Apex

A/N - I do wonder if some people following this series are wondering 'Is this a wish fulfillment for UltimateSin?"

To be honest, no. 'League of His Own' was more of a personal wish fulfillment. Making it into Formula One is incredibly difficult. Not saying rugby league is far easier, but the avenues into the NRL for a young Australian don't require parents and family to sacrifice everything for success.

No, the wish fulfillment in this story is for the little Italian team that Mark Jones is driving for.

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

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

Comments are appreciated as always.

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

*****

Will he suffer from second-year syndrome?

*****

Even though a Formula One season generally only goes from early March to early November, a driver isn't given much of an opportunity to relax. Keeping fit is vital. No driver wants to return from the break in early January to find themselves overweight and needing to burn off the excess weight before focusing on the areas required.

After the end of the previous season, I'd returned to Italy to rest and recuperate after my crash in Adelaide. It had been a hard hit, and within a couple of days, my body was feeling all the aches and pains that I'd expected. I'd lost control of the car when it aquaplaned, and the g-forces that I'd experienced were rather high. The only positive was that I didn't have a concussion, the HANS device that every driver was required to wear kept my head stable. Despite the dangers, the introduction of that one lone device had likely saved numerous drivers from injuries and possibly death.

I spent Christmas with my mother and sister in London, my sister flying in from Sydney to spend her first Christmas with us in a number of years. She brought along a woman she introduced as her girlfriend, leaving me wondering if my sister was now heading down the road of monogamy. My mother didn't have a woman to introduce me to, as I knew she had no real interest in dating men, but she did admit to dating around a bit and having some fun. Now that I was settled in Formula One, she was now focusing on her own life for the first time in over a decade.

Despite what we did for a living, many of the drivers had proven to be rather good friends away from the track. Most of the drivers had no axe to grind, did their talking on the track, and given the shared dangers that we all faced each time we drove onto a circuit, there was a close comradery between most of us. Gilles Villeneuve was one of those drivers who was the friend of nearly everyone. Well respected by his peers, he was also a driver many young drivers such as myself looked up to. He had invited both me and Pierluigi to Canada to spend time there in January, and I knew it was an open invite to most of the grid.

It was interesting to spend a week with my fellow drivers in a completely relaxed environment, and it was amusing to see the cliques, generally along the lines of nationality, common culture and language. Jacques Laffite, Patrick Depailler, Francois Cevert, Jean-Pierre Beltoise, Rene Arnoux, Alain Prost and Jean Alesi were all close friends as they were all French. Gilles shared a common bond with them through language given that he was from Quebec.

Jim Clark, James Hunt, Graham Hill, Jackie Stewart, and Nigel Mansell were all Brits, with Dan Gurney as an American sharing a bond of language with them. Since his introduction, I'd spoken with Jim at least once a week by phone. I was also close with the Italian drivers such as my teammate, Pierluigi, Lorenzo Bandini, Andrea de Cesaris, Riccardo Patrese, Vittorio Brambilla and Alessandro Nannini.

Despite the cliques, it was a fantastic week in Canada. I wasn't the only one to struggle with the snow, ice and bitterly cold temperatures at times. But given the dangers we faced for so many months of the year, it was a great way to rest and relax before we all returned home to focus on preparing for the coming season.

"Remember that Anja will be arriving at your place next week,"

Mum reminded me once I was back in Bologna. We spoke on the phone at least once every couple of days, "

I know it might be awkward living together to start with, but I know she's looking forward to working for and with you."

"It'll be fine. I know that I was struggling with my fitness at times last year. Having someone dedicated to helping me with that alone will make it worthwhile. I guess the salary that I've offered her is a bonus."

"Helps that my son is rather handsome too."

"I'm not sure that I should get involved with..."

Mum snorted on the other end of the line. "

Please, Mark. She's going to want to jump your bones within a week. As I said, enjoy your life for the next few years. Take a leaf off what a few of your fellow drivers do. Stay single, enjoy life."

