[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Allen was totally fried when he finally reached the crest of the hill just south of Patten. The sun was high over Mt. Katahdin and this time he took in the view. He shifted in his seat, adjusting to ease the agony between his legs. “How the crap do they ride day after day,” he mumbled to himself thinking of the Tour de France. He had a hard time accepting that his body, especially that part of it would adjust. Of course, they also did not ride 40 year old bikes with antiquated seats. Still, he loved the old green bike, it was the ride he was mad at.

The steep downhill gave him speed. The wind cooled him, his wet Lycra gear drying as he road. He hit 34mph, his highest so far, ever, in fact. The old wheels vibrated in the wind and the bike shimmied a bit. One short steep drop to go.

“Hot Damn,” Allen yelled. A rush of adrenalin shot into his veins. He was at 99 miles with One to go. He hit the steep drop, a short bump that he took in the smallest back ring, pedaling hard. The bike swayed as he went above 40. He was a man on a mission. The arrousal that had stayed with him since his turn, started growing, despite all the agony of crushed balls. “Thank you,” he said to himself as he felt his anatomy grow. This was one Lycra wrapped erection he was happy to see. Everything was still working, at least it seemed that way.

“He is back,” Jake said. The girls had long left, catching rides with the rest of the team. It was now just the four guys, still in swimsuits. Their chests and shoulders getting burned. Allen pedaled hard to the finish. He actually finished stronger than before. He shot past the gang, rolling into the park across from the ice cream stand. Just as Allen started to slow, his right leg cramped. He could not move it as the muscles in his calf knotted. He screamed out in pain. Unable to free himself from the pedals, the bike glided to a stop, at which point Allen toppled to the left.

“Shit, he fell,” yelled Ricky. The guys all ran to the bike. Allen was laying on his side, still clipped in. He was grabbing his right leg. The guys surrounded him, as did a few others.

“Dude, are you okay?” Jake asked.

“Cramps,” Allen replied as his left leg also seized. “Can one of you unhook me from the bike?” Allen asked. “I can’t move!” The guys pulled him free of the bike and gently massaged his legs. Slowly Allen stood straight. The guys carried Allen, arms wrapped on each of Jake and Ricky’s shoulders.

The long ride was over. This time for real.

Xxxxxx

Sherie was at work when the picture came through on her phone. She opened it to see a very hot looking Chris, his manly bulge just like she remembered, wearing her favorite suit. An urge of erotic desire rose in her. “So cute,” she said to herself. She tapped the save photo option, securely keeping the photo in her “Hot Chris” album. This one joined dozens more she had collected as her desires for Chris rekindled. All but two were of him in swimsuits, most where he was aroused.

“You look damn hot,” she texted back. Chris had not yet seen the reply.

Sherie scrolled through her album, taking each picture in. She did this almost daily. He looked so handsome, in some so aroused and masculine. “No guy looks as great in a tiny swimsuit,” she thought to herself. She hoped Chris would invite her up. It had been a long time since she saw him, hugged him, felt his body wrapped in hers. It had been longer since she had seen his world of Aroostook County. She was making herself fill with desire. Desire she would need to take care of.