EMM Superbike: Castelli in the lead, Brendlmeyer catching up
With a sensational first and second place in the last two races, Yannik Brendlmeyer was able to make up valuable points on Sergio Castelli. After 6 of 8 races, the newcomer from Bavaria is now only 15 points behind the Italian and has every chance of securing the title if he can finish ahead of his rival in the remaining two races. At the start of the season, hardly anyone would have bet on the German rookie, but his sheer unbridled drive to the top, risky but successful driving maneuvers, and the luck of having been spared technical failures so far have made him the fiercest competitor of Castelli, who has been leading since the start of the season. But even if Brendlmeyer doesn't manage to overtake the Italian and finish the season in the top 3, it would still be the most successful first season ever for one of the youngest riders in the EMM premier class! However, with the prospect of such success comes increased pressure to perform. Will the Bavarian hold his nerve and seize his opportunities?
(MOTOSPORT issue 20/24)
At the end of a half-day training session on the weekend between two championship races, Yannik climbed off his BMW M1000RR, somewhat exhausted, and handed the bike over to the capable hands of his pit crew. With casual routine, he shook hands with the guys and then took off his gloves and helmet as he strolled toward the locker room. Despite his great success in the last two races, he and his team of mechanics and technicians were working flat out to further improve the engine and chassis settings and find the ideal setup for the next race. This meant additional, intensive training and testing sessions between races with ambitious targets in terms of lap times, because there is no room for complacency at the top. The team had tasted success and knew that with more good results in the remaining races, Yannik could close the gap on Castelli and compete for the overall victory of the season.
Tom was sitting in a small cubicle near the pit, evaluating technical data from the test laps. As Yannik strolled past his open door, Tom noticed the young racer. “Hey, champ!” he called out, whereupon the handsome young man turned around and approached with a charming smile on his lips. Since his victory in the penultimate race, this had become his new nickname within the team. The term “rookie,” which always implied a driver's inexperience in a new racing class, had become increasingly rare since then. In the meantime, the roles between the two drivers on the team had also been clearly defined: contrary to all predictions both inside and outside the team, Pabst had been effectively demoted to water carrier, driving hopelessly behind Brendlmeyer, who was getting faster and faster from race to race. Although the two drivers avoided each other as much as possible and spoke only when absolutely necessary, the tension between them was palpable. If looks could kill, the young Bavarian would have long since fallen victim to his colleague.
After Yannik entered the small cubicle, he locked the door behind him. With a mischievous smile, he headed toward the head of the mechanic team, who was sitting in a swivel chair facing him, placed his helmet and gloves on the small table, and swung his slim legs, clad in the tight-fitting leather of his racing suit, over the thighs of the seated man. “Well, boss? Everything okay? How did you like my last lap?” he grinned cheekily as he settled down on Tom's lap. “Very good, kid, very good!” Tom praised him, returning the grin, and already the mechanic's paws began to devour the young guy's magnificent body, clad in leather, with his hands. They rubbed emphatically over the smooth leather of the skin-tight suit. They moaned as the mechanic felt the firm body through the one-piece suit and Yannik felt the strong hands and warm breath of the bearded guy caressing his face. A shiver of excitement tingled down the boy's back as he lolled lasciviously on the stud's thighs. Accompanied by a dull grunt, one of Tom's paws slid through his crotch from behind and began to massage his balls and cock through the soft leather from below. “Ohh, yes, Daddy!” Yannik gasped, feeling his hard-on already pressing against the tightness of the leather from inside. As usual, he became a greedy little fuck toy in the hands of the horny stud. As lascivious as he was provocative, the young champion pressed himself against the hard upper body of his chief mechanic and rubbed his leather-covered cock against the bulge in the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck!” Tom exclaimed, watching with fascination as the athlete rubbed himself against him in the sexy leather outfit that shimmered slightly in the twilight, which, combined with the animalistic smell of sweat, warm leather, and gasoline, also made his cock swell.
