The Bicycle Experiment 2.0: Escalation

As the result of the most recent race where I encountered my favorite dirty lad on two wheels followed by a series of saucy messages sent back and forth, I’ve had this scenario running through my mind.

Context: I was pre-riding the course so I’d have some idea of what I was getting into (as this was one of the rare occasions when I got to the race early enough to do a pre-ride). Almost out of nowhere, I hear a voice behind me during the wooded section.

Him: (casually) Fairy dust, huh? [I had posted online that I was going to throw glitter at hecklers the evening prior.]
Me: (slightly breathless due to trying to keep up a good clip through the woods) Yeah.
Him: (still casual) I want you to get it all in my mouth.
Me: (breathless because I’m trying to keep him off my wheel) I bet you do.
Him: (promptly passes me as soon as we get out of the woods with little effort)

At the same race, I continued my “sexual/romantic espionage” and found that he was almost universally despised by many of the ladies in the cycling scene. This is because he has a reputation of being a bit of a heartbreaker. After he wiped out on a particularly treacherous part of the course, one of my friends even said “I hope he gets hit by a truck.” I was strongly advised to stay away from him… and of course you know what effect that has on someone as impetuous as me. As evidenced from last year’s Bicycle Experiment, I clearly know how to pick them. Why are the bad boy heartbreakers so much more fun? Still, I pre-rode the course, so at least I have some idea of the treacherous terrain I’m about to ride.

In a later online chat:

Me: (after he accidentally typed the word “sexrect” instead of “secret”) not a very subtle slip there, [name redacted]. I don’t have to be a psychic to know what’s on your mind.
Him: I’ve been all work and no play for nearly the whole CX season. I can’t help where my mind goes
Me: well then. I just wish I rode faster so I could help you in both departments.
Him: i highly doubt riding faster would help in both.
Me: well, i would have at least wanted to give you something to chase in the woods
i know you barely even had to try if you wanted to overtake me
Him: i’ll overtake you anytime

Almost like my prior fantasy, it seems like the tables are turning. I had been chasing him. Now he seems to be chasing me, literally in the case of last week’s pre-race. I can’t help but wonder if he’s actually a regular on this board, but just never posts since he seems to know exactly what to do/say to make my heart pound and blood burn even when I’m not riding.

The fantasy:

Before I was La Fee Verte, that mischievous creature who shows up when you’ve had too much absinthe, I was the girl in the red cloak… which really isn’t practical for riding, despite what the stories say. Yet I was wearing it while riding through the woods on a brisk afternoon to practice my handling. Autumn meant that the sun would be setting soon, but I had my lamp to guide me and keep me on the path. There was nothing but the smell of damp earth, the cold breeze on my skin and the crackling sound of leaves and twigs beneath my wheels keeping me company… or so I thought.

Whatever it was, it was coming in hot. The sound was like the forest itself was crashing behind me. I kept pedaling, but looked over my left shoulder and was met with a flash of grinning teeth.

“Hey there.”

“Hey.” I moved slightly to the right on the path to let him pass, but he stayed behind me.

“Lovely evening.” When did the sun go down? How was the moon so big?

“Sure is.” I gasped. What was this guy’s deal? He obviously wanted to ride fast, so why wouldn’t he just pass me already?

I continued looking ahead to make sure I wasn’t about to crash into a tree. I looked behind me to see that he was practically on my wheel. I knew that if I had slowed down slightly or moved to the side, even if he tried to wheel bump me, he would have been more likely to wipe out than me. Still, that would have been discourteous.

“Where are you heading?”

“I just came out here to practice my handling.”

“I enjoy this park, secluded and full of curves.”

I started to get the idea. “I bet you’re really good at handling curves.”

“I just love leaning in real close, don’t you?”

