Old Green Bike

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

The flashing blue lights went on as the Maine state trooper came upon the cluster of near naked, swimsuit wearing gang of now ten clustered at the weigh station just north of the intersection with Route 212. The weigh station was hardly ever used, except as a meeting point and a spot for the police to take radar. It mostly sat empty. "What's going on here?" the middle aged officer asked. He scoped them out with a stern, scolding stare.

"Our teammate is riding to Patten," Jake started to answer. "We are his support team and cheering him on."

"Riding what?" The officer asked.

"A bike, you know, the kind you pedal," Jake replied, not intending for his answer to come out as sarcastic as it did.

"You getting smart with me?" The officer asked.

"No sir," Jake quickly assured him. "I said that to distinguish his bike from a motorcycle." The explanation made sense and seemed to ease the tension.

"What is with the swimsuits, speedos?" the officer asked.

"We are all on swim team together," Devon took over answers. "It seemed like a fun idea, but I guess it does look weird."

"Certainly raises an eyebrow," the officer replied, now grinning. "So how far away is your buddy?"

"We guess he is pretty close," Devon replied.

"Well, let's give him a real welcome!" The reply took the team off guard, as the police officer pulled his cruiser out to the side of the road. When he got back out of the car, he motioned for the team to line up on the pull out road. "I was on swim team back in the day, still do swim, too," the officer replied. "What is your friend's name."

"Allen," replied the whole team. Just as they said it,Allen's flashing front light came into view. "There he is!" Everyone yelled. The police car maneuvered diagonal in the road, lights flashing.

"Way to go Allen," the officer called through the car's intercom. The team cheered and yelled as Allen approached. The officer got out of the car and directed Allen into the left turn to the weigh station. He then followed behind. The team surrounded Allen as he dismounted the bike.

"You all be careful," the officer said as he wheeled the cruiser around and blew the siren. He left as fast as he showed. "Gotta love swimmers," he said to himself as he headed north up the two lane road.

--------

Chris was sitting on the back porch of his rented two bedroom house in Fort Fairfield, near where he grew up. He was wearing a very colorful Bang swim brief he had just bought on line. He loved how the suit fit him, and made him feel aroused. He was scanning his iPad, reading the latest tweets from swimming world on some world class swim meet. The chime of a new email did not startle him, but who it was from did. The subject line read "memories and mistakes". It was from Sherie, the girl he dated for three years of college, starting with band practice before his Europe trip, at the college he would eventually swim for. The college his attraction to Sherie pulled him to. The break up wasn't ugly, rather it was sudden. Sherie said she wanted something different, something more. She was cute, the romance was hot. When the breakup happened Chris was devastated.

Sherie attached three photos of the two of them, at a lake right after they met, in Paris, and at a college meet. The common thread in all of them was how hot she looked and how hard he was in his swimsuit. He smiled at how much she drove him wild. The images and the memories caused him to grow hard in the tight and tiny swimsuit. Even the thought of her drove him horny. "I think about you everyday, how sweet you are, how stunning you look, and how you made me feel," Sherie wrote. "I hope you are happy. If you ever want to get together, know I am willing."

Chris read the note several times over. He smiled at the idea of a rekindled romance. He wondered what brought on the inquiry. He laid back in the lounger and closed his eyes. A response would come later. He had to think it through.

---------

"Twenty miles left, how do you feel?" Jake asked Allen, hand on Allen's sweaty Lycra wrapped shoulder. Allen looked hot, salt residue from his sweat lined his face. It was clear the ride was getting long now, and taking its toll. Allen gulped down water as if he had been stranded in the desert. He even poured half a bottle over his head.

"I am good," Allen replied, confidently. He knew the next segment would be the hardest. It was the last one, and by far the hilliest portion. He ate an energy bar, feeling the blood start flowing into his male parts, causing him to grow the bulge showing in his bib shorts. He rubbed himself with the free hand.

Ricky and Devon reached between his legs, slipping the refreshed water bottles into their holders, sixty ounces of diluted replenishment fluid that would be long gone by the time he hit Patten. "Thanks," Allen said.

