This Erotic story based on the TV game show, The Amazing Race

My best friend Brock and I had been fans of ‘The
Amazing Race’ since the program had first started, back
when we were in high school. While the show was airing,
we’d often joked and fantasised about how we would work
if we were ever a part of the contest ourselves. When
we saw each other after each episode, we would joke
about how we would do things differently. When another
friend tipped us off that applications were being taken
for the next season, we decided to have fun with our
application.

We sent in the required photograph and biographies, but
didn’t expect to hear from the company, considering how
many contestant applications they must receive. We were
shocked firstly when we were invited to initial
interviews for the program, but when I answered the
phone to Brock telling me we had been accepted on the
show, I thought he must have been kidding around.

Luckily for me, he wasn’t, and since then we had seen
eleven teams of two whittled down to five as we drew
closer to the final leg of the race. Although I was
competing seriously, I knew that even if we were to
lose in the next leg, I would still have been proud of
my achievements with Brock, and satisfied with the
experience. After all, how many people could say that
they had abseiled down the Eiffel Tower, or ridden
along a zip-line from the Tuscan cliff-tops to the
impossibly blue ocean below?

Although the competition was usually at the forefront
of my mind, I sometimes wondered how I would look on
the television, once the tapes had been edited into
neat, hour-long episodes. I thought I’d gotten along
well with the other teams, and knew that I had even
considered some of them friends. I wondered now if I
would be edited to look like the bitches of past
seasons, the teams who I had criticised. I found myself
regretting idle remarks I made about others, for fear I
may come off as more viciously competitive than I
really was.

In reality, teams were all, generally, quite friendly
with one another when the cameras weren’t rolling,
which was rare. Just what went on during the Pit-stops
isn’t broadcast, because any developing plot-lines of
fighting between teams tended to fall into
insignificance while we weren’t racing. On more than a
couple of occasions, I’d shared laughs and drinks with
contestants who, I would find out later, were portrayed
as my enemies on screen.

Now, as we drew near the finish line, there were only
five teams left as we settled into our Pit-stop, a
windmill outside Amsterdam, where the majority of the
leg had been run during the day. I was exhausted, but
proud of coming second in this leg. Donnie and Lewis,
the cousins from New York, had come in last place, and
been sent home by Phil, the programme’s host, who,
although he rarely socialised with us during the twelve
hours of down-time that was our pit-stops, I had come
to also consider a friend, even if he was our
adjudicator.

The windmill was different to other pit-stops, which
had been motels and even fairly luxurious hotel rooms.
There we’d enjoyed ourselves in the restaurants and
bars with other teams before getting rest for the next
leg. The windmill was cramped, with pairs of narrow
single beds fitted where they could. I’m not sure if it
was being confined to such close quarters, the fact
that we were drawing nearer to the final round, or a
combination of both, but teams were generally fairly
restrained, and kept to themselves on this pit-stop.

‘Julia?’

It was still dark when the voice drew me from my sleep.
When my team mate, Brock, eventually came into focus, I
tried to make out details in the rest of the room. It
looked like Steve and Andrew, the team who had come in
a fair way before us, had already left, as their beds
were empty and bags gone.

‘It’s time to get ready,’ Brock whispered.

When we crept downstairs to the communal, hostel-style
bathroom facilities, Steve and Andrew were leaving,
clean and ready for the next leg and to wait for the
signal to open their clue outside and begin racing.
Steve and Andrew, according to their biography and what
I’d learned from our chats, were tradesmen from
California. They’d been friends since high school, like
Brock and I, and were around the same age, and a strong
team. It was their physical strength that made them
such difficult opponents to us, and I knew that other
teams were underestimating their intelligence.

Andrew smiled at me when they rushed out the front
door. ‘Good luck today,’ he said.

‘You too,’ I smiled back, and Brock also wished them
luck.

While I was enjoying the warm water of the shower, I
heard movement outside the stall.

‘Brock?’ I whispered over the divider into the shower
stall next to my own. Brock said quietly that he had
already heard the movement.

‘Good morning!’ he called out cheerfully.

‘Good morning.’ I recognised Stan’s voice right away.
‘Early birds getting the worm?’

I wasn’t sure if it was a joke or how to respond.
Luckily, Brock responded and saved me trying to figure
it out.

‘We hope so!’

I heard quiet discussions outside the door of my
shower, but over the water, couldn’t make them out. I
figured it was Stan, the oldest entrant in this Race,
talking with his team mate, his 21 year old grandson
Will. After the first few legs of the race, a few
people had doubted the team’s ability, due to Stan’s
age, but I deduced it was the combination of Stan’s
worldliness and Will’s intelligence and physical
strength that had made them such a strong team.
Besides, the teams who had thought Stan and Will would
be easy to defeat had been left behind long ago.

