#lestappenoneshots

[l-estappen]

Charles_Leclerc: he is very fast, he is very cool, he is very scary and very brave, he is everything. Leo 👑🤍

[l-estappen]

Charles & Leo 🐶🤍 Monaco May, 8th 2024 Credits: slavisa_rdlc

[l-estappen]

Charles_Leclerc: Good to be home 🩵

[l-estappen]

Melodies & the Sea 🎵⚓️

Thursday, May 9 

The soft glow of the moonlight seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle luminescence over the room, shrouded in darkness. I lay there, caught between the realms of sleep and wakefulness, the remnants of jet lag tugging at my consciousness while feeling the warmth of Max's body against mine.  

His back was pressed against my front, fitting perfectly together as if we were two pieces of a puzzle meant to be joined. I brushed my lips against the nape of his neck, relishing the softness of his skin beneath my touch. Max stirred, a contented murmur escaping his lips as he unconsciously leaned back into my embrace, making me almost tumble out of our bed. 

What the heck? 

Blinking away the remnants of drowsiness, I realized we were teetering precariously at the edge of the mattress. Peering over Max's shoulder, I saw the reason. Jimmy, Sassy, and Leo had claimed the majority of the bed as their own, sprawling out and taking up more space than seemed physically possible for their small bodies. I couldn't help but smile at the sight, but when my eyes drifted to the clock on the bedside table, my smile faltered at the ungodly hour. 

Carefully disentangling myself from Max's warm embrace, I slid out of bed, trying not to disturb him. His unconscious whimper made my heart swell with tenderness, and I couldn't resist leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead as he turned to nuzzle the pillow where I had been lying, hugging it as if seeking my presence even in his sleep. 

With a soft sigh, I tiptoed across the room, carefully closing the bedroom door behind me. The tranquility of the dawn embraced me as I reached the living room, and I paused by the floor-to-ceiling windows, captivated by the mesmerizing sight of the moon's reflection dancing on the surface of Monaco's coastline. 

My gaze wandered across the room, eventually settling on the elegant white Steinway upright piano that gleamed softly, inviting me to sit and lose myself in its melodies. The first notes resonated through the room, and time seemed to stand still as I lost myself in the music, my fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys.  

Lost in the chords, I didn't notice Max's presence until I played the final note. When I finally looked up, he was standing there, leaning against the doorway, a loving smile playing on his lips. 

"I hope I didn't wake you," I murmured, my fingers hovering on the piano keys, the last echoes of the music fading into the first blush of morning.  

The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over Max's naked torso, his figure outlined against the soft hues of the sunrise. His blond hair seemed to catch the light, casting a golden halo around his head, and his blue eyes sparkled with sleepiness and affection. 

"You didn't. Your absence and the peculiar lack of space on our bed did," Max remarked as he crossed the room and settled onto the piano bench, facing towards me. "But then I heard the music and had to come and find you." 

I chuckled softly, the corners of my lips lifting in response. "Yeah, those furry freeloaders took over the bed like it's their kingdom," I said, shaking my head. "I almost had a dramatic exit." 

With a playful shake of his head, as if conceding defeat, Max leaned in, placing a soft kiss on my lips. I melted into it, savoring the warmth of his lips against mine. It lingered, turning sultry as we both lost ourselves in the moment. 

"Is this piece new?" he asked, his breath warm against my lips as we break apart. 

I nodded, my fingers idly tracing patterns on the piano keys. "Yeah, just something I've been toying with."  

"It's beautiful," he declared sincerely, his hand reaching out to gently brush against mine. “I swear, I could watch you play for the rest of my life and never grow tired.” 

I reached for his face, cradled it between my palms, and angled it to mine as I ghosted my mouth across his, then slid my fingers through his hair and urged him closer. Max’s hands found my chest, his fingers testing the muscle as I slipped my tongue between his lips and explored. He moaned and slid his hands up over my shoulders and behind my neck, and I could feel him harden against me. 

When the need to get closer to him grew stronger, I mirrored Max's position on the piano bench, straddling it with one leg on each side. With a gentle nudge, I pushed Max onto my lap, his weight settling comfortably against me. 

"Hi, Schatje," Max whispered, looking at me from beneath his thick lashes, and my breath got caught somewhere in the back of my throat at the way the aurora light played off all the angles of his face. His jaw line, cheekbones, his sculpted brows and nose—everything about him was perfectly aligned to make his face one I couldn’t look away from. 

I leaned up, capturing his lips with mine, the kiss starting slow, tentative, my lips barely grazing his, but with each passing moment the kiss deepened. I traced the outline of his lips with my tongue, seeking entrance, and he welcomed me eagerly. Our tongues danced together in their usual sensual rhythm, exploring, tasting, craving.  

Breaking the kiss momentarily, I trailed soft kisses along his jawline, down his neck, feeling the heat building between us with each touch. Max's breath faltered as my lips found the sensitive spot just below his ear, and I sucked gently, eliciting a low groan from him. 

"Baaaby," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. 

I grinned against his skin, enjoying the effect I had on him. "Juste ici, bébé" I murmured before trailing more kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking as I went. 

Max's hands roamed over my back, pulling me closer, his fingers trailing teasingly along my spine. "God, I love you," he breathed against my lips.  

He had always been expressive about his feelings for me, but something had shifted after Kelly. It was as if he were laying bare his soul, baring his heart to me in a way he never had before, seeking something that I couldn't quite comprehend yet. 

"I know, Max," I said softly, pressing my forehead against his. "I feel it too, every single day." 

Max's eyes softened, but I could see the raw need lingering beneath the surface. His hand trailed down my chest, fingers skimming lightly over my naked skin. "Make love to me, Schatje. Alsjeblieft."  

My breath hitched as his words hung in the air between us. This wasn't just about physical release; it was about connection, about reaffirming our bond in the most intimate way possible. But it was also tangled up in the mess of emotions that had surfaced since that night. Max had been more intense, more eager, more insistent in his need for closeness. And while part of me reveled in his newfound intensity, another part couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.  

But in this moment, as Max's lips sought mine with a hunger that mirrored my own, I pushed aside those thoughts. Right now, all that mattered was the two of us, here, together. 

I deepened the kiss, pouring all the love and reassurance that I could muster into it, as I smoothed my hands down to his ass and then hoisted him up in my arms. Max let out a shocked gasp of air and gripped the back of my hair as he stared down into my eyes. Then he bent his head and took my lips with his, as I walked us over to the chaise longue and lowered him down on it. When I straightened, I took a second to drink in the exquisite picture he made, and my pulse kicked up. 

The chaise had chesterfield-style lines with hand-carved buttons. The black leather felt soft against the skin and with Max stretched out on it in nothing more than his boxers, he looked the very picture of decadence. 

“You’re too far away,” he commented as he reached between his legs and began to massage his hard-on. 

I moved to a bookshelf where an old trinket box sat, and when I opened it to pull out a packet of lube, Max chuckled. 

"When did you put that in there?" 

I shut the box and placed the packet of lube on the table at the end of the chaise. “I don't even remember.” 

“A man ready for any occasion. I like that.” 

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. “More like a man who knows his weakness.” 

I pulled at the drawstring of my pajama shorts and let them fall to the floor, then I reached for the waist of Max’s boxer briefs and drew them down his legs. As I tossed them aside, I climbed onto the longue and moved up between his thighs until our cocks were intimately aligned. 

Max wrapped a leg up over the back of my thigh and touched his fingers to my cheek. “And I’m your weakness?” 

“You’re my everything.” 

Max’s pupils dilated as he stared up into my face, then he craned up off the couch and took my lips in a slow, sensual kiss. I speared my fingers through his hair to hold him nice and steady, then angled my head and dove inside, desperate for a deeper taste. He moaned, and when he began to roll his hips against mine, I tore my mouth free and stared down into his gorgeous face. 

“Uh uh, not so fast...” I released my hold, and Max lay back against the longue. “I want you to lie back, relax, and enjoy…” A throaty hum left him as I bent my head and kissed him by his ear. “I’m going to take this nice and slow, kiss and touch every inch of you.” 

Max’s chest rose and fell a little faster as I rubbed my lower body over his, and I could feel our shared excitement sticky and warm against my skin. 

“Yes,” Max said. “Take me like that. Like you can get enough.” 

"I can never get enough of you, bébé," I whispered back, my words laden with love. "Not today, not ever." 

The expression that flashed in his eyes made my heart beat a whole lot faster, as I planted a hand on either side of his head, and Max reached for my ass. 

He began a slow rocking motion as I moved back and forth on top of him, and the pleasure was toe-curling. Hot, hard, and heavy, our erections pulsed against one another as pre-cum coated our shafts. 

“Baaaaaby”, Max groaned and pressed his head back onto the curved arm of the chaise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his lips parted on a soft gasp. “Please.” 

I lowered my head and placed my lips at the base of his throat, then began to kiss, lick, and suck my way down his body. Max whispered my name as he brought his hands up to my hair and I continued further down, my quest to pleasure him now at an all-time high. 

I flicked my tongue over one nipple, teased it with my teeth, and glanced up at him. Max was watching me closely, his eyes dark and hooded. I smirked and flicked the hard nub with the tip of my tongue, and when he shivered, I began my descent once again.  

I shifted further down the longue, my sensitive cock rubbing against the black leather while his rubbed up against my chest. I saw the evidence of our desire all over his abs then lowered my head and licked it up. 

“Oh God.” Max slid his fingers to the back of my head and gently urged me to continue, and when I repeated the move—this time dipping the tip of my tongue into his navel—the salty tasty of us tingled all over my tastebuds. “That’s so damn hot.” 

I shifted a little lower until I was at the end of the chaise and kneeled on the rug. I smoothed my hands up his legs from his ankles to his knees, then I took hold of them and slid him gently down the longue. When he was flat on his back, his legs dangling off the end, I took hold of his stiff cock and licked a wet path from root to tip before sucking him inside. 

Max’s hips jackknifed off the chaise as my name flew off his tongue, and when I raised my head, the desire swirling in his eyes was palpable. I licked my lower lip and then bent my head to nuzzle at his hipbone, and as I began to kiss and suck my way down the V of his leg, Max lifted it and boldly draped it over my shoulder. 

“Hmm, I do like a man who knows what he wants,” I hummed, as I gazed up his body from between his thighs. 

“Then you must like me a lot.” 

I swiped my tongue over the plump head of his dick and nodded. “Oh, I like you far more than just a lot,” I confirmed, dragging my tongue down and tracing a path from the head of his cock down to his balls. His scent enveloped me, musky and intoxicating. Gripping his thighs, I took one of his balls into my mouth, sucking gently before moving to the other.  

Max's breath hitched, as I continued my exploration, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, feeling him twitch with anticipation. Then, without warning, I took him in fully, deep-throating him. 

"Mijn God," Max gasped above me, thrusting even deeper. 

I let him pop free of my mouth, before slowly removing his leg from my shoulder, my fingers fumbling for the packet of lube on the nearby table. 

Tearing the package open, I began to slick myself up with the lube, coating my cock generously. Max's moans urged me on as I worked myself, my eyes flicking up to see him reaching for his own aching shaft. He started stroking, his movements mirroring mine, and then he brought his heels up to the end of the chaise and splayed them apart. 

“Putain de merde, Max,” I whimpered, my hand stilled as I took in his bold offering. 

I didn't need another invitation. Without wasting one more second, I lubed up my hand and reached out to draw a slick index finger down his perineum to his hole. Max's legs shook from my touch as I repeated the move with two fingers. When I leaned forward, bit his knee, and slowly slid them inside him, he sucked in a gasp of air. 

"Oh, neuk, Charles," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "That feels so damn goooood." 

I smirked, enjoying the way he squirmed beneath me. "You like that, huh?" I teased, curling my fingers inside him. 

Max's response was a string of curses mingled with groans as I worked him open, stretching him just right. His body tensed, every muscle coiled with anticipation. 

"Meer," he gasped. 

I obliged, adding a third finger and scissoring them inside him, hitting that spot that made him see stars. Max's breath faltered, his nails digging into the fabric of the chaise, his hips rocking back to meet my hand. 

"Fuck, baby, ja," he whimpered, his head thrown back in ecstasy. 

"You're so fucking hot like this, bébé," I growled. 

Max whined in response, his body writhing beneath me, begging for more. I withdrew my fingers, leaving him empty and wanting, and he let out a frustrated groan. 

"Stop niet," he pleaded. 

"Oh, I'm not stopping, bébé," I whispered, rising to my feet. 

Max's eyes widened with desire as I grabbed him by the hips and slid him further up the chaise, positioning him exactly where I wanted him. When I moved up between his spread legs, he wound them around my waist, pulling me closer, his hands gripping my shoulders. Planting a hand by his head to support myself, I reached down between us, guiding my cock to his entrance. 

He let out a low groan, his hips lifting instinctively to meet mine. "Take me, baby, please," he begged. 

I pressed forward, slowly breaching his tightness, inch by inch, until I was fully sheathed inside him. Max's eyes fluttered shut, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he arched his back, pushing against me. 

"Merde, Max," I groaned, as I took my time, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in with slow, deliberate movements. "You feel so fucking good." 

"Baaaaaby," Max moaned, his voice a breathless plea. "More..." 

Adjusting my angle, I searched for that perfect spot that would send him spiraling into ecstasy. When I found it, Max gasped, his back arching off the chaise as pleasure washed over him in waves. I kept thrusting into him, his ass tight around my cock, squeezing me like a vice. His moans were music to my ears as I fucked him relentlessly.  

"God, baby, don't stop," Max pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire. 

I didn't plan on stopping anytime soon. I kept pounding into him, feeling the heat building in my core. Max's nails dug into my back, his legs wrapped tightly around my waist, urging me to go harder, faster. 

I complied, picking up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Max whimper in response, his whole being focused on the pleasure coursing through him. I reached down between us, wrapping my hand around his throbbing cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts. 

He cried out, his body tensing as he reached the edge. I could feel him tightening around me, his ass clenching around my cock as he neared his climax. 

"Godverdomme, baby, I'm gonna..." Max's words were cut off by a guttural moan as he came, hot spurts of cum coating my hand. His body convulsed beneath me, his cock pulsing in my grip as I milked him for every drop. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as pleasure washed over him in waves. 

I kept thrusting into him, feeling his walls clenching around my cock, driving me closer to my own release. His moans spurred me on, his nails sinking into my back as he rode out his orgasm. 

With one final thrust, I buried myself deep inside him, my own climax crashing over me like a tidal wave. I groaned, my body shuddering as I emptied myself into him, our cries mingling in the air as we found release together. 

Sunday, May 10 

"Listen up, Leo," Charles said, kneeling beside our dog on the steering station of his boat. "We're going on a boat trip today, and I need you to be on your best behavior, okay? No running around like a maniac, and definitely no jumping off the boat." 

Leo tilted his head, his eyes fixed on Charles, as if trying to decipher every word. He gave a single bark, which I chose to interpret as agreement. 

"Good boy," Charles said, giving Leo a pat on the head before standing up and I couldn't help but feel drawn to his magnetic presence. 

The gentle breeze tousled Charles's chestnut hair as he stood tall, his slightly tanned skin glowing in the sunlight. But it was his piercing emerald green eyes that mesmerized me. They seemed to hold a world of depth, reflecting the shimmering waters around us and catching the blue ocean hues, as if they were a part of the sea itself. 

When he met my gaze, the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that had been haunting me since last week washed over me. Being with Kelly had been... intense, to say the least. Sure, there were moments of pleasure, but they didn't erase the gnawing feeling of selfishness eating away at me. 

When my heart started to pound in my chest, I reached out for Charles in a desperate attempt to drown out the voices in my head, to quiet the storm of heart-wrenching feelings that threatened to consume me.  

As if he could sense the turmoil inside me, Charles pulled me close and his lips met mine in a tender exploration, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. I could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine as our tongues danced together, each touch, each caress, a reassurance, a reminder of the love we shared. 

When we finally pulled apart, Charles looked at me with a soft smile. "Mon amour," he began, his fingers brushing against my cheek, "we need to talk about what's been going on." 

I nodded burying my face in the crook of his neck, unable to form the words to express the felling's churning inside me. Guilt, confusion, longing – they all mingled, creating a tangled mess of emotions that I couldn't untangle on my own. 

His arms wrapped tightly around me, providing a sense of security that I desperately needed. "We'll talk when we reach the high seas," Charles murmured, his voice low and reassuring against my ear. "We'll find some peace out there, away from everything." 

"Okay," I managed to say, still clinging to him. 

Charles held me for a moment longer before releasing me from his embrace. "Let's get going then," he said, turning towards the helm of the boat. 

Gathering myself, I pulled away from Charles and turned my attention to Leo, who was busy chewing on something he shouldn't have been. "Hey, buddy, what do you have there?" I asked, gently prying his jaws open to retrieve the forbidden object. 

Leo gave me an innocent look, his tail wagging as if to say, ‘Nothing to see here.’ 

Chuckling, I scooped him up into my arms and perched us in the companion seat. 

The engine roared to life as Charles navigated us out of the harbor and into the open waters. The gentle rocking of the boat beneath us was oddly soothing, and I found myself relaxing as we left the shore behind. 

When the coastline faded into the distance, Charles leaned over to adjust the autopilot, ensuring the boat stayed on course. He settled into the helm seat beside me, his arm finding its way around my shoulders, pulling me close. I snuggled down into his embrace, resting my head against his chest while half lying, half sitting on the bench facing him. 

I felt Leo stir on my chest, likely in response to my shifting position, his eyes blinking open lazily. Charles stretched out his hand and scratched behind his ear, lulling him back to sleep. 

"Are you ready to talk, chéri?" he asked, his emerald eyes searching mine.   

I let out a heavy sigh, tracing a pattern on his chest where his shirt buttons were open. "If I say no," I murmured, pressing a kiss to his skin, "Would you let me get away with it?"  

"No chance," Charles chuckled, his fingers gently trailing along my jawline. "Not with the way you've been hanging onto my dick like it's the last life raft on a sinking ship." 

I couldn't help but snort at his choice of words, a mixture of amusement and embarrassment flooding through me. "I'm sorry for being such a huge inconvenience,” I replied. 

"You're definitely a handful, but you're my handful," he quipped, trying to lighten the mood. 

Cracking a smile at his attempt at humor, I nestled my head deeper into the curve of his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the salty sea air. It was a comforting embrace, one that made it easier to gather my thoughts. 

"I liked being with Kelly," I started, my voice soft but steady. "But I also feel guilty about it. I know you would have liked to be with her, and my insecurities got in the way." 

Charles's fingers traced soothing circles on my back, his expression unreadable. "Chéri, you don't need to feel guilty. I enjoy watching. What I really wanted was to provide you that moment, to share that experience with you." 

