80. READY TO BEGIN

/Max/

“- Probably, yes, but I agree with what you were saying before. I don't intend to live our relationship solely within the confines of circuits. I was ready for a serious fight, but I'm glad I can skip that part. I didn't imagine you were going as crazy as me.
That's the last thing we say to each other, then he sticks his tongue in my mouth and takes off my jacket, deigns to take off my scarf and then starts to attach my pants, which he simply opens. After that, all I hear is the thud I make when he turns me around and slams me against the closet.
The not-so-sweet and especially not-so-tender Charles pulls down from behind what I dare wear, just enough to be able to reach my hole, which he first gets with his fingers and shortly after with his glorious, already hard cock.
His cock is very respectable, although not huge, luckily for me. I think it's the right size to feel pleasure without being torn apart and suffering like a dog.
Daniel was better endowed, and at first it wasn't entirely pleasant, but then luckily I got used to it, although preparation is also important.
Charles's cock is simply perfect, both in size and because he knows how to use it so well, and that's what matters.
My little domineering devil fucks me so well in so many ways, he doesn't even give me a handjob or a blowjob, no hugs, we've barely kissed.
He's already inside me, pounding me with increasing force, and I can't help but go towards him with thrusts that get harder and harder.
I love like crazy this raw, essential, even vulgar way. It literally drives me crazy to the point that I push myself against him, we moan together and everything grows, especially our cocks and the pleasure. A pleasure that splashes on the closet in front of me.
I realize I rolled my eyes back with my tongue hanging out. The pleasure was enormous and sudden, so immediately acute that I don't even know what I did.
I regain my composure and recover as he wraps his arms around me from behind and his tongue returns to mine, which felt lonely.
I still can't think or understand.
I was so out of my mind I couldn't resist at the thought of staying away from him for who knows how long. I didn't dare talk to him or ask for an audience, or tell him I wanted to reconsider our fucking plans, because I was afraid he'd bitterly dump me, reminding me we shouldn't change our lives; so I just did whatever the fuck I wanted and came. I didn't think about it much, I acted completely on impulse. I coordinated with Joris, who left me his number just in case. I can't think of anything more urgent than this.
I told Kelly and everyone I needed a few days alone; they all know me well enough to know that sometimes they just have to leave me alone if they don't want me to become unbearable.
But above all, what I wasn't expecting was Charles and the speech he gave me right before I knocked on his door. It was so absurd that for a moment I just wanted to walk in and kick him in the balls.
He was like that and didn't say anything to me, he made me go on a shitty vacation just because it was the right thing to do, when in fact he just wanted to see me.
But then he made me laugh: it's absurd, we wanted the same thing, we felt the same. With him, it was never a given, given how different we've always been.
When I realized this, I felt so happy, so damn happy, that I put everything aside. And then being sexually assaulted like that, didn't leave me much of a choice. I could only accept his cock inside me! What a shame, I had to sacrifice myself!
Charles chuckles as he kisses me, and from there we begin a ridiculous, stupid, surreal argument that leads us doing wrestling on the bed, with me trying to bite his ass and him throwing me legs in the air on the floor.
How dare he say he decides who fucks who?
It's just a coincidence that things have been this way so far, nothing more.
It's because I like being fucked by him too, but it's not like he's the one who granted it to me, and he's the one who decides when he'll do it and when I'll do it.
Who the fuck does he think he is, my King?
King of my ass!
You fucking idiot!
But I'm about to start insulting him again and arguing with him, when first he laughs kneeling on the bed, towering over me while I'm down like an idiot, and then—while I can also realize how fucking beautiful he is laughing like this and especially while he's losing his mind so much to just being himself more than ever—he jumps on me like a schizophrenic, hugging me and whispering something super sweet and romantic about being himself and happy only with me. Shit, it happened again. I was thinking it and he beat me to it.
We're finally truly in sync. It's never really happened before, we've always been at odds with each other, often opposites just because yes. I don't know, it's so beautiful and shocking to finally be in sync with him.