Even thought we’d allowed plenty of time to get ready,
I felt rushed by the fact that the next team was so
close to us. I hurried myself in the shower, and dried
myself off and wrapped a towel around myself while
still in the cubical. When I opened the door I first
saw a man’s back, wearing only a towel wrapped around
his waist. It was Will, and he was standing at the
basin, shaving. I caught his eye in the mirror
momentarily.

‘Oh,’ I stammered. ‘I’m sorry.’

He turned around to look at me without the aid of the
mirror, and with most of his face still covered in
shaving cream, said ‘That’s ok! Don’t worry about it.’
Will was quite strong, with clearly defined, if not
large, pectoral and arm muscles in clear sight to me
now. Although all the teams had been living in fairly
close quarters, I hadn’t yet seen Will in this light,
and oddly felt a little nervous for some reason. ‘Did
you see Steve and Andrew this morning?’

I heard Brock’s voice answer the question, and realised
for the first time that he was also out of the shower
and at one of the two other basins and mirrors, in the
corner, brushing his teeth and similarly clad in just a
towel. I figured Will’s grandfather must have been in
the shower I could hear running. Brock explained that
the first team had left the bathroom just as we’d
entered, while I grabbed the pile of clothes I’d
selected for the start of today’s leg from the shelf in
the corner.

‘No peeking, you two,’ I said, ducking into a dark
corner of the bathroom where I was sure they couldn’t
see me anyway. As I went around the corner to dress, I
saw Brock and Will exchange a sly glance, and wondered
what it meant.

Once I’d brushed my teeth and made myself pretty for at
least the start of the race leg, Brock and I waited for
the clock to tick around to our starting time beside
the clue box outside the windmill. As soon as time
came, I tore open the yellow envelope, and smiled
broadly at what I saw. We were headed for Switzerland!
I told Brock excitedly, and we jogged to the small,
nearby village and found the one open business a gas
station. The owner didn’t seem too startled by the
camera following us, and I guessed it was because Steve
and Andrew had already passed by this way. It didn’t
take too much persuasion for the man behind the counter
to call us a taxi, and soon we were on our way to the
airport.

The ticketing desks were just opening when we arrived,
and I made a beeline for Steve and Andrew, who, with
their own camera, stuck out in the bare terminal.
Obviously, they wouldn’t tell us how they were
travelling, and we walked quickly past them to the
first desk we saw. It turned out that we were on the
same flight as them, shortly later, and, we found out
when they boarded only moments before the doors were
closed, so were Stan and Will. I tried to construct
tactics in my mind, but the best I could do was to draw
a ladder of where we sat in my mind.

I knew the teams we were effectively even with. That
left two more teams unaccounted for, but I knew that
they would have left the hotel around an hour after
Stan and Will and we had, in close succession. Those
teams were Lily and Paul, a couple in their late 20s
from Boston who had been, since the third leg, visibly
dysfunctional. The slightest hick-up in their race
would start the pair fighting, and I’d overhear their
mandatory interview at the end of a leg, in which they
had admitted that they were unsure about the status of
their relationship, and were now in this solely for the
$1,000,000 prize.

Following closely behind them was Monica and Steph,
cheerleaders who, although I felt myself laughing at
internally, I had come to be good friends with. They
could always be relied upon to make humorously
inaccurate observations of the landmarks we passed, but
they were good people, even though they’d come under
criticism for using a U-Turn early in the game, which
ultimately led to another team being eliminated.

The flight was short, and after we touched down, we
were last to get a taxi from the airport to the train
station, but luckily caught up with the other two teams
there. Once we got off the train, there were marked
cars waiting at the station to take us to our first
Roadblock clue, and the three teams drove more or less
in convoy, arriving at about the same time.

‘Who can take the cold?’ the clue asked. Brock and I
looked at each other, unsure what to make of such a
hint. ‘I’ll do it,’ Brock stated, and I’m sure he took
it because he knew how I felt the cold. Even cold
mornings during winter were too much for me. ‘Good
luck,’ I told him, and he ran in the direction that
Andrew had only moments earlier, and was followed
shortly after by Will.

When I heard what the Roadblock task had been, I was
glad Brock had offered to complete it, simply because I
would have been no match for Andrew and Will, who were
much stronger than me. They had to paddle themselves
along a rough stretch of rapids going through the alps
in a rubber dinghy. Stan, Steve and I stood on the
bridge, a short distance from where we’d picked up the
clue, and waited to see who would finish first, or if
other teams would arrive. I’ll admit, the conversation
here, while we were actually racing was awkward.

