The Cyclist

By Paul Biffin

Published on Mar 26, 2024

Gay

One of my passions is to de-stress at the weekend by going for long cycle rides in the countryside. I am not one of the many ignorant cyclists who ride in the middle of the road and go through red lights. I drive the rest of the week, so know `live and let live', though some drivers have a death wish on cyclists

I wear lycra shorts and top. It feels so nice and shows off my slim body. Many times, I have been fantasising as I've ridden along and had to stop for a wank, usually behind a hedge or in a field. After I've finished, I shove my cock back in my shorts and a damp stain appears as the last drops of cum seep out. I also often need to piss, which is very much the same procedure. I rarely get home with dry shorts, which makes me even more horny. One time, I really needed a piss, but I was in an urban area. By the time I got into the countryside, I was so desperate, that I started going as I dismounted. I just let it run down my legs, holding the bike in front of me. Back on the bike, the damp material rubbed on my dick more and it wasn't long before I had a stiffy. The country lane was deserted, so I lay on a grassy bank, pealed down my wet shorts and stroked myself, shooting cum over my top. I put my dick away, dribbles of cum mixing with the piss stain. Once home, I hit the shower and the thoughts of ride made me cum again. This became quite a `thing' that I repeated often.

Then one time, after pissing, I lay on a bank at the side of the road. It was beautifully warm and I closed my eyes as I gently jacked. I must have drifted off, as I was awoken by another hand on my cock. A young guy of about 20 was lying beside me, my cock in one hand, his in the other. I wanted to stop him, but felt powerless. He bent down and took me in his mouth, still jacking the base of my dick. It didn't take long for me to fill his throat with jets of sperm. He then kneeled over me and came over my face.

We introduced ourselves. Jimmy lives quite close to me, so we cycled home together.

Once home we both showered, I lent him a T-shirt and shorts, I fixed drinks and we chilled in the garden for a while. I asked him if he had plans for the day. He winked and said it looked like they had changed, for the better and leaned over and kissed me. I put a hand on the back of his head and pulled him into me. Our lips parted and tongues swirled together. I showed him to the bedroom. We wasted no time undressing each other, falling on the bed, hands roaming everywhere. I told him we had all day, so we slowed down a bit, kissing and cuddling, ending up on our sides in a 69. My tongue licked his balls and explored behind them and up his crack. Finding his hole, he murmered in delight as my saliva lubed him up. I had to tell him to stop sucking me so much, I wanted to last a bit longer. We turned around and kissed some more as I used a finger or two to open him more, till he begged me to fuck him. I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube, squirted some on to his arse and more on my dick. He straddled me, guiding himself down on to my pole, then bent over so we could kiss. He bobbed up and down, wanking himself. I could feel my orgasm brewing, so I stopped and pulled out. He looked disappointed, but we lay beside each other, kissing again, trying to sustain things longer. I mounted him and re-entered him and began long, slow strokes, frequently stopping to kiss. We built up the pace, I was wanking him as we fucked. His grunts became louder till he took over the wanking and shot high into the air, the first jet clearing his head, the second on his chin, then covering his body. His cumming made him squeeze his arse muscles and I filled him in a series of pulses, collapsing on top of him, his juices running between us. We lay together and drifted off for a while.

Waking again, I made coffee and sandwiches. He put his own clothes back on, we exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up the following Sunday. I can't wait.

Next: Chapter 2


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