It's so much that I get emotional like an idiot and I have to play it down. I don't do it on purpose: my mouth speaks as usual out of my control, and I joke pointing out that he doesn't have to thank me for—to quote him—"forcing myself into his life overbearingly," because technically he was the one who did it to me, twice, or three counting the one we don't remember.
He pouted because I was joking while he said something beautiful and romantic to me, and I know he's right, I know, but I can only hug him tightly and close my eyes while he's on top of me. I need a moment to process this wonderful thing between us.
I know he's right: I can't always face all the things that hit me too much as if they were nothing special, so as not to be overwhelmed. Nothing happens if I let myself go with the beautiful things I experience, I guess I have to get used to it. I won a world championship and I got together with the boy of my dreams.
Life, finally, is beautiful.
I'm not used to it, that's the point, and since there's always a screw-up around the corner in my life, it's as if I've always tried to protect myself by downplaying everything I've experienced, no matter what it was. It's as if, in a certain way, I'm covering my back.
For better or for worse.
For better, so as not to get too caught up in it; for worse, so as not to get too hurt, so in case it ends it's not such a big deal, while in the other sense, well, it hasn't done much to me.
It's a twisted thought that I can't explain to him in a few words and I don't even know if I should.
After grabbing him and brutally pulling him down with me, the pounding he gives me with his lean but trained body on top of me, makes me see stars, and not in the nice way like before.
Anyway, I move to the floor holding him astride me, then, when we're a little more comfortable than before, I cup his face in my hands. Charles stays on top of me and looks at me with that tender, childish pout of his, like an offended prince.
My adorable, spoiled prince.
All right, I don't want to talk about this. Always out of fear that I'll get some kind of shit situation that I won't be able to handle.
But it's Charles and we're together. I think it's right to make an effort to make him understand how much I care. If it's always been difficult for me to understand him because he never said anything to me, I don't think it's easy for him to understand me.
- I'm not good at these things, but you're the first thing I personally wanted with all my heart, without following the will and constraints of others around me.
My father and F1. I've never been free to truly choose anything. I like F1 and I'm happy to race and win, and I certainly don't want to stop until I've won everything I can, but it was never my choice. But he was. Charles, yes, he was. He was my choice, my will, my desire.
And damn it. I got it. I got there. He's here in my arms, sitting on top of me, clinging to my body like a tender, adorable monkey. 
- And I'm so happy I fought to get to you. Now that I've got you, I'll never let you go.
Charles's green eyes, so close to mine, shine with emotion that I can clearly see even in this semi-darkness, in this room with only one light above the bed.
He's moved by what I've said and hugs me around my neck while I wrap my arms around his waist. We hold each other tightly, both equally moved. He doesn't say anything, he hides his face against me, just as I do. Back in sync. Back in need of the same thing, searching for the same thing, trying to find it.
I don't know how I did it, stubbornness, maybe. Because I'm a predator, like the animal that has always represented me. The lion. Once I've set my sights on my prey, I won't let go until I've bitten it. Now you're in my jaws, and I won't let you go. It was damn hard to get to you, you damned wonderful little bastard, but know that I won't give up now, and I don't give a shit if it's even harder now that we're actually together. I won't let go of you easily.
You're my first real dream, and you're here in my arms. You're exactly where I've always wanted you. I'll never let you go again. Ever.
I hold you tighter, both my arms and my eyes. Partly to stifle this emotion that's trying to escape from my eyes. It's absurd what's happening to me in the space of a few months.
I won a world championship by beating Sir Lewis Hamilton. I don't know how I did it, with tenacity, I suppose. Just like I reached Charles, the second incredible thing that happened to me this year.
At a certain point, I didn't even believe it anymore.
- You know, I chased you so much I never thought it would happen. - I murmur against his neck, giving voice to this thought.
I feel him smile as if he were thinking the same thing; it wouldn't surprise me. Once we surrender to each other, it turns out we're fucking similar in more ways than we thought, not just in our being outside the norms of society.
We're two demons, we thought that was what brought us together, but in reality it's so much more, and I'm so happy about it.
I'm not alone, I'm not unique, I'm not a rare and isolated case.
He's here with me because he's like me in so many ways. I really want to find out what they are and how many.