"I know," I said softly, taking comfort in his words. "But I still feel like it was selfish." 

He pulled me closer, his warmth enveloping me like a protective shield. "You were not selfish, Max. You were honest about your feelings, and that's crucial, especially in situations like that." 

"I still feel bad because I don't think that I can reciprocate what you did for me in the same way," I admitted, feeling the weight of guilt pressing down on me. 

Charles cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Max. What happened with Kelly was something we both agreed to explore together. I wanted to see you enjoy yourself, to feel pleasure, to fulfill a fantasy. That was all I wanted." 

"It feels like I took more than I gave." 

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "This isn't a race, Max. Our relationship isn't built on a tally of who did what for whom. It's about being there for each other, supporting each other, and sharing experiences." 

I leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "I just don't want you to feel left out or neglected." 

Charles brushed his thumb gently across my cheek. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't feel left out or neglected. I feel loved, Max," he said softly. 

"I'm glad to hear that," I replied, leaning into his touch. 

He tilted his head slightly, studying my expression. "And you shouldn't doubt that, Mon coeur. You show me every day how much you love me," he continued, his gaze unwavering. 

"I just want you to be happy," I confessed, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders. 

Charles smiled warmly, his eyes softening. "And I am, with you," he declared. "What do you need to stop feeling guilty, bebé?" 

"I guess I just needed reassurance that you're okay with everything." 

He nodded, understanding evident in his gaze. "I am, Max. I promise," he assured me, squeezing me gently. "But if there's anything specific you need from me, don't hesitate to tell me. I could have told you this a week ago and made it easier for you." 

"I know, but I think I needed some time to process everything." 

He leaned in, his forehead touching mine. "Whatever you need, just ask for it, okay?" 

Feeling a surge of affection, I pressed my lips against his, pouring all my love and gratitude into the kiss. Charles responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around me as he deepened the kiss. 

In that moment, surrounded by the vast expanse of the ocean, I knew that as long as we had each other, we could weather any storm that came our way.

[l-estappen]

The Crown Jewel 🇲🇨

ii. EA Sports F1 24 'The 10 Racers'

"He won in Vegas; he wins in Monte Carlo! Charles Leclerc wins this EA Sports F1 24 'The 10 Racers' event. What a drive! Unbelievable stuff there from Charles Leclerc, taking the victory," Matt Gallagher’s voice booms through the speakers, announcing my win.

From my simulator, I spot Max in his, a playful gleam in his eye. He’s finished second, but he’s always my biggest competition and supporter. Our rivalry makes everything more exciting, constantly pushing us to be better, both on and off the track.

Naomi Schiff approaches, the studio lights reflecting off her bright smile as she holds the mic out. "Congratulations, Charles! Your first Monaco Grand Prix victory. Tell us, what emotions are you feeling right now? You're not crying as much as in qualifying."

I chuckle, recalling how my eyes had stung and teared up from the unbroken focus, a moment that had been mistaken for crying. "No, qualifying was the peak of the weekend…" I burst out laughing, "… but yeah, it was a very good race. We had a different strategy from Max. He went for soft-medium, which was aggressive and nearly worked. But his tires were done by the end, so we managed to take the win. Very special feeling today."

From the corner of my eye, I see someone hand Max a mic. Still in his simulator, mischief sparkles in his eyes. Naomi turns to him, curiosity lighting up her face. "Max, you were so close to winning. What happened?"

"You know how it is. Sometimes you take risks, and they pay off, and sometimes…" He pauses dramatically, glancing at me, "…they don't. Today, it was all about tire strategy. Charles got lucky."

"Lucky?" I interject with a laugh. "Is that what we’re calling skill these days?"

Max grins, his playful nature shining through. "We all know you had the racing sim gods on your side today. Who else could keep their tires in such good condition?"

"Or maybe I just know how to take care of my car better. It's not all about speed, you know. Sometimes, finesse wins the race."

Naomi, sensing the playful banter, smiles broadly. "So, Max, are you saying Charles' victory was purely luck? Or is there some admiration hidden in there somewhere?"

Max feigns a thoughtful expression, tapping his chin. "Let's see… I'd say 90% luck, 10% skill."

"He’s just jealous because he lost. Admit it, I’m the better driver."

Max raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Better driver? We’ll see about that this weekend."

Naomi laughs along with us, enjoying the light-hearted exchange. "It sounds like the rivalry is alive and well. Charles, any final words before we wrap up?"

"Just that I’m looking forward to the weekend. And thank you for having us."

As the interview wraps up and the cameras turn off, I push myself out of the simulator. Max mirrors my actions, a grin on his face as he approaches.

"Congrats, schatje," he whisper, pulling me into a tight hug. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head, his playful grin still in place.

“Merci bébé,” I counter, my voice coming out a bit breathless. The proximity, the heat of his body against mine, the way his hand lingers on my back—it’s all getting to me. Winning always gets me fired up, but winning against Max intensifies the effect.

"Remember our little agreement?"

Max's eyes widen slightly, the mischief in them flickering with curiosity. "Of course. The winner gets to choose the prize," he remarks, his voice low and playful.

"I want you to blow me," I whisper, my lips brushing his ear. "In the bathroom, right now."

Max pulls back, glancing around to ensure we're not being watched. "And who am I to deny the victor his prize?"

Without another word, we make our way to the bathroom at the back, and as the door clicks shut behind us, I grab Max, shoving him against the cool tile wall. My hands roam over his body, feeling the heat of his skin through his clothes, fingers digging into his muscles.

My lips crash onto his, the kiss searing and desperate. I nip at his lower lip, pulling it between my teeth, and he groans, the sound rough and guttural. His hands tangle in my hair, yanking me closer, his body grinding against mine.

"Fuck, Charles," he mutters, breath hot against my mouth, "what the hell's gotten into you?"

"Beating you makes me hard," I manage to reply, my tongue plunging into his mouth, tasting him, claiming him.

“Baby, someone could hear us,” he murmurs, but there’s no real protest in his voice.

“Let them,” I growl, quickly switching positions with him. My hands are already undoing my pants as I push them and my boxers down, my erection springing free. I guide Max onto his knees, my hand tangling in his hair, and he doesn’t need any more encouragement.

His hands dig into my thighs, pulling me closer as he takes me into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue wraps around me and he works me expertly, swirling around the head of my cock, teasing me before he plunges deeper, taking me to the hilt, exactly how I like it.

“Putain, Max,” I gasp, my head falling back against the wall. The sensation of his mouth around me is overwhelming, each bob of his head sending waves of pleasure through me. I thrust my hips forward, and he takes me deeper, his throat constricting around me.

His saliva drips down, mixing with my own pre-cum, adding to the slickness. The smell of sex fills the small space, intensifying the raw, filthy nature of the moment.

My fingers tighten in his hair, guiding his movements as I sink in further, hitting the back of his throat, and his gag reflex squeezes me tighter, sending another wave of intense pleasure coursing through my body.

“Just like that, bébé,” I pant, my voice rough with need.

He hums around me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. His hands move to my ass, pulling me closer as he takes me even deeper, his nose brushing against my pubes. I can feel the pressure building, my orgasm approaching fast.

"Gonna come, Max," I warn, my grip tightening. He doesn’t slow down, his pace quickening as he sucks harder. I can’t hold back anymore. With a final thrust, I come hard, my cock pulsing as I spill into his mouth. His throat works around me, swallowing every drop eagerly. The sight of his lips sealed around me, the way he hungrily takes it all, makes my knees weak. His tongue flicks and laps up the last of it, ensuring nothing is wasted. The warm, slick sensation of his mouth, the sound of his swallowing, and the lingering aftershocks send shivers through my body.

I slump against the wall, trying to catch my breath as he stands up, wiping the corner of his mouth with a satisfied smirk. "Did that meet your expectations?" he asks, his voice husky.

“Exceed them, as always,” I reply, drawing him into a tender kiss. The taste of myself on his lips only fuels my desire for him. “Your turn next time.”

Max leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, enveloping him in a warm embrace. “I’ll hold you to that, Schatje.”

“Count on it,” I murmur into his neck.

[l-estappen]

The Crown Jewel 🇲🇨 i. Call me Oscar Jack Piastri Verstappen-Leclerc 👍🏻

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I muse to Leo, sprawled out on the couch, my eyes fixed on the breathtaking sunset painting the Monaco coastline with hues of gold and pink. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view, turning the penthouse into a celestial observatory. 

A soft click echoes through the room, shattering the serene silence. Leo’s ears perk up first, followed by the rapid thumping of his little paws on the hardwood floor. Jimmy and Sassy follow closely, a synchronized trio of eager greeters. 

"Honey, I'm home!" Charles calls out, and I can hear the smile in his voice as he greets our furry trio. "Salut Chouchous. Been good while I was out?" 

Leo's excited barks and the soft meows from Jimmy and Sassy make me smile. I can almost picture the scene—Charles crouched down, surrounded by our little menagerie, giving each of them the attention they crave. 

"Alright, alright, let me get up. I've got something special for your papa," he continues, his voice teasing and affectionate. 

I feel a flutter of excitement as I hear his footsteps approaching. Leo bounds into the living room first, his tail wagging furiously, and as Charles steps into view, I see a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Bright, vivid blooms that match the vibrant sunset outside. His eyes have a playful glint as he holds the flowers out toward me, a teasing grin spreading across his face. 

"To apologize for offering to adopt Oscar without asking you first," he says, stepping closer, his tone half-serious, half-joking. 

"You think flowers can get you out of anything?" I ask, sinking deeper into the cushions. 

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he sets the bouquet down on the living room table. "They usually help," he remarks, before straddling my lap. 

"I missed you today," I declare, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him closer until our noses almost touch. 

Charles presses his forehead against mine. "Missed you too," he murmurs, his hands moving to cup my face gently. His thumbs stroke my cheeks as he leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a tender kiss that quickly deepens. He tastes like mint and desire, his tongue probing, teasing, driving me wild. 

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath hot against my lips. "I've been thinking about you all day. Couldn't wait to get my hands on you." His fingers trail down my chest, undoing buttons with practiced ease, exposing my skin to the cool air and his hungry gaze. 

I groan, the sound low and guttural. "Then don't make me wait." 

Charles's laugh is dark and filled with promise. He shifts his weight, his hips grinding down against mine, and I can feel the hard evidence of his arousal through our clothes. "Patience, bébé. Let me enjoy you." 

His hands are everywhere, tracing the contours of my chest, pinching my nipples just hard enough to make me gasp. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin until I’m squirming beneath him. 

"Godverdomme, schatje," I moan, my hips bucking up to meet his. My hands find their way under his t-shirt, desperate to feel more of him. "Need you." 

Charles sits back, his eyes dark with lust as he shrugs off his t-shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso. He takes his time, his hands moving to undo my pants, his touch slow and deliberate, driving me to the edge of madness. 

He slides down my body, his lips hot and wet as he takes me into his mouth. The sensation is electric, a bolt of pleasure that has me arching off the couch, my fingers tangling in his hair. 

"God, baby," I gasp, my voice rough with need. "Please. I need you." 

Charles releases me with a slick pop, his eyes locking onto mine as he climbs back up my body. "Turn over," he orders, his voice a command that sends a thrill through me. 

I comply, my breath coming in ragged pants as I get on all fours, presenting myself to him. I hear the rustle of clothing as he undresses, and the crinkle of a lube packet being torn open. 

"Hold still," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. I feel a cool slickness as he spreads the lube over his fingers, and then his touch is at my entrance. He starts with one finger, circling and pressing in slowly, allowing me to adjust. 

"Always so tight," he breathes, sliding his finger deeper, stretching me. 

I moan, pushing back against his hand, needing more. 

Reading the unspoken plea in my movements, Charles adds a second finger, scissoring them to open me up, then he crooks them, finding that sweet spot that makes me see stars. 

"Fuck, yes," I groan, my body trembling with need. 

Charles's fingers work me expertly, ensuring I'm ready. When he finally withdraws, I feel an aching emptiness, desperate to be filled. The slick sound of more lube being applied is the last thing I hear before I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, and then he's inside, stretching me, filling me in one smooth thrust that has me crying out in pleasure. 

He starts to move, slow and steady, his rhythm building as he grips my hips tighter, pulling me back to meet each thrust. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, accompanied by our ragged breaths and moans.  

"Putain, Max," Charles growls, his voice rough and desperate. "You feel so fucking good." 

I can barely form words, lost in the sensation, the heat, the overwhelming pleasure. "Harder," I manage to gasp. "Please, baby. Neuk me harder." 

He obeys, his thrusts becoming powerfull, faster, each one hitting that perfect spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes. I'm close, so close, and I can feel Charles trembling with the effort to hold back. 

"Come for me, bébé," he demands, his voice tight with restraint. "I want to feel you come."  

It's all I need. A strangled cry escapes my lips, and my vision blurs as waves of pleasure surge through me.  

"Baaaby," I whine, my voice trembling with pleasure, my muscles contracting around Charles cock in relentless rhythm as I spill onto the cushions below. 

Charles follows moments later, his breath ragged and hips jerking erratically. "God, Max," he gasps, his voice a strained whisper as he finds his release. I feel the sudden warmth flooding through me, amplifying the waves of pleasure coursing through my body. 

He collapses against my back, his weight comforting and grounding. Our panting fills the room, mixing with the fading echoes of our passion. Charles's hand finds mine, fingers intertwining as we both catch our breath. 

"You okay?" he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, still breathless. 

I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. "More than okay." 

Charles presses a tender kiss to my shoulder, his fingers tightening around mine. "I love you." 

"Feeling's mutual," I reply, my voice still shaky from the intensity of my orgasm.

[l-estappen]

Charles Leclerc on his Instagram story, May 17th

[l-estappen]

Charles_Leclerc: Grazie mille di tutto Xavi. So many years working together, my first pole, my first win as well as my first year in Ferrari was alongside you and you always got the better out of me by pushing so hard no matter the situation we were in. Thank you for everything and good luck for your new adventures in the future.

[l-estappen]

🇨🇦 GP: 🌧️🦁🍕📷🤷

About an hour before FP1, my phone buzzes with a message from Charles. It’s a video of the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve under a barrage of rain and hail. The audio picks up the relentless pounding of the storm. Typical Charles, always finding peace in chaos. 

I recognize the spot immediately. High view overlooking the circuit and Notre-Dame lake. Damn, he's got a perfect vantage point. But something in my gut tells me he's somewhere else mentally. He's been like this since Monaco, more introspective than usual. It’s been gnawing at me, but I know better than to push too hard. 

I grab my Red Bull rain jacket, shrugging it on as I snatch an umbrella and head out. The paddock is buzzing with activity, people scrambling to adjust to the sudden weather. The smell of rain on asphalt fills the air, and the constant hum of generators adds to the noise. 

When I finally spot him on a small hill overlooking the circuit, he’s exactly where I thought he’d be—standing alone, shielded by an umbrella, dressed in his ugly Ferrari rain jacket. He looks like he’s stepped out of a painting, beautiful and distant. 

"Charles!" I shout over the sound of the rain. He turns, a smile breaking through his pensive expression as he sees me. 

"What are you doing here?" Charles wonders, his voice barely audible over the storm. 

"I could ask you the same thing," I reply, closing my umbrella and stepping under his. The world feels smaller, just the two of us against the storm. I wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. "Are you okay?" I murmur, kissing the top of his head. 

Charles leans into my touch, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I’m okay, just thinking." 

"You’ve been thinking a lot since Monaco," I note, peering into his eyes, searching for any sign of what’s troubling him. 

He nods, a faint smile on his lips. "I’m just taking everything in." 

"You don’t have to carry it all alone, you know," I tell him, running a hand through his hair. 

Charles’s eyes soften, and he rests his forehead against mine. "I know... I’ll share it when I make sense of it." 

"I’ll be here," I affirm, wrapping my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. The rain continues to pour, but under our shared umbrella, it feels like a private world just for us. 

He places his hand on my chest, fingers splayed out over my heart. "You always are, even when I don’t ask." 

I kiss him softly, feeling some of the tension easing out of him. "You’re stuck with me, Leclerc. No more brooding alone." 

Charles chuckles, the sound vibrating against my chest. Then, he leans in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering, his tongue brushing against mine and drawing out a slow, heated response. 

"Come on," I say, finally breaking the kiss but keeping him close. "Let’s get out of this rain. We’ve got to get ready for FP1." 

Charles smiles, a real, genuine smile that lights up his face. "Lead the way, Verstappen." 

************************************************************************

I’m scrolling through Instagram as I wait for Free Practice 2 to start, the hum of activity in the garage a constant backdrop. The engineers and mechanics are bustling about, but my focus is entirely on my phone when I come across a split image of Max and a cute baby lion cub with the caption “Twins 🦁” I can’t help but laugh. I quickly take a screenshot and send it to him with a message: "What do I always tell you, bébé? Twiiiiiins 🦁❤️" 

My phone buzzes almost immediately with Max’s reply: "Very funny, Leclerc 🙄" 

I grin, looking around the garage at the bustling team, and decide to push my luck. 

"How about pizza tonight? I heard that there is a very good restaurant near our hotel 🍕😊" I type, pathetically hoping the emojis will sway him. 

Max’s reply is quick: "No, Charles. You’re starting to make a habit of eating pizza every Friday night 🍕🙅‍♂️" 

I pout at my phone, even though I know he can’t see me. "Pleeeeease, chéri? Just this once? I promise no more pizza on Fridays 😇" 

There’s a pause before his response, and I can almost see him rolling his eyes at me. "You’re impossible." 

I grin, sensing I’m close to breaking him. "I’ll tell you what’s been bothering me if you say yes 😉" 

Another pause, then: "Bribing me regarding this is shifty, even for you." 

I laugh softly at his response. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, mon coeur 😜" 

Finally, his message comes through: "Fine. But you better spill everything over that pizza.️" 

"I LOVE YOU 😘" 

Max’s reply comes almost instantly: "Currently, I HATE YOU, you sneaky bastard." 

I’m waiting at Brigade Pizzeria Napolitaine, trying to hold onto the optimism I felt earlier after FP1 and FP2. The Ferrari package looks competitive, whether it’s wet or dry, but a nagging feeling tugs at me. I’ve learned not to get too excited at the season's start; experience has shown that a promising early season can turn sour in just a couple of races. 

Glancing around the warm, bustling pizzeria, I half-watch the door, waiting for Max. He mentioned he’d be a little late, still dealing with the electrical issue that limited him to just four laps in FP2. As I fidget with my napkin, I think back to the pattern of past seasons, the highs followed by crushing lows. 

When Max finally walks in, I almost do a double-take. Dressed in a black shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket, he looks like he’s stepped out of a fashion magazine. Meanwhile, I’m here in my jeans and Ferrari hoodie, feeling distinctly underdressed. 

