Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, Humor, Group Sex, .
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Bicycles, pretty ladies, and one lucky guy, what more could you ask for? The adventures of Nate and his 'ride harem' on the road.
In one of those rare confluences of weather and luck this weekend, especially Saturday, was shaping up to be prime riding conditions. For a cyclist, a weekend of clear crisp skies, and no wind was nirvana. This was shaping up to be an epic weekend.
Normally the South Sound Bike Club held its big event training rides on alternate weekends. The purpose of these training rides was to prepare both new and experienced cyclist for the upcoming summer of longer multi-day events, everything from the two-day Seattle to Portland, up to and including the SSBC's own four-day Cascade Classic in August. The Cascade, or 'Crashcade' as veterans of the event called it, was a ride over three mountain passes followed by a final day of rolling terrain riding to form a box route that brought the riders back to their starting point.
The reason it was nicknamed the 'Crashcade' was the fact that each day started with a climb up a mountain pass, a great lunch at the summit, and then a descent down the other side of the mountain pass. It was during the descent that most of the accidents happened. Usually a new rider would get a little too tired and a little too full of themselves and rip off a descent that they couldn't control. This usually ended in 'bad things happening' to the rider in question. This was also the reason that the sports drink that was served, which happened to be fruit punch red, was referred to by old hands as 'Road Rash Punch'.
Nick and I looked over the herd of new riders and then looked at each other as if to say "WTF?" and then grinning I stepped into the chaos and shouted to get everyone's attention. "Okay, if you have all signed in on the waiver form? Great! I'm Nathan, or Nate for short, and I'm one of the ride leaders of the SSBC training series. You are members of the 'Blue Crew' which means that we will be riding at a pace of between 16 and 18 miles per hour. I trust that most of you really have no idea what you have gotten yourselves into?" General muttering and a smattering of laughter met this remark. "Okay, here is the drill. First rule, the ride leader is always right and always first in line. Second rule, no one is left behind. My co-leader is Nick over here," and Nick took a bow, "and Nick will be riding the point today. That means that he will always be on the front. No one should ride ahead of him unless you are in the wrong pace group and want to grab the tail end of the group in front of him, or you really know where you are going and are leaving the group. If you are leaving make sure Nick knows it. I will be riding the sweep and hang around at the back of our pack. Should you have any sort of mechanical issues I will try and get you back on the road. If it takes too long for you to sort out your issues, and depending in which is the shortest distance, you may be advised to return to the start point, or call for the broom wagon. Oh, wait, there is no broom wagon on this ride, so you'll have to call for assistance. Everyone have "AAA"? Okay, one last time, my name is Nate and the point today is Nick. Any questions?"
A young woman in a small knot of young women stuck her hand into the air. "Yes, you in the blue helmet, oh and can you give us your name when you ask a question so that we can start to get to know each other?"
"Nate, I'm Meredith," she said with a hint of a giggle, "and my question is how far are we going today and what's the ride like?"
"Good question, Meredith. The ride today is forty miles and it is on 'rolling terrain' just like the web page announcement said it would be. Everybody knows what rolling terrain means right? It is a code word for more hills that go up than down!" Everybody laughed at that old joke, like I knew they would. "Any other questions?" After a few other procedural questions like "when do we stop for lunch?" or "how far to the first rest stop?" the faster group had already rolled out so it was our turn to hit the road. As the slower group was also waiting for us to move out so they could have their brief.
Each of the three pace groups left at ten minute intervals, so that the next slowest group would overtake you if you had to stop for a mechanical, or had selected a pace group that was too fast, and you could ride with them until the next regroup point or through to the end. Nick and I had lead these groups for a couple of seasons now, and it was always the same. About a third of the folks that signed into your group were too fast and ended up nipping at the point riders heels all day, and a third were too slow but refused to see it, or had been dragged into the faster group by a stronger riding companion. Normally after a couple of rides things got pretty much sorted out and then you could work on offering tips and training ideas to riders that rode well together. Also, friendships were formed and teams were pulled together for the longer rides. Riding a couple of hundred miles on a bike by your self was pretty lonely and boring work. Riding with friends was much better.
Nick headed out onto the road right on time and the herd struggled to sort themselves out for the first few miles. Generally we rode in single file, and it always took a bit for everyone to sort themselves into some sort of order on the road. All the faster riders tended to cluster at the front, and spent most of their time jockeying for position right behind the point rider. And the slower ones always climbed slowly and had to be pulled back to the main group, usually by the sweep rider, who today was me.
This wasn't that bad a deal, since I was a pretty strong rider and could spend all day pulling riders back if I had to. When I had been a racer that had been my role in the Peloton, spend all day pulling the sprinters and 'glory boys' around the countryside and then get dropped at the end by the sprint for the finish. Besides, riding at the back had another side benefit, looking at all the nice firm butts in spandex! Now, don't get me wrong, here. Not everyone looks good in spandex. In fact some people defy the laws of physics, and good taste, by jamming a twenty pound loaf of butt into a ten pound spandex bag. Yikes! But, a nice toned female backside in spandex to look at all day long is about all the motivation I need anymore. And it was just my luck that Meredith and her friends seemed quite happy to ride at the back of the pack. There were a total of five of them, all in their mid twenties and all in pretty good shape. Most of them seemed to know how to ride, to varying degrees, and looked as if the pace was good for them as well. I was settling in to an afternoon of watching firm gluteus move, when the first mechanical of the day happened.