- It's true, that's why when we actually got together, we were caught off guard and didn't know how to behave. We clung to what we thought was right and best...
This makes me laugh and I pull away from his warm, comfortable neck to look at him. We still sit on the floor, one on top of the other, entwined and close together, but I have to look at him. My expression is hilarious and incredulous, and he doesn't understand what's making me laugh so much.
- You were the one who thought it was right and better this way. Without revising our previous plans so as not to change anything and not lose control. Because we're not the official couple, we're the lovers, the ones who are together in secret.
I repeat without hesitation the bullshit he told me and that I allowed him to impose on me. In fact he stares at me in disbelief and shock and raises a finger in my face with authority.
- hEy, but you agreed! We didn't argue about that, remember? If you weren't okay with it, you definitely would have told me, like you always did about everything!
Hit and sunk; he's right about that, and I roll my eyes in a huff. I don't like to give in to him, but I actually made him do it. I take his finger and squeeze it in my hand, bringing it to my lips and kissing it. Charles calms down and relaxes so much so that while I kiss his finger, he rests his forehead on mine, adding one last piece to his philosophical reflection, probably sweeter and more romantic than I am.
But no, actually I am. I'm definitely sweeter and more romantic and sentimental than he is, but I can't express it for fear of the shit around the corner. While he, unlike me, is perhaps less sweet and sentimental than I am, he manages to express it better, if he chooses to. Almost as if he's afraid that if he doesn't express it in words, if he doesn't thoroughly eviscerate it, he won't be able to show it.
As if he had to make it very clear for fear I'd think he didn't feel anything.
But that's okay, everyone has their own way of experiencing themselves. The important thing is to do it.
- We unconsciously took the time to understand and realize that we're truly together now. We had to figure out what it really meant because we hadn't really realized it. Now we're ready to start for real.
I smile goofily without taking my eyes off his, which are wonderful in this suffocating proximity. It almost wouldn't be necessary to speak, but he slips his finger from my hand to make me answer, because my man wants to hear it from me.
So I indulge him because I want to make him happy. That's all I want.
- I couldn't have said it better. We're finally on the same wavelength. We're in sync, thinking and wanting the same things.
I allow myself this deep impulse which makes him smile in return. We stare at each other in this closeness for a while longer, until we kiss again. Our lips meet and delicately intertwine. Let's not ruin everything by talking about feelings, it's early, but we know it won't be just a quick couple of fucks. We both know we've waited so long for this, because it would have been a waste to limit ourselves to just a couple of fucks.
This was our dimension, now we're perfect, and all that's left is to abandon ourselves to each other. Simply perfect together.
Ready to begin. 

The ecstasy of us lying together, embraced in bed, in the dim light of this charming mountain hotel room, lasts a while longer. Just enough time to tell him how I managed to reach him using Joris, who, as if evoked by our conversation, calls Charles out of the blue. Only as soon as the phone vibrates and he reads his name, does he realize the true meaning of that call and jumps up in panic, sitting upright on the bed.
He answers after a series of curses in French; the two of them are obviously speaking in their native language, which has become a fetish of mine, so instead of hastily preparing myself by imagining what he's saying to him, I stay here, lying there, listening to him and his wonderful, accentuated French r, and the gay panic that is particularly evident at this moment. Far from being a top, he seems more of a bottom than a woman right now, but we'll have time to play with roles in bed.
It's just that I love spoiling him and being pampered by him. When he's so arrogant and full of desire to win—in our case, to win me and my ass—I can't help but enjoy it immensely.
I've never really been desired for who I was, only for what I represented. A wealthy man, an F1 driver, a star. And Daniel liked me for what was underneath.
But to Charles, I'm a trophy just as I am, and I love it like crazy; I'm not insulted, mocked, denigrated, or pushed around. I'm just fucking desired.
While I lose myself in this mental and spiritual pleasure, he casts his haunted gaze on me; he's still talking to his guardian angel, and realizing that I'm still lying there comfortably and that I don't dare get ready and dash away, his voice rises several notches before he clearly addresses me in English.
