My Trip Story 23
It was my buddy Mary who first alerted me to the existence of this website.
If you don’t mind trying it out for a while, you could just find that you lose some weight.’
‘You naughty cow,’ says she.
There are some fit blokes there, I guarantee you.’ “No, truly,” she says.
Even though she was correct in that I could shed a few pounds, the notion of some attractive males was the more compelling draw. So, on a Saturday morning, I met up with mary at the local cycle club for some exercise.
There were just four ladies there, but around fifteen guys. It was a decent ratio, and the males all seemed to be in excellent shape, slender, and lithe. Several of them were introduced to me by Annie. They were kind, attentive, and pleasant to be around. I’d already made up my mind about what I wanted… Cycling was something I enjoyed doing.
There was one chap in particular who caught my attention. He was conversing with two other ladies, and while I couldn’t understand what they were saying, I could tell from their body language that they were flirting excessively. He was well aware that he was attractive. Yeah, I felt he was a conceited jerk as well. The fact that my gaze was attracted towards him couldn’t be ignored. I was a bit upset that, out of all the males there, he was the only one who hadn’t even given me a sideways glance before walking away.
We were all ordered to climb up by an elderly gentleman a short time afterwards. He 103 divided us into three groups based on distance: twenty miles, ten miles, and five miles.
Annie and I were the only ones who showed up for the five-mile run. I felt a bit out of my depth, however, to be honest, I wasn’t sure that five miles wouldn’t kill me after all. It would only take a few weeks for the girls to be able to do 10 mile runs, as the older gentleman assured them. He turned around and yelled at Mr Arrogant. Peter, are you going to keep an eye on them today?’ he inquires.
Peter grinned as he nodded and looked at me in the eyes. What kind of person does he believe he is? My thoughts were flying through my head, but my heart was beating faster.
We all set off at the same time, but we quickly became separated as the others went ahead. Annie, who had politely kept back for the first half mile, began to draw away from me as well, which was embarrassing. I was moving way too slowly.
‘No, go ahead,’ I said, ‘you go ahead,’ I assured her, ‘I’ll be OK.’
It didn’t take long for me to find myself completely alone, puffing away and feeling a bit ridiculous. Then there’s Mr Arrogant, who shows up.
‘Hi, are things becoming a little difficult?’ he said with a grin.
‘No, I’m alright; it’s only that I haven’t been riding for some years now.’
That is the spirit, and it should be maintained.
He walked up behind me and immediately started speaking. All I could think about was how I was going to appear from behind the camera. But after a time, I found myself conversing with him, and he didn’t strike me as arrogant in the least. We returned much earlier than the rest.
While parking his bike against a wall, Peter advised that he should take it slow the first few times to ease himself into the experience.
I was a little resentful of myself for my previous decision. ‘Do you mind me asking if I haven’t wrecked your ride?’
The answer is “no,” since I went for a run earlier today and completed my 30 miles.
‘I have to admit, you seem to be in incredible shape.’ Is it possible that I was flirting?
I like being outside in the fresh air,’ he says.
‘I like the clean, crisp 104-degree air, and the surrounding landscape is breathtaking.’ If you’re serious about cycling, I’d be happy to tour you around some of the routes I’ve discovered. ‘Perhaps we might start off gently and work our way up?’
It was difficult not to seem too eager when I replied, ‘I’d enjoy that.’
Peter cracked a grin. ‘All well, then. What about first thing in the morning tomorrow? ‘The weather seems to be fine.’
‘Would be fantastic,’ I say.
Sunday mornings are usually my time to sleep in, but I couldn’t pass up this chance to get some work done. On the way home, I told Annie about it.
When given half a chance, he’ll try it on with you,’ she cautioned. “Be cautious,” she advised. ‘He’s just interested in one thing.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, adding, ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ I thought it was fantastic.
