way back into the top six. Clark was only a one-stop strategy, nursing his tyres and fuel. He was such a smooth driver that he'd probably stop, they'd check the tyres and realise he could have done the whole race on them. Everyone else was stopping at least twice.

As the laps counted down, Gabriele reported in that cars were dropping out here and there, particularly those in front of me. It wasn't a surprise to hear that the Renaults and most of the BMW-powered cars had blown up. The temperature was in the low thirties Celsius, and even the naturally aspirated cars were struggling.

Twenty laps to go and I was in fourth, my last stop complete. My soft tyres should survive the pounding they were about to take. Clark was well out in the lead, and I wouldn't catch him. Rosberg in the Williams-Ford had worked his way up to second, third was Stewart's Tyrrell. I caught him at over a second a lap and passed him with twelve laps to go, the crowd roaring me on as I crossed the line in third place.

Rosberg had a reputation as a real hard charger, one of the fastest men on the grid. It was reckoned if he had a turbo car, he'd constantly be qualifying right near the front though would probably blow up his car too often due to a heavy right foot. He was also a chain smoker, and used to seeing him alongside James Hunt with a cigarette in his mouth whenever they weren't in their cars.

I caught him hand over fist for lap after lap. Five laps to go and I was on his tail, and I powered past him down the long back straight, already well in front by the time we made it to the sharp right-hand corner.

It wasn't a victory, but another second place in what had proven to be a rather successful season was something that I could be proud of. Clark crossed the line to win, but I think I received even louder cheers to cross the line in second. I picked up an Australian flag from a marshal just after the chicane and took my time making my way back to the pits during the cool-down lap.

The team celebrated as always with a team photo. I hadn't been aware that Pierluigi had finished his last race in Formula One in fifth place. We shared a long embrace back in the motorhome. Not only was he my teammate but I considered him a good friend. Not too unusual as there was a real comradery between the drivers. Sure, there was the occasional falling out between drivers over something or other, but there was no real hatred between anyone. The sport was too dangerous to allow anger and hate to spill over onto the track.

Giancarlo organised a function for our arrival back in Italy. Minardi had enjoyed their most successful season to date, finishing fifth in the Constructor's Championship, while both drivers had finished in the top ten in the Driver's Championship. We had scored points more consistently than ever, and with the hope that the car for next season would be even better, and that Lamborghini would continue to make improvements, there was hope that things could continue to improve.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind?" I asked Pierluigi during the evening. It was held in a grand ballroom in Bologna. The guest list included some of the rich and famous. Numerous sponsors. Friends and family.

"No. I'm happy with my career, Marco. Sure, I think there is a good chance that Minardi will continue to improve but winning in Austria. That was enough for me." He held the hand of his lovely wife. "I want to spend more time at home with my wife and my children. I've missed them a lot for the past few years."

"Anything lined up?"

"Yes. Occasionally punditry work for Italian television. No travelling overseas, and I'll generally only arrive for Saturday or Sunday. If I do feel the urge to race again, I won't be doing anything international. European only so my children can come and join us easily."

Anja and Sophia had both been on my arm. I still hadn't been intimate with the latter. As for Anja, having finished second in Australia, I'd pounded her something fierce in her hotel room that night. Sophia wasn't upset that I didn't come to the room we had shared as she knew that Anja was simply keeping her word. Second place meant anal sex.

To be honest, we were enjoying that more often than not anyway. She even joked that it prevented any pregnancy scares.

But that evening, Sophia and Anja shared my bed together for the first time. Sophia had enjoyed her evening and was feeling a little amorous. Anja then took her into the bathroom where they were gone for quite a few minutes. The door finally opened to reveal both women wearing sheer negligees that hid nothing, and the fact they were not wearing panties meant I saw everything.

Sophia was blushing brightly as she joined me on the bed. "You're not doing anything," Anja assured me, "She's just a horny little thing and wanted to do something nice for you. She needs to know that you find her beautiful."

"Sophia..." I met her eyes and saw the desperation for approval. Pulling her into my body, I kissed her hard and felt her melt against me. "Sophia, I have two absolutely beautiful women in my life right now."

"Mark," Anja whispered, "She wants to make love. She really wants to make love. No, she's still waiting for marriage, but she wants to be intimate with you. She wants me here because she knows it's not going to be easy."

"Are you sure?" I asked Sophia.