I continued looking ahead, there was a sharp fork. I shifted gears and bolted as best as I could. He was still barely even trying to keep up. Still, he wasn’t a mind reader. I leaned like I was going into the right turn and unclipped, but then suddenly turned my handlebars left. I kicked my left leg out to lean in the opposite direction and went slightly off the path as I took the left turn. I heard the buzz of his front tire against my rear for a moment and thought I heard him fall.

I cranked it like my life depended on it. I didn’t bother looking behind me to make sure he had fallen. I just went straight ahead. I briefly considered going off the path, but he could easily follow the beam of my headlight and I certainly wasn’t going to turn the light out in unridden territory. Still, I couldn’t turn my headlamp off on the path either as it was very dark. Then I remembered the hunter’s moon overhead. I switched off my lamp and slowed down as my eyes started to adjust to the moonlight.

It was now or never, I could hear the thunderous sound of thick tires on forest debris behind me. I veered off the path into the thicker trees. This was clearly a mistake as my handling skills still left much to be desired and he was getting even closer.

“Thought you lost me back there? I love getting a good chase.” I could practically feel his lips at the back of my ear, but when I turned around, he was still just barely at my wheel.

This momentary distraction caused me to not see a branch up ahead. I barely ducked in time, but my red cloak got caught on it. Stupid me for choosing style over function again. I felt myself fall to the right, but undid the tie that held it at my throat before it could choke me. I unclipped again as I stood up and tried to stand. As I hopped on my bike, I knew something was wrong. The handlebar wasn’t turning, or at least, the handlebar was in the opposite direction from where my front wheel was facing. I dropped the bike and turned to run, but there he was, leaning against a tree, still clipped into his pedals. Grinning, gorgeous and terrible in the moonlight.

“My, what big legs you have.”

“The better to chase you with, my dear.” He unclipped and set his bike against the tree before taking a few steps closer.

“My, what strong hands you have.”

“The better to catch you with, my dear.” He grasped my wrist with one hand and then gently brushed his fingertips along my neck with the other.

He licked his teeth.

I trembled. “My, what a long tongue you have.”

“The better to eat you with, my dear.”

Where his fingertips had led, his tongue followed. I could feel him lick the spot where my pulse was pounding. He bit at my throat as he unzipped my jersey, wresting it off and tossing it to the ground. My hands shook as I tried to follow suit. He caught my hands with his and pinned them behind my back. He licked and bit at my shoulders, my breasts from over the material of my sports bra, likely cursing the barrier. He kissed down to my stomach as he slid the straps of my bib shorts off of my shoulders. I was completely exposed to the cold night air, the moonlight and his ravenous appetite.

Instinctively, I had tried to hold my knees together, but he made quick work of parting them. I felt the rasp of his five o’clock shadow against my thighs as he spread my legs. I have to admit, sometimes I lift slightly out of my saddle when riding on particularly bumpy surfaces. That was nothing compared to this. His tongue slid around and inside me with ease. I was already soaking wet from riding and from the chase. I felt the tip of his tongue flicker and then dive deep. I swooned against the tree, closed my eyes and let the crash happen. They always tell you to look where you want to go and not where you think you’ll crash, but I actually wanted this fall. He was relentless, devouring me as if he was starving.

When I noticed he had stopped, I opened my eyes. He was naked, each hard sinew beneath pale skin highlighted by the moonlight. Despite getting a taste of me, his appetite did not seem to have diminished from the look in his eyes. I could feel him breathing heavily against me as he lifted me against the tree. I didn’t care about the pain of the scrape against my back or if any other night riders might be able to see us from the trail. All I wanted was his cock inside me.

I threw my arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he fucked me. I could feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the thickness of his cock filling me. He kissed me, bit me and I followed suit. His cadence only got faster, his thrusts, harder. I sank my nails into his back and bit his shoulder to keep from crying out. I could taste the sweat on his skin, smell the heat from his body coming off in waves. I heard his sharp gasps as he came.

After we sorted out whose kit was whose, I made quick work of mending my handlebar so I could ride again.

“Same time next week?”

“Sure. Excellent form out there.”