“So, what do you wanna do tonight? Play Scrabble®?”
We were back in the motorhome after working on a hot Friday in August, lounging around and digesting the ‘burgers we’d grilled for supper over at the house. I wasn’t remotely in the same league as Dad when it came to cooking, but I could manage to produce a pretty tasty hamburger.
“Um, I was really thinking of learning how to knit.”
“Good idea. I’m gonna study some history, just for fun.”
We managed to look totally serious for about two seconds before bursting out laughing, stripping off our shirts and losing our shorts as we raced to the back of the motorhome and landed tumbling on the bed.
“Mmmm. You smell sooo good,” I told Dave, as I kissed and licked all the way across his chest. After six weeks of enthusiastic discovery we had found all the special places that really set off the fireworks. No more inhibitions between us now, real sex was definitely way better than our solo fantasies had ever been, back before we met, and we took every opportunity to prove it. I worked my way down his body and Dave shifted a little for better access. We were both in the mood for a long night of cuddling and kissing and, of course, lots of sex, and we got down to the business of stroking, licking, sucking and enjoying each other’s body.
After we had each cum twice we were semi-dozing, wrapped around each other on the bed, thinking our separate thoughts when Dave’s phone beeped once. No immediate reaction from Dave, although I thought I heard a kind of grunt from somewhere deep within. A couple of minutes passed, then he stirred.
“I gotta pee,” he announced, rolling to a sitting position. He reached for the phone and checked the screen, grunting again as he dropped it on the end of the bed on his way to the bathroom. I grabbed the pillows and curled around them, dropping back into the warm post-orgasmic glow. I could have been drifting there for hours, but it can’t have been very long before I felt the bed move as Dave sat down on the end and retrieved his phone.
“It’s from Andy. He wants to know if we want to come to Burton tomorrow. There’s some kind of event or something, and he’s going with his dad.”
I sat up, still hugging the pillows. “What kind of event? Like, would we be riding or just hanging around watching?”
“I dunno. He only says ‘Free stuff!’. Hang on, I’ll see if he answers,” Dave said, moving back up the bed to where I was, holding the phone to his ear. I could hear Andy answering, asking what was up. “Nothing much, dude, just hanging out, y’know? Yep, still out at Chris’ place. Nope, they get back next week…” Dave’s parents had been away most of the summer, traveling in Europe. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that they might want him back at home when they returned. Our summer arrangement – the two of us working for my dad and living and, ahem, bunking together for two months – had been so unreal, so fantastic, starting with us coming out to each other, then day after day of discovery and unburdening and totally awesome sex. I couldn’t imagine it coming to an end, just like that. Just the thought of Dave moving out woke me up completely.
Dave was sitting up against the headboard, chatting with Andy while idly scratching one of the patches of dried cum on his stomach. Watching his muscles flex gently as he moved his arm was starting to turn me on again. I couldn’t get enough of his body, but it suddenly occurred to me that there was a part of him I hadn’t tried playing with yet, and an evil part of my brain thought that this would be a good time to see what happened. I slid down the bed a little and started giving him a foot rub, one foot then the other. Then, while watching Dave’s face, I leaned down and licked the bottom of one foot. His eyes opened a little wider, but he continued talking to Andy. Looking into his eyes, I then took his big toe into my mouth and sucked on it. His eyebrows went up and his mouth made a little ‘O’ for a second. I started using my tongue while running my fingers along the curve of his beautiful calf muscle. That caused a little pause in the conversation!
“Umm. Uhhh. No! Nothing! I, uh, just got a cramp in my leg!” Dave explained to the phone. I abandoned his toe because I could see that his cock was definitely showing a great deal of interest in what was going on down below. I moved in between his legs and wasted no time while taking his warm hardness down my throat in one stroke.
“Uh, Andy, I’ll call you back, ‘k? I’ve gotta go! Um, this cramp is… uhhh! Bye!”
I worked quickly while Dave bucked and twisted, crying out as he came hard deep in my throat. Panting, his eyes rolled back, he collapsed onto the bed and lay there for a bit.
“Oh man, oh man! I’ve never… whoa. That was awesome, dude.” He shook his head and took a few deep breaths, his chest heaving. Suddenly he came to life, grinning and tackling me, pinning me onto my back. “Hehe. You are one crazy dude! What is Andy gonna think? Jeez! What if he figures out what we were doing?”
“Just don’t tell him which part of you had the cramp!” I wiggled around, making a half-hearted attempt to break free, as he bent down for a kiss. His tongue found its way to several previously unknown contact points that turned me into jelly, so I could only lay back and make throat noises while we kissed, Dave’s left hand brushing my nipple while his right hand stroked my cock and balls. It felt so good everywhere, and then there was that sudden tensing somewhere deep inside me, that warm rush rapidly gaining strength, like a fuse was lit down in my toes that was burning through my body until fireworks were exploding all around me and I could feel warm jets of cum landing on my chest and stomach.
