It’s Not about the Bike

It’s Not about the Bike
It was the end of the week and I found, having completed all my work assignments that I had the Friday to myself. I threw back the duvet and looked out the bathroom window and seeing the cool yellow of a bright autumn day, decided to go for a morning ride.

I grabbed a light breakfast, showered, shaved, put on my cotton undershorts, Lycra body-suit and grabbed my wind-cheating cycling top and headed out to town.

It wasn’t long before I got into my rhythm and was pacing at a reasonable speed; I turned onto the old railway line and started to make my way out to the villages. I used this route several times before and although you may meet the occasional person walking their dog, normally it was bike friendly and I could make my way without having to stop or slow down too much. However, today was different – it was a weekday and I hadn’t allowed for the school run, consequently there was a lot more pedestrian traffic.

Most of the school k**s were already in their classes and the pedestrians seemed mostly to be attractive yummy-mummy’s walking back in groups of two or three and I was getting a little frustrated having to dodge between them.

One pair was walking towards me and I slowed down as I got nearer and prepared to ride around them. As I approached, they moved to the left and unfortunately so did I. They quickly dodged to the right but I did likewise and so we collided, albeit at very low speed.

Even at low speed a bike can do damage to a person and for my efforts, I fell off landing heavy on my elbow and the woman I collided with now had the wet track of my front tyre up the out-side of her thigh.

I got up and began apologizing profusely and it was clear that the collision had hurt her too. Her friend began remonstrating with me but I was more concerned with her leg – “I am so sorry”, I began apologetically; “Do you need any help? Do I need to get you to a Doctor?”

She laughed as she told me she was alright and turned to her friend to stop fussing and basically shut her up. She then rather generously enquired about my condition. She put me at ease by saying that there was no way a person in Lycra can fall with any dignity and that it was comical the way I seemed to fall in slow motion. I said “It comes with great practice” grinning back.

She was a petite, 5’2” or 5’3” with short hair that was cut with a feathering style and into a taper at the back and small points at the sides – her eyes were hazel and seemed to pierce without being aggressive. Her complexion was almost olive as if she had been on holiday recently and maybe tanned but not overly exposed to the sun and under her coat, a body that was trim with well rounded breasts.

We both got up and the friend seemed to want to rush on ahead and began dragging at Deborah’s arm. Deborah indicated for her to go on she would catch up with her later but needed to rest her leg awhile. I offered to walk with her a short distance until she felt Ok.

We traipsed back along the path in her direction and I found her very easy to talk to. In fact I soon found myself looking at her and wanting the walk to continue for longer. As we reached a break in the track, she indicated that she lived around the corner and asked if I needed to clean my elbow which I had forgotten about but now, on inspection, showed a small amount of blood seeping through my jacket. I accepted the offer and we went to her house.

When inside, Debs took her coat off and revealed herself to be a very attractive 25 year old. Her breasts were larger than I had perceived and held in place by a zipped crop top that barely contained its fruit! The short skirt over leggings only accentuated her shapely legs with buttock, thighs and calves all very athletically shaped. I recall thinking if it wan’t for the leggings, the skirt would do no more than act as a small curtain and couldn’t possibly cover her panties.

She took my jacket and now I began to feel uncomfortable as with those earlier thoughts and only a body suit to hide my feelings, quickly moved to the sink in the kitchen to wash my elbow under the cool running water. Relief!

Debs was moving behind me now and I couldn’t quite see what she was up to. When I turned around she had removed her leggings and was inspecting her leg where the tyre had made contact. She sat back in the kitchen chair, “Nope, no wounds to worry about” she said, “It was no more than a dead-leg that may bruise later.” “What about you?” she enquired.

As I turned, my eyes went from my elbow to her bare legs but couldn’t get past the apex of her legs! She was wearing yellow briefs that contrasted well with her tanned thighs and from her seated position, the skirt offered next to no cover. I think she new this as she did not seem offended by my staring. I caught myself and with a hoarse whisper that barely resembled my own voice, confirmed that I had no lasting damage.

“What about that?” she enquired pointing to my crotch – “that seems to have suffered no ill effects from the fall.”. Now the directness, did take me aback but quick to recover my initial embarrassment at my rising hardness, I said “Nothing that good massage couldn’t cure”.

The barriers were down – we laughed kinda knowing where this was possibly heading but unsure if either wanted the next step or not. So I took the initiative – “If you have some body creams or massage oils, I would gladly show you the benefit of massage on a sports injury” I said speculatively.