Andrew was the first to splash underneath us on the
rough water, and let out a ‘Woooo!’ as he passed by.
Although it looked like fun, and I clapped for him, I
felt tense, hoping Brock would be soon after. I clapped
again when Will drifted by, calling something
indecipherable up at us, but I also bit my lip. Brock
had left after Andrew, but before Will, and I wondered
how he had ended up behind. I hoped the rapids weren’t
proving too much of a challenge for him.

Grinning, Andrew soon ran up the path from the landing
pier, unzipping the wetsuit teams had been provided for
the challenge and passing the latest clue to his team
mate to rip open and read with dry hands. I tried to
hear what they were saying, but made out nothing, and
before I knew it Andrew had the wetsuit opened to his
waist, and his tanned back was jogging away from me to
his marked car, and, hopefully, a towel. Although I’d
been cheering Brock on in an earlier task that he’d
competed in the Caribbean, searching for a hidden clue
in the warm water, I had been stealing glances at
Andrew’s muscled physique as he dove in and out of the
water.

Stan cheered as Will ran in his dripping wetsuit
towards us. I half-heartedly clapped, and watched them
run to their car and dry clothes and the rest of the
race, and leaned on the side of the bridge, waiting for
Brock to drift by. I tried to be friendly and bury my
frustration as first Monica and Steph, and then Lily
and Paul arrived and started the challenge. I was
pleased though, when Brock passed by underneath the
bridge a moment later, and smiled down to him as he
looked up. If nothing else, he looked to be genuinely
having fun with the rapids task.

When he ran towards me in his dripping wetsuit, I
snatched the yellow clue envelope away from him, and
ushered him towards the car. We were headed for a small
town nearby, and I located it quickly on the map. As
Brock dried himself and changed in the back seat, I
shoved the map back, pointing out where we were now,
and where we needed to get to. After confirming he knew
where we were going, Brock leaned forward to speak to
me over the back seat, the camera man next to him
zooming in.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said to me. ‘They were too strong for
me. That water was really rough. I tried’

‘You did really well,’ I smiled at him in the rear-view
mirror. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

Compared to the windmill that was our last Pit-stop,
the hotel we were in for the Germany stop was
luxurious. We were back to private rooms, to everyone’s
delight. After dinner, Brock went to bed early, and I
found Stan and Will in the lounge attached to the bar,
talking quietly while a news broadcast in German played
softly on the TV behind them. We made idle conversation
about our favourite sites so far, until Paul came
noisily into the room. I hadn’t seen Lily since dinner,
and the cheerleaders had been sent home in tears after
finishing in a close last place.

‘Anyone up for a game of pool?’ he asked. I thought he
held his eyes on me longer than the two men I was with,
but he seemed satisfied enough when Stan stood up, and
said ‘I can’t say no to that!’ The pair went into the
other room, and I heard the clatter of billiard balls
right away.

‘So I’ve been wondering’ Will said once we were alone,
a twinge of nervousness in his voice. ‘You and Brock
are you, like um’ He was stammering like a nervous
school boy.

‘We’re just friends,’ I helped him out. ‘If that’s what
you were wondering.’

‘Oh,’ Will responded, nodding slightly. ‘Cool.’ There
was a brief, slightly uncomfortable pause, which Will
thankfully broke. ‘Oh, wow. Where are my manners
tonight? I haven’t offered you a drink. Would you like
something?’

I laughed at him a little, and told him I would just
have one, and he shortly returned from the bar with a
beer for himself and cocktail for me. ‘Is this how you
get an edge on girls in the Race?’ I smiled at him.
‘Leave them feeling hung over in the morning?’

He seemed to miss the joke at first, making a series of
defensive mutterings, before noticing my smile. We only
had a couple of drinks, over which we discussed life in
what teams had come to call ‘the real world,’ that is,
what we did at home from the race. Will told me about
his studies at college, in IT, that he would be
returning to after the Race, and I told him that I had
recently graduated a marketing degree and was now
looking for work.

Although Will was shy on his own, he was quite charming
and polite, kind of in an old fashioned way. He said
that although he lived with his parents, he and his
grandfather had always been close, and I wondered if
Stan’s old-world mentalities had rubbed off on him. I
knew I needed rest to be on the ball in the morning,
and thanked Will for the drinks. ‘I’ll pay you back
when I win the million!’ I joked.

‘You wish!’ he said, ‘But you can come to the party I
have in the house I’LL buy with MY million dollars! I
should go to bed too, though,’ he decided, and let his
grandfather know what he was doing and said goodnight
to Paul. Stan said that he would be up after the game,
and Paul objected, asking for one more after. ‘We’ll
see,’ said Stan. ‘I’m old, you know. I need my rest.’