After a fifteen minute break, Allen mounted the old green bike, his seat pressing into his crotch. He did a slow rolling u-turn and headed back out to route 11. The team cheered and yelled encouragement as Allen made the left onto the main road. He was off on the last leg of his journey, his energy raved by the support of the team. As he passed the 212 intersection he began a long and winding downhill, his speed pushing near 30 between braking for the curves. The downhill run was nice, but it hinted of the tougher climbs to come. For the first time in the ride, Allen was ready for the end, the chance to get off the bike, and free of the tight grip of the spandex outfit. Maybe even get into a very skimpy swimsuit for some post ride fun.

[Swimmboy]

I liked the way the officer interacted with the boys in their suits. And the fact he himself was/still is a swimmer! And Chris - we haven't seen him for a while now - glad to know he may re-enter the story. I really liked reading about his exploits on the European trip.

[a speedo minded guy]

STS

Loving the story. Please continue!!!

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

"You like wearing those tiny swimsuits," Stormy asked more as a statement than a question. He was still wearing the MP square cut he started the day in. Ricky was in the hot looking Q Swimwear suit, still showing a nice package, both guys were. "I have never worn one," Stormy added.

"Yeah, I think they are really cool," Ricky replied. "Not for everyone, I guess." The two guys passed Allen as he rolled down a steep hill, he looked authentic cyclist as he tucked low on the bars to take advantage of the speed. "Look at him go," Ricky shifted the subject. Ricky's eyes wandered from Allen to Stormy, the way he looked all aroused in the tight suit. Stormy's hand somewhat masking the erection he was still sporting. "You look great in that suit, you would rock a smaller suit," Ricky shifted back to the topic at hand.

"Maybe," Stormy replied. "All the guys on my old team wore jammers, but seeing all of you in those racer suits..." Stormy gave Ricky a smirk. He never finished, Ricky knew what he was going to say.

"Well, I like you in jammers, too," Ricky replied. "You look wicked hot in anything."

"Thanks, man. So do you." Stormy replied, blushing and more aroused. He felt himself get full on hard, even a little wetness seeping out. If they kept talking he was going to loose control right there. Ricky slid his right hand onto Stormy's leg. Up high, very high. Stormy reclined back in the seat. "Oh man," he moaned. Ricky knew he was going to make Stormy go crazy. Exactly his plan.

-------

The climb through Mount Chase was brutal. Mount Chase was the last big hill, an endless climb that came late and long in the ride. Allen was beat, his Spandex cycling kit was soaked, clingy, and feeling grimy more than comfortable. His legs screamed for it to be over, so did his mind. He was pushing hard in the small ring up front and the big ring back, the old derailleur system grinding at the extreme setting. Top speed was 6.5, but Allen did not care. He was happy to be upright and moving.

A car full of girls, probably tourists, came by and honked and screamed. About caused him to fall. In his agitation, Allen mustered a hand gesture back at them. "Bull shit," he yelled. The sun was hot, the day was long and he still had the hardest of the hill to go, a half mile 12% grade that would about do him in. He looked down at the road, watching the white line slowly move beneath his front wheel. He was up, off the seat, pushing all he could to keep enough momentum to stay upright. Sweat filled his eyes and poured from his face. The crossbar of his bike soaking in the sweat dripping off him.

"You got this!" The voice pushed adrenaline into Allen's veins. He pushed harder. "Keep going, you are nailing it!" the voice called again. Allen was just a few hundred feet off the crest. He finally looked up to see Chris, standing outside his handsome F150 wearing nothing but his white Zumo California Republic brief, the one Sherie liked. It was like seeing a mirage in the desert. Allen smiled, a big grinning smile. He finally crested the hill. Chris grabbed the bars holding the bike upright. Allen was too tired to even unclip the pedals.

"Wow, that was an impressive climb!" Chris complimented Allen. "You rocked that!" Chris held the bike steady as Allen caught his breath. The salt was caked on his face, the remnants of his hard climbs the last few miles in the heat of the day.

"That f..king sucked," Allen gasped out. "But, I made it!" Allen slowly I clipped his left foot, then his right and stood over the bike. His shorts were dripping with the sweat that had drained off his face and arms in the 72% humidity. His masculine odor permeated the air. Allen was totally drained. If he could get off the bike now, he would.

Chris raised up a gallon of water. "Ready?" He asked. Allen nodded as the water came streaming over him, a welcome relief of fresh, cool, clean wonderfulness. A second gallon followed, as the spandex kit clung to Allen's body, wet and refreshed. The feeling was awesome.