"A few of them are also happily married," I replied.

"That's true. But I know that you'd like to live your best life for the next few years. Start thinking about settling down when you reach your thirties. To be honest, with what you do for a living... Speaking of that, have you heard from Adriana lately?"

"All the time, Mum. She sounds like she's happy with her new fella. As long as she's happy, that's all that matters to me. She suggested that she might come to Monza again though asked if I'd be upset if she brought him along. I practically insisted that she do so. I'd like to meet the guy that has possibly caught her heart."

"A sign of your maturity, Mark. I'm glad that you're still friends."

"Always, Mum. We share a special bond, and I'll never forget the intimacy, but I also understood why she was honest about not being in a permanent relationship with me."

I was at Bologna airport a few days later. Winters in Bologna can be bitterly cold though snow was not always common. The current winter was cold but only dustings of snow at most. Waiting in the Arrivals Hall, I waited for Anja to appear, not surprised that she was wrapped up warm when she appeared wheeling a large suitcase behind her, carrying a rather large backpack on her back. Greeting her with a kiss on each cheek, she dazzled me with a smile.

"I'm so happy to be here, Mark," she said in English. I knew that she didn't speak any Italian.

"I'm glad you're here too. I know you're going to be a real help as I did feel a little disorganised at times last year."

What I didn't expect was for her to dump her backpack and then give me a hug. "That's from your mother, but also from me," she stated.

"Are you ready to follow me around Europe and the globe?"

"I'm so looking forward to it," she replied as I picked up her backpack and carried it for her, "But I know we need to get you back in the gym pronto. I've also been putting together a menu for you. Diet is important, and although I'm sure you love what's on offer in Italy..."

"I know I can't eat pizza every day."

Once we were in my car to drive us back to what I should now call our apartment, she explained her ideas regarding my fitness and general living. She explained why my diet was so important and that it was likely that most drivers on the grid did follow some sort of diet plan, at least during the season. As for my gym regime, she'd already started to develop a plan that would help my long-term fitness and endurance. I didn't need muscle mass. Strength was important considering the g-forces I experienced every race, but it was endurance that was more important.

She was pleased with the size of the apartment and with the bedroom she would now call home. I'd bought a new queen-sized bed in preparation for her arrival, and there was plenty of storage space. The bathroom in the hallway would be hers as I had a small ensuite that suited my needs. She settled in over the first couple of hours, hearing the shower turn on as I knew even a short flight left you wanting to have a good scrub.

I made her a coffee while she got dressed, trying not to stare when she walked out wearing a tight vest that showed off some toned and slightly tanned arms, leggings that clung to what would have been toned legs with thick socks on her feet. Even though the apartment had central heating, it was bitterly cold outside. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and I didn't know she wore glasses. Noticing that I was looking at her, she accepted the coffee I was handing her before sitting next to me on the couch.

"I wear glasses most of the time. I'll wear contacts when we're working out together," she explained, "This tan is natural too, if you're wondering. Well, natural in that I like to lie in the sun. In moderation."

"I'm guessing Swedes like the sun as much as anyone."

"I try and travel to southern Europe during the summer, at least for a couple of weeks. I just don't want to end up the same colour as some of those English girls I've seen. More orange than brown!"

"I was thinking that we spend tomorrow around Bologna so you can get a sense of where everything is. A little sightseeing."

"And then we'll get started the day after?"

"That's my idea. I mean, I think I've got a good base fitness for you to start with."

"We'll need to go shopping for the right sort of food. I've already started working on a diet plan."

It's fair to say that Anja fell in love with Bologna within a couple of hours the next day. We were both wrapped up warm because of the cold weather as we spent most of the day outdoors. There was only a light sprinkling of snow on the ground, but what piqued my interest was when she asked if I'd be willing to take her out for a drive in such conditions.

"Lamborghini have given me a couple of Audi's to drive, given that they own the company," I explained, "I've got an A3 as my runabout and then an R8 for... fun..."