I felt a little tipsy from the two drinks I’d had, but
certainly not drunk as we climbed the stairs to the
rooms, and stumbled a little towards the top. Will
caught me, and it wasn’t until we got to his door, the
first of the team rooms, that I realised he’d been
holding my hand ever since.

‘You must think I get drunk so easily,’ I said, looking
away and finally taking back my hand.

‘No,’ Will said, trying to catch my eye. ‘That was just
an accident on the stairs.’

‘Well,’ I said, feeling awkward myself now. ‘Thank you
for the drinks.’

I kissed him on the cheek, and Will seemed taken aback
for a moment, before he leaned in towards me, as though
requesting another kiss. I faced him, and our lips met,
and we kissed passionately outside his room’s door. I
went with the feeling, but, honestly, this was
incredibly unexpected. I was sure I’d been obviously
flirting with Andrew, and wondered if anything might
happen between us, and hadn’t even considered Will,
though I thought he was cute.

‘Sorry,’ he said, after the kiss was mutually broken
away from. I told him not to be, and, as though to
prove my point, leaned in for another kiss. Without
speaking, Will unlocked his room’s door. ‘Would you’
he started a question nervously, and I saved him from
finding the right words by stepping into the room
myself. He pushed the door closed behind himself.

I sat on the bed beside the window, and looked over my
shoulder, as Will walked towards me. ‘This hotel has
the most incredible view,’ I said, looking out the
window, legitimately impressed.

‘I don’t know,’ Will said. ‘I like the view from where
I am.’

I looked up, and laughed at his cheesy line when I
realised he was looking directly at me. I patted the
bed next to me, and Will obediently sat. He put an arm
around me and we kissed again, for longer this time,
and he manoeuvred me around into a lying position on
the bed underneath him. I pushed his shirt off and ran
my hands over the smooth stomach I’d admired in the
bathroom in a different time zone the day prior. At the
same time, his hands were probing under my tank-top,
and I sat up to help him out and lift it off, pushing
him back down onto his back as I did so, and kneeling
above his lying form.

Taking control, I unclipped his belt buckle and pulled
down his jeans, letting my hand brush against the
erection beneath his underwear as I did. When I tossed
away the jeans, he reached up behind me and, after a
few failed attempts, unclipped my bra. It fell loose
and I tossed it aside. Will reached up with one big
hand and spread it around my breast, just holding it
for a while, before letting his fingers focus on a
nipple. I breathed heavily as he ran his fingers around
its edge, then traced one finger slowly down my body,
until he found the edge of my jeans. He traced around
to the zipper, and I undid it myself, and pushed the
jeans off.

I lay on top of him now, both of us only wearing our
underpants, and felt his protrusion against me,
straining to be released from his boxer shorts. I ran a
hand over his firm chest, noticing for the first time a
sparse patch of fine, dark hair that I hadn’t noticed
before. I ran my fingers through it, as he sneaked one
of his own into the leg of my underpants, and crept
around inside. With little room to explore, he finally
tugged on the pants, and I lifted myself from him a
little, allowing him to drag the underpants off me.

Will kissed my mouth passionately as he let a finger
snake through my fine hair into my waiting lips below.
I must have already been quite wet just from making out
here with him, but I felt incredibly excited as Will’s
finger circled my opening. The circling motion morphed
into an in-and-out motion incorporating more fingers,
and I couldn’t help but find myself breathing too
heavily to continue the kiss. I’d experienced orgasms
before, but never simply from a guy’s fingers. I’d
brought myself on and experienced it during sex, but
never just from the touch of another, so it was
unexpected when I came then and there.

I shuddered as Will withdrew his fingers, and he ran
the fingers of his other hand through my hair as I
rested my head on his broad chest, catching my breath.
I could still feel his penis pressing firmly against
me, wedged between our bodies as I lay on top of him,
but he hadn’t yet complained. I pressed a hand between
our bodies, running over the ridges of his abs, and
letting a finger run around his navel, then through the
soft hair of his happy-trail. I followed it down until
I reached the elastic of his waistband. I stopped
briefly there, then flattened my palm and fingers to
creep underneath, feeling the trail widen and thicken.

Soon my fingers stopped at the base of his shaft, and I
noticed Will was staring at my eyes. I looked into his
as I used one finger to trace around him, cupping his
balls in my hand. I massaged his scrotum lightly, then
dragged a finger along the length of his shaft, causing
him to breath in slowly, and hold it. He gasped a
little as my finger passed onto the sensitive head at
the end.