-----

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Lizzie sat in the middle of Jake's truck as they headed south toward the big finish in Patten. She smiled at her situation, riding between two guys wearing skimpy little swimsuits and her in a bikini that barely covered her. She reflected on how freaked out her mom was about Jake the first time he went to her house in his swimsuit. If only she saw her daughter now, Jake to her left and Devon to her right, Devon didn't even have his shirt on. A cute guy totally naked but for the tight two inch band of Lycra that bulged over his anatomy. Both guys looked so damn hot, the usually aroused Lizzie could hardly control herself. She studied how Devon's suit showed every detail of his male parts, even the cut line. She wondered if he was horny, the way he was bulging in the suit. He certainly looked hard. Devon wasn't, but he made suits look well filled out.

"Allen's coming up on the right," Jake announced. He was just starting the climb toward Mt. Chase, before he hooked up with Chris. "He looks like he is riding good," Jake added.

"He must be close to 75 miles now," Devon observed. The sight of Allen took their minds off other things, if only for a few minutes. Jake gave wide space as the trio drove slowly passing their riding hero. Up closer, you could see the strain on Allen's face as he started the tough climb. He reached down and adjusted the gearing, going to the small front ring and a larger rear. The team cheered as they passed. Allen mustered a smile and a half hearted thumbs up. It was hot, he was wet with sweat, salt caked on his face, even his helmet straps were white with salt. He was tired, the ride was getting long.

"He looks like he is ready for it to be over," Jake said.

"Yeah, but he is still riding strong," Devon replied. "Not sure I would ever ride a bike that long." Jake blew the horn as they were well past, his last yell of encouragement to his best friend.

"That was fun," Lizzie chimed in as everyone sat back in the seats. Jake returned to 50mph. Lizzie's eyes wandered to both guys suits. A tingle of desire pulsed between her own legs. Devon still looked aroused, Jake not so much. Lizzie rested her hand high on Jake's right leg, all the way to where his suit's narrow lower leg seam met his bare skin. Her fingers could touch his most sensitive parts, which she let them to. She guided her index finger along the outline of him, softly. Jake responded immediately, his bulge growing massive. He did not fight it. Devon watched Lizzie's hand, he imagined the feeling. He started to grow along with Jake. It became clear he was not hard earlier, but it was more clear that he was getting hard now. For both guys, the tiny suits struggled to contain them. "She is stroking him," Devon thought to himself in disbelief.

Jake could feel his urge growing fast, too fast. Being around Lizzie in a tiny swimsuit all morning had built up desire he was about to lose control of. He gently slid her hand down his leg. He had to focus on driving, which was becoming difficult. He was growing and pressing hard against the tight suit. Lizzie slid her hand back, this time more boldly feeling him. Devon watched as she slid her hand over Jake's bulge, Devon grew even more aroused as he imagined the feeling. He could feel her imaginary hand on him, teasing him, arousing him. He closed his eyes, feeling his arousal grow.

"I need to drive," Jake said, hopping Lizzie took the hint. Jake was doing all he could to stay grounded and keep himself in check. He could feel the sensation building between his legs. A soft thrust let out a slight shot of wetness. His suit soaked it in, forming a wet spot. He knew there was more to come. "We got some time," Jake said as he made a right onto a slightly traveled rural road. Farm fields lined both sides as they headed west, directly ahead a ridge of mountains that made up the state park. The road was private, secluded. Row upon row of potato crop lined both sides.

Lizzie let her leg slide against Devon's, acting as if she didn't notice. As much as Jake was trying to keep control, it was Devon who was most struggling. He wished he had his shirt, but it was in the duffle bag in the bed of the truck. He was feeling so exposed in the tight two inch band of swimsuit with his massive erection stretching the suit into a bulging display of erotic desire. Devon had rarely been publicly hard in a swimsuit, and had never exploded in one. "Please, get a grip," Devon said to himself. He stretched a leg out, hoping he could ease the arousal. He could not believe how hard he was or how close he was. The bumps of the road created pulsation that only made things worse. The tight suit kept getting tighter.

Lizzie was as aroused as the guys. Her own tingling sensations teased her, as her warmth soaked into the tiny string bikini bottom. She could feel Jake inside her, all in her mind, of course. The outline of him as he massaged her. Like the guys, she was close. Far closer than them. Her left hand slowly stroked Jake, bringing him so close. He was breathing harder. The truck slowing. Her right hand, with one finger followed Devon's quad muscles, careful to not actually feel the parts of him that she so loved on Jake. Enough, though to bring him to an explosive loss of control.

