Bike Ride


It had been a slow summer. I had a decent job at my father’s law firm – a lot more substantive work that what a typical college undergrad could expect – but no matter how much I adore him, it was still working for Daddy. A knee injury at the beginning of vacation further cramped my style, and limited my workouts to the gym in the office building – again usually with Daddy and/or some of his co-workers. On top of that, a series of rainy weekends had kept my friends and me from the beach, and my boyfriend delivered the straw that broke the camel’s back by giving me the “let’s see other people” talk as he headed to Australia for a semester abroad. So, I spent most of my “vacation” around one or both parents, with a limited social life, and NO SEX! Ugh!!

I learned early in my sexual life that boys (and men) like looking at my body, and I usually am happy to oblige them by wearing as little as legally allowed at the beach, and going on extended runs in nothing more than extra-small running shorts and my sports bra. This dovetails well with the fact that I also love sex. However, this summer I had been limited to wandering naked around the house when my parents were out and using my trusty vibrator for companionship.

Finally, about three weeks before it was time to head back to campus, the physical therapist cleared me to start biking. So, at least I could get outside to exercise. Running is my preferred workout, but I would take what I could get. My first ride was on a muggy Wednesday evening after work, and I planned to ride at a park about five miles from my house that has a fairly level two-and-a-half mile loop. Horny as I was, I really wanted some male eyes on me, but I couldn’t convince myself that riding hunched over in a crop top was sexy. So, I dug out an old triathlon outfit I had used in high school. Then, I had worn it over a swimsuit, but today I decided to wear it by itself. After I zipped it on, I admired the way it hugged my curves. Its dark blue fabric disguised the fact that I was naked underneath, but if you looked closely enough you could see the outline of my camel-toe and of my hard nipples.

Upon reaching the park, I unloaded by road bike from the car, and went through my stretching routine. Given that it was a really nice evening, I was surprised – and a bit disappointed – that there weren’t more people around. Being careful to protect my knee, I started off slowly. After about half a mile, I passed a couple walking their dog. Because they were going Kastamonu Escort the same direction as me, I couldn’t see their faces, but I hoped the man enjoyed the view of my spandex covered ass. I next passed some soccer fields, and enjoyed the view of a local high school team at preseason practice. Yes, the boys probably were a bit young for me, but most of them were shirtless, and their sweaty bare torsos got my juices going. Some of the players were jogging toward me, and I gave them a big smile. I was a bit pissed, however, not to get more than a passing glance.

“I’ll show them!” I thought, tugging at the zipper at my neck. “Yes, that’s much better.” Where before, my c-plus cup breasts had been completely hidden, now when I looked down I could see a bit of cleavage. Standing up, no one would have thought twice about the amount of skin I was showing, but hunched over my handle bars, I was giving a nice view to those who cared to look. The cool breeze on my skin also helped cut the stifling humidity.

As I passed the park’s rear entrance, I saw an older guy stretching. I hoped he was just starting his run because I liked his looks. He obviously was in shape, had a head of tousled brown hair, and a firm jaw covered by a salt-and-pepper beard. He looked up at my approach, and locked eyes with me after giving my neckline an appreciative glance. This time, my smile was returned. After breezing past him, I glanced back and was pleased to see him still checking me out.

By the time I passed the soccer field a second time, I was well warmed-up and had settled into a nice pace. I liked the feel of my self-created breeze down my shirt, and the feel of the narrow seat against my clit kept me in a pleasant state of semi-arousal. This time, the boys shyly returned my smile while staring at my tits the way only teenage males can.

“Much better,” I thought. Even so, feeling horny and bolder, I decide to pull my zipper down another three inches or so. Now, anyone looking would know that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the added looseness allowed my nipples to move against the fabric stimulating me further.

Rounding a curve, I saw the runner again. He seemed to be in his early forties, and was moving at a good pace with long, powerful, strides. I smiled as our eyes met. He returned my grin, and made a point of moving his gaze to my chest as we passed.

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

I laughed, and called back, “your turn!”

