[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Allen is riding to Patten, we need to cheer him on," the text went out to the entire guys swim team. "Let's meet in Ashland". Ricky was determined to give Allen a whole cheering squad.

Allen had no clue what was in the works. He headed south along route 11, the abundant North Maine Woods along both sides of the road. He pushed up the climb out of Portage Lake, then enjoyed the steep downhill as he glided toward Ashland ten miles ahead. Logging traffic was almost nonexistent, which made Sunday a perfect day for long rides. The cool morning was turning warmer. The humidity was in the low 80's, which meant Allen's tight spandex cycling kit was already clinging to him, soaked in sweat. Ricky came up beside him, slowing to check on his rider. Allen looked so strong and lean, Ricky smiled at the image. Assured all was good by Allen's thumbs up, Ricky continued on toward the first rest stop.

"I'm in," came the text from Jake. Several other team members followed. Even Stormy said he would try to meet up later, which Jake took as progress. Ricky read each one, a bad move while driving, but a reality of his generation.

"Bring or wear your team suit," Ricky told them all, again texting at 60 mph. He rounded the bend, the Aroostook river to his left. It was full and flowing, reflective of the recent rain. Ricky pulled into the vacant lot where 11 made its left to Ashland. Allen was five miles back, rolling at 19.5 mph, a good pace for him, especially on the slight downhill stretch into town. He would increase that to 21 as he got closer.

Ricky hopped out of the truck, wearing a UMaine shirt over blue soccer shorts. Under he had on a brand new Q swimwear brief, brightly colored against a black background. It was his first time wearing it. He loved how it felt on. So much so, he yanked off the shorts, exposing the swimsuit, peaking out from his shirt. A spontaneous erection quickly filled the suit.

Stormy listened to Ricky's message twice, laying in bed. He was still wearing the jammers he had on last night. He was hard, his hand holding himself. "You really should do this," he said to himself. "Make the best of it," he added in his mind. He asked Siri how far to the school in Ashland, the designated meeting spot. When she replied thirty three minutes he knew he had little time. He jumped from the bed, his boner succumbing to the urgency of the situation. He grabbed his tote of swimsuits and headed into the shower.

"Be there," came the short text. A reply from Stormy that Ricky never expected. In all, six guys from the team were in. As Ricky set the phone back in the truck, a hot and handsome Allen guided the old green bike into the lot.

"I feel great," Allen said as he stood over the bike, the crossbar almost touching his bulging crotch. "Hot, twenty miles in, sixty to go." Ricky refilled his water bottles. It was not exactly the refuel on the fly of the Tour de France, but it was a support team. "Looks like someone got a new swimsuit," Allen noticed.

"Yeah, I really like how it feels on," Ricky replied, as he pulled up his shirt to show it off.

"You look great in it, you should ditch the shirt,". Allen replied. It was clear Ricky was still aroused.

"Maybe later," Ricky replied. After a five minute break, Allen pushed off. He headed straight, skipping the turn into Ashland. Instead, he would follow Garfield Road along the ridge. He had a couple mile gentle climb, but the view from the high range was fantastic. Ricky headed left to town, excited to join the other guys from the team. Even Jake had given up a day with Lizzie to cheer on his best friend.

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The red Miata sped along route 163 toward Ashland, but this time Stormy obeyed the speed limit through Mapleton. Stormy wore a very tight cropped Lycra blend shirt over a MP square cut print swimsuit. It was the first time wearing it, in fact the first time he wore a suit other than a jammer. He debated it for several minutes, before deciding it was time for a new image. He and AJ had bought the more revealing suits, intended for a private weekend that never happened. Being used to jammers, Stormy felt awkwardly naked. Stormy had no clue the pickup truck following him was Jake, along with Devon.

"Isn't that Stormy?" Devon asked. "There is no way he'd come do anything with the team," Devon added. .

"Maybe Ricky invited him, he was really trying to get Stormy involved," Jake replied. "Hopefully he is not being his usual jerk."

The Miata and the truck followed each other into the gravel lot of the Ashland grocery store, a smaller, independent market that looked exactly like one would expect in a rural community thirty minutes from nowhere. Most of the team of guys were already there, most in shorts, but a few daring ones in various team suits. The few shoppers didn't seem to mind either form of attire. The team converged on the sport drinks and snack food aisles with the boundless enthusiasm that comes with youth on a free day from practice. The shopping cart looked aced with all the essentials, they headed for the register.

Andrea was a cute girl with short tan hair, dimples and a sweet smile. Her delight showed when the pack of cute guys lined up before her, some in cute swim team suits. All of them hot. Warm tingles ran through her. "Hi guys," she said somewhat bashful. "Must be a swim meet today?" She asked as she started keying in the items in the old register. The guys all chuckled, realizing they must look pretty out of place in their suits.

"No, but we are the support crew for a guy doing an eighty mile bike ride?" Devon replied. He found Andrea sweet. So sweet he was getting hard in his tight swimsuit. Right now, he wished he had shorts, or at least a longer shirt. Andrea noticed, her eyes checking out his growing bulge.

"Wow, that must be pretty hard," she replied, not intending the pun. Devon blushed anyway.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, answering to both the ride and himself.

"Well, have fun guys,". Andrea said as they loaded the last of the bags in the cart. The guys headed out, but Devon stayed back. There was no one in line. He learned she was 19, lived right in town. She smiled when Devon said he was 18, lived over in Washburn, and thought she was cute. They exchanged cell numbers when she accepted his offer to go out sometime. Devon left, harder than ever, and excited to get to know the cute cashier.