- What the hell are you still doing there like that? Get up and evaporate, Charlotte's coming, damn it! -
And that's all the romance gone. Not that it bothers me much, since I burst out laughing with impunity, without the slightest intention of obeying him. I know I have to, but it's stronger than me, I have absolutely to break his balls.
- Laugh! - he replies to Joris, probably asking what I'm doing. He says it in French, but I understand. He says it as if he doesn't really believe it, even though he sees me. How dare I, how the hell dare I laugh in his face instead of obeying?
But it's not a question he deigns to ask me, because he kicks me off the bed with a force that shows the training on the glacier.
After he throws me down, knocking my knees, Charles howls as if he's been beaten himself, and I turn to look at him, remaining on all fours on the floor.
The idiot of my heart is massaging his thighs, which I think are causing him a lot of pain, and I decide not to push it too far. He wants to act like a superman, but he's actually human. He must be in considerable pain, and instead of going slowly, he jumped on me, fucking me with such intensity that it actually looked like he'd rested, but I knew he'd climbed up on the mountain. He also filled me with photos and videos. Another boyfriend thing that melted me. He's never done it so much, an occasional photo, usually provocative of him half naked.
- Will you move that she's about to come? Jo doesn't know how to hold her back!
Charles ends the conversation and yells at me directly, jumping out of bed and grabbing the things I took off, throwing them at me. He bends over and squeals at the pain he feels.
- How come you were moaning and fucking me so hard before, like you hadn't climbed any mountains? - I ask provocatively as I resign myself to putting on my boots, which have narrowly avoided my head. The jacket doesn't avoid me, it hits me full-on.
- Because it was the adrenaline of seeing you here, now that it's gone and I've relaxed, I can see the entire Milky Way in pain! If you just go on and hurried, I wouldn't have to suffer! It's clear you don't care much about me, you just cared about my cock fucking you!
Charles is completely gone, he's launched at 300 km/h towards a finish line he intends to pass over me, and in these situations he becomes pure evil. With extreme acidity, he says things I know he doesn't mean and that make me laugh, causing him even more evil in return. Evil that he vomits on me pulling my cap down over my eyes and choking me with my scarf, which makes me laugh and cough at the same time.
- How mean are you! And where am I supposed to go, excuse me? I ran here for you, running away from my commitments, and for that I'll get yet another scolding!
- I don't give a shit, just get over it and go away! Don't get caught!
With that, he lifts me up by the arm and pushes me toward the door. Before opening it and pushing me, he pops out to check, and when he sees the way clear, he turns toward me, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me hastily on the mouth. At least he'll let me have that.
But I'm laughing because Charles in this hysterical version, is actually cracking me up.
- Don’t get caught, and tell me what you're up to. If you stay here and leave tomorrow, write me your room and I'll come over.
Oh, he's human again!
I giggle, nod and leave, then while I'm in the hallway he repeats sharply: - If you get caught, I'll kill you, Max!
- Yes, I missed you too, sweetie! - is my ironic reply as I quickly disappear around the corner of the corridor, just before the elevator reaches its destination and opens, presumably letting out Charlotte.
I wonder if he managed to jump into bed in time before he shows up all disheveled, barking orders at me.
As I walk to the door of the room I'd already worried about taking, knowing I'd end up spending at least the night here, I grin anticipating a splendid new lap of the track with my favorite driver. In the meantime, I grab my phone and text Joris, thanking him. He responds with a laugh and an "OK."
If I knew 2021 would be a year of change, I know 2022 will be a memorable one.
For the first time I feel enthusiasm truly coursing through my veins, an enthusiasm that has nothing to do with F1 and racing, which I enjoy anyway and which make me feel alive and happy.
For the first time I feel this way outside of that, I am this way because of what's happening outside, and as if by magic, all the shit and suffering I've eaten up until now seems to vanish into thin air, as if it never existed. I hope to remain in this ecstasy forever. If there's someone in the Universe who makes these decisions and has these powers, they know they owe it to me.”

NOTE: After making them suffer so much getting together, I can only reward them generously by giving them all the love, tenderness, sex and well-being they deserve. They are so adorable together!