I’ve chosen a relatively hidden corner, aiming for a bit of privacy. But as usual, Max’s gaze immediately finds me. He smirks, clearly enjoying my probably baffled expression as he makes his way over. 

“What’s is with the outfit?” I ask as he sit down.  

“This,” he says, gesturing to his clothes, “is payback for your bribing tactics earlier.” 

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yeah, but this is a little pizzeria, not some fancy restaurant.” 

Max shrugs, his smirk turning into a grin. “Just wanted to look good for you, Leclerc.” 

“Well, you do look good, but that is not an appropriate 'little pizzeria' fit,” I say, smiling back at him.  

Max just snorts as the waitress comes over, her cheeks turning pink as she realizes who we are. “Hi, welcome to Brigade Pizzeria Napolitaine. Can I take your order?” 

I glance at her and smile warmly, hoping to put her at ease. “I’ll have a large margherita with prosciutto crudo and a Coke with ice and lemon, please.” 

“She nods, jotting it down quickly, then turns to Max. “And for you, Mr. Verstappen?” 

Max gives her a polite smile. “I’ll just have a caesar salad and water, please.” 

I watch the waitress scribble down our orders, trying not to laugh at the way she keeps glancing at Max. She’s clearly flustered by him, and I can’t blame her. When she finally leaves, I turn to Max with a grin. 

“Caesar salad and water? You’re such a boy scout,” I joke, shaking my head. 

Max chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Discipline is one of the reasons why I’m a three-time world champion.” 

I laugh, but it’s a bit forced, and Max’s expression shifts as he notices. He reaches across the table, placing his hand over mine. 

“Schatje, that was a joke,” he says gently. “What’s going on with you?” 

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I’m... I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” I admit, squeezing his hand. “I’ve been closing the gap to you, and the season’s going fine...” 

“But?” Max prompts, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand. 

“But I’m scared it’s all going to fall apart,” I confess. “Like in 2022. Everything seemed to be going well, and then it just... collapsed.” 

Max squeezes my hand tighter, his eyes locked onto mine. "Schatje, you need to believe in yourself and in your team. I know it’s Ferrari," he says with a smirk, "but you’ve got to have a little faith in them." 

I chuckle softly, shaking my head at his attempt to lighten my mood 

Max smiles, leaning in closer. "Seriously, though. You’ve been incredible this season. Don’t let a few bad memories from the past ruin your confidence now." 

His words hit home, and I feel a bit of the weight lift off my shoulders. "I’ll try," I say, giving his hand a squeeze back. "Thank you, mon amour." 

Just then, our food arrives. The waitress sets down our orders, still a bit flustered but manages a smile as she leaves us to our meal. 

"You’re not even going to steal a slice of my pizza?" I tease Max as we start eating. 

He laughs, shaking his head. "Discipline, remember? But I’ll definitely have a slice or two." 

************************************************************************

"You know," I start, my voice dripping with amusement as Charles and I step into our suite, "I think I should post this photo on Instagram. For the first time in forever, I managed to outdress you." 

Charles rolls his eyes, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Don't you dare," he warns. 

"Oh, come on," I tease, pulling my phone out of my pocket just for show. "Just a little post to celebrate the occasion. You in your ugly team hoodie and me looking like I stepped out of GQ." 

He steps closer, the warmth of his body brushing against me, his breath whispering in my ear. "Chéri," he says, his voice low and commanding, "put the phone away." 

I laugh, feeling a shiver run down my spine at his tone. "Or what?" 

"Or I’ll make you pay for it," he murmurs, his hand slipping under my jacket, fingers grazing my waist. 

"Is that a promise?" I utter, leaning into his touch. He knows exactly how to get to me. 

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that makes my pulse quicken. "Let's take a bubble bath. That hydromassage bathtub looks inviting." His suggestion is casual, but the look in his eyes is anything but. 

We make our way to the bathroom, and Charles heads straight for the hydromassage bathtub. He turns the water on, adjusting the temperature, while I start to undress. I strip off my jacket and shirt first, feeling his eyes on me as I go. I kick off my shoes and peel off my jeans, standing there in just my boxers for a moment. 

Charles watches me intently; the heat of his eyes makes my skin tingle. I take my time, sliding my boxers down slowly, letting them drop to the floor. When I’m completely naked, I look up at him. He's leaning against the tub, making a come-here gesture with his finger. 

I make my way over to him, stepping between his legs, and he pulls me closer, his hands gripping my hips. "You know, you look incredible," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. 

I lean in, our bodies pressed together, and kiss him hard. His hands roam over my back, exploring every inch, and I can’t help but groan into his mouth. He’s still fully clothed, but I can feel his arousal pressing against me.  Charles’s fingers trail down to my ass, squeezing firmly. "Get in the tub," he orders, his voice a growl. 

I obey, stepping into the warm water and sinking down, letting the bubbles and jets soothe my muscles. Charles watches me for a moment longer, then starts to strip off his clothes. He’s methodical about it, but there’s a sense of urgency in his movements that turns me on even more. 

He steps into the tub, positioning himself between my legs, facing me. The water sloshes around us, and I reach out, pulling him for another kiss. His hands glide over my body, caressing and teasing, each touch more deliberate and intense. I can feel the heat of his erection against my thigh, and the anticipation builds with every second. 

"Fuck, baby," I breathe against his lips. "I need you." 

He grins, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Patience, bébé," he murmurs, his fingers trailing down my chest, brushing over my nipples and making me shiver. "We have time." 

His hand wraps around my hard-on, stroking slowly at first, then with increasing intensity. The sensation is overwhelming, every stroke sending waves of pleasure through me. I gasp, my head falling back against the edge of the tub, the water rippling with our movements. 

I reach out, grabbing his hips and pulling him closer. "I want you inside me," I demand, my voice rough with need. 

"You know it's not safe to do that underwater," he points out, his voice firm yet gentle. 

I groan in frustration, but then Charles shifts slightly and our shafts are rubbing against each other. 

“Baaaby,” I can't help the moan that escapes my lips, the friction of his cocks against mine sending jolts of pleasure through me. 

Charles wraps his hand around both of our erections, and starts to stroke us, his hand moving with a deliberate, measured rhythm.  

"Fuck," I gasp, my head falling back against the edge of the tub. 

Charles leans in and gently nibbles my neck. "You like that?" he whispers. 

"You know I do," I moan, my hips bucking up into his hand. I can feel his dick, hard and slick, rubbing against mine, the pressure and heat pushing me closer to the edge. Charles's grip tightens, his strokes becoming more urgent, more insistent. 

 "Baaaaaby," I moan, my hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks. The pleasure is overwhelming, my whole body tensing, and I feel my balls tighten as I get closer and closer. 

 "Let go, bébé," he whispers, his voice a rough command that sends shivers down my spine. "Come for me." 

That's all it takes. With a strangled cry, I cum hard, my body shuddering with the force of it. The pleasure is blinding, my cock pulsing as I spill into his hand, the release shattering and all-consuming. 

Charles follows right after, his own orgasm crashing through him, his dick throbbing against mine as he comes. The feeling of his release mixing with mine is almost too much. His body shudders, and he collapses against my chest, both of us panting heavily, the aftershocks of our orgasms making our muscles twitch. 

For a moment, we just stay like that, wrapped around each other in the warm, bubbling water. I can feel Charles’s heart pounding against my own, his breath hot and ragged against my neck. 

“Schatje, are you with me?” I murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. He hums softly in response, his body relaxing against mine as I run my fingers through his damp hair. 

“Putain, even a simple handjob with you feels incredible,” Charles whispers, his voice muffled against my skin.  

I laugh softly, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him even closer. “I know. We make even the basics amazing, don't we?” 

Charles lifts his head slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. He cups my face in his hands, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “You always know how to make everything better,” he declares, and there’s a vulnerability in his tone that tugs at my heart. 

I smile, leaning into his touch. “That’s because I know you, inside and out.” 

He chuckles, a soft, exhausted sound, and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m so lucky to have you.”  

“You’re not the only one who’s lucky,” I remark, tracing patterns on his back with my fingertips.  

He nods, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly. We stay like that for a while, soaking in the afterglow and the warmth of the water. Eventually, the jets start to cool, and I can feel the chill creeping in. Reluctantly, I pull back, kissing Charles’s forehead before gently urging him to sit up. 

“Come on, let’s get dried off and into bed,” I say, helping him out of the tub. He stands, water cascading down his body, and I can’t help but admire him for a moment, the way his skin glows in the soft light of the bathroom. 

Charles catches me staring and gives me a tired, but genuine, smile. “What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Just appreciating the view,” I reply, grinning as I step out of the tub and grab a towel. I hand him one, and we both dry off, stealing glances at each other and exchanging soft touches. 

Once we’re dry, we make our way to the bedroom. Charles collapses onto the bed with a satisfied groan, and I follow, slipping under the covers and pulling him close. He nestles against me, his head resting on my chest, and I grab my phone from the nightstand, intending to set the alarm for tomorrow’s early start.  

As I unlock my phone, the photo that Charles took of me in the pizzeria comes into view and my lips curl into a mischievous grin.  I feel Charles stir slightly, sensing my amusement. “You’re not posting that photo,” he murmurs, voice heavy with the remnants of sleep. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply smoothly, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I hit share and watch as the photo uploads to my Instagram account with the caption: "Apparently not an appropriate ‘little pizzeria’ fit 🤷🏼‍♂️"

[l-estappen]

verstappencom, #Miami GP Miami dress code: BLUE 💙 What a trio ⚽️ ✖️ 🏁

[l-estappen]

The Crown Jewel 🇲🇨 Home Victory ❤️

"I’ll just bring it home," I say to my race engineer, my voice thick with emotion, tears already threatening to spill. The realization is sinking in—I am about to win the Monaco Grand Prix. 

"Thank you," my engineer replies. 

Guiding the car through Monaco’s familiar streets, my thoughts turn to Papa. Memories flood back, bittersweet reminders of the journey that brought me here. 

I remember the early mornings at the karting track, his encouraging words as he stood by the sidelines, always pushing me to be better. His eyes would light up with pride every time I won. Even when I didn’t, he reminded me that every setback was just a step towards success. 

The day I told him I wanted to be a Formula 1 driver, he nodded with that determined glint in his eye and said, "We'll make it happen, mon petit champion." From that moment, every decision, every sacrifice my family made was geared towards this goal. 

When he passed away in 2017, midway through my title-winning F2 campaign, the pain was almost unbearable. Losing him felt like losing a part of myself. But I knew he wouldn’t want me to give up. His dream was intertwined with mine, and I could feel his spirit urging me to push forward, to honor his legacy on the track. 

He inspired me to embrace another important part of my life. When I came out to him, his support was unwavering. He taught me that being true to myself was just as important as any victory. Honoring him means living with courage and authenticity, both on and off the track. 

Today, as I drive these final laps, I feel him with me more than ever. His presence is in every corner, every straight, every moment of this race. Winning in Monaco, our home, was a dream we shared. Now, it's about to become reality. I can almost hear his voice, filled with pride, saying, "Well done, petit champion. You've made it." 

As the checkered flag waves and I cross the finish line, the tears I held back finally fall. This victory isn’t just mine; it’s ours. It’s for the man who believed in me, who sacrificed so much to help me reach this moment. Today, I bring it home for Papa and for my entire family. 

"We won it!" My race engineer’s voice crackles through the radio, bringing me back to the present moment. "Finally." 

"Yesssss!!! Yesss! Ha, ha. Yesss! Yes, Yes, Yes! Ahhhhh!" I shout, unable to contain my excitement. "I need to cool down, myself as well." 

During the cool-down lap, I wave to the crowds. The cheers are deafening, the flags a blur of red and white. Monaco has always been home, but today, it feels like the entire principality is celebrating with me. The emotions hit harder than the G-forces, and I let out a whoop of pure joy. 

When I finally pull into the pit lane, I park the car in the spot marked for the winner. The engine purrs to a stop, and the loud cheering that follows is surreal. 

Without a second thought, I unbuckle my harness and leap out of the car. I don’t bother taking off my helmet—I’m too eager to share this moment with my family. I run towards them, my heart pounding harder than it did during the race. 

There they are, waiting with open arms. My mom, my brothers, Joris and Andrea. The sight of them brings the tears back, and as I reach them, I fling myself into their embrace. Their arms wrap around me tightly, and through the helmet, I can hear their muffled cheers and sobs of joy. 

"We did it," I roar, my voice cracking. "We did it." 

My mom squeezes me tighter. "Your Papa would be so proud," she says, her voice thick with emotion. 

As she steps back, I feel another pair of arms wrap around me from behind. I turn to see Lorenzo, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You did it, petit frère," he says, his voice steady but filled with pride. "Papa would be over the moon." 

I hug him tightly, feeling the strength and comfort of his embrace. Lorenzo has always been my rock, especially after Papa passed away. His support and guidance kept me grounded and focused on my dream. "Thanks, Lorenzo," I whisper, my voice choked with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without you." 

He steps back, giving me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. The weight of the moment starts to settle in, but before I can catch my breath, Arthur barrels into me, nearly knocking me off balance. "I'm so proud, I’m so happy!" he exclaims, his youthful exuberance infectious. "I knew you could do it!" 

I laugh, ruffling his hair. "Thanks, Arthur. Your confidence means a lot to me." 

Finally, I take off my helmet, feeling the cool air hit my sweat-soaked face. The roar of the crowd, the scent of burning rubber, and the sight of my family’s beaming faces make the moment surreal. I look into their eyes, seeing the pride and love shining brightly. This moment, this victory, is as much theirs as it is mine. 

I close my eyes for a brief second, letting the emotions wash over me. Suddenly, I feel a familiar hand on my shoulder, a touch that sends a jolt of recognition through me. 

Turning around, I see Max standing there, tears in his eyes and a look of such profound love and pride that it takes my breath away. His presence, solid and reassuring, makes this moment even more special. Without another thought, I grab Max by his racing suit and pull him toward me. Max’s arms wrap around me, and I feel the strength of his embrace. The world seems to blur around us as I lean in, pushing past any agreements about no PDA in the paddock. 

Our lips meet, a collision of passion and hunger. The kiss speaks of every struggle, every triumph, every moment we've shared. It’s fierce, a raw outpouring of all the emotions we've kept bottled up, but also tender, a gentle reassurance that we’re here, together. 

When we finally pull back, I rest my forehead against his, our breaths mingling. “I did it,” I say, my voice choked with emotion. “I really did it.” 

Max smiles, his eyes shimmering with tears. “I’m so proud of you, Schatje. So unbelievably proud.” 

“I fucking love you, Max.” 

He chuckles softly, wiping a tear from my cheek. “I’m aware. And I fucking love you too.” 

The roar of the crowd begins to filter back into my awareness, pulling me from the intimate moment with Max. Reluctantly, I step back, feeling the weight of the victory and the need to fulfill my duties as a newly crowned winner. Max gives me a reassuring smile and a quick squeeze of my hand before I turn toward the waiting press. But from the corner of my eye, I'm still able to see my family surrounding Max, hugging him tightly, their faces beaming with joy. The sight of them together, celebrating as one, makes every sacrifice worthwhile. 

I grab Charles's hand, leading him through the doorway of our penthouse. His hair is still damp from the impromptu jump into the harbor with Fred. Droplets of water occasionally slip down his forehead. The thrill of victory still lingers in the air, evident in our lively steps and lingering smiles, but I notice the shivers starting to rack Charles's body—a familiar sign of his sensitivity to the cold. 

"Let's get you into a warm shower," I say, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice. Charles nods, a goofy grin plastered on his face — clearly, the champagne is already working its magic on him. 

 As I guide him towards the bathroom, he stumbles slightly, then turns to look at me. "Are you going to join me in the shower?" he asks, his voice slurred but full of playful intent. 

"Is that an invitation?" I tease, quickly turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature until steam fills the room.  

Charles lets out a laugh, shivering again. "As if you need one."  

"Let's get these off," I say, starting to peel his t-shirt away. Charles raises his arms, still grinning like a schoolboy, his eyes twinkling with mischief and something deeper, a warmth that melts my heart every time. 

"I’m thinking," he says, raising an eyebrow suggestively, "that there's something else that can get into me." 

I laugh softly at his bad joke. "Let's get you warmed up first, Schatje. We don’t want you catching a cold," I reply, dropping the shirt to the floor and moving on to his pants. "Now, into the shower." 

Charles's grin widens, but he nods, stepping into the shower. The hot water immediately causes a visible sigh of relief. I watch for a moment, making sure he’s steady on his feet, before starting to strip off my own clothes. 

As soon as I step into the shower, Charles wraps his arms around me, clinging to me like I'm the only thing keeping him grounded.  

"I'm so happy," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He starts peppering kisses along my neck, his lips warm and insistent against my skin. 

I smile, threading my fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as the water cascades around us. "I know, Schatje. I’m happy too." 

Charles pulls back slightly, looking up at me with that mischievous glint in his eye. "Do you know what would make me happier?" he asks, his hands roaming over my back and then lower. 

I chuckle, though it's a struggle to keep my thoughts straight with Charles's dick hardening against mine. "You’re making your intentions very clear. But we do have a dinner to get ready for," I remind him, trying to inject some practicality into the moment. 

Charles pouts playfully, grabbing our erections with one hand and squeezing. The heat rises between us, mingling with the steam from the shower. "But chéri, this is my moment and I want to celebrate it with you, right here, right now." 

I close my eyes, letting the sensation of his touch wash over me, the warmth of the water, the intimate friction of our shafts rubbing against each other. "I want that too, Schatje, more than you know. But we can't keep the Prince waiting." 

Charles's eyes darken with desire, and he slides his fist over our cocks. "He can wait," he mutters, his voice low and husky. 

That’s all the encouragement I need. Bating his hand away, I spin him around and shove him against the shower glass, my hands roaming over his wet, muscular body. "We’re going to be late," I mutter into his ear, though my resolve has already slipped away. 

"Don’t care. I need you," he replies, pushing his ass back against me. 

My fingers slide between his cheeks, teasing his hole. He gasps and pushes back harder, his desperation turning me on even more. "You're so fucking eager," I murmur, voice dripping with lust. "I love it." 

I grab the bottle of lube we keep near the shower gel and shampoo, slicking up my fingers. I press one into him, feeling him relax and open up for me, his moans echoing off the tile. "Putain, Max," he groans, as I rub against his prostate. "More." 

I slide in another finger, scissoring and stretching him, preparing him for my dick. His hips buck against my hand, his need palpable. "S'il te plaît, bébé," he begs, "I want you inside me." 

"And you will have me," I whisper, as I remove my fingers and quickly slick up my length with the lube. Finally, I position myself at his entrance, my dick throbbing with need. I push into him slowly, savoring the tight heat of his ass enveloping me. He gasps, his fingers splaying against the glass for support. "Fuck, Charles," I groan, "you always feel so good." 