I couldn’t move for a bit; I just lay there, breathing returning to normal, recovering. And apparently I dozed off for a while, because when I woke up I could see Dave out in the kitchen with my shorts on, getting something out of the fridge. I rubbed my eyes and rolled to the edge of the bed and sat there blinking for a bit. Detouring by the bathroom, where I also made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning up some of the dried cum from my skin, I joined Dave at the little table, under which my foot encountered Dave’s shorts. I held them up, he just shrugged so I shrugged back and put them on.
“Want some Mountain Dew?” he asked. I nodded, and he reached back into the little fridge and produced another can. “I called Andy back,” he said. “Hehe. I think he thinks we’ve got a couple of girls stashed out here! He kept asking questions, but I put him off, I think. For now, anyway. I said we’d go to Burton with him tomorrow – I hope that’s okay,” he looked at me and I just nodded again. “Anyway, it sounds cool. That racing team his Dad knows is gonna be there, and some of their sponsors are doing a bike clinic thing, plus Andy says they’re always giving away free stuff. Last year he scored a bike computer and some pedals.”
We discussed the various bike parts we’d like to score ourselves, but decided that Andy’s good luck was probably mostly due to Andy’s dad, who seemed to know every sports marketing guy in the entire northeast. Still, we’d be happy if some of that rubbed off on us!
Turning out the lights, we went back to bed. I think Dave might have had some notion of more fooling around, maybe using the last few condoms that remained from the big box we’d bought. I have no idea how we went through so many, I swear! Anyway, I’m pretty sure I fell asleep almost right away, and Dave too, because the next thing I knew was waking up to bright sun and birds chirping at full volume right outside the window over the bed. How can such tiny lungs make so loud a noise? I checked the time and realized that we’d better get moving if we wanted to eat breakfast and get the bikes and stuff organized and everything before Andy and his dad showed up. Showers would be a good idea, too. I was kinda crusty all over and so was Dave.
They arrived a little late, which was good because we were still pumping tires and filling water bottles when their spotless and incredibly shiny black pickup truck rolled into the yard. Andy and his dad got out and I could see the mental gears shifting as they looked around at the big 200-year-old beautifully restored farmhouse, the in-ground pool with a waterfall, the well-kept barn and other outbuildings, and the acres and acres of land all around. Well, that’s what my grandfather spent his time and money doing the last decades of his life: restore the house and maintain the old farm that’s been in the family for generations. And Dad has a landscaping company and our place is his showpiece. But still, pretty much everyone did a double take on their first visit.
“Dude!” Andy came up to Dave and they did the fist bump thing. “So this is where you’ve been hiding out. Pretty nice! Hey, Chris,” he nodded at me, flashing a lot of white teeth. “Whoa. You guys have been out in the sun!”
Andy’s dad had started loading my bike onto the rack in the bed of the truck, and I wheeled Dave’s over to him. “Hi Chris,” he said, “Here, hold this a sec.” He handed me my front wheel as he clamped the fork into the rack. “Is your dad home? I’d like to ask him about some terracing around our pool. Everyone says he’s the guy I should be talking to.”
Dad did a lot of rock walls and terraces and expensive landscaping for the Old Money houses along the river. “Um, not at the moment, but he’s usually around on Saturday afternoon.” Unless he’s heading down to Boston to boink his new girlfriend. But it seemed that wasn’t happening this weekend, for some reason.
“Cool. Maybe when I drop you guys off, then.”
With everything loaded we climbed in, me and Dave sitting in back and being very careful not to give any cause for suspicion, like me massaging his tonsils with my tongue or anything like that, and we set off for Burton Mountain. It was already a hot day, the August sun beating down through a light haze and no wind. It would be good to get up on the mountain, where there always seemed to be a cool breeze blowing. Turning off the highway into the full-up parking lot, I wasn’t too surprised when we pulled up to the gate leading into the restricted VIP area where all the trucks and tents were, and after a short discussion the gate opened and we rolled through. Cruising slowly down behind the line of trucks, trailers and tents with team names and sponsors’ logos all over them we finally came to a stop and got out.
“Huh. Kind of an odd name for a mountain bike team,” I thought, looking around while Dave and Andy unloaded the bikes. After a short consultation, we thought we’d go ride the trails first, partly to stretch our legs after the trip but mainly to get away from the noise and the people crowding around the area. Why did they always pump out loud, thumping music at these things? And here there were at least three different beats competing to be the most annoying. Andy’s dad produced some VIP passes to get us back into the restricted area later.