Like clockwork, you can pretty much bet that someone, no matter how many times you remind them, will not have their tires fully inflated. It also holds that this rider will not be able to handle their bike well, and will find every rut and pot hole on the road. Since under inflated tires are pot hole magnets, it follows that the rider without the skills, or most likely the tools, tire pump, or ability to change their own tire, will have the first flat of the ride. It looked as if Murphy had his first victim of the day, a nice older couple on cross trainer bikes. With a wistful sigh, I swung off the back of Meredith's wheel and rolled back to the couple on the side of the road.
Ten minutes, a spare tube from my saddle bag, and fully inflated tires courtesy of my frame pump later, they were ready to roll out again. By then the front of the fourteen to sixteen pace group was in sight, and I made sure they knew to latch onto that group. In a way this wasn't fair to Kevin, the ride leader of the 'Yellow Slugs', turning over what would probably become another headache for him, but, I wanted to go catch some butts! For the next twenty minutes I rode a blistering thirty mile an hour pace and caught back onto the end of my group in short order. I rolled all the way up to Nick to let him know I was back on, and then drifted back to 'tail gun Charlie' and the lovely Meredith. When I got to their cluster, I stopped drifting and held position on their left.
"Ladies, how is everyone so far? Pace okay? Anything ya'll need?"
"Hi Nate!" said a pretty blonde in a pink helmet with a ponytail sticking out of the back. "I'm Anne, by the way"
"Pleased to meet you Anne," I said, "You doing okay so far?"
"Super!" she said with such conviction I knew she had to have been a cheerleader at some point in her life. As if she were the social director of the group, she started to introduce each of her friends. "Meredith you already know" and Meredith smiled briefly before returning her attention to the road. The other blonde is my twin sister Lizzie."
Lizzie was a carbon copy of Anne. How I could have missed that was beyond me. It wasn't everyday that you saw two trim, fit blondes with dazzling smiles that were mirror images of each other.
"Our token brunette is Amanda" And Amanda waved her hand briefly before pulling even with Meredith. "And our lone redhead here is Melinda." Melinda was one of those rare red heads with the rich strawberry blonde hair and the porcelain fine skin that almost glowed in the sun. When she smiled my heart nearly skipped a beat as it made her look so beautiful. God in heaven, where have these beauties been hiding, and how can I keep them in my group?
"So," asked Lizzie, "how long have you been riding Nate?"
"Well, let's see? I started racing in high school at sixteen, and I raced through college. Then I turned pro at nineteen and raced for another ten years until I got too beat up racing and 'retired'. Pro racing is a young man's sport, and we old timers can't keep up with the young bucks!" Both Anne and Amanda snorted at the last bit.
"Old," muttered Meredith. "You're what, twenty-nine now?"
"The big 'three-o' on my next birthday later this summer. Then it's all downhill from there into a barcolounger, right?" I said with my best saucy grin! "I'm too old for the professional racing scene anymore, and too young for masters racing. Sort of a no-man's land, so I ride these rides to keep in some sort of shape and wait for my social security and retirement checks to come rolling in." All five of them laughed at that one.
"So Gramps, what's it like to be sooo old?" teased Lizzie to much laughter. "You remember the discovery of dirt do you?"
"I remember the good old days," I said in a quavering voice, "When pretty girls would line up to watch us race. Now all I get is back talk from them!"
"It's called sass, Sir," said Amanda, in a mock sincere voice, "Sass is what's needed here!" The good natured ribbing carried on all the way to the first rest stop. I think I gave as good as I got, but I was clearly out numbered. And I didn't mind a wit!
The teasing and flirting went on for the entire remainder of the ride. Any time one of us would make a comment, no matter how innocent it might seem, someone else would find a sexual overtone for it and a great deal of laughing and embarrassment would then ensue. For example, I innocently asked if everyone was getting enough to drink, you know water or sports drink. I mean hydration is important you know. And Amanda pipes up, in a sickly sweet southern bell voice, with, "Why Nate, are you asking us out to drinks? Ya'll plan to wine, dine and take advantage of us sweet innocent women?"
After I stopped choking, having been drinking from my own bottle at the time she delivered it, I replied, "A gentleman would never dream of taking advantage of a sweet and innocent lady such as ya'll, unless of course you require assistance meeting your needs ... for hydration that is!" The laughter this comment set off could probably be heard at the front of the group. Eat your heart out Nick!
By the time we had arrived back at the park where this ride began, the six of us had become riding buddies. We had agreed to ride the Seattle to Portland as a team and to ride the Cascade Classic as one as well. For the STP I would arrange rooms at the half way point, with Meredith making arrangements for the overnight in Portland. For the Crashcade we would be roughing it in tents, so everyone would be bringing their own camping gear and we would build a little tent city in each town the traveling circus this tour became when it over-nighted in some small eastern Washington town.
But first, we needed to get more training rides under our belts. I knew I could do 200 miles in two days no problem, however only Meredith and Anne had ridden anything near that long before, and none of the other three had gone farther than 50 miles. I said goodbye to my newly formed 'ride harem' and told them I would see them next weekend for the fifty miler through the valley and up into the foothills. I told them it would be an 'experience'. Little did I know how true my prediction would be... ?