Monday, 28 March 2011

Bedtime tale #2

In Lycra ,Tight Lovers

The freshness of this Sunday morning in June made it the perfect day for pulling on my Lycra bike shorts and go riding on my new racing bike with my newfound bike shop friend. Jeb was an experienced rider who wanted to teach me how to get the most from my machine. Following him I tried to match his cadence and style.

Jeb wanted me to have a really good trip on my first long distance bike ride and he was leading me out to a secluded pocket of forest about 18 miles distant from my home using back roads in the Jersey pinelands. He kept up a pretty stiff pace, but I felt that I was being put to a test that would pay off for me in a big way. And if I felt like I was lagging behind, all I needed to do to regain my energy was to look at Jeb's ass showing itself in his sharp blue Lycra bike shorts. His ass glinting in the sun was like sucking on a sugar cube giving me lusty energy to draw me up alongside him.

Three days back, when I went into the bike shop to buy my first racing gear, my heart was pounding in excitement and my dick was pressing so hard in my jeans that I had to wear my tee shirt out to cover the state I was in. Why? The thought of tight Lycra shorts wrapped round my sex and ass turned me on. I have lots of baggy jeans, but it is my Speedo swim suit and my cross country skiing tights and my old standard 50l's that make me feel like a man. These shorts were a new thrill. All my masculinity is both contained and shown off in my tight stuff.

I'm not out yet--at least I don't think I am. Wearing skintight bike shorts is not something that only gay people wear, so I can enjoy my own sexuality without admitting to it.

I went back to the corner where the racks of shorts were and picked out a shiny black pair and took it to the tiny closet with just a drape for a door to try them on. Every time I try on tight pants I get a hard on and these shorts were the toughest pair of tight stuff I've ever had in my hands. They looked so small and yet my cock was sprung out as though it had eyes, as though it wanted these shorts as badly as I did.

Pulling them on for the first time, the sensation was like having a million fingers press upon my legs in a rising tide of fingers whose purpose was not to cover me but rather to hold my sex engine up to the eyes of guys whose link to me would come from their fingers added to these already touching me. Lycra is an invitation to play with me.

My only lover at this moment was myself indulged in a sweaty kind of masturbation that must not touch and must be hidden from the good-looking young store clerk who was busying himself in the racks just a few feet away. Since the mirror was outside the closet I had to quell the ardor of my cock and step out and dare to look at myself, smooth and ready for action.

The clerk looked up. In the mirror I saw Batman's Robin. The shorts were great and I was hooked.

"Hi, my name's Jeb. Are they all right? Can I get you a size larger?"

"Oh, I think they're ok."

With my saying this, Jeb came over and ran his finger around my leg telling me that most riders wear them closer to the knee. He looked up at me cute as hell--short, curly blonde hair and blue eyes and a mouth that was both frank and sensual.

When I tried on a new pair Jeb was close at hand and asked if I minded him checking the fit. Boy, did he check the fit! His hands ran down my ass and around my thighs. His eyes appreciated the soft leather padding of my crotch. Everything was quite OK.

Jeb and I struck up a real conversation that got me going. I liked him. He was a little older than I and I welcomed his offer to go out with me on some training rides. I'd say from what we were saying in body language and eye contact communicated the exact extent of the training. I felt a little dizzy from the underlying interest we were speaking about to one another. I wanted this unmentioned training more than I wanted bike training.

On the road Jeb signaled that we were going to turn off to his special stopping place. I pulled alongside him and we shared water from his water bottle. We passed it back and forth and it was clear that what we were doing was checking with each other to see if what we were clearly headed for was ok with the other. I gave him my eyes and he gave me his and added a guy-type punch to my shoulder. About a mile more and I will get to the place I've been longing for so many years.

We got to the place: It was an open sandy space beside a swim-able creek and under a stand of Jersey pine trees and holly. We rested our bikes against a tree and then I joined Jeb as we pulled down our shorts and pissed into the weeds. As we finished emptying our bladders our cocks began to thicken. Jeb just said simply, "I think we need to take these things off." I looked at him to make sure that we were agreeing to the same purpose. That beautiful Lycra was laid aside in the sand and Jeb took my hand.

In the embrace that followed I was kissed for the first time by another guy. I couldn't believe it that was clear because at first I didn't kiss him back--I was afraid. I was afraid of everything. But I held my ground and when he pressed a more passionate kiss upon my mouth I lost my fear and answered his kiss with one of my own as I began to pull him to me.

We stripped each other rapidly in the warm dappled sunlight of the pines. Our cocks were big, really big and unfettered by clothes, fears, and civilization. We stepped apart to look at each other. Do this and laugh. We did. What is funnier looking than a guy with his dick standing straight up. Ours were like pointers, each pointed to the other. We came together again, this time grinding our cocks upon each other and then it happened--Jeb's hand grasped my cock. No Lycra ever made is like the hand of your lover taking your cock in hand. For me this was the first time ever. "Uhhh--ahh!! Wow! Jeb! Don't let go!"

He took my hand and placed it upon his cock. The sensation of owning your own cock and owning another guy's cock is fantastic. I am you, you are I. Jeb backed me to a tree and got down on his knees to touch his lips to my glans tonguing away pearl drops of precum. I was so wiped by the feeling and by my gratitude that I drew my hands back and held onto the tree, but when he took me in his mouth entirely I was frozen in maxed-out pleasure. Him in my mouth.... I drew my hands from the tree and gave gentle touch to his curls, but when he took my balls in his hands I was blown to such an overload of pleasure that I needed to cum and I grabbed his ears so as pull him to deep throat and its wonders.

Sing of troubles in the waters, let ships plow in the wave. Let penis submarines shoot torpedoes. Hear the hollow clank of steel engaged in a hard war: No I choose the rushing waters. I choose the wild river. When I shoot it will not be death's torpedoes, but rather I will shoot the stuff of life. Jeb, do you hear me? I'm hard for you!

"Jeb, I can't hold it. Man, I'm gonna cream! Here it is--I'm cumming!!"

Jeb, filled his mouth with spurt again and again of my cum, drawing all of it into him with the passion of a man deprived of something that gives life. Deprived no longer and feeling full of love of my cock and of me entire, Jeb rose from his knees to share a lover's kiss with me.

I felt his ass with my hands--those wonderful globes of my rider. Then his back was to the tree and I began to do him by tonguing his nipples....

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