Having ridden here many times before, Dave and Andy knew the shortcuts to get over to the sweet singletrack on the far side while avoiding the heavy bike traffic on the popular trails near the mountain base. We rode for most of an hour before our stomachs started to protest in earnest. None of us had brought any energy bars or gel or anything, of course, so we headed back to the circus to look for some lunch.
We did have to show our passes to get back inside the fenced area, there sure was a lot of nice-looking hardware on display, along with racks of clothing, bike-themed jewelry, miracle muscle building supplements and the latest go-fast gizmos that may or may not actually work. We walked our bikes back to where Andy’s dad’s truck was parked and left them there. Nobody was going to be interested in our dirty old bikes with all the new ones on display! Going through to the public area in front, we were accosted by a man that looked kinda familiar.
“Hey Andy,” he boomed. “How ya doin’? Looking for your dad? He was here, but I think he just left with someone. Hi guys,” he said to Dave and me, his eyes doing a quick body scan and calculation of net worth. Definitely a sales type. “Hey, you looking for lunch? C’mon over to the buffet,” he pointed to the other side of the big trailer at the back of the canopied area. Then he spotted a real customer coming in from the other side. “Just head on over and help yourselves! I’ll tell your dad when he gets back.” And he was gone.
We each filled a couple of paper plates with food and grabbed some spring water from the bin full of ice cubes. We were looking for a place to sit when some of the racing team members got up from their table and left, and the one remaining dude waved us over.
“Hey guys, sit down! Enjoy! Name’s Phil, by the way.” Looking at me he added, “You’re with Jack, right?” I must’ve looked blank. “Jack Pelletier? I thought I saw you with him earlier.”
“Jack is my dad,” Andy volunteered, after swallowing a mouthful of food so he could speak. “I’m Andy,” he added.
“Oh. Hey. Andy. Nice guy, your dad! Helps out our ski team a lot,” he nodded. Looking back and forth at me and Dave he said, “Weren’t you all here about a month ago, for the Northeast Cup race?”
“Uh, yeah, we were here while the course was being set up, just riding on our own though,” Dave said, as though we might have been part of the race. “I’m Dave, by the way, and this is Chris,” he tilted his head in my direction.
“Dave. Chris. You guys all go to school together? All on the same team? I seem to remember you going up that first climb in pretty good shape.’
Each of the three of us took turns answering all Phil’s questions while the others wolfed down food. He turned out to be a really nice guy, studying engineering at the state university. Other team members drifted in, some of them joining in the conversation as we sat around digesting lunch. It was pretty cool, all those semi-pro riders just sitting around chatting like we belonged there. Not to mention that they were all totally fit and in shape, and all wearing body-hugging team jerseys and matching Lycra bike shorts. A guy could get dizzy trying to look in all directions while pretending not to look anywhere at all!
“Hey guys,” said Phil, looking furtively around over his shoulder, “we’re not supposed to let anyone know, but some of our bikes have the prototype Shimano 11-speed systems on ’em. Wanna see?” He led us over to the enclosure and we oooh-ed and aaah-ed while trying not to drool on the spotless metal bits. So many cogs, and such a narrow chain! We quizzed him on the shifting characteristics and choice of gearing with 11 speeds available. Nobody questioned the ‘need’ for 11 different gears in the back; more had to be better, obviously!
Standing next to them were a couple of current model fully-suspended cross-country bikes. Dave and I were trying to figure out the intricate arrangement of little shock absorbers and levers when Phil came over. “Want to try ’em? I think the suspension should be dialed in pretty close for your weight.”
“Uh, sure! I mean, is that okay? Can we?”
“Yeah, these are for demos, mostly. Too heavy for racing, really, but the sponsor likes us to ride ’em around sometimes, so it’s cool. Wait. There should be another one in the trailer,” Phil said, disappearing inside. He came back with one and handed it to Dave. “Wait. there’s another one in here I want to try. What kind of shoes do you guys have, SPD? Perfect.” Phil signed out the bikes while we ran to get our helmets and water bottles, after adjusting the saddle heights we all set off, Andy proudly leading the way to the shortcuts that Phil didn’t know about.
Phil could probably have ridden circles around us, but he was cool, riding mostly in the middle of the group, chatting with all three of us as we rode. For sure, those fully suspended frames are heavy! On the flat it was kinda like riding in a Cadillac if the suspension hit the sweet spot. And going downhill was awesome, once you got the hang of braking because the back wheel never came off the ground. But uphill was a different story. That was tough! I couldn’t really tell if the traction was better or not, but man, every one of those extra pounds hung on the frame was causing my quads to scream after a while. Not to mention that the different saddle and sweat pouring down my body were making my shorts chafe on my legs. As we rode back into the team area it was clear I wasn’t the only one hurting. Both Dave and Andy were walking a little strangely so their shorts wouldn’t rub.