When I got up the next morning, I was a little more conscious about my looks. We had made plans to meet at a local club. I was the first to arrive, and I stood there watching as Peter came up on his racing bike. He was a magnificent specimen. A tan man in lycra cycling shorts and a yellow lycra shirt stood out against the backdrop of the city skyline. They seemed to have been sprayed on, and they served to draw attention to his well-muscled thighs. He drew up next me, a smile on his face.
‘You’re looking nice, aren’t you? Are you prepared for a long ride?’ With a glint in his eye, he said something.
‘I’ll try my very best,’ I promised. ‘I’m still a touch stiff from yesterday’s activities. I don’t imagine you become stiff on a regular basis?’
Peter burst out laughing. He got off his bike and slid it to the side of the road.
When he approached me from behind, he said, ‘Let me check that your saddle is at the appropriate height and that you’re well balanced.’ I nodded.
In the middle of the rear wheel, he leaned over my back, his arms stretched over my, his hands covering the 105-millimeter hole in the handlebars of the bike. His deep voice sounded smooth in my ear as he discussed the proper posture and a few other important points to remember. But I wasn’t paying attention. After a while, I became vividly aware of his arms and body around me, as if I were in a trance. I wanted him to fuck me, and he did. When he backed away, I was disappointed in him.
‘All right, let’s get this party started.’
He hopped on his bicycle. In his wicked glint in his eye, he reminded us that riding is just a matter of rhythm, and that rhythm is what it all comes down to. Once we get into a good rhythm, everything will flow naturally, and you’ll feel like you could ride for hours on end.’ He burst out laughing.
Please, don’t toy with me any longer, I thought. You may have me whenever you want.
We should go out to the countryside today since it’s a wonderful day, he added as he climbed onto his bike and pedaled out into the distance.
And it was a beautiful day, with blue skies and a crisp breeze in the air.
I followed in Peter’s footsteps. It wasn’t until we’d driven many miles that we realized we’d left town and were in the countryside. The vistas were breathtaking, especially the one just in front of me. On occasion, Peter would elevate his bottom from the seat in order to generate a little extra force as he rode up the hill. In the distance, I could make out his narrow hips and the ‘V’ of his back, which narrowed as it progressed from his wide shoulders to his tight hips, as well as a nice and firm bottom that bobbled up and down.
I thought to myself, “What a lucky old bike.”
I caught Peter’s eye as he peered back over his shoulder during a particularly difficult hill climb. The top of the hill is where we’ll have a rest,’ says the driver. He had waited for me at the top of the hill for quite some time.
My Trip Story 23
Despite the fact that I was riding in the lowest gear, I had to dismount halfway up the slope and walk the remainder of the distance. Peter greeted me with a kind smile. The compliment, ‘You’ve done quite well,’ I thought to myself, and I felt rather pleased with myself. He locked up the motorcycles and held my hand in his as he led me down a trail through some woods, away from the road.
There was a lovely scent of spring in the air, with the greenery and blossoms adding a delicate perfume to the freshness of the air. Because of the canopy of trees, the track that we were walking on had become darker and cooler. We didn’t say anything. Physical touch, with my hand in his and the surrounding stillness were all things I was relishing. We burst through the woods after just a short distance, and the sensation was exciting.
On the other side of the hill, miles of unspoiled landscape stretched out in front of us, lying under a brilliant blue sky.
‘Wow, that’s just stunning,’ I said. When I moved closer to Peter, he wrapped his arm over my shoulder and squeezed my hand. We stood there for nearly a minute, simply soaking it all in and admiring the vista.
My chest was beating with excitement. I’d answered by placing my arm around his waist and hugging him tight. I slid my hand down and laid it on the bottom of his thighs. I was having a wild and wacky night. Peter leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was a lengthy, sensual kiss. It was a sensual kiss. He made a break for it.
‘Raise your arms over your head.’
I followed the instructions given to me. He yanked my tennis shirt over my head and reached around to unclasp the bra straps from below. What beautiful breasts and well formed nipples, he said. He softly massaged and gripped my nipples with both of his hands as he reached out for me. I was experiencing pleasurable pulsations.
It feels amazing. Please don’t stop doing it.’