"Could you handle the R8 in conditions like this?" The look I gave her had her giggling. "I was just wondering if you'd spend half the time sideways like a rally driver."

We did stay in town long enough for dinner, eventually finding a little

trattoria

and feasting on pasta and pizza. Anja told me that it would be my last cheat day until the start of the season. She wanted me fitter and leaner by the time I started testing in early February. That meant she had a month to get me readier than ever before.

The next day, she had me up at 6am to start with a morning run to get the body warmer and the blood flowing. And I didn't miss the fact she wore some tight leggings again that were moulded to her rather pert bottom, and although she did throw on a jumper before leaving, she was wearing another tight vest that highlighted a rather nice bust. We both wore hats and gloves to keep our extremities warm.

After jogging for an hour, we returned to the apartment for a bite to eat, took on plenty of fluids, and then it was time for the gym. And I learned within ten minutes that Anja knew her stuff. She worked me hard. I'd always worked hard in the gym, but she pushed me to what I thought was my limit and practically ordered me past that limit. She was like a drill instructor. A sexy, blonde, Swedish drill instructor.

She worked out next to me, and even when covered in a sheen of sweat, her face rather pink from exertion, I felt a stirring in my loins. And I must have had a look on my face as all she did was smile at me at first before suggesting we shower. Meeting her in reception afterwards, she had her hair back in a ponytail and was wearing her glasses. Having not put on her coat, the t-shirt she wore clung to her chest.

Yep, living with her was going to be incredibly difficult very quickly as she was beyond attractive.

What amused me was the fact she kicked me completely out of the kitchen from that day. She cooked every single meal and made sure that I was following her diet plan to the letter. The three main meals of the day - breakfast, lunch and dinner - were not massive portions, and I was encouraged to graze through the day on the sort of foods that would constantly give me slow-burning energy.

The thing is, within a week, I felt the difference. Eliminating certain foods had me feeling even more energetic and just... better. Every day, she would have me up early for a run or a cycle. Then we'd head to the gym, sometimes twice a day. It wasn't about building muscle mass. It was all about enduring two hours of racing a Formula One car, with particular emphasis on my neck, shoulders and arms.

By the time testing began in earnest in the middle of February, I felt better than I had in my life. Healthier. Fitter. And to be blunt, horny all the time as Anja was simply sex on legs. But I was keeping things as professional as possible. Although she was technically my employee, I liked to think she was now a close friend more than anything. I'd let the team know that she would be my constant companion going forward. Giancarlo asked if she was my girlfriend, and I did stammer out an answer to eventually state that she wasn't.

"Marco!" Pierluigi exclaimed when I met him in the motorhome. He looked me up and down and grinned. "Ah, I see Anja has already started working her magic." He greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. "Got him nice and fit?"

"I've worked his arse off since the day after I arrive," she replied.

"She has," I admitted, "Though it's all worthwhile."

The first major test session of the year was held in Jerez. Most test sessions were held in Spain or Portugal as the weather was usually decent enough even in a European winter. Anja hovered nearby as I dressed in my fireproof underwear and then stepped into my racing suit. Anja had my helmet, gloves, balaclava and a drink bottle filled with the sort of drink full of electrolytes and other good stuff I would need.

I knew within five laps that Aldo Costa, the technical director of the team, had designed one hell of a car. The engine felt even more powerful though I knew Lamborghini was pushing the envelope and unreliability was inevitable. But the car was responsive, spending time back in the garage dialling out a little understeer. At lunchtime that first day, Pierluigi could barely contain his smile. We knew that the car wasn't going to catapult us to the front, but it might just prove more competitive than the previous year's car.

At the end of the first day, the usual suspects were near the top of the time sheets. We were in the upper midfield, close to the top ten and in the briefing back in the motorhome, Aldo received plenty of feedback regarding our thoughts on the car. There were three more days of testing to go and the aim was to get at least one of our cars into the top ten. My main aim was to beat my teammate. I hadn't had a conversation with Giancarlo or Fabrizio about it just yet, but I knew the expectation for my second season would be to start beating him regularly.