"Damn, Lizzie," Jake said in a very lustful way. He knew he had lost the battle. The first thrust about sent him out of his seat as he exploded into the tight suit and the grip of her hand. She released with him, her inner self pulsating as wetness soaked her bikini. Jake's thrusts were powerful, masculine, intense. He kept thrusting, the truck dead stopped. Devon had his eyes closed. Lizzie's hand went higher, finally feeling him. It did not take much.

"Oh Shit," Devon called out as he felt the first signs of an atomic orgasm. His legs went straight and stiff as the first massive pulse of release shot out of him, through the suit. Five more powerful jolts followed, finally easing off to soak his suit with sticky masculine release. His heart raced. He could not believe he lost it like that. "Sorry," Devon said softly as he covered his wet suit with his hands. Breathless, the trio sat silent. On the main road behind them Allen had just finished his last big climb. The finish line was a rolling downhill roll ahead. All three needed to get cleaned up, fast.

------

The water dousing by Chris was more than refreshing, it washed away the salty grime of sweat from Allen's face. Chris and Allen chatted for a few minutes as the looked at the road ahead. Patten was a mere five miles ahead, all downhill. The one street town visible in the distance. "The hard work is over, enjoy this part," Chris encouraged him. Allen remounted the old green bike as two cars full of teammates passed by, horns blowing and cheers screaming. Allen started the downhill ride. Chris stood and watched as he began the easy roll.

About 50 feet out Allen turned his head back. "By the way, cool freaking suit," he yelled back to Chris. Chris smiled back. It was Sherie's favorite. He looked down at his suit, it still felt great on and looked awesome. He still rocked it well. He felt himself get a little aroused.

The bike almost rode itself on the long downhill, edging up past 19 as Allen gained speed. He needed it, because he had a short, steep uphill to take on before the coasting finish resumed. It wasn't long, but it was easily a 10% grade for about 1000 feet, enough to suck away any speed and pull a rider out of his seat. Allen made it almost half way before he had to stand and press out a climb. His wet, clingy spandex kit clung to him. Chris went by just as Allen crested the climb. Over the next mile, one by one, the parade of team went by cheering and screaming.

Allen coasted, catching his breath. He could see the town of Patten. He could feel the end coming. He was ready to be off the bike and out of the wet, sweaty spandex wrap of his gear. Head down, Allen powered up the speed, watching as the town inched closer. The small airstrip on his left marked the mile out point.

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

"We will just make it," Jake said as he spotted Allen ahead. The trio, both guys in new, clean suits, sped down the road, passing Allen with less than half a mile to go. The rest of the team was already lined up in front of the seasonal ice cream shop at the corner of Route 159. Allen was clearly visible, the team was going crazy, as were some of the customers of the shop. It looked like a mini version of the Tour de France.

Jake, Lizzie and Devon joined the group just as Allen was a block away. He looked stealth on the old green bike. "Allen, Allen..." the team chanted. Allen came in strong and fast as the team gave him high fives all the way. He coasted past continuing a few hundred feet before looping back and doing it all again. No one was sure if it was tears or sweat rolling down his face, but the joy was obvious.

"Thank God that is over," Allen said. "You guys are so great." He stood over the bike. The girls gave him hugs, so did some of the guys. Allen soaked up all the attention.

"How far did you actually ride?" Chris asked. Allen looked at his cycling computer.

"85.4," he replied.

"That is really cool," Jake chimed in. "You were awesome out there. Let's get you off that bike,". Jake held the bike as Allen dismounted. Five hours plus after getting on it, Allen no longer had a bicycle between his legs.

"How are your balls?" Jake whispered.

"They fell off thirty miles ago," Allen replied with a grin. He rubbed his front as they walked. Blood flow was returning to places it had not been, giving him a bit of an erection, which the cycling bib shorts did not hide. Allen didn't care, either.

Ricky and Stormy joined Jake and Allen. It was an unusual mix, three hot swimmers in their various suits and Allen enveloped in tight spandex. One by one the rest of the team joined, filling three tables. Girls and guys who looked more ready for the pool than a roadside lunch. The celebration began.

[dm106]

Very hot and excellent story! Please continue when you can.