After a time, he lowered his head and started to lick and suck the insides of my breasts with his tongue. When I was completely aroused, I broke away and stripped off the rest of my clothing, writhing sensuously as I pulled my track suit bottoms from underneath them.
I kissed him again when I re-entered his body and wrapped my arms around his neck. This time, though, the kissing was more pressing. Peter moved his hands up and down my back, rubbing it with his fingertips. He massaged and gripped the inside of my thigh. I took a detour once more.
‘Come on, it’s your time to take off your clothes.’
Peter drew his arms around his chest and pulled his lycra shirt over his 107 head. I took a few steps back and breathed a sigh of relief before going closer and ran my hands over his chest and shoulders.
We kissed each other again. The gentle wind caressed me as if it were another set of hands stroking me. I tore myself away from him, crouched down, and tugged his tight lycra shorts down over his calves. His cock shot out in front of me, twisted and twisted like a crooked twig.
‘Thank you, God,’ I said, laughing, ‘for this spring air surely encourages growth.’
He didn’t say anything, but he did gaze at me, as if expecting something. I didn’t let anybody down. It was a slow and deliberate movement of my tongue up and down the length of his cock, pausing sometimes at the base to take his balls in my mouth. Then I sucked them back in while softly caressing the top of his cock with one hand and massaging the inside of his thigh with the other.
With my hands on his thighs, I gently inserted the end of his cock into my mouth and massaged it with my lips and tongue until it was perfectly smooth.
Peter was now cradling my head in his hands, letting out brief gasps of air between each breath. I moved my lips away from his cock and looked at his purple head, which was now shimmering in the reflected sunshine, with admiration. I clenched it in my fists and raised my eyes to his in surprise.
‘What happened to the riding lesson you were going to give me?’ I inquired.
I rose to my feet and moved some steps away from him till I came to a heavily grassed area where I could go down on my hands and knees.
So, if my memory serves me well, this is the perfect riding posture,’ I said.
I hoisted my bottom high in the air and wiggled it in a sensual manner as I extended my elbows in front of me until my face was nearly touching the floor.
‘Does this seem like the proper way?’ “I said, quite innocently.” I’d never had such a rash of emotions before. No vocal response came from him, but I felt hands holding my hips, and we both moaned as his cock suffocated me. He started 108 to fuck me gently, and I could feel his hands massaging the insides of my thighs and buttocks. When I gazed ahead of me, I was overcome with a great sensation of freedom.
Here I was, completely nude, in the middle of a lovely, wide field, with the warm sun on my skin, a gentle wind caressing my skin, and a gorgeous guy fucking me. I started to groan, then scream, and the sounds faded away into the background. I moved in sync with him at first, but as his thrusts got more intense and strong, I leaned forward, stretched out my arms and grasping handfuls of grass to keep myself from falling over.
The scent of the grass lingered in my nostrils as I put my head on the ground, feeling powerful waves of ecstasy flood over me. Peter’s grasp on my hips became more firm as he, too, experienced climax. After that, we snuggled on the soft grass for a little time before getting ready for the evening. I was grateful that the most of the route back was downhill since I was very exhausted.
Peter came to me a few days later and confided in me. The cyclist says, ‘I’ve been riding for years, and it’s the first time I’ve ever done it in public.’
I didn’t trust him at first, but he was firm in his convictions. In any case, he has said that he is determined to develop this new component of the sport, and I have stated that I am committed to assist him. As of right now, we’ve already fucked in a number of well-known beauty locations. ‘Faffing about’ is what we call it (Fresh Air Fucking). Annie recently inquired as to whether or not I will be taking a vacation this year.
‘Yeah, I’m going riding with Peter,’ says the author.
‘Is there a certain location?’
Not exactly, we’re simply riding our bikes and seeing where the road takes us. ‘You know, just ordinary faffing about,’ I suppose.
She didn’t seem to be all that interested.
A little note to say that I’ve shed a half-stone and am now fit as a fiddle. I’m 109 and I’m not sure whether it’s the riding or the faffing that’s making me feel this way.