I start to move, each thrust deep and deliberate, my hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks as my cock stretched and fill him. The sound of our bodies slapping together, the steam swirling around us, the desperate edge in his voice — it's all overwhelming. 

"Max," he pants, "harder." 

I oblige, slamming into him with everything I have. The tight heat of his ass around me drives me wild. "You're so tight," I growl, feeling the friction and pressure build with each thrust.  

"Oui, putain, Max," he moans, his voice rising. "Mon Dieu, don't stop!" 

His back arches, pushing him against me, his fingers clawing at the glass for support. "Encore, please, encore," he gasps, each word a cry of pleasure that makes my cock twitch. His cries are frantic, raw, filling the space around us and driving me closer to the edge with every sound. 

"I'm close," I warn, my voice raw with need, every inch of me straining for release. 

"Me too," he gasps, his hand moving to jerk himself off in time with my thrusts. His body tenses and clamps down on me, his desperation palpable. 

I pound into him harder, feeling him shudder and clench as he comes. "Max, merde, I'm coming," he cries out, his cum splattering against the shower wall. 

The sight and sound of him losing control send me over the edge. I slam into him one last time, feeling his ass tighten and pulse around my cock as he comes. The way he clenches and milks my dick drives me insane. "Godverdomme, Charles," I groan, filling him with my cum, the sensation of release raw and overpowering. 

We stay there, breathless and spent, water cascading over us. Charles leans against the glass, his body still trembling from the aftershocks. I press my forehead to his shoulder, our bodies still intimately connected. 

"Happier now?" I ask, a soft smile tugging at my lips. 

Charles nods, turning his head slightly to give me a hazy, blissful smile. "So much," he murmurs, his eyes half-lidded and dreamy.  

I start to pull out, mindful of the time, but Charles's arms come up to stop me, wrapping around my waist and holding me in place. "Please, Mon amour," he whispers, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Stay just a bit longer." 

I can't help but smile, touched by his clinginess. "Alright, just a bit longer," I agree, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. 

We stand there, the water cascading over us, our bodies pressed close. Charles's breathing slowly steadies, his heartbeat calming against mine. "I love you, you know," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth. 

"I love you too, Schatje," I reply, running my fingers through his hair. "But we really need to get ready. We're already late." 

He sighs, reluctant to let go, but finally loosens his grip. "Okay, but promise me we can stay like this again later." 

"Promise," I say, giving him one last kiss before gently pulling out and turning him to face me. His eyes still have that dreamy, content look that makes my heart swell. I know this moment will linger in our hearts forever. 

The palace lights glitter in the night, casting a golden glow over the grand entrance as we pull up. The driver opens the door, and Max steps out first, turning to offer me a hand. I wobble slightly as I exit the car, the champagne and our earlier celebration still swirling in my veins. 

"We're 27 minutes late," Max mutters, sounding a bit worried. His sharp black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and perfectly tied bow tie make him look extra handsome tonight. I catch his eye and give him a lopsided grin, feeling on top of the world. 

Max shakes his head but laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me steady. We walk up the red carpet, drawing the attention of photographers and guests. As we reach the backdrop, Max pulls me close, his hand resting on my waist. We pose for the cameras, the flashbulbs lighting up our faces as we stand there, the excitement of the night making everything sparkle. 

Inside, the grand chandelier casts a warm glow over the room, filled with elegantly dressed guests. Ornate tapestries and beautiful floral arrangements add to the fancy atmosphere. As we make our way through, I spot Fred by the entrance, shaking his head and smiling. 

"About time you two showed up," Fred says, sounding amused but also a bit exasperated. 

I lean in close to Fred and whisper loudly enough for Max to hear, "It’s all Max’s fault we’re late. He couldn’t keep his hands off me." 

Max’s eyes widen in shock, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks as he opens his mouth to protest, but Fred cuts him off, laughing. "Nice try, Charles. But I know you too well." 

I shrug playfully and stick my tongue out at Fred. Max gives my waist a gentle squeeze, a silent signal to behave, as he guides us further into the lavishly decorated hall. The Prince and Princess of Monaco are standing near the center of the room and turn to greet us as we approach. 

"Your Highness, we apologize for being late," Max says, shaking the Prince’s hand with a familiarity that shows how well we know each other. 

"There is no problem at all," the Prince replies warmly, shaking Max’s hand and pulling me in for a side hug. "It’s a pleasure to host this dinner for you tonight, Charles." 

The Prince of Monaco hosting a dinner for the winner of the Monaco Grand Prix is a long-standing tradition. It’s part of the unique, glamorous vibe of my hometown race, one of the most prestigious events in the Formula 1 calendar. 

"It's an honor to be here as the winner," I reply, my voice filled with gratitude. Standing here, surrounded by the grandeur of the palace and the warmth of the royal family, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of achievement. "Celebrating like this makes it all even more special." I think about the years of hard work, my family sacrifices, and the moments of doubt. Standing here now, it's all worth it. 

The Prince’s genuine smile reflects not just his role as a host, but as someone who has watched me grow from a local karting champion to a Formula 1 victor.  

"Charles, Max, please join us for the final photos before dinner," the Princess beckons, "Fred, please join us as well. 

 We gather for the first photo in front of the Formula 1 Grand Prix de Monaco backdrop. Fred stands next to the Princess, while Max and I are beside the Prince. Max's hand is on my waist, and I catch his eye, seeing the same joy and pride I feel. The camera flashes, capturing our smiles, the event logo, and the Monaco Circuit signs. 

Moving to the next spot by the trophy, I admire its display in a beautifully crafted case. The elegant mosaic floor and soft lighting add to the classy vibe. As we pose, Max leans in and whispers, "This trophy will be in our home with your name on it." The camera clicks, immortalizing my beaming smile and the joy of the moment. 

 Just as the final photo is taken, an usher appears and announces that the guests should make their way to the dining room. The Prince and Princess indicate for the rest of the guests to proceed, and we stay behind, knowing we will be the last to enter. 

As the room begins to clear, I reach into my pocket and pull out a power bank and my phone. The battery is almost dead, and I need to make sure I can contact my friends later for the after-party, so I plug my phone in and hold both gadgets in my hand. 

Max watches me with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure power banks aren't standard accessories for a tuxedo." 

I laugh, shrugging. "Can't let the phone die on a night like this." 

Max chuckles, adjusting his bow tie as Fred shakes his head in mock disapproval, both of them with smiles playing at the corners of their mouths. 

The Prince approaches us with a warm smile. "It's time for us to go," he says, gesturing towards the dining room. 

We follow the Prince and Princess to the entrance of the dining room. As we walk, I keep my phone and power bank discreetly in my hand, ensuring my connection to the outside world remains intact. 

The grand doors swing open, revealing the opulent dining room filled with elegantly dressed guests. Crystal chandeliers bathe the room in a golden light, and the sound of soft classical music adds to the atmosphere. 

As we step into the room, the guests rise to their feet, applauding. The sight is both overwhelming and exhilarating. I catch Max's eye, and he gives me a reassuring smile. 

"You look like you're about to give a speech," I tease, leaning closer to him. 

"Just trying to keep my cool," he murmurs back, his hand finding mine and giving it a quick squeeze. "And make sure you don't trip over your own feet." 

I chuckle softly, feeling his touch steadying me. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." 

He grins, his eyes sparkling with pride and affection. "Always." 

As we step out of the car, the neon lights of Jimmy'z cast a vibrant glow across the VIP entrance. The energy of the music pulses in the air, matching the excitement still thrumming in my veins. Charles stumbles slightly as he exits, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. 

I chuckle, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. "Easy there, race winner. We don't want you falling before we even get inside." 

Charles leans into me, his breath warm against my ear. "I’m fine, just a little tipsy." 

"A little tipsy? More like a lot tipsy," I tease, pulling a pair of sunglasses from my pocket. "Here, put these on. They'll help you look less... well, drunk." 

He takes the sunglasses with a grin, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he slides them on. "Do I look cool?" he asks, striking a playful pose. 

"Very cool," I reply, laughing. "But let's keep it together until we get inside, okay?" 

We lean against the wall, waiting for the security guard to escort us in. Charles fidgets beside me, his hand wandering up and down my back, fingers slipping under my jacket. I grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

"Behave," I murmur, though I can't help but smile at his antics. 

"Can’t help it," he whispers back, his voice low and sultry. "You’re irresistible." 

"And you’re drunk," I add, tugging lightly on his white shirt to straighten it. "Just try to keep your hands to yourself for a bit longer." 

"But where’s the fun in that?" he challenges, a naughty glint in his eye. His hand slips down to my waist, fingers teasing the waistband of my pants. 

"Schatje..." 

Before I can say more, the security guard arrives with a Monaco flag in hand. "Gentlemen, if you could put this over your heads, it'll help keep the fans at bay." 

I raise an eyebrow but take the flag. "Everyone will know it's us anyway." 

"Do we get to be invisible?" 

I can't help but snort at Charles's question. "Just follow the security guard, you goof," I tell him, draping the flag over our heads. 

The security guard leads the way, and Charles places a hand on his shoulder for guidance, still giggling. I follow close behind, keeping a steadying hand on Charles’s back to make sure he doesn’t fall. 

As we make our way through the entrance, cameras flash around us, confirming my previous assumption. When we finally reach our VIP area, I pull the flag off our heads, and almost immediately, we’re met with a barrage of champagne sprays. 

"Let's get this party started!" one of Charles’s friends shouts, handing him a fresh bottle of champagne. 

The next couple of hours fly by in a blur of laughter, dancing, and more drinks. Charles is the center of attention, his joy and energy contagious. I keep an eye on him, making sure he doesn't get too out of control, but I can't help but get caught up in the celebration too. 

Two hours in, the atmosphere shifts as a new song starts playing. It's not a song that I recognize, but the slow, sensual beat is irresistible. Charles, swaying slightly, turns to me. 

"Dance with me," he says, extending his hand. 

I chuckle, grabbing his hand and pulling him into me. "To a song about steady green broccoli?" 

He laughs, the sound rich and carefree. "Who cares? It has a good beat." 

"Alright, Schatje," I say softly, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Let's dance." 

We start moving to the rhythm, our bodies swaying in sync with the music. As the lyrics of the song drift through the air—"steady on my grind, no wan hear what they wan' telly me kudi na my fantasy"—I can't help but chuckle internally. The irony isn't lost on me. Charles has been more than steady on his grind; he's just won the Monaco Grand Prix. Talk about success. 

The playful atmosphere begins to shift subtly. The proximity and the intimate nature of the dance draw us closer. Charles’s breath is warm against my neck, his hands sliding down my back, fingers pressing into my flesh. I can feel his arousal growing, a hard pressure against my thigh that matches my own burgeoning desire. My hands grip his hips, guiding our movements, pressing our bodies tighter together. Each sway of our hips sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I can tell by the way Charles gasps and moans softly into my ear that he feels the same. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he pants, his voice husky with need. 

I chuckle softly, leaning in to nibble on his earlobe. “Good.” 

He tilts his head back slightly, exposing his neck, and I can't resist the urge to press my lips to the tender skin, sucking gently. Charles groans, his hips jerking against mine, the friction igniting a fire deep within us both. 

 I glance around, noticing that the crowd is absorbed in their own revelries. No one is paying attention to us now. A wicked thought sparks in my mind. Still holding Charles close as we dance, I guide us to a slightly hidden corner and press him against the wall, my thigh slipping between his legs. He looks up at me, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, a sly grin curving his lips. 

I lean in, my lips brushing his ear. “Make yourself cum, Schatje.” 

His eyes widen briefly with surprise and then darken further with lust. “Tout de suite, bébé,” he replies, as he begins to grind against my thigh, his movements slow at first, then more insistent as the friction builds. His hands grip my shoulders for support, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt. 

“That’s it,” I murmur, my hands sliding down to grasp his hips, guiding his movements. The feel of his hard length rubbing against me, his soft moans mixing with the music, is intoxicating. 

Charles’s eyes flutter shut, his lips parting as he loses himself in the sensation. “Merde,” he pants, his voice a hushed whisper filled with need. “Feels so good.” 

I tighten my grip on his hips, helping him find a steady rhythm. “Keep going, Schatje. Don’t stop.” 

His breath comes in short, sharp gasps as he grinds harder against my thigh, the fabric of our pants creating delicious friction. His arousal is palpable, a hard pressure against me that only intensifies with each movement. 

The music pulses around us, a private soundtrack to our intimate dance. Charles’s moans grow louder, his movements more frantic. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath my lips. 

“I’m close,” he gasps, his voice trembling with the effort of holding back. 

“Let go, Schatje,” I whisper, my lips brushing his ear. “Cum for me.” 

With a final, desperate thrust, he shudders against me, his body going rigid as he finds his release. His moan is muffled against my neck, his grip on my shoulders tightening as he rides out the waves of pleasure. 

I hold him close, feeling the heat of his body against mine, the wetness spreading through his pants. “That’s it, Schatje,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “You did so well.” 

Charles collapses against me, his breathing heavy, his body trembling with the aftershocks. I stroke his back soothingly, my own erection throbbing with the need to claim him fully, but content for now to simply hold him.

[l-estappen]

The Crown Jewel 🇲🇨 iv. Qualifying Session & No Good Morning Kisses

After the Qualifying Press Conference, I navigate through the bustling paddock, weaving past eager fans and persistent reporters. The sun casts a golden glow over the principality, the azure sea in the background adding to the magical ambiance of the day.

Securing pole position in my hometown is a thrill that's still buzzing through my veins, but I know the real challenge lies ahead. The narrow streets of Monaco are as beautiful as they are unforgiving. Pole position is significant, but it's only the beginning of what promises to be an intense and demanding race.

Deciding to check on Max after his qualifying session, I make my way to the Red Bull Hospitality. Max finished in P6, and I know he must be feeling the frustration of not being higher up the grid.

A few Red Bull mechanics nod in my direction as I pass by. The air is filled with the scent of fuel and the hum of activity. I spot Max inside the garage, deep in conversation with his race engineer. His shoulders are tense, and he gestures emphatically, his frustration clear. But as if sensing my presence, he turns his head, and when our eyes meet, a smile lights up his face, momentarily dispelling any tension.

Max raises his hand, holding up two fingers to signal for me to wait a moment. GP glances over Max's shoulder, spots me, and gives a thumbs up with a knowing smile, acknowledging my pole position. Keeping my distance from the garage entrance, I return the gesture with a nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite our team rivalry.

When Max starts to make his way towards me, I can see the love and pride radiating from his piercing blue eyes, a look that makes my heart swell.

"Hello, Mr. Pole-sitter," Max greets me, his voice a mix of genuine happiness and playful teasing. I take in his appearance—his tousled blond hair damp with sweat, the fitted Red Bull racing suit clinging to his athletic frame, highlighting the powerful muscles honed by years of racing.

"Salut, mon beau," I reply, matching his tone. "How are you holding up?"

Max shrugs, the frustration from earlier still lingering in his expression, but there's a warmth in his eyes that reassures me. "It’s tough, you know. The car wasn’t where I wanted it to be. But we’ll have to make the best of it."

I nod, understanding the weight of his words. "You always do. Monaco’s tricky, but you’ve got the skill to navigate through. And hey, it's a long race. Anything can happen."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighs, then a small smile tugs at his lips. “But you know what would really help?"

I raise an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?"

"A kiss or a hug from my pole-sitter," Max replies with a playful tone.

I glance around, noting the bustle of the paddock and the watchful eyes of team members and media. Our relationship is public, but we've always kept our PDA to a minimum, respecting the professional environment we work in. Max follows my gaze and looks around as well, his smile fading slightly. "A guy can hope, right?" he murmurs with a hint of sadness.

Taking a step closer, my heart aches at his subdued tone. "Once we're home, I'll shower you with kisses," I promise softly.

Max's eyes light up with a hint of mischief, then quickly turn to a scowl. "Now that I remember, you didn't give me a good morning kiss before you crept out from our bed today."

I smile, shaking my head. "I didn't exactly creep out. As I told you yesterday, I had some media things to finish and left way too early. I didn't want to wake you up."

Max frowns, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. "Depriving me of my good morning kiss. How dare you?"

"I did kiss you," I insist gently. "But you were sleeping."

"That doesn't count," he grumbles.

I step closer to him, lowering my voice so only he can hear. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Once we're home, I'll make sure you won't feel deprived at all."

"It better be good," Max mutters, but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, betraying his attempt to stay grumpy.

All I want to do right now is kiss him, but instead of a more obvious gesture, I step even closer to Max and subtly touch the tip of my shoe to his, a small but meaningful gesture we've developed to offer each other comfort.

Max's eyes flicker down to our touching shoes, and he smiles, a genuine warmth spreading across his face. "Thanks, Schatje," he whispers, his voice soft enough that only I can hear.

"Anytime," I reply, gently nudging his foot with mine. "You know I'm always here for you."

[l-estappen]

The Crown Jewel 🇲🇨 iii. FP1 & FP2

I slam the door behind me, the echo reverberating through our penthouse. Frustration churns in my gut like a bad meal after the practice sessions. As I step from the entry hall into the living room, Leo, Jimmy, and Sassy rush to greet me, their excitement a brief distraction from my annoyance. 

“Hey troublemakers,” I murmur, bending down to ruffle Leo’s ears and give Jimmy a quick scratch under the chin. Sassy meows imperiously until I give her a proper head rub. 

Charles is on the couch. His eyes flick up to meet mine as I walk in, and whatever he sees in my face prompts him to stand and cross the room in a few quick strides. 

"Rough day?" he asks, wrapping me in a warm embrace and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. 

I let myself melt into his hold for a moment before pulling back slightly. “You could say that. The car felt like it was jumping all over the place. I’ve got a headache from it.” 

Charles’s eyes soften with concern. “I heard you were struggling. And you clipped the barriers? Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just frustrated.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the lingering irritation. “Meanwhile, you were flying out there.” 

He chuckles, a touch of pride in his eyes. “Yeah, but it wasn’t perfect. I went too deep into Sainte-Dévote in FP2. Nearly spun myself out.” 

“Still, you managed to top the timesheets. Almost a second clear of everyone else. That’s impressive, even with the mistake.” 

“Thanks,” he says, a modest smile playing on his lips. “But it’s just practice. Tomorrow’s what really counts.” 

I nod, though the pressure still weighs heavily on me. “I know. But the car… it just doesn’t feel right. We need to find a solution before qualifying. I don’t expect miracles, but something’s got to change.” 

Charles leads me to the couch and pulls me down beside him. “You will. You’ve got the best team behind you, and you always pull through when it counts.” 

