The morning was clear and crisp, the road ahead looked smooth and level. My legs were beginning to loosen up a bit, I figured after about 10 miles I would have a good cadence and be rolling along. The bike was light and fast, so this year I'd have no problems maintaining a good pace and be able to climb the hills that lurked below the horizon.
Up ahead I could see a group of riders, behind me was open road. As long as I kept in contact with them I felt it would be a good morning.
The first rest stop was uneventful, I exchanged pleasantries with various riders and found the hard boiled eggs, fruit and pound cake. I loaded up and headed out.
After a few moments lone figure appeared in my mirror. From that distance all riders look the same. So I paid no mind. Shortly the rider was directly in my draft. We introduced ourselves and exchanged the time of day.
Her name was Rebecca, "Becky". She was hard to see in the mirror, but from what I could see she was a strong cyclist. She smiled a lot and was very talkative.
She hailed from the east coast and had never been this far west before. She was finding the whole ride an eye-opener. The vastness of the high desert, the stark beauty of the terrain and the sound of it all. Or lack there of. She was somewhat taken back by the quietness. How truly silent the desert can be.
We chatted about ourselves, the people in our lives. We both griped about our partners, the way all relationships can be griped about.
We came upon the first big hill of the day. After some initial movement and switching back and forth, we found that our climbing skills were well matched, and we were able to pull each other up over the top. It ended up being a relatively short climb of about 2 miles. The downhill on the other side came just in time.
After we recovered our conversation picked up where it left off, and without realizing it we blew past the next rest stop.
The miles just seemed to float away. Before long lunch beckoned. And we responded.
Lunch with an large cycling group lends itself to large knots of people eating, talking and stretching out. We managed to find a quiet little corner away from the crowds and quietly ate our lunch together. It was at this point that I finally got a good look at her.
She was a woman of a certain age, one of those ageless women somewhere between 30 and 50, a ready smile, sparkling green eyes, auburn hair in a long braid down her back. A hint of silver in her hair made her just that much more attractive.
A word about cycling attire here. Spandex can in some rare cases can be very kind, but in most cases it will reveal every flaw, fold and wrinkle. For you members of the fairer sex it can also make package assessment very quick. To her, in my mind it was kind.
She was a woman in every sense of the word, a classic woman with curves that the spandex enhanced and revealed. She carried herself with an air of elegance, that was in no way snobbish, but was graceful and subdued. This is not easy in cycling shoes.
We chatted through lunch and agreed to finish the day together.
The rest of the late morning and early afternoon was a series of climbs and downhills which did not lend themselves to much chance for conversation, as we were either spinning up a hill or flying down another.
Upon reaching camp there was the usual mass confusion and people wandering about getting located and the like. After a few minutes of looking and discussion, we agreed to camp side by side.
We got our gear off of the trucks and proceeded to set up our portable accommodations - tents, sleeping bags etc. Once that was done, she observed that we might get a break in the shower line, seeing as dinner was being served. Peeking in that direction I found this to be correct, and we made a quick dash for the shortened shower lines and got in and out very quickly. It amazing what a shower and a shave can do for you.
But what I really found was what a shower and whatever it is that ladies do, did for her. She appeared at my tent a few minutes after I returned from my shower, positively glowing. Her hair was combed out and loose about her shoulders, her eyes appeared to drink me in, with long sensuous sips.
We went down to dinner and found a place to sit and talk. At one point during the meal she grazed my leg with her hand. The warmth of her touch was was soothing yet somewhat unnerving, and it gave me pause during the conversation. She smiled knowingly, and did not miss a beat.
As is with every night during this event the assembled throng goes to announcements to hear about what had been today, what is up for tonight and what will be for tomorrow. We found a spot where we could both hear and see if we needed to.
The sun was dipping close to the horizon and the air was becoming cool, as desert evenings are want to do. Half way thru the announcements I took her hand in mine, she squeezed my hand gently and leaned in close to me. The evening light, fading slowly made for a private moment in a public place.
We chose not to stay for the entertainment, but to return to our little corner and prepare for the next day. We both wanted to be out fairly early and as such there was some preparation to do. We got our water filled and our bikes ready to go. One final trip to the blue rooms and by now it was dark.
We walked back to our space and she came close to me and whispered:
"Would you like to come in for drink?"
She motioned to her tent, which was a 2 person tent, mine being a very small one person tent. In the dim light of camp I could see the devil in her eyes.
"I'd love to." I replied.
She unzipped the fly on the front of her tent and entered and motioned me to follow. I crawled in behind her and zipped up the fly. In the close quarters of the tent I could hear her breathing softly, the dim light highlighted her face with a soft glow.
She produced a small metal flask and poured a measure into my plastic cup, which until now had held coffee. She poured a similar measure into her cup. We clicked glasses and raised the cups to our lips. The warmth of the liquor in my mouth and down inside of me felt good. I reached my hand over and gently rested it on her thigh, feeling her soft skin on my finger tips. She lay back and held her arms out to me, beckoning me to join her.
Our lips met, tentatively at first, but then slowly our kiss became deeper and more insistent. Her hands began touching and wandering across my body, seeking and probing, touching and caressing. Finding the growing bulge in my shorts she smiled at me in the darkness, and began to remove my shorts so she could have better access. She touched my member and caressed it gently, weighing my balls in the palm of her hand.
My hands were not idle. Our clothing soon has found a corner of the tent, and after a few moments we were inside of her rather large sleeping bag, exploring each other in the dim light. Her breasts were full, smooth and soft, her nipples reacted to my touch and tongue. They stood out erect and pointed. My hands followed down her soft belly and found her sex, soft and fuzzy. I teased her gently before sampling her with a finger. She writhed a bit as I explored her most intimate place with my finger tips. She spread her legs a bit to allow me freer access. Her hands followed the contours of my body, pausing to tease my nipples and playing in the forest of hair on my upper body. As she does this I can hear her purring and cooing making little sounds.
We allow our bodies to intertwine, her legs tangling in mine. The touch of her skin is electric. Her fingers dance across my body and reach down to enclose my engorged cock. She get some amusement and pleasure touching, stretching and playing with my foreskin.
She gently pushes me on my back and slowly straddles my erect member. I can see her silhouette in the faint light, Her curves outlined as she sits on me. She is warm wet and wonderful. Slowly we slide our bodies together and then apart, I can feel her gentle squeeze and release. Leaning forward, she presses her soft breasts against my chest, her lips find mine in the darkness. Our tongues touch and tease, the age old dance.
During all of this we are very aware of people coming and going in camp. We both try as much a possible to be a quiet as possible, so as not to embarrass or offend. Our sex is slow and measured. Like our cycling, we found a cadence that allowed us to ride all night.
I'm awakened by the sounds of people stirring, tent zippers going up and down, people fumbling in the early time before the twilight of the morning. As my senses begin to process my surroundings I find her snuggled close to me, her slow deep breaths, telling me she is still asleep. In the early light I can see her fair skin as it disappears into the the darkness of our shared sleeping bag. Her legs still intertwined with mine. My hands traverse the softness of her skin, touching, caressing and exploring. I sense she is waking and I can feel my arousal stirring between my legs. Her eyes flutter open and she greets me with a smile followed by a short kiss - as we both have "morning breath".
My body is a bit stiff from the previous day's exertions and I stretch while still in the bag with her. After a yawn she too stretches her body and a breast slides out and the nipple instantly becomes erect in the morning cold. I cup her breast with my warm hand teasing her nipple. She reaches down to find my erect member and tut-tuts me for being so bold.
.... There is more of this story ...