The mechanic quickly unbuttoned his pants to reveal the white briefs, which were already bulging from his hard cock and showing wet spots. Yannik snuggled up close to the beefy body and teasingly stuck out his tongue as he boldly reached into the briefs to knead the bulge. “You dirty boy!” Tom whispered, a lustful smile playing around his lips. Yannik then grabbed one of the two paws that was still working on his balls from behind through his open thighs and pushed it up to the curve of his seductive ass, over which the smooth leather stretched. “Yes, Daddy, I'm your dirty little boy! I know you can't resist me because my perfect ass makes you so insanely horny! Insanely! ... Horny! ... To! ... Fuck! ... Me!” the boy whispered in bursts, moaning particularly lasciviously at the last word and provocatively wiggling his rock-hard ass. The seasoned guy with the shaggy red-blond full beard and shaved head was visibly struggling to maintain his composure, so horny was he for the boy shamelessly offering himself to him. Since their first fuck in Yannik's mobile accommodation, it had become a regular ritual for the race car driver to get thoroughly nailed by the burly chief mechanic after returning from the track.
Time and again, his tight leather suit, which stretched tightly over his athletic body, played an important role, the sight of which was now enough to set Tom's pants on fire. “Ohaah, yes! Oh, Tom!” Yannik moaned as the mechanic's two paws reached for his firm buttocks and finally slapped loudly on his ass cheeks.
“Ahhhh, yes! Harder!” Yannik energetically demanded more slaps, each of which caused a brief flicker of pain before it was quickly replaced by an exciting tingling sensation, driving the masochistic young racer to the brink of orgasm, which soaked the thin fabric of his tight jockstrap. With continuous moaning and grunting, they drove each other closer and closer to climax. Yannik had now freed Tom's cock from his briefs and was busily jerking off the fat piston with his left hand, while his right hand had wandered deeper to his balls, caressing them and weighing them in his hand. “Fuck!” Tom gasped again and threw his head back with his eyes closed, enjoying the professional treatment of his manhood. He returned the favor by slapping Yannik's perfect ass cheeks even harder and at shorter intervals, greedily running his hand along the sexy curves of his tight ass in between.
“You're driving me crazy,” Tom whispered and pinched the little champ's butt cheeks through the leather, who squealed in surprise, followed by a soft moan. "Yes, Daddy, oh yes! Give it to me! Pinch my hot ass! And spank it! Spank it hard!...
Ahhhh!" Yannik gasped with pain-distorted ecstasy as Tom's paw audibly slapped the leather stretched over his plump buttocks and the pain shot through the athlete's body. The burly mechanic's cock dripped as he watched the horny little slut enjoy the painful treatment. “Oh baby, you're making me so hot! You extremely dirty little fruit!” grinned the bearded guy, bringing his paw down on the ass again while continuing to massage the racer's crotch with his other hand. “Mhhmmm, yeah...” Yannik grunted with a silly grin, slowly feeling the tingling sensation traveling through his balls and cock shaft up to the wet fabric of his jockstrap, announcing his imminent orgasm. His hard cock pressed against the inside of the tight leather crotch. Tom's cock now rubbed against the wonderfully smooth and supple leather from the outside, pressing against the fat bulge in the champion's crotch and soaking the suit with his slimy precum. The friction of the smooth leather on his glans drove the mechanic crazy, and he too could already feel the orgasm approaching rapidly.
With a loud groan, he finally ejaculated and discharged the white slime onto the athlete's cock bulge and stomach. Further aroused by the sight of Tom's horny expression as he came, Yannik climaxed just a few moments later. With a throaty moan, he shot his load into the jockstrap pouch, which was already soaked with precum. “You extremely dirty little fruit,” grinned the mechanic as he heard a soft smacking sound while kneading the racer's crotch again. Apparently, some of the semen had seeped through the damp fabric of the jockstrap onto the inside of the leather suit. A realization that made both of them moan softly again. “You like dirty little things,” Yannik then stated with a conspiratorial grin, which was returned by Tom, and the race car driver rose gracefully like a big cat from his thighs. With his helmet and gloves on, he left the cubicle and Tom returned to his technical diagrams.