"More than anything," she replied before kissing me, "I've been wearing plugs for the last few weeks. Even wore them in Australia. I really wanted you to be with me there but... I was scared. So I talked a lot with Anja. First, I'm going to learn how to suck your dick." I couldn't help but chuckle at how blunt she was. "Anja is my friend, Marco, and I wanted her here with me to help. I've never done anything with a man before."

"Oh... I thought maybe..."

She smiled shyly at me. "Any boy I dated lost interest as soon as I said I wanted to wait for marriage. Never even gave me a chance to explain that I was willing to do other things."

And that's how I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed with Sophina on her knees between my legs, Anja teaching her how to blow me. It was far too exciting, making Anja chuckle when I admitted that I was going to cum rather quickly. Sophia gazed up at me with such an intense look in her eyes, they closed when I caressed her cheek and she looked as happy as Anja always did when she was pleasuring me.

"Are you going to be a good girl and swallow?" Anja asked her.

Sophia met my eyes and the fact she immediately nodded had me smiling. Then I warned her that I was about to cum. Sophia squealed when the first shot fired into her mouth, and I didn't blame her for the fact she didn't swallow all that much. She said it wasn't the taste, it was the texture. It was foreign to her and she just wasn't used to it.

"But I will get used to it," she said to almost assure me, "I want to please you so much, Marco."

I pleased her in return, showing her entire body in affection. Her breasts were absolute perfection. I found out that her nipples were incredibly sensitive and she even admitted to a minor orgasm while giving those plenty of attention. I found more erogenous zones on her body that made her quiver with excitement. As for her pussy, it glistened with excitement and her scent aroused me further.

Sophia loved telling me that she masturbated frequently. She did it because she knew it aroused me. And while she wanted to wait until marriage to have sex, she did have a small toy that she used when masturbating. When I was ready to go down on her, I asked her again if using a finger or two was okay.

"Of course," she moaned, "It's where my special spot is, of course."

I fell in love with her taste almost immediately. What amused me was that Anja was next to us and was busy fondling herself at the same time. Meeting my eyes, she smirked and told me to focus on Sophia. That's what I did, and it barely took a couple of minutes for her to cry out in orgasm before she then begged me to give her a cuddle.

Resting her head against my chest, she wasn't crying, it was just a big moment for her. As I caressed her back, she giggled as Anja cuddled her from the other side. "Are you ready?" Anja asked her.

"Maybe just one or two more times," Sophia replied, "I've daydreamed about Marco doing that for me..."

After she enjoyed more than a couple more orgasms, she needed a few minutes to relax and recover before Anja had her roll onto her back, a pillow just above her butt for elevation before I helped apply lube to all the important bits. She watched me with an intense gaze as I positioned myself, hearing her gasp when I pressed the head of my cock against her. The plug that had been inside her rested on the small table next to the bed.

"Ready?" I had to ask.

She nodded far more eagerly than I thought she would. As I pushed forward, I felt her pull away. She realised immediately and smiled rather shyly, moving her hands so they rested on the back of my neck.

"A little scared," she whispered, "I know it's going to hurt a bit."

"Not too much," Anja assured her, "We've done as much as possible, but a first time is always difficult."

I kept my eyes on her face as I slowly pushed forward again, Sophia not moving away as the head of my cock ever so slowly slid inside her. She whimpered more than once, her brow creasing as I knew it wasn't an entirely comfortable experience to begin. But once the head of my cock slipped in, she released a deep breath, making a smile when I leaned down to kiss her.

"Okay?" I whispered.

"Stings a bit," she admitted, "I know it'll get better soon."

"More?"

"Everything," she replied with a smile, "It might be my arse, but we're making love, Marco."

I took my time burying my length. I knew it was hurting her a little bit. It was etched on her face. But when she opened her eyes once I was completely buried, the smile on her face let me know that she was also enjoying the experience. Sharing a kiss as I started to gently thrust, I was pleased that she started to move her hips after a couple of minutes. I never made my movements too fast and definitely not too hard. I loved the little moans and whimpers she made. She was ever so eager to kiss me constantly. Anja watched without saying a word for the time being.

"Feels good now," Sophia whispered, "Feels really good, Marco."

As I wasn't ready to cum, I suggested after a few minutes that she have a go riding me. That's when Anja piped up, stating that would be perfect as Sophia would be in control. When I was lying back, Sophia had great fun lubing me up again before I watched her slowly sink down on my cock. With her hands resting on my chest, she figured out what felt good, leaning down constantly to kiss me.

