Away From The Slipstream
by David Heulfryn

 

I pulled into the paddock and gradually came to a halt in front of the only two mechanics from our team who stayed around. They grabbed my bike as I climbed off.

“Bad luck, Mate. Those bastards shoulda been disqualified for what they did to ya.”

I shrugged, removed my lid and thrust it into the hands of the man who spoke. “Yeah, well. They’re not the only ones who fucked up, that bastard teammate of mine purposefully kept me behind so that I wouldn’t be a threat to him.” My face clenched, and I felt the fury flush my entire head to crimson. “I had plenty of opportunities to pass him, but he kept blocking me. Next time I see that fucking shit-head he’s going get something to ruin those looks he’s so proud of.”

“Hey, mate. Calm down. We’re all on the same side here.”

“Are we?” I yelled back.

“We’re off to the podium, see the ceremony. You coming?” They did not want to hang around and be subjected to my ranting.

“Much as I’d love to come along and spoil that little shit’s finest hour. Not in front of the cameras.” I paused, “but when he comes back, you’d better tell him to keep out of my way.”

The two mechanics left, leaving me alone with my rage.

Slumping to the floor and hunched, I crossed my legs. My face fell forward into my hands.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I said in a slow whisper.

I had done well at the trials and had managed to get second place for the start. It was all downhill from then on. The race was full of more than its usual share of rookie riders trying to get noticed. A few times, I was forced back to avoid their rear wheels as they swung back to the group too soon. They were riding fast and hard, dangerous in places. I was expecting the officials to raise a board, calling them in. When they never came, I knew the race would be a messy fight.

Having been forced back into sixth place, I was getting frustrated. These kids had been very lucky, I would have expected a few of them to have been thrown from the track, following their bikes with their arses scraping the tarmac. But today they lived charmed lives.

The lad in front of me was losing his concentration, and I slipped past him with ease. The others kept a tight bunch, determined to keep me in my place.

Coming out the final bend, I saw the group split, and I opened the throttle. With only a few hundred metres to pull me from fifth place, I swung out wide out of the slipstream and gradually edged closer to the yellow Aprilla in front. It had not beaten me all season, and I knew they had conspired to keep me back. I thrashed every last ounce of power to pip it into fourth place, never really standing a chance of anything better.

I was in no mood for celebrating. Fourth place was nothing to be proud of. It was my worse placing so far this season, and if it was not for their conspired game plan, I would have been able to pull ahead a lot sooner.

I knew I could have done better, even with all the shit that happened on the track, I knew I had to take most of the blame. At twenty my racing career was well underway and soon hoped for that call up to the next level. Racing 125 was fine, but I wanted to be in the big league. That was where the big money was, and the fame, and the glory.

Sitting there for a few minutes, I gradually began to hear the distant din of the crowd again. I knew what it was like over there; I had been on that podium so many times I could easily visualise what was going off.

Hearing the clank of a falling spanner, my head shot up, my ears listening, and my eyes scanning for the cause. I thought it odd that anyone would choose to stay back here when they could be getting doused in fizz.

I struggled to get to my feet, my legs ached, and the leather all in one resisted my movements. I quietly moved over to the rows and rows of racks and racks of spares. Right at the back, dressed in jeans and a light coloured t-shirt, I saw a small figure lurking. He could have been any one of the thousand young spectators. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The figure slowly came forward. I relaxed when I saw the teenager.

“Sorry, sir.” He almost whispered as he put his hands into his pockets and lowered his head, his eyes looking at the oil-stained floor between us.

“Really, who the hell are you? Do you know only team members are allowed back here?”

There was a brief silence before the boy spoke, his eyes darting uncomfortably from the floor to me. “I’m the new apprentice, Mr Wilson only took me on yesterday. This is my first day on the job, and I was just getting to know the place.”

“You look young for an apprentice.”

“Just turned eighteen!” The boy snapped back defensively. His eyes looked at mine. As his cheeks reddened, he broke the gaze to stare back at the floor.

He looked younger with a porcelain face, rosy cheeks and dirty blond curly hair cascading from his crown.

“Yeah, well. What’s ya name?”

“Billy.”

“Hi, Billy. I’m…”

Billy butted in, “Tom.” His face beamed. “I’ve always loved you.” He blushed, quickly adding, “Race. Watching you race, I mean.”

I groaned. I did not feel I deserved any adulation at the moment. Bending down, I unzipped my boots, lifting one leg I called over to the lad, “Pull these off will ya.”

Billy moved closer and, grasping the boot firmly by the heel, pulled. It slid off easily, and I soon replaced it with the other.

“So did you catch any of the race?”

“A bit. I thought you rode well, certainly got off well,” Hanging is head he said, “never really caught the end. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mate. It was crap. I was crap.”

Billy stood silent, just staring at his shoes.