One weekend later
The date for the seventh and penultimate race of the season was approaching, and two weeks before it, the management of the Apex Racing Team scheduled a final training session to iron out any last technical and driving issues and send the drivers, especially Yannik, into the last two races in ideal condition. These were held just one week apart and would decide the season. Yannik was in high spirits on the track and felt like a fish in water as he completed lap after lap with somnambulistic confidence. He knew the M1000RR inside out, aware of its strengths and marginal weaknesses. Its steering response, the grip of the chassis setup, the power delivery of the engine, and the careful intervention of the electronics gave him the confidence he needed in the bike's performance to get the most out of it. Of course, he also lost a few fractions of a second on the track from time to time or fell slightly short of his potential, but his lap times were still consistently at a much better level than those of his rival Marcel Pabst. Although rival was perhaps too strong a word, because in reality Yannik had already outclassed him and they were no longer on equal footing.
Understandably, this did not contribute to Marcel's good mood, as he had already had to bury his dream of finally being able to compete at the top at the start of the season. His situation was too hopeless and the performance differences between him and the top riders, including Brendlmeyer, were too clear.
After finishing among the top ten drivers in the first half of the season, Pabst had consistently lost ground and, in the sixth race of all, had achieved his worst result to date with 14th place, while Yannik stood on the podium for the fourth time overall in second place. He had long felt the stares of his teammates and the mechanics crew behind him, who were increasingly not taking him seriously and were dancing around the shooting star. Secretly, he knew that little Brendlmeyer was a huge talent and ultimately did an excellent job. But raging jealousy mixed with self-pity and angry despair prevented him from accepting his unexpected new team role as his assistant. After all, that wasn't why he had entered the season, and Brendlmeyer was still practically a child! But racing is relentless, and the clock doesn't care about age, experience, or wounded egos when it decides who is in front and who is behind, who is the lead driver and who is just the co-driver.
Apex Racing had chosen a small racetrack in Spain for the test and had traveled there with only a small crew. It consisted solely of the mechanics and technicians, as well as the two drivers. There were no hotels available in the rural area surrounding the racetrack, and the racers' spacious, fully equipped luxury motorhomes were already at the location of the next race in the championship. Therefore, they had taken up quarters in the spartan accommodations of the pit building, and everyone was living in a smaller space than usual. Each person had only a small room and had to share the bathroom and showers with their teammates. Yannik had just taken off his racing suit and left his room to go to the nearby communal shower to wash off the sweat and dust from the race track. He entered the small changing room in front of the showers wearing nothing but his flip-flops, a large towel, fresh white CK briefs, and a bottle of expensive shower gel. He slipped out of his clammy underpants, which he had worn under his racing suit, and entered the shower room, which was separated from the changing room by a curtain. Small puddles stood on the slightly sloping floor, which was covered with white mosaic tiles. The room was rectangular with four shower heads on each long side and the entrance on the short side.
Yannik chose one of the right-hand shower stalls, and shortly afterwards, hot water poured over his toned athletic body. For several minutes, he enjoyed the warmth and freshness of the water raining down from the shower head with his eyes closed. Steam began to spread, slightly obscuring his vision. Absent-mindedly, the race car driver stroked the grooves of his hard six-pack, the curves of his two chest muscles, and then played with his sensitive nipples, which stood out pointedly and whose touch provoked a soft moan from Yannik's mouth, which, however, was completely drowned out by the splashing and rushing of the water. His circumcised cock was already stirring and stood half-hard as he took it in his right hand and began to gently jerk it off. With his eyes closed and moaning with pleasure, the racer leaned his back against the tiled wall and pleasured his cock, which was rising to its full size, with very slow pumping movements. Meanwhile, the hot water continued to pour down on him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Yannik noticed a movement in the curtain and took his hands off his cock. He turned slightly toward the wall so that his back was facing the entrance and his erection was hidden. Glancing over his shoulder, the race car driver was pleased to see that it was Tom who had entered the room and disturbed him while he was showering. Although, “disturb” was actually the wrong word, Yannik thought to himself and grinned lustfully as he already imagined how much hotter the shower could get in a moment. But they had to be careful that none of their other teammates caught them in the act. Even though he was less afraid of being outed as gay in front of the team, having sex in a shower shared by several colleagues would probably be considered quite brazen and simply inappropriate. Although rarely shy about brazen actions, Yannik nevertheless respected certain basic rules of coexistence with his team and tried to behave professionally at work. Well, as professionally as possible...