I glance at him, his confidence in me unwavering. It’s a look that usually calms my nerves, but today, the frustration lingers. I take a deep breath, trying to dispel the tension coiled in my chest, but it only tightens further. Grinding my jaw, I get up from the couch. 

“Chéri?” Charles calls after me, confusion and concern evident in his voice. 

“I just need a minute,” I mutter as I stalk towards the bedroom. 

Closing the bedroom door behind me and leaning against it, I take another deep breath, trying to let go of the day’s stress. I need to find a way to release this tension, to calm the storm inside me. My eyes land on the discarded bottle of lube on the bed, and a memory surfaces—how Charles's cock always helps me unwind, grounding me in the moment and dissolving my worries. 

Picking up the lube, I return to the living room to find Charles still sitting on the couch, his brows knitting together in confusion. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, worry etched in his features. 

I hold up the lube, my gaze steady on his. "I need you to help me calm down." 

Charles’s eyes widen slightly, then soften with understanding. "Take off your clothes," he says, the command gentle but firm. 

I sigh deeply, unable to stop the sound escaping my lips. Tossing the lube beside Charles on the cushions, my shoulders already drop half the tension I’ve been carrying. Fingers trembling with anticipation, I strip off my clothes and climb into his lap. 

Charles's hands are on me instantly, his touch soothing. He strokes my back, each caress making me shiver, and his lips find my neck, trailing hot, hungry kisses down to my shoulder. 

I pant softly, squirming in his lap. "Schatje, please, hurry up," I beg, my voice raw with desperation. 

"Patience, Max," he murmurs. He takes his time, coating his fingers with the slick lube before pressing two inside me. I gasp, the stretch easing some of the tension that’s been knotting my muscles all day. 

His fingers move with practiced precision, curling and scissoring inside me, each movement hitting spots that make my body jolt . Heat pools low in my belly, my skin prickling with goosebumps as he works me open. 

I feel every ridge of his fingers, every shift and twist as he stretches me further. My breaths come in ragged gasps, the intense pleasure making my eyes mist. My hips instinctively push down against his hand, craving more of the delicious friction, more of the sweet, burning stretch. 

“Baby, fuck, please,” I plead once more, but he doesn’t rush. He adds a third finger, stretching me further, and I feel myself loosening, my body opening up to him. 

“I’m getting there, bébé,” he says, his lips grazing my collarbone. 

I bite my lip, unable to hold back a moan as his fingers press against my prostate. The more he moves inside me, the more my body responds, rocking and grinding down onto his hand, my muscles clenching and releasing around his fingers, desperate for the tranquility that only he can give. 

Finally, when I’m panting and trembling in his arms, Charles warns, "I'm pulling my fingers out."  

I whine at the loss, feeling achingly hollow, my body clenching around the emptiness left behind. But before I can voice another complaint, his hands move with practiced ease, unbuttoning his pants and he lifts me slightly, just enough to free his amazing dick.  

I watch, breath hitching, as he grabs the lube, slicking his cock with long, deliberate strokes, and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. 

“Come here, chéri,” he murmurs, guiding me back onto his lap and I position myself eagerly, hands braced on his shoulders. 

Slowly, he aligns himself with my entrance, the tip nudging against me. I moan softly, my body quivering as he takes his time, pushing in gradually, letting me adjust to the stretch. The sensation is exquisite, a delicious burn that has me gasping and clutching at him. 

“Putain, you feel so good,” Charles groans, his voice thick with lust. He continues to press into me, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside. 

A shudder runs through me, my body surrendering to the delicious fullness. I let out a long, trembling breath, my muscles softening as the tension seeps away. My arms wrap tightly around Charles' shoulders, my face pressing into the crook of his neck, his scent and warmth enveloping me. 

His hands stroke my back, each touch coaxing out the last remnants of stress. I melt against him, feeling my frustration dissolve completely. 

Charles kisses my temple, a tender gesture that contrasts with the raw intimacy of our position. He shifts slightly, making sure we’re both comfortable, then pulls a blanket over us, cocooning us in warmth. 

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. 

Charles kisses my temple again, then my forehead, then my lips. “I love you too, mon coeur,” he replies softly. 

We stay like that, the only movement being the occasional tightening of my arms around him and the gentle rise and fall of our breaths. Charles's cock stays buried deep inside me, and every worry, every frustration from the day dissolves, leaving me floating in a haze of contentment. 

Minutes stretch into an hour, with him still buried deep inside me. There's something about the way he holds me so still that makes me feel so full, so completely taken. I can feel my cock stirring to life, the tip glistening with fresh precum, begging for attention. I shift a little, trying to create some friction, but Charles's hands tighten on my hips, keeping me firmly in place. 

"Please, Charles," I pant, my voice raw with desperation. "I need... I need more." 

His fingers trail down my spine, leaving a path of tingling sensation in their wake. "I know you do, chéri," he whispers, his tone a delicious blend of tenderness and dominance. “Just a little longer.” 

I moan as he moves slightly, just enough to rub the head of his cock against my prostate. The sensation makes my vision blur, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, and my fingers dig into his shoulders, needing something to anchor me as my senses reel. 

His hands roam my back, soothing and teasing all at once. “Good boy. You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, and the words send a thrill through me, making my cock twitch and leak against his stomach. 

I bite my lip, trying to hold back my whimpers, but the need inside me is too intense. “Charles, please,” I beg, my voice breaking. 

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through my chest as he grips my hips firmly and begins to move, slow and deliberate, his cock sliding in and out of me with a torturous rhythm. 

The pleasure is overwhelming, each thrust hitting my prostate perfectly, flooding me with waves of ecstasy. I cling to him, my body trembling with each slow, firm stroke. “Yes... Please... Godverdomme... Please,” I moan, my head falling back as I lose myself in the sensation. 

Charles’s hands are everywhere, stroking my back, my sides, my thighs, keeping me grounded as he fucks me. “You’re such a good boy, chéri,” he groans, his breath hot against my ear. “So perfect. You take my cock so well.” 

His praise makes my heart race, my body responding to his words as much as his touch. I can feel the pressure building inside me, a tight coil of pleasure ready to snap. “Please, I’m so close,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. 

“Not yet, chéri,” he replies, his thrusts becoming a little faster, a little harder. “Hold on for me, just a bit longer. You can do it. Be my good boy.” 

I nod, tears of pleasure and frustration stinging my eyes as I fight to hold back my orgasm. The sensation of his cock rubbing against my prostate, filling me so completely, is almost too much to bear. “Please, baby,” I beg, my voice cracking. “I need to come. Please let me come.” 

His fingers dig into my hips, his pace quickening as he drives me closer and closer to the edge. “Alright, bébé,” he says, his gravelly with want. “Be a good boy and come for me.” 

His words are my undoing. With a strangled cry, I release, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that leaves me shaking. My untouched cock jerks, shooting hot, sticky cum between us, my muscles clenching and squeezing around Charles’s dick. I grip him like a lifeline, my nails digging into his shoulders, as pleasure crashes over me in relentless waves. 

Charles keeps fucking me as I ride out my orgasm, his hands digging into my hips as he slams into me. 

“Putain de merde,” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. I feel the warmth of his cum spreading inside me, an overwhelming sensation that makes me shudder and collapse against Charles, my head resting on his shoulder.  

The room is filled with the sound of our labored breathing, the scent of sex heavy in the air. My body feels deliciously spent, a languid warmth spreading through me as I cling to Charles, feeling the steady thump of his heart against mine. 

Charles shifts slightly, adjusting our positions to keep me comfortable while still buried deep inside me. His hand strokes my back in soothing circles, each touch grounding me further in the present moment. I sigh contentedly, my earlier frustrations now a distant memory. 

"You okay, chéri?" 

I nod against his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "More than okay." 

Charles chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through my chest. "Good. You know I'll always be here to help you unwind," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. 

[l-estappen]

Baby Leo 🐾

The incessant beeping of the alarm had my eyes opening, dragging me out of the depths of sleep. I rolled over to my side, fumbling for the snooze button, my hand colliding with the iPhone several times before I managed to silence it.

A strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against a warm, solid chest. “Tell me it isn’t time to wake up already,” Max grumbled.

“Not time for you, non,” I replied, trying to stifle a yawn, “but I want to go for a run before heading to the factory…”

"Max let out an exaggerated sigh, his breath warm against the back of my neck. “You're being too hard on yourself,” he said, pressing a kiss to my neck. “We only arrived from Japan yesterday.”

"Easy for you to say,” I murmured, snuggling closer, “You’re not the one trying to shave off milliseconds on the track.”

He chuckled softly, his hand finding mine and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I may not be in your shoes, but I know your worth. You just need to trust yourself.”

I couldn't help but smile at his words, his confidence in me always managing to break through my self-doubt.

Max shifted behind me, snuggling closer, his hand trailing down my side in a lazy caress, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my neck with gentle kisses. "So, what time do you want to be at the factory?"

"Before 9 am," I replied, feeling a shiver run down my spine as his lips lingered on my neck. His closeness sent a warmth spreading through me, making it hard to focus on anything but the sensation of his touch.

"Maybe I can persuade you to do your cardio here instead of out there.”

“Hmm,” I sighed, pushing back until our naked bodies were perfectly aligned and my ass was cradling Max’s morning hard-on.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Max declared as he wrapped his fingers around my erection and grazed his lips over my shoulder.

“Merde, Max. That feels…” My words left me as he rolled his hips forward, rubbing himself along the crack of my ass.

“Mhmm. It feels fucking amazing, is what it feels,” Max stated as he kissed his way up my neck to nuzzle in behind my ear. “God, you’re fucking hard this morning.”

I reached back to put a hand on his hip and pull him closer, and when he sucked on the skin just under my ear, my hips punched forward, driving my cock through his tight fist.

“What did you expect?” I panted. “You’re all over me.”

Max nipped at my ear, his hand moving in leisurely strokes, spreading the sticky evidence of my arousal up and down my length.

“I am, aren’t I?” He asked, and wrapped a leg over the top of mine so he could really start to move against me. “Jesus, you feel unbelievable.”

I smoothed my hand down his thigh to his knee, tugged it further over my hip, and thrust back into him. “So do you.”

“Feel so fucking good.” Max muttered, his hand was moving up and down my flesh as he rubbed himself off against my ass, and I was anything but idle. I had one hand under my pillow and the other up holding his leg in place as we moved in sync. It was sensual as hell as we moved against one another amongst the shadows playing across our sheets, but soon it all became too much, and I reached down and halted Max’s hand.

“Wait,” I managed, my breathing heavy. But Max’s hips had a mind of their own, unable to stop now that he’d started. “Not like this,” I whispered, and Max kissed my ear and removed his hand from my cock to stroke his fingers along the shadowy cleft of my ass instead.

“No?”

“Non. I want— Oh mince, Max,” I whimpered as he gently probed my hole.

“What do you want, Schatje? Tell me…” Max requested as he pushed the tip of his finger in deeper.

The throaty growl that left me had Max’s dick throbbing, and when I turned my head and caught his mouth in a rough kiss, Max speared his tongue between my lips and took a thorough taste. Then I was moving.

I let go of Max’s leg, and as it slipped off my hip, Max rolled to his back and I shifted up onto my knees to straddle him.

“This,” I said as I wrapped a hand around my dick and began to stroke. Max greedily watched as my arm flexed and bunched as I masturbated, up and down, over and over, until I was shoving my hips forward to fuck my fist a little faster. “I want to watch your face while I do this. I want to get off to you.”

Max smoothed his palms up my thighs and around to my ass. When he had a good hold of me, he tugged me forward a little until I had to reach out with a hand to brace myself on the headboard to stay upright.

“I got no problem with that,” Max groaned as my hair fell down over my forehead and my lips parted. I licked them as I tunneled into my hand time and time again, creating that tight, hot friction on my dick, and as I did, Max’s fingers crept between the crack of my ass to gently spread me apart.

“Putain, Max,” I gasped, my breath catching a little as Max ran the pads of his fingers over my back entrance and I saw the arm I had braced on the headboard shake. I groaned and my head fell back as I moved my hips in a way that made my entire body bow forward.

“Damn, Charles, come on. Use me,” Max growled, playing around with my hole, slipping one, then two fingers inside me. Every time he did, I shoved back on them, craving more, but the wicked tease under me would pull his hand away with a devilish smirk.

His cock was leaking all over my stomach, and the more I writhed over him, the messier our skin became. But I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed a taste of his mouth and to feel his thick shaft against my own.

Shifting, I planted my hand a little lower on the headboard so I could rub my cock along the length of his’s and wrap a hand around both of us.

“Klootzak,” Max cursed as he craned his head back into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Use you like this?” I asked as sunlight slipped through the curtains, illuminating Max’s face.

His eyes opened, blazing blue as he said, “More. Use me more.”

I grunted, tightening my knees on either side of his hips, moving my entire body in a sensual rhythm that had our dicks rubbing together and my ass clenching around his fingers.

“Oh fuck. That’s… Ahh… You feel—”

“Mmm,” I moaned, doing it again, a little more forcefully, relishing in Max grabbing my ass.

“Again,” he demanded.

I rocked forward, and this time Max arched up off the mattress to meet me halfway, his toes curling from pleasure as I gripped the pillow under his head.

Capturing his mouth with mine, I shoved my tongue between his lips. As we tangled with each other, I began to grind my hips over his harder, faster, needing more.

“Fuck. Fuck, Charles,” Max said as he tore his mouth free, and I kissed my way up his jaw to his ear.

“Wrap a hand around us,” I demanded.

His eyes flared at the request, and as I let go, I felt Max reach down between us and take over.

“Yeah,” I groaned, bringing my hand up to his mouth, wanting him to taste the arousal coating my fingers. As Max began to suck me clean, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

I began to thrust against him, in and out of his strong fist, which was holding us both captive. When my orgasm threatened and the sensations became too intense to hold back anymore, my fingers curled around the pillow where his head rested, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the intense pleasure coursing through me.

He is one sexy fucker. That was the only thought in my head as I looked up into the flushed face hovering over me. Charles’ dick was throbbing in my hand as it leaked all over mine, and it was hot as fuck as I continued to rub myself up and down.

Charles hadn’t held back when I told him to use me… Instead, the gorgeous fucker had decided to give me one of the most sensual body massages imaginable, and as his fingers flexed into the pillow by my head, I knew he was close.

I gnawed my way up Charles’ jaw and said, “Come all over us. I want to feel it.”

His eyes flew open then, and I almost lost it. The usual emerald green was dark and dilated from his arousal, turning into a forest green. With sunrise now upon us, the morning light filtered through the curtains and made his hair shine and his skin glow, as the fucker began to writhe over me in a way that had my eyes close to rolling to the back of my head.

But fuck that; I wasn’t going to miss this. Not for anything in the world. I wanted to watch his face when he finally lost it and came all over the both of us, and it was about to happen—any second now. His hips were moving desperately as he fucked up against me, and then his cock began to pulse and his shoulders stiffened.

Yeah, there you go, I thought, and twisted my hand around the both of us in a way that finally had a shout ripping out of Charles. It bounced off our bedroom walls as he came all over the two of us like a fucking geyser.

Oh, sweet Jesus, my breathing came hard and fast now as my own orgasm hovered right there, right on the edge, and when Charles slowly sat up on my thighs and reached out to trail his fingers through the sticky cum now coating his stomach, my balls tightened.

Do it, I thought, my eyes locked on the satiated man now running his hot gaze all over me. And when Charles brought his fingers up to his lips and did just that, I thanked whoever was listening for the sexy man still straddled over me, and reached down to furiously start working my dick.

“Christ, Charles,” I said, as he did it again and then offered me a smug smirk.

“I taste good,” he said, and then he leaned down to flick his tongue over the swollen head of my cock. “Now what about you?” And yeah, that was it: I gave myself a final tug, and before Charles could move out of the way, I came all over his chest and halfway up his neck.

His lazy eyes met mine, and he reached up to swipe his fingers through my cum and then brought them to his lips. “I was right. You taste good too.”

“You have a dirty fucking mouth,” I let out a deep, satisfied sigh and crooked a finger at him. When Charles leaned down, I whispered against his lips, “I want to taste it.”

He grinned against my mouth and opened to me for a thorough kiss, and when he raised his head, I licked my lips.

“Well,” I said. “I’m not sure about you, but that counts as a full-body workout in my book.” ***********************************************************************

As I lounged on the plush hotel bed, flipping through channels on the TV remote, boredom gnawed at me. Charles had promised he would be back before six. Yet, here I was, an hour later, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for him to return. Just as I was about to fire off a playful text to hurry him up, my phone screen lit up with a flood of notifications. I unlocked it to find my Instagram feed inundated with pictures of Charles. But they weren't the usual shots of him leaving the factory or chatting with fans. No, these were something else entirely. And by the looks of it, the internet was losing its collective mind over the adorable spectacle.

Scrolling through, I was greeted with image after image of Charles holding what looked like the tiniest dog I'd ever seen, curled up in the palm of his hand. The tiny ball of fur looked remarkably similar to Mimi, Charles's friend Doni Nahmias's pup, the pup that Charles obsessed with during weeks… I could already hear Charles's voice in my head, all excited and animated, gushing about how cute this dog was and how a dog would be the perfect addition to our little family. We already had Jimmy and Sassy ruling our apartment with iron claws; I couldn't fathom how a dog would fit into our already chaotic pet dynamic.

However, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Charles and the miniature furball dominating my Instagram feed. With a grin, I tapped out a message to him, fingers dancing across the screen.

Schatje ❤

Schatje, is the world's smallest dog slowing you down? You were supposed to arrive one hour ago. 😟

In the blink of an eye, the text bubbles danced onto the screen, but just as quickly as they appeared, they vanished. As I stared at the screen, waiting for Charles's response, a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't like him to ignore my messages, except if he knew he had done something he shouldn't…

Just as I was starting to type another text, I heard the door of our suite creak open, signaling Charles's arrival. His footsteps echoed faintly as he made his way to the bedroom. No greeting? I pondered, suspiciously. When Charles came into view, a guilty expression flickered across his face before he quickly tried to hide it with a forced smile. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed that he still held the tiny dog in his hand.

"Bonsoir, mon amour," Charles saluted, his voice a tad too cheery.

I raised an eyebrow, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. "Why is the dog here?"

Charles's smile faltered for a moment before he recovered, presenting the tiny pup with an outstretched hand. "Isn't he just the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

I kept my eyes locked with him, refusing to glance at the puppy. "Please, tell me that you did not adopt a dog without discussing it with me first.

Charles grimaced, and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, I may have gotten a little carried away… But look at him, Max! How could anyone resist those puppy eyes?"

"He's undeniably cute," I admitted, keeping my gaze fixed on Charles and holding my ground, "but that doesn't change the fact that you should have talked to me first."

"Come on, Max, you know how impulsive I can be sometimes."