Then she had an orgasm. I think it caught her completely by surprise as she collapsed onto my chest and needed a little weep. I held her tightly as I caressed her back.

"That was a good one," she finally murmured, "Might be one of those lucky girls that can cum by doing this."

"I usually need to play with my pussy to cum when he's in my arse," Anja stated, "Might have to see if I can cum without doing that next time he's buried there."

We eventually rolled into missionary again for when it was my time to cum. By that stage, Sophia had her legs wrapped around me, my head next to hers on the pillow as I thrust away and I filled her bottom. She giggled as it was a weird feeling for her though she immediately admitted that she loved it.

The three of us enjoyed a shower together before returning to the bedroom, Sophia then asked if I could make love to Anja. I was surprised at the request as the one thing I did worry about was jealousy. Sophia kissed me on the cheek and assured me the last thing she felt was jealousy, aware of Anja's feelings for me and the fact we had a long-standing sexual relationship.

Anja showed off, particularly once she was on top and riding me hard and fast. She came hard while doing so, unable to stop smiling as she didn't think about stopping. We only stopped fucking once I'd cum inside her, and I ended the night in the middle of two women that I adored.

"How do you feel about last night?" Anja asked Sophia at breakfast the next morning.

"My bottom is a little sore," Sophia admitted to my chuckles, "But I loved it. I'm not sure it's something I can do all the time, but... I want to feel that intimacy with Marco. And I can handle it. I mean handle the idea of you two together. And if Marco wants to have fun, I'm not expecting anything other than some dates for the time being."

"You'll be busy yourself?" I had to ask.

"I'm just starting out in my new career after the new year. I want to get married and start a family, but I'd like to focus on my career until around twenty-five."

"Really?" Anja asked, "You'll stay a virgin, technically at least, until then..."

Sophia smiled and rested her hand on top of mine. "Marco will keep me well and truly satisfied for the time being, if that interests him."

"It does," I assured her, "It absolutely does."

Sophia had to move out of her apartment and ended up living only a couple of streets away from where I called home. I had no intention of moving out of my apartment, and no real ambition to live where many other drivers did in Monaco. What I did a couple of weeks after the gala was sign a new contract with Minardi. I was now the number one driver, signed for three years, and would now be making a couple of million dollars a year.

The hope was that Minardi would continue to rise next season. I could only hope the upward trajectory would continue until we were champions of the world.

*****

A/N - The next chapter will be in the Group Sex category.

For those unaware, Minardi never achieved a podium, a race victory, a pole position or a fastest lap during their time in Formula One between 1985 to 2005. The highest position that a Minardi ever finished a race was fourth position. They achieved this position three times in total - the 1991 San Marino Grand Prix, the 1991 Portuguese Grand Prix (both achieved by Pierluigi Martini) and the 1993 South African Grand Prix (achieved by Christian Fittipaldi). The team scored 38 points in total, their best seasons being 1993 and 2005 where the team scored seven points. 1989 and 1991 saw the team score six points. The team failed to score points in ten out of twenty-one seasons.

Despite this lack of success, Minardi was always a popular team in the paddock and with fans as they were always considered real underdogs compared to the bigger teams. Their cars were usually well-designed considering the limited budget available.

The Minardi name disappeared off the Formula One grid at the end of 2005 when the team was bought by Red Bull, renaming it Scuderia Toro Rosso for the 2006 season.

When Sebastian Vettel won the 2008 Italian Grand Prix for Toro Rosso, fans of Minardi liked to believe that it was a win with Minardi DNA as many of the mechanics would have remained with the renamed team as Scuderia Toro Rosso was still based in Faenza.

1. Despite the difficulty with sex due to his injury, Mark found ways to keep his relationship with Anja motivated, with blowjobs still being common and analog activities continuing between them.
2. Mum, aware of Mark's relationship with Anja, spoke to her often and encouraged her son to have some fun, offering him several numbers of interested women.
3. As they prepared for the South African Grand Prix, Mum flew with Mark, Anja, and the team, grateful for her son's survival and determined to support him through the rest of the season.

Read also:

• Taken by Surprise!
• Letting Her Stay - Ch. 04
• What Plays in Mykonos...
• The Blue Boy Bar Ch. 02