A brief grin flitted across Tom's bearded face when he recognized the young star of their team through the mist of water. They nodded to each other and the mechanic took a place directly to the left of the race car driver. Silently, each enjoyed the shower on his own. While the burly guy next door remained under the stream of water, letting the hot water massage his broad, tattooed shoulders, Yannik turned off his shower and began to soap himself. He had long since turned his back to the wall again and was presenting his stiff, bobbing cock completely unabashedly. He was curious to see what would happen first: sex with Tom or the arrival of more guests, which would ruin any chance of a particularly hot shower session.
The race car driver thoroughly soaped himself with the eucalyptus-scented shower gel, leaving no part of his hairless athletic body untouched, spreading the rich lather with massaging, circular movements over his muscular arms, chest, six-pack abs, powerful thighs, and finally his feet. His cock, which had become somewhat flaccid in the meantime, immediately regained its hardness when Yannik began to clean it and slid along its long shaft. He relished polishing the exposed glans and then moved along the underside of the penis to his testicles, which he kneaded gently and slid through his fingers while soaping them. Without a thought for Tom, he reached between his legs and let his fingers disappear into his ass crack to clean his hole.
Meanwhile, the mechanic watched with growing excitement as the young man next to him spread the shower gel over his tanned, athletic, slim, muscular body and finally began to finger himself shamelessly in front of him. He began to jerk off his own cock, which was already swollen to its full size, and finally approached Yannik when the shower turned off. “Can I help?” Tom growled in his deep voice, and the race car driver handed him the bottle of shampoo without comment. The mechanic then began to soap the young guy's hard-to-reach back and shoulder areas of his toned body, admiring the velvety soft skin and hard muscles he could feel under his hands. His hard-on hung heavily between his legs and almost touched the young champ's firm buttocks. He was close to simply sliding his thick cock between those two perfect hemispheres and penetrating the cunt of this horny little slut, nailing her right here and now and inseminating her.
Yannik pressed his soapy back against the mechanic's hairy body, feeling his hot, hard cock rubbing against his ass cheek and the bear's greedy paws caressing and kneading his balls. “Oh, yes, Daddy!” the little champ breathed in a longing voice. Tom just grunted and finally turned Yannik around so that they were facing each other. Yannik took some more shower gel and began to lather the tattooed and heavily hairy upper body of his mechanic, who enjoyed the massage with his eyes closed and occasional soft moans. After washing the foam off their bodies, Yannik began kissing and licking the burly guy's nipples, working his way down through the fur with his nose and tongue to the spherical belly and taking the plump piston in his hand to jerk it off. Tom did the same with the race car driver's cock. Pure lust was in their eyes as they looked at each other while rubbing each other's cocks.
Yannik had already finished his training three quarters of an hour ago when Marcel rolled into the pit for the last time that day. He barked irritably at the mechanic crew, who were allegedly unable to translate his input into profitable technical settings. After a brief but heated exchange with the indignant chief mechanic, Marcel left the pit in a rage and stomped off to his room, which was in the same hallway as Yannik and Tom's. There he took off his racing suit, helmet, and gloves, and finally headed for the showers. The sound of splashing water and the drawn curtain to the shower room told him that he would not be alone. Marcel carefully climbed the two small wooden steps to the shower room, pushed the shower curtain aside slightly, and opened his eyes wide in surprise when he saw the scene unfolding before him: Tom stood slightly turned away from him, moaning as he dug his hand into the wet, curly hair of Brendlmeyer, who was kneeling on the wet floor in front of the bearded guy, eagerly moving his head back and forth and giving him a sloppy blowjob. Drool ran from the corners of his mouth.
Marcel stared in disbelief, unable to look away for a moment. But then he stepped back and closed the curtain again. With an audible clearing of his throat and the loudest possible clattering of his flip-flops on the floor, he tried to draw attention to his presence. When he went back to the shower curtain shortly afterwards and pushed it aside, Tom and Yannik acted innocent and showered side by side, ostensibly taking no notice of each other. When Brendlmeyer saw his rival, his gaze darkened. Without another word, he took his shower gel and disappeared in the direction of the changing room. Yannik's technical director followed a few seconds later. Disgusted, Marcel gave the spot where the two had just been showering and who knows what else a wide berth and stood under one of the showers on the opposite side. After a minute under the hot water, a grim smile stole across the race car driver's bad-tempered face.
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