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Lewis pinned Max to the wall, taking his overalls off roughly. He was borderline ecstatic and wild after today's podium and especially after Max's suggestive grin as he licked the champagne off his wet, sticky and plush lips covered in white foam. He knew that teasing Lewis had consequences, the other disliking any disobedience or hints at rebellion, extinguishing them harshly with orgasm denial, yet this made the whole ordeal a lot more exciting.
The driver's room's walls were thin, and Max could hear people chat from behind, Lewis' hitched breath in his ear. The other pushed him down relentlessly, forcing him to kneel between the wall and the man's crotch, eyes wide and staring up in amusement. Lewis' eyes ignited with a lustful spark, and he unzipped his trousers silently. Of course, he was fucking brilliant at dirty talk, knowing Max's weak spots after years of their strange situationship, but right now he had no time and patience for the Dutchman's snarky remarks, so he decided to shut Max up with his cock first. Max's sweaty hands were on Lewis' thighs, nails slowly scratching the skin through the fireproofs while his own naked chest glimmered under the soft lights above. His parted lips, bitten and covered in saliva, were obscene. Max looked up with such submission in his eyes Lewis wanted to downright obliterate him, make those big eyes fill with tears. He touched the wet lips with his thumb, slowly trailing it over the thin skin while his dick finally sprang free, leaking with precome right before Max's face.
"You know what to do." he whispered, guiding the tip into the other's obediently parted lips, one hand on the back of Max's head, the other under his chin, keeping him steady.
Max swallowed his cock halfway on the first try, squelching sounds filling the small room and Lewis could feel the air starting to boil with heat and filth. The engineers behind the door were still talking, and Lewis knew that Max was a little bit of an exhibitionist, using this fact against him on many occasions. Making sure that the man on his knees before him was well invested in the process, Lewis brushed Max's hair back and whispered:
"God, imagine if someone walked in on us right now. This would be so embarrassing, right? The unbeatable and wild Max Verstappen, 5-time world champion, sucking my cock like a fucking slut while being pinned to a wall." Max whimpered, his throat tightening with Lewis' words.
His hands stayed in place, but he sank lower, tracing every popping vein with his tongue, saliva and precome pooling in the corners of his mouth. He was out of breath and slightly pink, drops of sweat rolling down his forehead. As soon as Lewis' dick hit the back of Max's throat, he let out a loud, uncaring moan, grabbing the other's hair and pulling him roughly. He left no space for Max, hot fingers carding through the blond locks while constantly letting out small moans of pleasure, suddenly very aware of their surroundings. It didn't take long for him to feel his orgasm verging near, with Max's skillful mouth working as well as ever.
The thin lines of saliva were now connecting his lips and collarbones, eyes watering from pressure. Lewis harshly grabbed the back of his head and pressed the other's face directly into his crotch, listening to the soft, almost unintelligible moans. The scene from the podium shower still lingered in Lewis' head: he knew exactly where Max was getting at. When his hot come started spilling out of his dick, he quickly pulled out so the last few drops ended up on the Max's obliterated lips, his eyes rolling back in filthy pleasure. Lewis knew by the shuddered moans and twitchy motions that Max has come too, too wrung out to do something about it.
Max gazed at Lewis from under half-lidded eyes, sliding his tongue over the come-covered lips without even breaking eye contact.