Old Green Bike

[nespeedoguy]

Hot story s t s always fun to read and enjoy speedo time!

[a speedo minded guy]

STS, loving the story. Please continue

[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.

----------

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.

[nespeedoguy]

Good story can't wait to here about what happens next!

[Swimmboy]

Glad you are back writing about our favorite swimmers! And I'm happy to see Stormy starting to come around and join with his teammates. But looking at the map, it's a very long ride for Allen to get all the way to Patten - I think he will need a nice massage when he gets there!

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Allen rejoined state route 11, just north of Masardis, a tiny little collection of homes tucked against the river. The general store, the last real business in town had burnt down a year ago, its charred cement pad the only remains. The old green bike topped 32 miles per hour coming off the steep descent into town, well above the 25 speed limit. Allen pushed hard on the pedals, as he glided through town. He was a third of the way through the ride, feeling really strong. Heading the opposite way, a guy on a stealth looking BMC was coming fast. He was dressed in a white cycling kit with various red, blue and green logos. Allen watched as he approached, dropped down on aero bars and cutting the wind like a knife in soft butter.

As they passed, the cyclist nodded acknowledgment to Allen, who quickly recognized him as one of the two triathletes at the ice cream stand. "Hey Sky," Allen called out. If Sky heard him, he did not respond. Allen glanced back to watch as Sky ascended the steep hill with ease. Allen's veins filled with adrenaline, his competitive ego kicking in. Sky had been out for five hours and already had 110 miles behind him and 15 left to go. His white cycling kit, a one piece skin suit was soaked and looking a bit sheer. From a distance, the sheerness not visible, but up close his features were slightly visible. In a flash, Sky was up the hill and out of sight.

The climb to Oxbow is killer. A steep 9% grade out of Masardis becomes a steady grade for three or four miles. The road narrows, the lungs gasp, the quads burn, any arousal withers to a sweaty mess inside a Lycra grip. "This f.cking sucks," a gasping Allen said under his breath as every ounce of energy left him. He was hard pressed to push ten mile per hour. The easy ride became long, with a longer way to go. He sucked water from his bottle, the last few ounces that remained.

"He is almost here," Ricky called out to the group, which now numbered seven guys, all of them in some type of tight swimwear, and two girls, both in very skimpy bikinis. The group lined up, along the right side of the road where Oxbow Rd meets route 11. It had to be an unusual sight as seven guys in nothing but skimpy, bulging swimsuits created a rainbow of colors, interspersed with the two girls wearing barely there bikinis. Was it any wonder the bulges were so on display. The best part was each guy had a black letter painted on his smooth, hair free chest, which now spelled out GO ALLEN. Even Stormy was in the mix, his colorful square cut revealing his very prominent package. A car drove past, an older couple, who looked surprised and amused at the younger folks.

Allen rounded the final curve as the narrow road began a slight downhill toward the Oxbow turn. He had arranged with Ricky to meet, and he was ready for a refresh. His flashing front light was the first thing the group saw. "There he is!" Yelled one of the girls. A Bluetooth speaker blared a mix of sports jams, as the group lined the road, chanting "Allen, Allen...".

Allen's heart raced with excitement as he saw his teammates. He could not believe all of them were out there cheering him. As much as he was drained from the climb out of Masardis, his cycling shorts bulged with his arousal at the image of the hot guys in their swimsuits. He pumped one hand as he road toward the group. They surrounded him, cheering so loud every Moose in a ten mile radius heard them.

"You are doing awesome," Jake told Allen as the two guys hugged. Allen grew hard as their bulges touched. Jake did too, both showing in their tight Lycra gear. "How do you feel? Half way there?"

"Well, everything still works," Allen smirked as he said it, a direct reference to the aroused bulge he was sporting. Jake knew what he meant and they both smiled. "Not looking forward to the rolling hills after 212." The guys refilled his water bottles, acting as a pit crew. The two girls got Allen energy bars.

"Hey Stormy, hot looking suit," Allen complimented him. "Thanks for coming out," he added. Stormy still felt awkward with the group, but everyone was welcoming, even Jake, who had the most reason not to. Stormy gave Allen a thumbs up. He really did look hot in the suit, while a far less revealing suit than the briefs the rest of the guys wore, he was rocking it well.

The music started. The group lined up. Seven high fives later, Allen pushed off on the second half of his journey, his bulging shorts revealing his continued arousal as he bent over the bars of the old green bike. He still had a long ride ahead, through the segment known as Moose alley. He was still hard a mile into the ride.

[Swimmboy]

Really love the descriptions of the countryside - makes me feel like I'm riding right next to Allen! And of course the hot guys in their little, bulging swimsuits...