I sighed, feeling torn between fondness and exasperation. "You know we talked about this, Charles. We agreed that adding another pet to our chaotic household wasn't the best idea."

Charles's shoulders slumped, his puppy-dog eyes mirroring the tiny pup in his hand. "Je sais, je sais," he conceded, his voice tinged with regret. "But look at him, Max. He's already stolen my heart."

I snuck a quick look to the puppy nestled in Charles's palm. Its creamy fur was like spun silk, soft and luxurious to the touch, inviting anyone nearby to run their fingers through its velvety strands. Each tuft seemed to glow in the warm light of the room, creating an aura of gentle radiance around the tiny creature. But it was the puppy's eyes that truly captivated me. Deep pools of warm brown, they held a world of innocence and curiosity within their depths.

"I'm not denying his cuteness,” I relented, “but what about Jimmy and Sassy? How do you think they'll react to this intruder in their domain?"

"You're worrying too much," Charles said, his tone pleading. "Jimmy and Sassy are going to adore this little guy. Just imagine the three of them playing together, it'll be adorable!"

I shook my head, trying to suppress a smile at Charles's optimism. "I hope you're right, but you know how territorial they can be. Especially Sassy, she might not take this kindly."

As Charles paled at the mention of Sassy's potential reaction, I couldn't help but stifle a chuckle. "Looks like someone forgot about Sassy's queenly demeanor."

"I may have overlooked that tiny detail," he admitted, his tone laced with nervousness.

"Remember when you brought over your cousin's parrot to stay with us for the weekend? Sassy didn't look at you for a week!"

A nervous laugh escaped Charles. "Let's hope history doesn't repeat itself with our new guest."

I nudged him playfully. "Well, if Sassy does give you the cold shoulder, at least you'll have someone else to snuggle up to."

Charles glared at me. "Very funny, Max. You're supposed to be on my side here."

I grinned. "As you are supposed to not make life-changing decisions without talking to me first?"

As Charles's gaze shifted from the puppy to me, a woeful expression painted across his face, I couldn't help but soften a bit. Despite my annoyance, it was hard to stay mad at him when he looked so genuinely contrite.

"I know I messed up," he began, his voice earnest, "I should have talked to you before bringing him home. It was impulsive, and I'm sorry.”

I draped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "It’s okay, Schat. But please, in the future, let's make decisions together, especially ones that affect our home and our pets."

"I will be more considerate," Charles promised, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around my waist. "I guess I'll just have to win Sassy over with some extra treats and belly rubs."

As he nestled closer, his warmth enveloping me, I couldn't help but let out a sigh of contentment. "I'm sure Sassy will come around," I reassured him, running a hand through his hair. "It might take some time, but she's a softie deep down.”

Charles leaned into my touch, his expression softening. "I hope so. I can't bear the thought of her giving me the cold shoulder."

I chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Maybe Jimmy will take a liking to the little guy immediately and help smooth things over with Sassy." I hoped, turning my attention to the tiny dog. I reached out tentatively, letting him sniff my hand before scooping him up.

As I cradled the tiny dog in my arms, I couldn't help but notice how he nestled against me, his warmth radiating comfort. Charles stood beside me, his gaze soft as he watched the scene unfold.

"He's really something, isn't he?" Charles murmured, his fingers gently stroking the pup's soft fur.

"He sure is," I agreed, feeling a surge of affection for the little ball of fluff. "What do we name him?"

Charles grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "How about Maona?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "As much as I love that place, I think we need to stop naming our pets after nightclubs and cafés. It gives off bad parent vibes."

"Fair point," Charles conceded, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "What about Enzo?"

I considered it for a moment before shaking my head again. "I like the name, but I refuse to have my dog named after Enzo Ferrari. I know that's what you were trying to do."

Charles chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged, but hey, can you blame me for being inspired by greatness?"

I chuckled, rolling my eyes affectionately. "Don't worry, we'll find the perfect name. How about something classic like Charlie?"

Charles raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you trying to name the dog after me?"

I shrugged innocently. "It's a good name! Plus, it's easy to remember."

"True," Charles conceded, his smirk widening into a grin. "But we can't have two Charlies running around the house. It'll get confusing."

"Good point," I admitted, scratching my head in thought. "What about Leo? It suits his adorable face."

Charles nodded in approval. "I like it! Leo it is."

With the name settled, we shared a smile, feeling a sense of unity as we welcomed Leo into our lives. As I watched Charles playfully nuzzle Leo’s tiny nose, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected joy that had entered our home. Maybe adding another pet to our already bustling household wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. But one thing was for sure: Charles and his impulsive decisions were going to keep me on my toes for a long time to come.

[l-estappen]

Imola Grand Prix 🏁

Practice was over, and I found myself back in the garage, surrounded by the hum of computers and the chatter of my team. My outing in FP1 for the 2024 Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix at Imola had been a tough one. The grip was lacking, the tires weren't heating up as they should, and I ran off track twice—once even kicking up gravel. The handling was unpredictable, especially when braking late into corners, and I ended the session in fifth place.

Now, it was time to figure out what the hell was going on with the car. The data was pouring in—telemetry, tire temperatures, aerodynamic measurements. It was a sea of numbers, but to me, it was a story. A story of how the car behaved, how it reacted to every input I gave it.

As I sat there, poring over the data with my engineers, my phone buzzed. I sneaked a glance at it to see a message from Charles, opened it and saw a selfie of Charles grinning, holding Leo, who was looking adorable with his tiny Red Bull bandana. The caption read: "We heard you could use some cheering up. We’re at the back left corner of your team's ugly motorhome 🐶🐾"

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch into a smile. Trust Charles to know exactly how to lift my mood, even in the midst of a disappointing practice session. I quickly typed back a response, telling the engineers I would be right back, my heart feeling a bit lighter.

Sure enough, when I rounded the corner, there they were. Charles was leaning casually against the wall, holding Leo, who wagged his tail furiously, almost leaping out of Charles's arms as he saw me.

"There’s one of my favorite duos," I called out, walking over and scratching Leo behind the ears. "Hey, buddy."

Charles handed Leo to me, and I took him, feeling his warm, wiggly body against my chest. "Tough session?"

"Yeah, it was a mess. But this helps," I said, nuzzling Leo’s soft fur. "And you help."

He smiled, leaning in to give me a quick kiss. "We thought you might need a pick-me-up. And Leo’s been dying to see you."

I laughed. "I can tell. Did Maman bring him?" Leo squirmed happily in my arms, licking my chin.

"Oui," Charles replied. He glanced over to where Pascale was making her way toward us, her bright smile lighting up the area. "Speaking of which, here she comes."

Pascale approached us, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Bonjour, Max! How are you feeling, mon cher?"

I shrugged, trying to downplay my frustration from the session. "I’ve had better days, but seeing you all here definitely helps."

She gave me a quick hug, her presence comforting as always. "I heard the session was tough. But remember, it's just practice. You always pull through when it counts."

"Thanks, Maman. I'll keep that in mind," I replied.

Pascale glanced at Charles. "I am going to grab a coffee. Would you like anything?"

Charles shook his head, his gaze flickering briefly to mine before returning to Pascale. "Non, merci, Maman. But would you mind taking Leo with you?"

I couldn't help but pout. Leo's warm little body was a comfort in my arms, and I wasn't ready to part with him just yet. But something in Charles' eyes told me there was more to his request than just wanting Leo to accompany Pascale.

"Of course, I'll take him. Come on, mon petit chien, let's go find some treats."

As Pascale disappeared with Leo trotting happily at her heels, Charles turned to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, now that we have a moment alone," he said, stepping closer, "there's something I've been wanting to do since you stepped out of the garage."

"What kind of trouble are you planning now?" I asked.

With his racing suit pushed down to his waist and his red fireproof shirt accentuating every curve and muscle of his toned torso, Charles looked like sin incarnate in his Ferrari gear.

His hands reached out to grab my waist, pulling me flush against him. "The kind you'll enjoy," he declared before his lips crashed against mine, hot and demanding; there was no gentle exploration, no teasing buildup—just raw hunger and need. His tongue pushed past my lips, exploring every crevice of my mouth with a fervor that left me breathless. It was a clash of wills, a battle for dominance that had me moaning into his mouth.

"Schatje," I managed to mumble, pulling back slightly, trying to catch my breath and wondering what was going on. We had always had fiery chemistry, but this… this was something else entirely. This made my heart race faster than any lap around the track ever could.

Charles seemed unfazed by my momentary retreat, his lips trailing kisses from my jaw down to my neck, igniting a trail of fire along my skin. "You taste so good."

"What are you up to?" I shot back, though my voice wavered slightly with the lingering desire his touch had sparked.

His lips curved into a wicked grin against my skin, his hands roaming over my back with a possessiveness that made my head spin. "Can't I just kiss my boyfriend?"

"You can, but that wasn't just a kiss and you know it," I countered, tilting my head back to give him better access to my neck.

Charles nuzzled against it. "I may have, or I may have not, plugged myself in," he admitted, his breath hot against my neck.

"What?"

"I installed an app on your phone," he continued, his voice a low rumble against my earlobe, "so you will be in charge of everything."

My mind reels with the implications of his words. Control. Power. Desire. All tangled up in this sinful game he was playing. "And you want me to turn it whenever I want?" I whispered, the realization hitting me like a bolt of lightning.

"That's exactly what I want, bébé," he said as I guided him to a secluded corner nestled between the towering walls of the motorhome, away from prying eyes and ears.

I pulled Charles close, our bodies pressed together, my fingers sliding greedily over the smooth contours of his body, mapping the lines of his muscles and digging into the fabric of his racing suit. My touch sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching as he leaned into my hand, silently encouraging me to explore further. With a smirk playing on my lips, I traced the outline of the plug, feeling its smooth surface beneath my fingertips.

"You dirty little tease," I whispered, voice dripping with desire as I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. "You're wearing this here, now?"

A low groan escaped Charles as his hips involuntarily rocked against my hand, seeking more contact, more friction. "I thought it was a good way to improve your mood," he confessed.

"Well, congratulations," I murmured, giving the plug a firm squeeze, relishing in the way Charles squirmed against me, his arousal evident and unapologetic. "You succeeded."

He let out a throaty groan as he pressed closer. "Glad I could help."

I slid my thigh between his legs, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing against me. "Seems like you're enjoying yourself," I remarked, my tone laced with amusement.

"Ah, putain," Charles muttered, his hands gripping my shoulders as he rocked against my leg.

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his jaw as I whispered, "You want more?"

"Oui," he moaned.

I grinned wickedly, my fingers deftly maneuvering the plug through the fabric of Charles' racing suit, pushing it further. The way his hips bucked against my thigh, and the growl that he managed to muffle by biting my shoulder, told me that my aim was pretty good.

"You're such a filth," I taunted, feeling him throb against me, "getting off between practices in the middle of the paddock where everyone could see…"

He trembled against me his breathing ragged as my words fueled his desire. "It’s your fault," he sighed, "you drive me crazy."

I smirked, reveling in the raw, unfiltered desire that flowed between us. "That's right," I whispered, pressing the plug further in. "You're mine to play with, to tease, to drive wild."

Charles let out a low growl, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate as he sought release. "S'il te plaît," he pleaded.

I tightened my grip on his ass, feeling the heat radiating from his body. "I want you to get off on me," I ordered, my voice firm and commanding.

Charles' eyes darkened with desire as he nodded, burying his face into my neck. He began rutting against my thigh, his lips brushing my skin as he tried to keep quiet.

"That’s it," I mumbled, moving the plug to rub against his prostate. Charles' reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a deep, guttural moan that he quickly stifled against my neck.

"Mon Dieu, Max," he groaned softly, his hips grinding harder against me.

I kept my hand steady on the plug, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild. "Keep going," I urged, my voice low and encouraging. "Show me how much you need this."

Charles' rhythm became erratic, his body trembling with the effort. "S'il te plaît," he whispered again.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. "You’re doing so well, Schatje," I whispered. "Just a little more."

His response was a choked moan, his movements growing more frenzied. I could feel the tension building in him, the way his body was straining toward release. With one final push of the plug, Charles' body convulsed as he found his climax, his strangled cry muffled against my neck.

As he rode his orgasm, I started to rub my thigh against his cock, prolonging his pleasure.

"That’s it," I encouraged, "ride it out."

Charles' body trembled with the aftershocks of his release, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. I held him tightly, feeling the tension slowly ebb away from his muscles.

"Christ," he muttered, his voice hoarse and raw. "That was… unexpected."

I smirked, running a hand through his damp hair. "You're telling me."

"In a better mood?" Charles asked, his eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss.

I let out a low chuckle, kissing his forehead. "Well, you certainly know how to distract me."

"One of my many talents," he quipped, his fingers trailing along the curve of my jaw.

I squirmed uneasily, feeling the familiar weight of frustrations returning, pressing down on me like a lead blanket. "Schatje, I don't know if today's a good day for this. I'm… not in the best headspace right now. I don't want to take it out on you."

"That's exactly what I want, mon amour. To take whatever you've got and make it mine. If it gets too much, you know we have a safe word," Charles said, his hand coming to rest on my cheek.

"I just don't want to hurt you," I confessed, the raw honesty in his words stirring something deep within me.

A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "You won't hurt me, Max. Not unless I ask you to."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, a mixture of arousal and apprehension coursing through my veins. I knew I should resist, but the primal urge to give in to Charles's desires was overpowering.

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. "You're a filthy little masochist, aren't you?" I murmured, my breath hot against his skin.

"Only for you, bébé," he remarked, winking.

********************************************************************

After the practice session ended, I found myself in the Ferrari garage, still riding high on adrenaline. The car felt perfect today, and it showed in my lap times. Topping the charts in FP2 with a blistering lap time felt incredible, yet a nagging thought lingered in the back of my mind—everything felt almost too perfect. Experience had taught me that in racing, when things seem too good to be true, they often are.

As I took off my helmet and ran a hand through my damp hair, I glanced at the screens broadcasting the replays. They showed Max near the Red Bull telemetry screens, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. He clearly struggled with the car's balance during practice, particularly in the middle sector. He had ended the session in seventh place, a significant 0.541 seconds behind me. Watching his tense posture and hearing the terse exchanges on the radio, it was evident he was having a tough time.

"The car's balance felt spot-on today," I told my race engineer, "but I want to make sure we didn't overlook anything."

Bryan nodded, bringing up a detailed chart of the car's performance. "The setup looks solid, but I noticed a slight understeer in turn 7."

I leaned into the workstation to get a better look at the data, and as I did, I felt a soft, pleasing vibration start inside me, spreading warmth from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my fingers and toes. A small grin tugged at the corners of my lips - Max had activated the plug.

"Understeer in turn 7, you said?" I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sensual pulsing of the plug against my ass.

"Yeah, it's not significant, but it could affect your entry speed into the next corner," Bryan explained.

I nodded, trying to focus on the information in front of me. "Can we adjust the front wing angle a bit?" I suggested, as my dick began to swell and harden against the confines of my racing suit. "That might help with the understeer." I finished, shifting my weight subtly, hoping my race engineer wouldn't notice my erection.

As if in tune with my request, the plug's mode changed, and it started hammering against my prostate with a delicious precision. I bit down on my lip, barely stifling a moan as a surge of pleasure tore through me, making my whole body tremble.

Bryan looked at me, slightly puzzled by my reaction. "Sure, we can do that. I'll make a note of it and have the team make the adjustment."

"Thanks," I said, as I discreetly adjusted myself, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure on my dick. "Anything else I should be aware of?"

Bryan continued to go through the data. "We'll also checked the tire pressures. They seem fine, but a bit of tweaking could help with the consistency."

I nodded, barely able to process his words. My cock was throbbing and leaking, soaking my boxers. I could feel the pleasure building, but I couldn't let go, not here, not now.

Bryan's voice droned on. "We should also look at the rear suspension settings. That might help with stability through the chicanes."

Through the app, my evil boyfriend must have seen how close I am because the plug's mode changed again, now rotating against my prostate in a slow but steady rhythm.

"Okay," I forced out, gripping the edge of the workstation tighter with white-knuckled intensity, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"Charles, are you okay?" Bryan asked, glancing up from the screen.

"I'm fine," I lied. The increased pressure made a whine bubble up from my throat, and I bit my lip hard to stifle it. "Can you go over the rear suspension settings again?" I wondered, needing a distraction.

"Sure," Bryan said, still eyeing me warily. "We need to adjust the dampers slightly to improve stability through the chicanes. I'll get the data for you."

As he turned to the computer, my hips bucked involuntarily, and I leaned against the workstation, trying to breathe through the overwhelming sensations. The plug was relentless, rotating against my prostate, building the pleasure to an unbearable level.

"Can we also look at the tire pressures?" I pondered, desperate to keep my mind occupied. "Maybe tweak them a bit for better consistency."

"That’s what I said," Bryan replied, turning back to me, clearly concerned. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

The rotation of the plug slowed slightly, but the pressure increased, making my whole body shudder. "Merde," I muttered under my breath, barely able to contain the moan that threatened to escape. I was so close, so fucking close.

"Charles, maybe you should take a break," Bryan's voice was urgent now. "You don't look well."

I could feel every ridge, every movement of the plug, as the vibrations intensified. My hole clenched tighter around it, the plug rotating faster, harder, making my breath come in ragged gasps and my erection strain painfully.

"I'm… I'm okay," I managed to gasp out. "Can you get me… a bottle of sparkling water?"

"Sure thing, Charles. Just hang tight."

As Bryan rushed off to fetch the water, I couldn't hold back any longer. My cock throbbed, my balls tightened, my hole clenched around the plug as I came hard, my cum soaking my boxers, my legs shaking with the intensity of it.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, and I leaned heavily against the workstation, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I tried to regain some composure.

Bryan returned with the water, handing it to me with a concerned look. "Here you go, Charles," he said, twisting off the cap. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I couldn't answer, too lost in the aftershocks, my body trembling, my mind reeling from the intensity of the orgasm.

"Do I need to call a doctor?"

"No… I think I just had a bit of a… voltage drop," I muttered, hoping he'd buy the excuse.

Bryan looked unconvinced, but he didn't push it. "Well, if you need anything else, just let me know."

I nodded, taking a long sip of the water to try and cool down the fire raging inside me. "Thanks, Bryan. I appreciate it."

He lingered for a moment longer, as if debating whether to say something, then finally turned back to his workstation, leaving me alone with my thoughts—or rather, my still-pulsating ass.

As the vibrations slowed, the plug still nestled inside me, I knew I was in for it later. But for now, I needed to focus. I straightened up, took a deep breath, and forced a smile. "Let's get back to work," I said, trying to sound normal.