“Ooooohhh”! She squealed, “Me first, Me First!. She ran off and I knew now the leg injury was a lot less than she made out. She came back with a large beach towel, several small towels and flannels, and an armful of body butters and oils.

She led me into the living area and laid out the beach towel. I selected the coconut oils and the mint body butter – two powerful fragrances that evoke quite deep feelings and hopefully would help me weave a sense of erotic with exotic.

I wrapped some cushions in the other towels and placed these on the floor too. I told Debs to lie on the floor, on her back and placed a cushion under her upper thigh and told her to bend her legs to place the soles of her feet firmly on the floor, and relax. This gave me the benefit of being able to look at her eyes and the view to “Heaven”, unmistakably aroused, was also directly in my line of sight.

Debs shut her eyes and I proceeded to place a small pool of coconut oil in the palm of my hand and rubbed my hands together to warm it. I started at the ankles and the moment I touched her, it was as if she became charged. I started to move my hands in long strokes around the ankle, still firmly planted on the floor, and stroked up around the calf in a firm squeeze and brushed lightly the knee. I then lifted the leg, extending it out, and with my other hand, caressed the underside of her knee before placing the foot back down again. She visibly quivered at the touch to this erogenous zone.

I repeated this with the other leg and detected from the way Debs continued to lift her pelvis up that she was indeed feeling some benefit from this sports massage… I said I was feeling uncomfortable in my suit and if she didn’t mind I would take it off. She nodded her consent with a brief, “uh huh”, but neither spoke or opened her eyes.

I quickly stripped off my body suit leaving me now with only a pair of tight fitting cotton shorts that hugged my semi erect cock in place. I moved to Debs upper body, and suggested she remove her top – I began unzipping it as I spoke. She relaxed her arms as I slipped each out and lifted her head gently as I pulled the garment out from under her. Moving to her side I removed the cushions from her legs and released the short skirt, letting it fall open to one side and slid my hand to the small of her back, lifted her torso and removed the skirt – she was now lying with her knees still bent, her arms above her head, in just a small bikini brief and matching yellow bra.

I took one arm and applied the mint body butter, again warming it before I spread it onto her skin by rubbing it between my hands. I asked her to tell me about the last time she sunbathed, what the warmth of the sun felt like and what other sounds and smells she could recall.

She breathed in deeply and started to speak. As she told me of her last holiday, I moved around to her other arm and similarly applied the butter. I stroked each arm, feeling well developed muscles under the skin , stroking and smoothing from the forearm to under her arm to her arm pit. She jerked back a little saying it tickled and a playful smile drew across her face as she continued her recollection of her holiday.

When I moved to her head, the scent of Mint & Coconut permeated the air and I could see from her protruding nipples that she was aroused. I knelt above her with her head between my knees and sat back placing more Mint butter in my palm and spread this on her neck and upper shoulders.

Moving in small firm circles, I applied the lubricating butter until it began to cream in my hands and the smell became very powerful. Debs arched her back and in a simple and deft move (that I could never have achieved) unclasped and removed her Bra. Her Tits fell back but surprisingly remained firm and upward pointing. Her nipples were standing proud and her breathing was much more rapid, causing her breast to rise and heave as she breathed in the heady mix of fragrance.

I moved to the other end of her body and pushing her legs together and laying them out, straddled her thighs. The effect caused her pubic mound to protrude and her pussy lips to part slightly. Her stomach pulled in as I poured more Coconut oil onto her breast plate, the cool oil now contrasting with the heat of her skin. Her nipples jumped and as I moved the oil out in circles around each mound running each thumb over each nipple, her hips were moving in a rhythm that begged attention. I continued for minutes until it was clear from the damp patch forming at her mound, she was highly aroused.

I moved back and parted her legs slightly. She arched in an act that suggested she wanted me to remove her briefs but I pushed her back by placing my hand over her plump pussy and pushing down, allowing my thumb to part her now moistened lips with only a thin piece of material between my thumb and the hardening bud of her cherry.

I continued to apply oils to her stomach, filling her belly button and dipping into it to spread the oils around her heaving tits, down her ribs and flaring out to her hips. Only now did I hint that her briefs were going to be removed. I stopped.

I positioned myself to lower my head to her soaked briefs and taking in the heady mix of scents, placed my whole mouth over her cotton shrouded, love-juice covered, pussy.

She groaned loudly and she pulled her legs up to her abdomen and they parted simultaneously with the arching of her pelvis as she ground out her pussy into my face. It was as if my hot breath scalded her yet pleasured her. She pushed my head to force me to bear harder down onto her and began to crush my lips to her more pliable and quivering pussy. I could sense she was close to the edge. I cupped her buttocks and encouraged by her enthusiastic groans, sucked hard on her engorged love bud through the material. She crossed her ankles behind my back, pulling me down even harder.