I let the finger circle the tip and he closed his eyes.
I took this as a cue to use my free hand to pull at the
waistband of his underwear and, eyes still shut, he
lifted his hips a little to make the task easy.
Underneath, Will looked big to me, certainly bigger
than any guy I’d been with before, and I took him in
hand. I wrapped my fist around him, and worked it
slowly up and down, studying his responses.

His eyes finally opened, and looked straight at me.
Neither of us spoke, but Will’s breathing turned heavy
as I tightened my grip on him slightly, and quickened
my strokes. Finally he whispered something that might
have been my name, and I shuffled down to kiss the tip
of his cock, still pumping the shaft in my hand. When I
felt the first drops of his release on my lips, I
pushed my mouth around him, and he shot once, then
twice, then three and four times into my mouth. I’d
never enjoyed giving fellatio, but dutifully did to
past lovers, and now found that I was relishing in
watching the effect this had had on Will’s body. I ran
my eyes from my current vantage point up his body,
watching him panting heavily.

When Will’s breaths started to slow down, I crawled
back up the bed, and he put his arms around me, holding
me close. He whispered my name, but otherwise said
nothing, just moving his hands slowly up and down my
back. At one point, I thought I heard the door open,
and looked over. It could have been Stan’s silhouette
in the doorway. Perhaps he’d seen us and left hoping to
return at a less awkward moment. More likely it was
just a second of paranoia. There was, after all, a
million dollars at stake. Meanwhile, while I was
thinking of the Race, Will was running his hands more
firmly along my back, making longer and longer stops to
caress my ass. At the same time, I could feel him
getting hard again beneath me.

I sat up to get a better look, and, with his hands
around my hips, I held and massaged Will’s penis,
felling it growing harder in my hand, perhaps harder
than it had been before. Looking from where I was at
this handsome, muscular guy, I also felt incredibly
turned on. I leaned back down to kiss him, and while I
was there, felt Will guiding himself gently into my
pussy. Once he entered, he gently and smoothly
completed the penetration, and I gasped when he was all
the way in, further than any guy I’d been with.

For a moment, I just enjoyed the feeling of closeness
with Will that I had right then, but was also wary that
he needed to enjoy himself too. I lifted myself slowly
away from Will, until I thought he would fall out of
me, then brought myself firmly down on him again. It
didn’t take long until we found a rhythm and our bodies
were moving in a fluid motion with each other.

I knew it wouldn’t be long until Stan came through the
door, wanting to go to sleep, but I wanted to savour
the time I had with his grandson. Will pulled me firmly
towards him, and I felt his warm release within me, at
the same time as I felt myself tighten, and shudders of
pleasure ran up and down my spine.

We held each other close for only a moment before I sat
up.

‘I need to go and get some rest,’ I said. Will simply
nodded. At the end of the day, this was a competition.
‘Good luck tomorrow,’ I said as I kissed his forehead,
and quickly dressed. He said the same thing as I left
the room.

Brody stirred when I crept quietly into our room, but
didn’t seem to wake. I tried to force myself to sleep,
and was awake for longer than I would have liked to
have been. Who knew what challenges would await us the
next day?

It turned out to be a flight to India, where we
struggled to communicate with taxi drivers, and had
trouble with a Road Block. In the end, we came last,
but neither Brody or I shed tears when Phil said ‘I’m
sorry to tell you, you have both been eliminated from
the Race.’ I wasn’t sure how hearing those words would
feel, but was impressed that I could see the experience
for the series of friends, unforgettable sights, and
the incredible adventure it was.

After we were flown home, we were invited to return to
the Race, to the finish line in Seattle, where all the
teams were. It was great to see them, and discuss the
Race and how things were going in ‘real life.’ We
didn’t have long, however, before the crew told us that
the first team was drawing near. I held my breath as
the team with the best view started cheering, and
literally jumped for joy when I saw first Will, then
his grandfather Stan climbing the hill towards the
finish line. Will jumped triumphantly onto the
trademark Amazing Race doormat to see Phil, and hugged
his grandfather. They knew. I thought that Will
directed a smile at me, but couldn’t imagine what must
have been going through his mind as Phil summarised
their Race, concluding with ‘Stan and Will, you are
team number one!’

Will had promised a party at the mansion he would buy
with his winnings, and it wasn’t until months later
that a voice on the end of my telephone that I didn’t
recognise at first said ‘Julia? It’s Will.’

I thought he was announcing the party, which was
exciting enough, but I am not ashamed to say that I
giggled at what he finally said to me.

‘Would you like to maybe go out for a coffee with a
millionaire?’