Bryan nodded, still looking concerned, but he went along with it. "Okay, let's go over the data again." ********************************************************************

After qualifying, I made my way to the driver's room, the adrenaline from clinching pole position still buzzing in my veins. Setting a 1m 14.746s and beating Oscar Piastri by 0.074s felt incredible. Equaling Ayrton Senna's record of eight consecutive pole positions? Unbelievable. But I knew I couldn’t dwell on that—there was still work to be done.

As I opened the door, I saw Charles already there, hunched over with a frown etched deep on his beautiful face. He looked up as I entered, his frustration palpable.

"Hey, Schatje," I greeted, walking over to him. "Tough session?"

Charles pouted, making grabbing hands towards me. Despite his obvious disappointment, it was hard not to smile at how endearing he looked. I walked over and sat on his lap, feeling his arms wrap around me instantly. He buried his face in my neck, his breath warm against my skin.

"What happened?" I murmured, holding him close.

Charles sighed deeply. "I don't know. Maybe it was the power unit strategy, that cost us some time on the straights. But I’m feeling that McLaren was hiding their true pace during practice to caught us by surprise."

"I know it’s frustrating, but you’ve got the race to turn things around. Fourth isn’t the end of the world." I said, stroking his back soothingly.

He pulled back slightly to look at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I just hate feeling like we missed something. After such a good practice sessions, I thought we’d be higher up.

"You’re going to do great in the race," I assured him, cupping his face in my hands and brushing my thumb over his cheek. "You always find a way to make it work."

Charles sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. "I hope you're right."

"You know, I'm always right," I teased, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

He chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he leaned into the touch.

"I need to hit the shower and get ready for the virtual race…"

Charles nodded. "Do you mind if I stayed the night here? I don’t feel like sleeping alone."

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips at his suggestion. "Of course not," I replied, feeling warmth spread through me at the thought of having him close. "I'd like that."

Charles gave me a grateful nod before reaching for his phone on the nearby table. "Let me just text Maman to let her know that she will take care of Leo tonight."

"Perfect," I said, rising from his lap. "I'm going to hit the shower real quick."

As I made my way to the bathroom, I couldn't shake off the outcome of the qualifying session. Charles deserved better than fourth place, and it gnawed at me that he couldn't figure out what went wrong. But dwelling on it now wouldn't do us any good. I had a race to focus on, and it was evident that he needed my support.

Just as I was about to step into the shower, I heard the bathroom door creak open. I turned to see Charles standing there, biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that always made me want to kiss him senseless.

"What's up, Schatje?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. He shuffled on his feet, avoiding my gaze. "Um, do you… do you mind if I stay with you while you shower?"

"Of course not," I said, motioning for him to come closer. He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the bathroom, his eyes void of any emotion. It was a look I knew all too well, one that tugged at my heartstrings every time.

As I turned on the shower, the sound of cascading water filled the room, a soothing backdrop to our silent exchange. I let the warmth of the water wash away the day, the steam rising around me, cocooning me in a sense of calm. Charles stood by the sink, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

"Something on your mind, Schatje?" I ventured while I lathered up, the words muffled by the rush of water.

"Just… thinking," came his quiet reply.

I rinsed the soap from my body, letting the water cascade down my back. "About?"

"Something to take my mind off today, you know?"

I nodded, stepping out of the shower, the steam swirling around me as I reached for a towel. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking… do you mind plugged me in now, and fucking me senseless later?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his bluntness, his request catching me off guard yet somehow not surprising in the slightest. "Do you have the plug with you?"

He grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Oui. Is that a yes?"

Crossing the room in two quick strides, I draped the towel around my waist and wrapped my arms around Charles, pulling him close. "Of course it's a yes. Anything to make you feel better, Schatje."

"Thank you, Mon amour. I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Now I want you to go to the room, take off your clothes, and wait for me on the bed, head down, hips up, you know how."

Charles nodded, a glint of anticipation in his eyes as he headed towards the bedroom. I finished drying myself off, not bothering with modesty as I pulled on my shirt and shorts, and I made my way to the bedroom. I found Charles sprawled out like a pampered prince, definitely not in the position that I instructed.

"What's this, Charles?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I stepped closer to the bed, my gaze raking from his naked body to the plug and the bottle of lube that settled beside him. "I specifically told you how I wanted you."

"I didn't feel like it," he replied, his voice dripping with insolence.

My jaw clenched at his blatant defiance. "You think you can disobey me and get away with it?

"Maybe I do."

Reaching for his jeans and undoing the belt, I straddled his waist, rutting my body against his, feeling the hardness of his cock against mine. When desire began to cloud Charles' focus, I seized his wrists and restrained them with the belt, tying them securely to the bed's small iron headboard. His eyes widened in surprise, a gasp escaping his lips as he realized he was completely at my mercy.

Without a word, I reached for the bottle of lube, pouring a generous amount onto two of fingers. With slow, deliberate movements, I traced circles around his entrance, and he squirmed beneath me, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he strained against his restraints.

"Please, Mon amour," he begged, his voice thick with desire.

I chuckled darkly, choosing to remain silent as I pressed my lubed fingers against his entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with deliberate force. He gasped, his back arching as I worked him open, stretching him wide to accommodate the plug that would soon fill him completely.

I continued to prepare him, my fingers moving in and out of him with practiced precision, then scissoring him open. Charles moaned and writhed beneath me, his body aching for more.

Finally, when I deemed him ready, I withdrew my fingers and reached for the plug, coating it in lube before pressing it against his entrance. He gasped when I pushed it inside him, his body trembling with pleasure as I secured the plug in place, ensuring that it would remain firmly lodged inside him.

I grabbed his discarded boxers from the floor, balling them up.

"Open up," I ordered. Charles eyes widening, his lips pressed tightly together in defiance. I sighed, a smirk playing on my lips as I leaned down, pinching his nose shut. He resisted for a moment, his eyes blazing with challenge, but eventually, he had to open his mouth to breathe. I seized the opportunity and stuffed the boxers in, muffling any sound he might make.

"Stay quiet and be good," I murmured, planting a kiss on his forehead before turning away.

I made my way to the sim rig, the urgency of the 24 Hours of Nürburgring with Team Redline pulling me forward.

"Sorry, guys," I muttered into the headset as I connected, "had to take care of something."

Charles glared at me from his spot on the bed, his eyes already following my every move. I could see him shifting, trying to find a comfortable position with the plug inside him. I smirked, knowing he was feeling every bit of it.

"All set, Max?" one of my teammates asked.

"Yeah, let's do this," I replied, gripping the wheel. The race started, and I focused on the first few laps, getting into the rhythm. Five minutes in, I reached for my phone and with a quick swipe, I turned the plug on in mode two.

Charles' reaction was immediate. His legs trembled, his muscles involuntarily clenching around the plug as the vibrations surged through him. He let out needy sobs, hoping to grab my attention, his hips gyrating to the rhythm of the sensations, but I kept my focus on the screen.

Ten minutes later, I increased the intensity of the plug, dialing it up to level three and I couldn't help but smirk at the sight of Charles writhing on the bed, completely at my mercy.

Muting myself, I taunted, "Enjoying yourself, Schatje?"

Charles whimpered, his cock glistening with pre-cum, throbbed and twitched. I could see every pulse, every vein standing out against his flushed skin, aching for the release that seemed just out of reach. But I held back, enjoying the sight of him writhing in anticipation, his desire building with every passing moment.

I redirected my attention to the screen, my grip on the wheel tightening. The track was unforgiving, demanding every ounce of my concentration, but in the back of my mind, I could hear Charles's muffled moans, driving me wild with desire.

After fifteen minutes of intense racing, I decided to up the ante. I grabbed my phone and I increased the plug rhythm to level four. The moment the vibrations surged, Charles body convulsed with pleasure, his back arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy washed over him as he finally reached his climax, his entire body trembling with the force of his release.

I watched, mesmerized, as he rode his orgasm, and as he came down from his high, I tapped on my phone again, slowing the plug back to low mode. The vibrations softened, providing a gentle, lingering sensation that would keep him on edge, keep him wanting more.

"Feeling good, Schatje?" I teased, my voice dripping with amusement as I watched his skin glisten with a sheen of sweat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath.

He responded with a muffled groan, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he struggled against his restraints.

"Now, listen carefully," I instructed, my tone firm. "I want you to raise one finger if your color is green, two if it's yellow, and three if it's red. Understand?"

Charles nodded, his eyes glazed with desire as he complied with my command, raising his middle finger and flipping me off slowly.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his brazenness, his defiance only adding fuel to the fire raging between us. "Green, huh? Let's see how much longer you can take it…"

For the next three hours, my focus split between the 24h Nürburgring and making Charles cum only from the sensation of the vibrating plug. The race demanded my attention, but so did he.

I'd ask him his color, and every time, he'd defiantly raise one finger… Green, and green again. It was like a challenge, a game we were playing in the midst of my virtual competition.

"Still green, huh?" I needled as I watched him ride his fourth orgasm of the evening. But then, something shifted in his demeanor, and I noticed that Charles was teetering on the brink of unconsciousness. I cursed under my breath, fearing that I had let things go too far.

"I need a ten-minute break," I muttered to my sim teammate, my voice tight with worry. Without waiting for a response, I hit pause and hurried over to him.

I reached Charles just in time to see him slump forward, his head lolling to the side as he lost consciousness. Fumbling with the belt, I managed to free his wrists, then quickly removed the boxers from his mouth, tossing them aside.

"Baby, are you ok?" I whispered, pressing my lips to his forehead. His eyelids fluttered, but he remained unresponsive, his breathing shallow and erratic.

"Come on, Schatje, wake up," I urged, shaking him gently in a desperate attempt to rouse him.

A soft groan escaped Charles's lips, his eyelids fluttering open as awareness slowly returned to him. "I’m fine," he murmured, his voice weak and hoarse.

Relief flooded through me as I held him close. "You scared the hell out of me, you know that?"

"You fucked hell into me," Charles rasped, a crooked grin spreading across his face, "so, I think we're even."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt at humor. "You asked for it, Schatje."

"And you delivered, Mon amour, as always," he replied, grinning lazily, his eyes still heavy with post-orgasmic bliss.

I leaned down to press a tender kiss to his lips. "Let me go grab a towel to clean you up."

Returning with a fresh towel, I found Charles still sprawled out on the bed, looking utterly debauched and irresistible. I knelt beside him, gently wiping away the mess I created. As I finished, I reached for the plug, intending to remove it from his ass. But before I could even touch it, Charles's hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength.

"Don't," he whispered.

I paused, looking down at him, his eyes pleading with me to understand. "You've been through enough, Schatje, and you have to race tomorrow."

"I want to keep it in," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "And I want you to make love to me when you’re finished with 24h Nürburgring."

"Schatje, you need to sleep," I said, trying to reason with him. "And we have to race tomorrow."

His grip tightened on my wrist. "I know, but I want you."

"Baby, come on," I sighed. "You've already cum so many times tonight. You need rest."

He shook his head, determination etched on his face. "I don't care about tomorrow. I need you tonight. Please, Max."

I could see the raw need in his eyes, the desperation. I sighed, knowing there was no way I could deny him when he looked at me like that. "Alright," I relented, "but you are going to rest in the meantime."

Charles nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Fine, but promise me you'll wake me up when you're done with the race."

"Promise," I said, leaning down to kiss him softly. "Now get some sleep." ********************************************************************

I pushed open the door to my hotel room, Leo trotting in ahead of me. What a rollercoaster at Imola! Getting third place was a mix of feelings. Standing on that podium with the Tifosi cheering was awesome, but I couldn't shake the disappointment that it was the best I could do.

As I stepped inside, the sight that greeted me was almost comical. Max was completely face-planted on the bed, still dressed with his shoes on. I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Leo barked happily, jumping onto the bed and starting licking Max's ear, trying to wake him up.

I closed the door behind me and slumped against it for a moment, feeling completely drained. My entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck; every muscle ached, especially my ass, still sore from last night's relentless fucking.

Walking over to the bed, I tugged at Max's shoes, pulling them off one by one and tossing them aside. Leo gave up licking and started pawing at Max's face, making little whining noises, and I couldn't help but smile at his determination.

Max groaned and turned his head slightly, his eyes cracking open. "Schatje?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah, it's me, Mon amour," I replied, sitting on the bed. I reached out and brushed my fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.

Max leaned into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he sighed softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, laying down and wrapping my arms around him, pulling him into a gentle hug. Max sighed contentedly, snuggling in my arms.

Leo wasted no time in joining the cuddle fest, wriggling his way between us until he found the perfect spot to curl up. He nestled against Max's chest, his tail wagging happily as he licked his chin, making us both chuckle.

"How's your back feeling?" I asked, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Max winced slightly, shifting to get more comfortable. "Sore, to be honest. But it's nothing I can't handle."

"If you need some relief, I'm more than willing to lend a hand… or two and give you a massage," I offered tightening my arms around him.

He nuzzled closer. "Is that an offer, Schatje?"

I smirked, running my fingers through his hair. "More like fulfilling a request. Didn't you ask for a massage at the post-race press conference?"

Max opened his eyes, giving me a half-hearted glare. "Did I really say that?"

"Oui," I replied, a grin spreading across my face. "Right there on live TV. Guess you can't take it back now."

He groaned, burying his face in my chest. "I was half-dead from exhaustion. Can't be held accountable for that."

I laughed, the sound vibrating through both of us. "Well, too late. You asked for it, and I'm here to deliver."

Leo wagged his tail, clearly enjoying the playful banter. I gently nudged him off the bed before turning back to Max.

"Alright, Mon amour, time to get more comfortable," I declared, as I stood up and began to remove my clothes, stripping down to just my boxers.

Leo scurried off to his bed in the corner, sensing the change in the atmosphere. I glanced over at Max, expecting him to follow suit, but he just lay there on his back, watching me undress with a lazy smile. His eyes roamed over my body, lingering on the lines of my muscles.

"Like what you see?" I teased, sauntering over to him.

Max grinned up at me. "You know I do."

"Why are you still dressed?" I asked, slipping my fingers under the waistband of his shorts, slowly sliding them down his legs. Next came his socks, discarded with little ceremony, followed by his t-shirt, which I lifted off him in one fluid motion.

"Up on the bed and flip over," I instructed.

Huffing, Max obeyed, rolling onto his stomach. I straddled his hips, my hands tracing the contours of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my touch.

As I began to knead his shoulders, working out the knots and tension, I felt him start to melt beneath my touch. His muscles were taut, coiled like springs from the strain of the race, but they relaxed gradually when I applied just the right amount of pressure.

"That feels amazing, Schatje."

Smiling, I leaned down to press a kiss to the nape of his neck before continuing to work my fingers into his flesh. His skin was warm beneath my hands, and I moved lower, tracing the line of his spine with my thumbs, feeling the knots loosen with each pass. Max let out a contented sigh, his body going slack against the mattress.

"You're so damn good at this," he sighed.

I smirked, trailing my fingertips along the curve of his lower back, reveling in the way his body shivered at my touch. I could feel the tension leaving him, replaced by a delicious languor that seemed to seep into his very bones. Each stroke of my hands was a promise of comfort and care, a silent declaration of my love for him.

As he relaxed completely, his breathing slow and even, I knew that in this moment, there was nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, with him.

"Schatje," Max murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the center of his back, feeling the beat of his heart beneath my lips.

"Come lie down with me," he pleaded, his eyes barely open.

I slipped off his lap and climbed into bed beside him. Turning onto his side, Max reached down, grabbed the edge of the covers, and pulled them over us. I snuggled into his embrace as he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close, his hand tracing slow, soothing circles on my back.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against my neck, and his arms tightened around me.

"I love you too, Mon amour," I replied softly, pressing myself against him, our legs tangling together. "I love you too."

[l-estappen]

Miami Heat ☀️

"Do you think she will come?" I asked, sinking into the plush cushions of our suite's sofa. 

Kelly. The mere thought of her made my heart race. I remembered the first time I saw her, all those years ago when I was just a seventeen-year-old kid. She was nine years older, way out of my league, but that didn't stop me from developing a massive crush on her. 

Charles glanced at me from where he stood by the window, the Miami sun casting golden hues across the room, painting his emerald green eyes with golden flecks. "Oui. I'm sure she will come," he declared reassuringly, sauntering closer. 

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the insecurity rising within me. Kelly had always been a fantasy, a distant desire that seemed unattainable. Yet, here we were, on the verge of something exhilarating. But beneath the excitement lurked a gnawing unease. The thought of sharing Charles with another person sent a pang of fear coursing through me, a feeling I couldn't quite shake. 

“What is bothering you, bébé?” he probed, leaning over me to brush a soft kiss against my lips. His gaze felt like a spotlight, revealing every bit of my nervousness. 

How could I explain this to him? It's like standing on a tightrope between excitement and dread. On one hand, I want to be with Kelly. Always have. But on the other hand, seeing her with Charles... “I'm scared," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.  

"About what?"  

I struggled to put my feelings into words, to articulate the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside me. "I want this," I began, the admission heavy on my tongue. "But you... being with her... I don't know how I'll react when I see you with her." 

"I get it, chéri," he said gently as he regarded me, his hand gentle as it caressed my cheek. "And I've already told you, I don’t have to interact with her. I will be perfectly happy just watching." 

I exhaled, feeling selfish and conflicted.  

"Max, mon amour, " Charles cooed, his voice earnest as he leaned in to kiss me again. "If you're not comfortable with this, we don't have to go through with it."  I shook my head, the thought of backing out now filling me with a sense of ridiculousness. "No, I want this. I want her. I just--"  

Charles's index finger pressed against my lips, halting my words mid-sentence. “Do you trust me?” 

"Of course I do" I replied, a hint of confusion tainting my tone. "What kind of question is that?" 

His gaze softened, as he eased himself onto me, running his fingers through my hair. "Then trust me to take the lead on this one.” 

It was a simple request, but one that carried a world of meaning. There was a level of trust that ran deep in our relationship, a trust that made me feel safe and loved enough to bare my soul, even in the face of my vulnerabilities.  "Okay," I affirmed, the word punctuating the air with a blend of determination. 

Our lips met again in a slow, sensual kiss, but then something shifted, as if a switch had been flipped and my hunger took over. My kiss became hungry, desperate, as if I couldn't get enough of him; my hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer; my nails dug into his skin, leaving marks that would linger.  

Charles groaned into my mouth, meeting my passion with his own, pressing his body against mine, feeling me harden behind him. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down my jawline, gripping my hair to tilt my head back. His tongue traced a slow, torturous path from the sensitive spot behind my ear, down the line of my neck. Finding that soft spot in the curve of my shoulder, he sank his teeth in hard.  

"Verdomme!" I choked, jerking my hips against his and digging my nails into his back, urging him on.  

With one hand tangled in my hair and the other gripping my hip, Charles ground his hips against mine, while he sucked and bit my neck, marking me as his.  