I smiled prettily Kastamonu Escort Bayan at a couple of women who gave me dirty looks as they power-walked, but their disapproval was more than offset by the soccer players. Some were bold enough to hoot and whistle at me, and I blew them a kiss as I sped by. The thought of my body fueling their masturbatory fantasies that night made me even hornier. I knew my vibrator was in for quite a workout when I got home.

I entered a long straightaway, and was pleased to see my runner at the opposite end. I was even happier to see that he had taken my hint and removed his shirt. His chest was muscular, without being muscle-bound, and had a nice amount of hair that funneled into a line running pointing to his navel, and then into his shorts. I slowed a bit to enjoy the view.

“One good turn deserves another,” I thought and, making sure he saw what I was doing, pulled my zipper down another few inches. Had I stood up now, my tri suit would have been open to below my breasts, and I knew he would be able to see the curve of their undersides as I went by.

“Beautiful,” he said.

“You too!”

I knew where I wanted to pass him the next time, and I had to move to get there in time. The increased pace led my breasts to swing a bit more, and they bid fair to spring free of my outfit. I actually considered letting them out, but decided instead to keep my shoulders back (there was no way I was going to zip up). After enduring the biddies’ disapproval once again, I reached my goal: a set of bars, benches and other calisthenics equipment next to a service path. The runner had beaten me there, and was engaged in some sit-ups on an inclined board. As I dismounted, I admired the flex of his muscles beneath his skin. Making sure I was standing where he could see me, I unzipped my outfit below the navel, and made a show first of drinking from my water bottle, and then spaying it over my exposed skin.

“Want a sip?” I asked as he stood up.

“Thanks.” He walked over and took a long swig from my bottle.

With a flash of disappointment, I noticed a wedding ring on his left hand, but decided I didn’t care if he didn’t. However, I also decided to leave the next move up to him. He didn’t disappoint.

“That’s sweet,” he said handing the bottle back, “but not as sweet at this.” With that, he ran his index finger up from my navel to between my breasts before licking off the drops of sweat and water he Escort Kastamonu collected there.

I shuddered a bit at his touch, and felt my pussy go from moist to soaking.

“Looks good,” I said and, leaning forward, traced the outline of one of his nipples with my tongue.

“Let’s take a walk.” My voice was husky with excitement.

I grabbed my bike and his hand and we moved down the service path. As I knew from high school experience there were a couple of open sided sheds about twenty yards down, one of which faced away from the path. As I propped my bike against a tree, I retrieved a condom that I always keep in my small change purse for such occasions.

His arms were around me as soon as we entered the shed, and I loved the rough feel of his beard as hungrily devoured each other’s mouths. It took as little effort on his part to push my tri suit over my shoulders as it did for me to reach inside his running sorts to grasp his rapidly growing cock. I wanted to suck him, but he had other ideas. Lifting me by the armpits, the runner picked me up and plopped me on the seat of a nearby tractor. As he set me down, he expertly pulled my tri suit past my hips and over my shoes. He then made a point of tonging my navel before plunging his tongue into my soaking pussy.

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of practice at this,” he said.

As he flattened his tongue against my clit and started lapping between that nob and my hole, I sure couldn’t tell. Within minutes, I was clamping my thighs and hands around his head as I came like a banshee.

Catching my breath, I slid from the tractor and, using his shirt as a pad, knelt before him. His cock was gorgeous: about seven inches in length, and it had to have been four inches in circumference. The head and shaft were perfectly proportioned, and it felt sooooo good sliding down my throat. I smiled up at him as I licked the length of the shaft.

“It’s been a while,” he said gently pulling me up by the chin, “and I want to be sure to be able to give you what you need.”

With that, he took the condom from where I had placed it on the tractor, unwrapped it, and allowed me to unfurl it down his erection. I turned, leaned my hands against the tractor, and soon felt the head of his penis at the entrance to my canal. I pushed back, and felt him fill me exquisitely. Not only did he have a great cock, but he knew how to use it. Varying his stroke length and pace, he soon had me on the edge of cumming again. My pussy clamped down around him, and we exploded together.

Both of our spasms subsided, and he tossed the used condom in a trashcan in the shed’s corner. He kissed me gently before pulling on his running shorts.



“Saturday around 4:00.”

“See you then.”

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