The next three days were just as good as the first day, and by the time testing wrapped up, we were on the edge of the top ten. Even better for me was that my quickest time was half a second faster than Pierluigi. And that was based on the same fuel level and the use of sticky qualifying tyres.

Our next test at Estoril was over four days and nearly all the teams were in attendance yet again. The car was blisteringly quick down the long front straight, and the grip through some of the fast corners was superior to the old car. Whenever I wasn't in the car or in conversation with my engineers, Anja was keeping me company in the motorhome. I always worried that she'd be bored out of her mind, but I'd often get out of my car to find her waiting for me.

"How do you think this season will go?" she asked me when having dinner at the end of the test.

"Hopefully better than last year. Now that I've got a year of experience, I know the expectations will be higher."

"I don't understand most of what the mechanics are saying given they speak mostly Italian, but they seemed happy with everything in Spain and now here."

"We've got three weeks until the first race in South Africa. Fabrizio mentioned there might be some slight upgrades before then based on the feedback we've given them."

Back in Italy a couple of days later, I was following the same routine. Anja found ways of keeping me motivated. The best example was after waking me up and heading out for our usual jog in the morning. She always wore tight leggings and always ran in front of me. She knew she was attractive. She probably knew that I was attracted to her but wanted to keep things as professional as possible. That didn't stop me from staring at her arse nearly the entire hour we were out running each morning.

At the gym, she'd wear a tight vest and some very short shorts that showed off her long, toned and tanned legs. Although she would do a workout herself, her emphasis was on keeping me motivated. I didn't give up easily, but she was always pushing me to do a little bit more. And she used her sex appeal to keep me motivated. The vest tops and sports bras she wore always highlighted more than adequate cleavage.

Once or twice a week, she'd give me a well-deserved massage after a particularly gruelling workout session. Arriving home after we'd showered and changed at the gym, she led me towards my bedroom. "Get undressed and on the bed," she told me.

"Not using your table?"

"Not this time." She turned to face me with a smile on hers. "Don't think too much about it. I just want to do something nice for you."

She disappeared while I stripped down to my underwear, grabbing a towel to lie on. I heard her walk into the bedroom and lay a couple of things down on another towel. She laid another across my butt before I felt her get onto the bed and felt her lightly sit on my thighs. She'd heated up some oil and I made a sound to suggest I liked it. Her fingers worked their magic as always.

Her fingers disappeared for a moment before I felt something else pressed against me. Definitely her breasts. Then her hot breath was on my neck. "Body to body," she whispered, "I thought you might like it."

"If you ask me to roll over..."

"Will I get a big surprise, Mark?"

"Just doing something nice for me?"

She remained silent until I felt her lift herself away and asked me to roll over. Despite everything, I knew that I was blushing as I was nursing one hell of an erection. I noticed her eyes light up at the significant tent on display, and when she didn't hesitate to remove the tent, I felt myself blush as she practically licked her lips.

"Mark... I want to. Is that okay?"

"What about you?"

"Later. Mark... I'm going to be blunt. I really like you already, and while I will always be professional at the track, when we're alone, I'd like to be more than that. I'm not expecting monogamy or anything. I just want to have some fun, and when you're stressed, I'd love to help relieve you of that stress."

"I'll ask once. Are you sure, Anja?"

She answered that by lowering her mouth and running her tongue along the underside of my cock. Other than that, I didn't need a verbal reply as I raised my head with a pillow so I could watch her lick my cock up and down with a smile on her face. When her lips wrapped around my cock, I couldn't help the groan. I hadn't been intimate with a woman since Adriana, and within a couple of minutes of Anja's head bobbing up and down on my cock, I was a little embarrassed when I warned her that I was close.

"Thanks for the warning, but I'm swallowing everything. It would be a waste," she stated before she smiled up at me, "Been a while between drinks?"