I knelt up and in a savage move, stripped her knickers from her legs and re-planted my tongue to her clit. Her juices were streaming from her and my face slipped in the delicious liquid fire as she slid my tongue against her engorged cherry. I did no more than hold my head firm as she fucked my probing tongue, rasping it across her, determined to get every last ounce of pleasure from it.

I slid two fingers into her and combined to meet her thrusts, rapidly pistoning in and out. She exploded, screaming, she bucked against my face as I held her with my fingers buried deep inside her and my mouth clamped against her, sucking on her now vibrating cherry and drinking from her very core, her copious and delicious fluids.

Quickly I stood up getting from the floor to upright in one swift movement. I removed my shorts and my cock, now inflamed bounced free. I returned to a kneeling position as Debs tucked her legs up to her stomach as the throes of her orgasm began to subside.

I grabbed both ankles and wrenched her legs apart and dragged her backside across the floor. Kneeling close to her still quivering cunny, I positioned the head of my cock at her eager entrance. She let her shoulders drop and still holding her ankles up I rammed my prick into her, filling her completely.

She sucked in a lungful of air as I held my thrust steady. I then started a slow sawing motion, withdrawing my cock and pushing down on her legs to maximize the friction against the inside upper side of her vaginal wall. I relaxed and pushed slowly back in again repeating this over several minutes, slowly and refusing to join her in her more urgent rhythm.

I released her ankles and allowed her legs to fall open. She widened them further squeezing my cock harder inside and making it difficult for me to withdraw. I thrust my hips forward crushing her pubic bone with my own and felt the impending jerks of my own orgasm – I needed to regain control.

I placed both my hands against her pussy with my thumbs centered on the apex of her mound. She in turn locked me in by crossing her legs behind my hips effectively keeping me buried to the hilt. However, a cyclist has very strong thigh muscles and by kneeling up I levered her legs apart and pushed my thumb to her clit once more. I proceeded to fuck her with more rapid but much smaller thrusts and helped her move to a heightened pitch of ecstasy by rubbing and circling her already raw clit with my thumb.

The fluids surrounding her pussy coupling with the smells and lubrication of the exotic oils allowed me to press harder on her nub and I rubbed my thumb against her in unison with my thrusts. The force bearing down on her exposed and reddened clit was too much and her orgasm crashed from her pulsing tube and she again exploded in a gut wrenching scream, her hips snapping like a bear trap. This time though, she had me trapped and the effect of the rippling contractions inside her against my throbbing prick, with the abrasive effect of her sparse but wiry pubic mound, threatened to cleave my balls from my cock.

I collapsed on to her, heaving, breathing hard. She immediately threw me over in a surprising show of strength and it was a different set of eyes that flashed back at me. Her hair was plastered to her head in perspiration and she smiled, though her eyes narrowed. She pushed me back and said through a throaty rasp; “My turn to massage”.

I lay back, and she sat up facing me with her thighs around my legs keeping herself impaled on my cock and steadying herself by placing her hands on my chest, her nails just gripping the flesh. She stared at me and began grinding. Small circular motions at first but then widening them out and increasingly up and down. She controlled every contraction and every thrust. Bringing me closer with every exquisite twist and turn. The oils made it difficult for me to grip Debbie so I had no choice but to allow this vixen to grind herself on my deeply engorged cock.

She slammed her cunt down hard onto me and I felt sure that she was hurting as I felt the cervix crash against my sensitized cock-head. If it was, it must be pleasurable to do so as she continued this hammering. Then she drew herself almost off , gathering every last inch of me as I slipped from her and then slamming back down again. I knew I couldn’t last.

Finally, she fell on top of me and raised her pelvis in an excruciatingly slow maneuver that seems to suck the very spunk from my balls – I came in such a crashing wave that I nearly threw her into the air. Our bodies melded at the crux of our legs. Wave after wave rolled crashed down as spurt after spurt of eruption flew from my cock flowing from her and mashing at the base of my prick. She milked me dry, using her pussy as if it were a velvet fist clenching round my spasming cock.

We lay like that for what seemed ages but in reality were only a few minutes. Trying to extricate ourselves proved comical and we laughed at the smacking sounds as we parted from our fuck.

After cleaning up, we clearly suffered no ill effect from our earlier collision and aside from some tenderizing around our groin area, parted company clearly benefiting form some sport massaging!

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