I unzipped my leathers and struggled to release my arms. The top half dropped to my waist, and I felt the warm air against my smooth chest. Billy cast his eyes up, looked at my sweaty torso and I stretched, bringing my arms up and behind my head to give him a good view of my pits and their few wispy brown hairs.

Walking away from the youth, I pointed to my boots in his hands. “Bring ‘em to the trailer.”

Billy followed two steps behind me, clutching the warm leather to his chest. Sweat poured from my skin to reflect the sun, glaring towards Billy.

My trailer was spacious, it had to be to, all four riders from the team and four mechanics would sleep and change here. Everyone else was at the celebrations, but I knew as soon as the initial exuberance wore off the others would come back here to shower and change. I pushed my leathers down below my hips, Billy watched as I revealed my sky-blue briefs and teased the leather over my groin, the bulge quickly returning to its natural state from its unnatural confines. I clutched and rubbed my hand over it, restoring the circulation.

“That better.” I groaned. “These things aren’t half tight. I swear I spend every race with my bollocks shoved back inside me.”

Billy smiled, blushed and turned his head slightly. This poor kid was acting coy, and it only made him look even more damned attractive.

“You’re sweating,” I said.

Billy wiped his brow with his arm.

“You’re either hot or nervous.” I got closer to him.

Taking his hand, I tucked it inside my briefs. I was warm and sticky, but Billy’s hand cupped itself around my loose balls.

I grabbed his chin with my hand, hard, and he grunted as I lifted his face up. I stared into his innocent blue eyes, the eyebrows wrinkled in bewilderment. His lips were parted, and a nervous tongue poked out to moisten them for me.

Then I kissed him. He did not flinch as I pressed my lips to his; instead, he pressed his own against mine. I wanted to taste his sweet mouth, but he was startled when I thrust my tongue into his mouth. I realised this kid hadn’t done it with anyone before and thought that this boy’s cherry was a consolation prize I could live with.

My dick lengthened in his palm. His other hand fumbled at the elastic of my briefs and pulled them down under my balls. His hand stroked my shaft as I continued to ram my tongue down his throat. I moaning as Billy retracted my foreskin, allowing his fingers to rub against my sensitive knob.

Without any persuasion, Billy broke off our kiss and fell to his knees. His mouth lunged at my cock and swallowed half of it. I felt him close his lips around my shaft and slowly pulled back to tease my ridge with his tongue. I placed my hands on his head, tousled his hair with my fingers, feeling his gentle rocking motion.

Billy slurped on my dick like a boy with his first lollipop. He was doing a great job, but I did not want to come yet. I lifted Billy back to his feet and kissed him, tasting the sweat from my dick on his lips. This time my hand went to his crotch, and I felt him through his jeans. He was hard.

I fell to a nearby bed, leaving Billy in the centre staring at my arching dick. I struggled to free myself from my leathers. “Don’t just stand there, pull the bloody things off. I’ve sweat so much the bastard thing is stuck to me.”

As I continued to struggle, Billy’s nervous fingers pulled at the ankles. Along with my briefs, I pushed the waist down as much as I could and stood up again. The leathers crumpled to the floor, followed by the flimsy sky blue cotton. Billy stayed crouched at my feet.

After disentangling me and discarding the heavy suit to the side, he gingerly got back to his feet. His hand went back to my deflating dick, but I brushed it away. I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He crossed his chest with his arms in a feeble attempt to cover up, but he fought the urge, and my mouth went to connect with his right nipple. It stood erect waiting for my bite and Billy inhaled through clenched teeth as I twisted. I reached for the bulge in his jeans and fumbled with the zip and button as I flicked his now tender nipple. I managed to free the clasp and eased the fabric over his rounded buttocks. Underneath he wore a pair of tighty whities, I wondered if he still allowed his mother to buy his pants and what she would think if she knew what was happening to them now.

His dick was hard and pushed the fabric out to reveal the tight blond curls of his pubes. My hand dived down and played with his moist tip. My mouth left his chest, I wanted to taste this boy, and I pulled his white briefs down. His dick sprang upwards, catching my chin as I tried to swallow him. The wet tip of his dick stood proud from his foreskin, my hand retracted it further while my tongue teased his exposed knob.

Billy inhaled again, his hands planted on his hips. I licked my finger and pushed it between his cheeks. I found his hole and began playing with it, pressing against his natural resistance, but not penetrating. This was a virgin arse, and I wanted to tease him before entering, showing him the pleasure one finger could give. Without any more spit, I forced my way in. He gasped and stuttered something unintelligible. His arse gripped my finger like a vice, but with a little motion it soon eased, and I could delve deeper to rub his prostate.

His lungs gasped for air. I knew he was ready and was not going to hold back. His dick swelled and pumped his fresh juice down my throat. I lapped every bit up.

