Bike Ride

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I had gotten a good start that morning. I was up and dressed as early as if it were a regular day of work. After eating, a quick shower, and the complete rub-down with sunblock, I was on the street by 8:00 AM.

Long bike rides had become a yearly ritual which I both loved and hated to love: it was a lot of fun on the trail in the cool, shady spots, but it was hell in the 90°F. heat after 45 miles or so. But the feeling of accomplishment outweighed the hardness of the long ride home. As usual, I was dressed in 501’s, cut off high enough to keep me cool and long enough to prevent chafing from the padded seat of my 10 speed. My t-shirt was light coloured and my hat, shoes, and socks were all picked for comfort for the long ride from Discovery Park to Folsom Lake and back on a cool spring morning. Although I had brought my Walkman and some cassettes, I had left them in my 3 lb. backpack along with fruitrolls, a spare shirt, socks, and maps (in case I chose to leave the trail for food or repairs), a towel, and bike tools I hoped never to need.

The air was cool at Discovery Park and I picked up my pace as I started the trail proper to war up but I never got to the point where I missed the sights. The magpies, meadowlarks, and mockingbirds kept up a steady chorus while the traffic noises slowly faded away and my spirits rose. I always loved this part of the ride and it would have been perfect if I had someone to take it with. The girl I had been dating was athletic and willing but 20 miles was pushing it for her. In fact, everything was pushing it for her: my dead-end job, my lack of interest in long vacation trips to ‘wherever’, my disinterest in marriage and kids. I knew we were on limited time and so did she but we were still good friends. Anyway, she had a friend she needed to see today and I couldn’t put my ride on any other weekend. So, there I was, fantasizing about all the ways I could meet a girl on the trail. Needless ankara sınırsız escortlar to say, this is not a new thing for me to do but, hey, so what? I have never done more than offer a polite nod or a quiet ‘hello’ to any stranger but it’s fine to picture the girl riding up behind you, licking her lips, and smiling as she speeds up just enough to let you know that following is OK. Allright, maybe my imagination is a little shaky but I don’t write good scenarios, I just try to get mentally laid. Is that really so damned bad?

I was really pumping hard for about a half hour and I’d warmed up to a ‘comfortable coolness’ when I saw the first rider. Actually, it was the last rider in a large rally of riders, all which had a number and a sponsor’s name affixed to the backs of their shirts. Fortunately, the large amount of riders was spread out over a number of miles so it wasn’t difficult to pass individuals and small groups whenever necessary. What was difficult was keeping my mind on the trail and off the female cyclist’s bodies! And, wow! This was a fantasy-fuck dream come true: there were a lot of pretty women in every type of tight riding pants, shorts, cut-offs, and even some bikinis! These latter were obviously dressed for tans rather than serious riding but I wasn’t complaining too loudly. I had a great time following some of the beautiful shapes – so much so that I completely lost my pace and openly smiled and chatted with a few. I was always greeted with smiles and easy conversation. Even the guys in the rally seemed happy and relaxed. I was almost wishing I was part of the rally myself but I realized that I didn’t really want that; I wanted to be wrapped up in some cute, friendly girl’s arms and on a bike wasn’t the location I had in mind. A few more short chats, some covert looks of longing and I was up to speed again and past most of the rally – at least physically. My mind did a lot of stuff that ankara suriyeli escortlar my body never did.

A little more than an hour later, I was into one of the best spots to stop. This place was right next to the American River, overgrown with scrub oaks and a lot of patches berry bushes, ferns and cattails. I stopped, pulled my bike off the trail and sat with my feet near the water, letting the light rapids, crickets and birds lull my mind from all else. On impulse, I locked my bike to a birch sapling and wandered along the shore as quietly as I could and there she was: tall and still, but seemingly unafraid. The doe was barely visible in the underbrush about 20 yards away and looking directly at me. I was as captivated by her as she was relaxed around me; apparently, she was used to the proximity of humans on “her” range. I slowly sat down in the brush and she resumed her snack of shoots and leaves.

I don’t know how long I sat there or when I dozed off. But I awoke to a gentle rustling behind me and fully expected to see the doe as I turned around slowly. I jumped when I saw the girl, still wearing the riding shorts and shoes but nothing else! She covered my mouth quickly and gestured for quiet while pointing to the doe, which was still about 15 yards away.

I nodded and smiled, trying not to stare at her long brown hair, beautiful small breasts, or her…, oh, my! Three more of the girls from the rally were also here: each in an advanced state of losing clothes! I couldn’t believe anything this weird could happen in anyone’s life, much less mine, but, I blinked, frowned, and quietly watched the doe to…, uh, well, I don’t know! I was as ‘out-of-my-league’ as any tap-dancing, one-legged rabbit and I had no clue what to do! That lasted about two seconds until somebody slipped off my hat, got a handful of my hair, and pulled my head down. I wound up face down in the crotch of someone’s shorts ankara türbanlı escortlar with thighs on both sides of my head! Stiff as a board, I lay there and hands began touching me: my legs, arms, back, hips were all fondled. I was stripped in absolute silence, save for the rustling of the crushed underbrush and my clothing’s fasteners. I was starting to really enjoy the ‘view’ when my head was lifted gently and we all sat looking at each other. I cannot describe the other girls, (I couldn’t see after my glasses were removed) but my mouth was covered every time I even tried to whisper so I stopped trying and let my body be moved.

There were always any number of hands on me; I never knew who was where but my head was pulled down again and, this time, I was pressed into the soft moist hair between one girl’s thighs while a hand squeezed one of my hips. I lost all of my inhibitions, opening my mouth and parting her soft downy hair and body with my tongue. I could feel my chest being pinched and kissed and sucked, light biting on my shoulders and two hands kneading my calves. My head was moved up and back down again but, now, I was between different legs, different lips.

A deep warmth on my penis as I am turned onto my back and I watch the mouth that was licking me depart as I’m mounted twice: my face is covered first by yet another beautiful, wet bliss and the intense, tight warmth below is rhythmic – removed, (replaced?), teased, removed again. My head is released and immediately covered by undulating sweetness again. I feel this one’s climax into my mouth and I come, also, deep within soft, wet heat. I am placed on my side and the most loving care is given as I am repositioned and coaxed to arousal again, and again, and..

* * * * *

I awoke (again) to a slight rustle and found myself face-to-face with the doe. She blinked at me, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed mankind in “her” habitat, then turned to crash off into the foliage.

I dressed slowly, returned to my bike, and smiled as I saw the bikini bottoms on my bike’s handlebars!

I must have stood there for an hour, Folsom Lake and 100 miles of riding forgotten, and wondering how the heck she rode home without them….

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