"Starting without me?"   

At the sound of her voice, we both lifted our heads to see Kelly standing by the entrance, leaning casually against the door frame. Her silver eyes pierced through the now dimly lit room, locking onto ours with a playful spark. Her dark brown hair flowed down her shoulders in waves, framing a face that could launch a thousand ships.  

"We’re just warming up," Charles replied, his voice low and husky as he drank her in. She was tall-ish, with a body that boasted curves in all the right places, cloaked in tawny skin that seemed to glow and invite sin.  

A smirk played at the corners of her lips as she swaggered further into the room, her hips swaying with purpose, and if we weren’t hard before, we sure as hell would have been now.   

"Just so you know, I did knock... and call. But I guess the two of you were... a little occupied."  

Charles shifted to a sitting position, awkwardly pulling me along with him. My heart started racing as Kelly approached the sofa where we now sat. She wasted no time, settling beside us with a sultry smile that made my pulse quicken and my hands fumble with the hem of my t-shirt.  

"Je suis désolé, linda. We got a little carried away..." Charles apologized, his warm breath tickling my ear as he slipped behind me, pulling me back against his chest. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me in place as he gently pried my hands away from the t-shirt trim. “But I gave you the key card for a reason,” he added, his fingers tracing teasing patterns along the skin above the waistband of my shorts. 

Kelly's eyes flickered down to where Charles' hand was caressing me, and I could practically feel the heat emanating from her gaze. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips before she purred, "Looks like you were having fun."  

Nuzzling his lips against my neck, Charles's fingers trailed lower, inching towards the waistband of my shorts, making me shiver pathetically. “Why don’t you come closer, linda?”  

Kelly's smirk widened as she kicked off her sandals, the thud of them hitting the floor barely audible over the rush of blood in my ears. With a subtle sway of her hips, she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, crawling towards us on the sofa.  

Charles's breath hitched as he saw her close the distance between us, his fingers deftly unbuttoning and unzipping my shorts. My skin tingled as Kelly's presence neared, the scent of her perfume mingling with the musky aroma of Charles's cologne.  

"What's your color, bébé?"  

I blinked, momentarily confused by his question, as Kelly’s nipples poked through the knit of her white dress, distracting me. Then, it clicked. I took a deep breath, attempting to gauge my own desires and comfort level. "Green," I finally replied. 

"Merci, bébé," he murmured, his fingers dancing along the curve of my hip. “Linda, viens ici.”  I watched as Kelly's silver eyes flickered between me and Charles like a predator assessing its prey. Without a word, she closed the distance between us, her body pressing against mine. 

"Kiss him," he commanded softly, nipping at my earlobe. 

The air crackled with electricity, thick with desire as her lips brushed against mine, teasingly light at first. But then she pressed harder, her tongue slipping past my parted lips to danced with mine, exploring every crevice of my mouth, tasting and teasing in a way that made my head spin; and when Charles's hands roamed over to start rubbing my thighs, I squirmed between them, unable to stifle a guttural moan. 

Kelly broke the kiss, her lips trailing down to my jawline, nipping and sucking; Charles's fingers danced closer to my throbbing erection; and my hips arched instinctively, seeking more contact, more friction. I found what I was looking for on the inside of Kelly’s thigh as she straddled one of my legs. Her skin was warm against mine, and I could feel the dampness between her thighs as I rutted against her. 

"Linda," Charles said, in a deep, authoritative tone. "Loose the dress."  

My pulse pounded in my ears as I shifted my gaze from Charles to Kelly. Without breaking eye contact with us, she rose to her knees, reached for the hem of her dress, and slowly pulled it up and over her head, revealing every curve that had haunted my dreams for so long.  

Her nipples were puckered and hard, begging to be touched, and the sight of her white lace thong contrasting starkly against the tawny hue of her body sent a surge of heat straight to my core. 

Charles leaned in to claim my lips, his kiss was urgent, needy. I groaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His grip on me tightened, fingers digging into my thighs with an intensity that bordered on desperation.    

Breaking the kiss, he hugged me tightly, burying his face into the curve of my neck. “Linda, take off his shorts.” 

Kelly wasted no time hooking her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and tugging them down, revealing my throbbing dick. At the same time, Charles grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head, leaving me completely naked between them. 

I swallowed hard, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through my veins. This was new territory, and despite my desire, I couldn't shake off the anxiety creeping back in.  

What if Kelly kissed Charles next? What if he got naked, and she saw his beautiful cock? What if she touched him? Would I be able to handle it? 

Charles, always tuned in to my emotions, leaned in close and murmured in my ear, "Color, Max?" 

Unaware of my internal crisis, Kelly's hands roamed over my bare skin. Instead of excitement, all I felt was a surge of panic. My body tensed, a knot forming in my chest as I struggled to keep it together. 

"Intermittent yellow," I managed to rasp out in response to Charles' question. 

His hot breath tickled my skin as he commanded, "Kelly, linda, please give us a moment." 

Sensing the shift in the mood, Kelly complied immediately, rising to a kneeling position. 

Charles's hands glided over my skin, their movements slowing to a tantalizing drift. "Tout ira bien, mon amour," he breathed against my ear, "tu es en sécurité avec moi.” 

I nodded, feeling the tension ease out of my muscles as he pressed soft kisses along my neck and uttered, "Nous sommes ensemble, et c'est tout ce qui compte."   

His fingers trailed down my chest, tracing the contours of my body with a tenderness that belied the passion simmering beneath the surface. "Je t'aime plus que tout au monde,” he affirmed in a hush.   

As his lips found mine, the world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth moving against mine, his tongue seeking entrance and coaxing mine to dance in a slow, sensual rhythm. I melted into his embrace, the weight of his body behind me grounding me in the moment. 

Charles's touch was like a soothing balm as his hands continued their exploration, trailing lower, skimming over the sensitive skin of my abdomen before sliding even lower. I gasped into his mouth as his fingers grazed over my erection, teasing and testing my responsiveness. "Ça te fait du bien, chéri?" 

"So good," I managed to moan, arching into his hand. 

Charles sensed my need, his touch becoming more purposeful as he stroked me slowly, building the pleasure. "Would you like Kelly to ride you while I watch?" he wondered huskily, his lips brushing against my earlobe. 

I'm the luckiest motherfucker in the world. No matter what crazy shit I've dragged us into, this beautiful, selfish man always has my back. Charles may be as kinky as me, but he's also the most giving person I've ever known. He'd give me the fucking moon if I asked for it, without asking for anything in return. 

"Ik hou van je," I murmured to Charles, my voice tinged with love and a profound sense of gratitude for everything he brings into my life. 

He lifted his head slightly, locking those amazing eyes onto mine and causing my heart to spill out of my chest. "Et je t'aime," he replied simply. 

I glanced over at Kelly, only to see her watching us back in silence with a curious gaze. My eyes trailed over her body, taking in every curve, every inch of her skin, and the sight of her was enough to make my cock twitch in Charles's hand. 

Her tits were perky, nipples hard and begging to be sucked; her waist was slim, accentuating her hips; her skin was smooth, creamy, flawless. Damn, she was beautiful. And I wanted her. 

Charles's hands tightened around my shaft as he too drank in the sight before us. His gaze flickered between Kelly's naked form and mine, hunger burning in his now forest green eyes. 

"Bébé," Charles called, nipping at my ear and drawing my focus back to him. "What's your color?" he demanded, his voice dripping with arrogance as his hand resumed teasing my dick. 

As his grip tightened around my shaft, I let out a guttural groan, my hips instinctively thrusting forward to meet his touch. It was like he knew exactly how to touch me, how to make me squirm and moan with just one hand. "Bébé?" Charles pressed, nipping at my ear. 

"Green," I growled out, feeling every stroke of his hand like a jolt of electricity straight to my balls. 

Charles smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes as his hand moved to his pocket, fishing out a condom. He tossed it to Kelly, who caught it effortlessly. "Put it on him," he instructed. 

Kelly was quick to tear the wrapper open and roll the condom onto my throbbing erection. The sensation of her fingers brushing against my skin set my body ablaze, and when she stroked me to ensure that the condom was in place, I couldn't help but groan. 

My pulse quickened as Charles's forest-green eyes locked onto Kelly's silver ones. There was a moment of silent communication between them that I failed to catch. 

 "Linda, put that pussy on top of his cock, s'il te plaît." 

At Charles's command, Kelly's eyes widened, and all I could do was moan and whimper like some pathetic fucktoy, my hips bucking desperately. In that moment, there was only the raw, primal need burning inside me, driving me forward into the darkness. I craved it, so I switched off my brain, shutting down the part that reminded me of consequences, guilt, or shame. 

***** 

Watching Max writhe in pleasure beneath Kelly and against my chest, vulnerable and exposed, sent a surge of desire coursing through me. It was like witnessing a live, X-rated show, and putain, if it didn't get my blood pumping. 

I leaned in closer, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I asked Kelly, “Are you wet?” 

She nodded, aligning her cunt above Max's hard cock. 

"Let's see," I hummed simply, reaching for his hand. 

Max whimpered as I directed his fingers up Kelly's thigh, our joined hands skimming against his pulsating dick, making him thrust his hips in anticipation. I steered his fingers over Kelly's slick folds, relishing in the hitch of her breath and the tremble of her body as he teased her entrance. 

"How wet is she?" I demanded of Max, watching as Kelly's walls parted for him. With my free hand, I trailed lazy circles over Max's abdomen, feeling his muscles twitch under my touch. 

"Soaking," he whimpered, his hips grinding against the air, begging for more. 

I smirked at Max's eagerness, guiding his hand further and pressing his middle finger against Kelly's slick entrance. 

"Caralho," she gasped, her breath hitching as Max's finger slid into her. 

I watched intently as I maneuvered his hand, his finger slowly moving in and out.  "You like that, don't you, linda?" 

"Muito," she gasped, the wet squelching sound punctuating her words. "More... More please." 

I leaned closer to Max, my breath hot against his ear. "Can I put one of my fingers inside her too?" 

He nodded shuddering, his eyes glazed with lust. 

Without hesitation, I slipped one of my fingers alongside his, immersing myself in the slick warmth of Kelly's arousal. At the same time, the hand that had been caressing Max's abdomen eased down to begin stroking his shaft through the condom. 

Kelly's walls clenched around our fingers as she moaned, her hips rocking against our touch. Max's breath came out in ragged gasps as he thrust his hips up. I could feel the heat radiating from both of them, their desire palpable in the air. 

With practiced movements, I curled my finger inside Kelly, searching for that sweet spot that would make her unravel. She whimpered and bucked against us, her nails digging into Max's skin.   

"Godverdomme," Max groaned, and I teased his erection, applying just enough pressure to keep him on the edge but not enough to push him over. "Please..." 

I chuckled darkly, enjoying in his desperation. "You want to feel her tight cunt around your cock, don't you bébé?" 

Max's eyes widened, pupils dilated as he nodded, his hips still moving in rhythm with my hand.  

"Kelly, linda," I murmured, withdrawing my finger and Max’s from inside her, eliciting a whimper from her. "Ride him, please." 

She shifted, ready to comply, but when her hand went to remove the white lace thong she was still wearing, I commanded, "Leave it on." 

Her eyes narrowed, but she reached down and hooked her fingers into the sides of her thong, dragging it to the side and straddling Max. 

I grabbed his cock, nudging it towards her entrance and pushed him, torturously slowly, inside her. Max's eyes rolled back as Kelly sank down onto him. And I witnessed, spellbound, as his cock disappeared inside her cunt, their moans filling the room. 

"Tell me, bébé, does she feel good?" I asked, my breath hot against his ear. 

Max's jaw clenched as he struggled to form coherent words. "So... fucking... tight," he managed between gritted teeth, his hands gripping Kelly's hips desperately. Just because I could, I bathed his hands away from her hips and intertwined our fingers instead. 

“Caralho,” Kelly growled, her head falling back as she took him in deeper. I could see the strain in her muscles as she accommodated him, her walls clenching around him like a vice. Max's response was a guttural groan, his hips bucking up to meet hers's. 

"Linda, slow down," I instructed, my tone firm but gentle. "We're not in a hurry." 

Max squirm as Kelly's movements became slower... up and down... back and forth... her hips swiveling in a sinful rhythm... Each deliberate motion had Max's cock disappearing inch by agonizing inch inside her tight, wet heat. I watched, riveted, as each downward thrust, had her pussy squeezing him in a way that had him gritting his teeth and whining in ecstasy. Every subtle shift of her hips sent shivers of pleasure racing up his spine, and I could practically feel his desperation radiating off him in waves. 

"Mijn god... baaaby... alsjeblieft," Max gasped out, his words a desperate plea mingled with primal need. "Zo lekker... please... dieper..." His voice trailed off into a guttural moan as Kelly's movements continued to torment him in the most delicious way possible. 

Tightened my grip on his fingers, I leaned in closer, my own cock leaking in my sweatpants as I watched the erotic display unfold before me. "Just hang in there, Mon amour," I murmured softly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. The sweat glistened on Max's skin, making him shine under the dim light of the room, and the smell of sex hung heavy in the air, heightening the raw sensuality of the moment. 

“Meu Deus,” Kelly sighed lost in pleasure. Her body was a goddamn masterpiece, her tits were fucking perfection, bouncing in rhythm with every grind down onto Max's cock. Her waist was slim, perfect for wrapping my hands around, and her hips, Mon Dieu, they were made for fucking.  

Max's face was a mask of pleasure, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he surrendered himself to Kelly's rhythm. Putain, watching him like this, I couldn't hold back anymore. Disengaging my fingers from his, I grabbed Kelly by the hips, setting the rhythm myself. Tower and sink, side to side, twisting her hips, all while cranking up the speed. 

Max's breath hitched, his muscles tensing against me as I felt the telltale tightening of his balls. With a subtle shift in rhythm, I slowed my movements on Kelly hips, drawing out the pleasure and denying him that release he so desperately craved. 

“Baaaby,” he cried out loudly. "Alsjeblieft. Please, I need to come." 

I smirked, relishing in his desperation. "Nog niet, bébé," I growled, my grip tightening on Kelly's hips. 

Max's whimpers grew louder, his body writhing beneath us as he begged, "Please, baby, I can't take it anymore. Ik moet komen, alsjeblieft!" 

Merde, the sight of Max on the edge, begging for release, was pure ecstasy. But his pleas only fueled my desire to test his limits. 

"Shh, bébé, shh," I cooed, my voice soothing. "You're gonna be a good boy for me, aren't you?" 

Max's eyes widened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he nodded frantically. 

"That's it," I murmured, my lips brushing against his ear as I started to bounce Kelly on his cock again. "What’s your color, chéri?" 

He whimpered, “Groen.” 

My fingers dug into Kelly's hips as I set the pace, thrusting her onto Max's cock. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mixing with Max's desperate moans and Kelly's low, guttural groans. 

Kelly's body quivered with anticipation, her nails digging into Max's chest as she rode him. I could feel the tension building in her, the way her walls clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth. She was close, Max was closer, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was the one orchestrating their pleasure. 

Kelly's breath faltered as she started to chase her own release. "Tão gostoso," she mewled, "He feels so good, Charles." 

“I know, linda,” I growled, my grip tightening on her hips, “I know.” 

I increased the pace, driving Kelly down onto Max's cock with relentless force, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge but never close enough to tip them over. 

"Please, baaaby," Max begged, his voice a hoarse plea. I eyed him, wild and desperate, a man teetering on the edge of blissful insanity. His dirty blonde hair was tousled, damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead in unruly clumps. His usually piercing blue eyes, now dark with need, were half-lidded, struggling to stay open against the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over him. His porcelain skin was tinged with a rosy hue, spreading across his chest and creeping up his neck, a telltale sign of his overwhelming state. 

"Kelly, linda," I breathed out, "Keep riding him until you’re both cum." 

Her lips curled into a wicked grin as she started moving her hips with renewed vigor. I watched with a predatory gaze as she ground down onto Max's cock, each movement pushing him closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. 

I reached out and grabbed Max's hands again, intertwining our fingers as if to anchor him in the sea of pleasure that threatened to engulf him. With a firm grip, I squeezed his fingers, urging his focus back to me. 

Max's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with mine in a moment of raw, primal connection.  

And then it happened.  

“Chaaarleeees,” roared from his throat, his body convulsing against mine, as he reached the pinnacle of pleasure. I felt his release wash over him in hot, pulsating waves, his cock throbbing inside Kelly as he started to empty himself into the condom. 

“Puta que pariu,” Kelly grinded out as she started to ride her orgasm. Her body trembled with the force of it, her pussy clenching and milking every last drop of pleasure out of Max's cock. But even as she shuddered and moaned, Max just kept coming.  

I watched, half in awe and half in disbelief, as Max's continued to whimper and spasm, his hips bucking and thrusting, his cock still hard and ready despite the torrent of cum he was pumping out. And goddamn if it wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever seen. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Max's orgasm began to ebb, his body collapsing against mine in a sweaty heap. He was spent, utterly and completely drained, but a satisfied smile stretched across his face before he passed out. 

Kelly, still riding out her climax, shifted her weight onto her hands to avoid crushing Max. Breathing heavily, she looked at me, concern etched on her face. "Is he okay?" 

"Oui, he's fine," I replied, reaching over to brush a lock of hair away from Max's forehead. "He just needs a moment." 

Kelly nodded, her breathing gradually steadying as she eased herself off him, allowing Max's engorged cock to slide out of her pussy, glistening with her juices. Once she was clear, she collapsed onto the sofa beside us, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "That was intense." 

"That's one way to put it," I chuckled, running my fingers through Max's hair. 

Kelly smirked, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "Mind if I freshen up a bit?" 

I shook my head. "Make yourself at home. There's a shower in the ensuite." 

“Thank you, gostoso.” 

As Kelly made her way to the bathroom, I turned my attention back to the snoozing Max. 

"Mon amour," I whispered, my lips brushing against his temple. "Are you with me?" 

He stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open as he gradually returned to consciousness. "Mhmm," he mumbled, his voice heavy with post-orgasmic bliss. "Just need a minute." 

Feeling Max cuddle up against me, I shifted slightly, adjusting to accommodate him more comfortably. His proximity made it impossible to ignore the hardness pressing against his back. 

"Did you... come?" Max's voice was soft, almost hesitant. 

I shook my head against his temple, my lips brushing against his skin. "No, but it's all good," I reassured him, hugging him tightly. "Today was not about me." 

Max let out a contented sigh, nuzzling closer to me. "Thank you, Schatje," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. 

"You don't need to thank me, Mon coeur," I whispered softly. "I'd do anything to make you happy." 

Max shifted slightly, craning his neck to look up at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his. "You make me happy, Charles. More than anything, or anyone."