Feeling his knees give, I stood up to embrace him. I pressed my lips to his and passed him some salty cum. He swallowed, and I felt the corners of his mouth turn up to smile. My hands grabbed his cheeks, parted them to allow my fingers to play with his hole. My dick was hard, bouncing against his soft and sticky member.

“I want to fuck you.” It was all that was said.

Billy’s face was thrilled, yet I sensed his unease. He willingly gave himself to me, an unspoken condition that I take care of him.

I moved Billy over to a bed and laid him face down, his knees on the floor and his backside pointing at my dick,

Spitting on my hand, I rubbed it over my dick. I knelt down behind Billy and spat twice on his cheeks. I rubbed this into his hole, a finger easing in and out.

Pushing two fingers into him made Billy groan. He felt the pain but also the pleasure as he pushed back against my fingers, those few extra millimetres doubling the sensations.

When he effortlessly opened up for a third finger, I knew he could take my dick. I spat again and replenished the spittle that had evaporated. Placing my dick against his hole, it began to twitch trying to suck me inside. I pressed hard, and Billy stifled a scream as my knob slipped into him. I paused while he recovered and gently pushed deeper. I imagined his eyes bulging from their sockets, his mouth open with a wide smile.

As my balls nestled in his buttocks, I draped myself over his back. I planted a kiss on the nape of his neck. My dick had been up many arses in the past, but none felt as tight as this. I liked this hole the best. Billy moaned, and I felt his sphincter ease-up on my cock. He was ready for me to start.

I slowly withdrew and then rammed my dick back into him. The bed shook, and Billy yelped. I carried on, in and out. My hands grabbed his hips for support. With each thrust, Billy moaned and pushed his arse back onto my dick. I was content with my hard seven inches, but today I wished I had that little extra to make Billy feel even better. Grinding myself into him, Billy’s groaning made my dick swell even thicker.

Pulling out completely, Billy sighed, but I flipped him onto his back so that I could finally see his face while I fucked him. I put his legs onto my shoulders and plunged my dick back into his warm tight hole. There was nothing but ecstasy on his face, and I smiled down to him while my hips thrust my dick into him. His hands clung to the bedclothes, and I saw that his cock was now hard again. It leaked pre-cum that trailed on his stomach.

My hand clutched his leaking dick and pumped it while I pumped his arse. This lad’s dick was rock hard, and I imagined he would pound it every night with his fist just to keep it under control.

After a few jerks, I felt him cum again. I kept my hand on his dick but never felt it soften. I wondered if he was good for a third. My own dick kept up its pace of fucking his tight hole as I smeared his fresh cum down his dick and over his balls.

I pumped harder; feeling my dick was getting close. I closed my eyes, but my mind could still see Billy’s flushed face, his groaning turning me on even more. His arse bore down on my dick with each stroke, trying to suck my out cum.

Soon that cum would be his. My guts tightened, and my balls ached. I was getting closer. My strokes became harder and deeper. Billy grunted with each thrust, but his face still showed his inane grin. Then, for the first time in years, my balls felt like were on fire as my body thrashed with the spasm of my orgasm. I gave a final thrust, my dick throbbed and spewed its cum deep into Billy. I grunted with each spasm but kept my eyes closed.

As my orgasm subsided, I opened my eyes and looked at Billy. His face could have been asleep, it was as if he were in the middle of a pleasant dream, yet his eyes open. While I stayed in him, I felt his arse rhythmically squeeze my dick, unwilling to let it go.

I pulled out of Billy and stood in front of him. My stiff dick still pointing at him and dripping its remaining drops of cum. Billy sat forward and licked the drop of cum that was about to fall from my dick. He wrapped his lips around my softening knob, sucking more cum from my spent dick.

“Get away from him!”

The door to the trailer was opened, and a middle-aged man stood looking at us, my dick in Billy’s mouth. The man was Wilson, the boss, and his eyes darted from my dick to look directly at me. My dick fell from Billy’s open jaw, and Wilson lunged forward.

“Dad!” I heard Billy cry.

It startled me, took my attention away from the man coming for me, and I began to choke as his hands gripped around my neck.

I reached for his wrists and pulled them off me. He lost his urge to kill and slumped on the bed, dejected.

“Get dressed and get out. You’re off the team, and I’ll make damned sure nobody else takes you on.”

“Don’t, Dad.” Billy pleaded and put himself between us.

I reached inside a wardrobe and grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I slipped them on, my dick feeling uncomfortable against the course fabric. Billy was pulling on his clothes that lay on the floor as I slipped my feet into my trainers.

“Now, get out.” He spat the words at me.

I turned to Billy; “Will you be alright.”

“Yeah.”

He brushed my hand with his, a parting gesture, and I left them alone.

 

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