Phil returned from signing the bikes back in. “Dudes, you look like you’re in pain!” We nodded agreement. “How come you didn’t wear bike shorts today?” We just looked at each other. Phil just shook his head sadly. “Yeah, I know. Hehe. I wouldn’t have been caught wearing Lycra back in high school either. But one of these days you’ll figure it out. You ever see a pro mountain biker riding in baggies? Nuh-uh. There’s a reason for that!” And, laughing, he dug into one of the team equipment cases and produced a tube of medicated lotion and tossed it to Andy. “Here, this’ll help.”
“Want me to help you put that stuff on?” Dave whispered to me as we walked over to put our stuff in the truck.
“Hehe. It better work fast, ’cause your crotch might be encountering some friction later,” I whispered back, as Andy came around from behind the truck and passed the tube to Dave. The lotion sure seemed like it was doing good: it felt cool and immediately soothing, anyway. We wandered back to the tent, and around to the public area where Andy’s dad – Jack – could be heard talking with one of the sponsors’ representatives. Phil was with them, too, and spotted us first.
“There you are. I was just telling Jack and Howard about you.”
We looked at each other, wondering what was coming next, because all three adults had That Look on their faces. Andy’s dad took over. “Howard and his group want to field a team in the 24-hour bike race that’s coming up. Only there’s another semi-pro race the same weekend , so they need to fill some slots. Phil says you guys could do it no problem. If you’re interested, that is.”
Phil took over, “It sounds tougher than it really is. It’s pretty much a party, actually. Each rider only goes for an hour or so at a time, then the next one, like a relay race. And it’s fundraising for a good cause. Plus you get free stuff like those super-powerful LED lights and stuff. You guys would enjoy it, I’m sure.”
The three of us looked at each other again. Dave was the spokesman, as usual, “Um, sounds pretty good. We’d have to check with our parents first though. Well, Chris and I would anyway,” since Andy’s dad was right there. “But yeah, if it’s for a good cause, then sure,” he looked at me and raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I’d do it, I’m pretty sure Dad won’t mind.” I said. Biking with friends for a good cause while getting free stuff – what’s not to like?
“Cool! That’s great!” Phil smiled at everyone. “Can we get them kitted out in team clothing now, then, so they can get used to wearing it?” he asked, looking at Howard. Dave and Andy showed fleeting signs of panic; I’m sure I did too!
“Hey, no problem. Come with me,” said Howard, turning and walking over to a big SUV with logos plastered all over it. “These should fit,” he said, opening the back and handing three plastic bags over his shoulder, followed by another three. Shorts and jerseys. More bags: socks, gloves. Another bag containing a team jacket. “You’ll need a jacket for riding at night. We’ll be bringing lights and stuff to the event. Better try that gear on now, in case it doesn’t fit. Phil, show them where they can get changed.”
Phil led us to the trailer, which turned out to have a translucent roof, so plenty of light inside. There were bikes hanging from the walls, toolboxes, shelves and bins full of parts, repair stands bolted to the floor, all spotless and neatly arranged. Heaven! He stood there while the three of us awkwardly shucked our shorts and shirts, then examined the Lycra bib shorts suspiciously, as though they might suddenly attack. Dave went first, removing his underwear, then pulling on the bike shorts.
“Kind of pull up from the padded part, get it snug in your crack then bring the top part up over your shoulders,” Phil said. It will feel like a diaper at first, but you’ll get used to it in no time.”
Andy and I followed suit, wiggling into the Lycra shorts, tugging to get them arranged smoothly. They felt pretty tight, but Dave’s looked like they fit him perfectly, and we were the same size. In fact, Dave looked awesome in those shorts! So did Andy. Heh. Phil was handing out the jerseys, and we pulled them on, too. I couldn’t stop looking at Dave; I wanted to jump on his body right then and there!
“Put on your shoes and socks,” Phil said, “and we’ll ride over to the bottom of the climb and back, just so you can see if the shorts bind or anything. How do they feel? Looks like they fit pretty good.”
As we threaded our way over to where the trail started, I kinda expected everyone to be staring at us. But nope. Nobody did. Of course, in that crowd we were pretty much invisible – blending in like everyone else. And by the time we got back to the truck I felt not only totally comfortable, but proud to be wearing team colors and riding next to Phil, an actual pro rider. Well, semi-pro, actually, but still.
Andy’s dad was ready to go, so we loaded the bikes into the pickup, retrieved our clothes from the trailer, stuffing it into the bags that had held our new gear, and climbed into the truck. Dave immediately fell asleep as soon as we hit the highway, and I kinda dozed in the other corner, admiring Dave’s legs and the padded bulge in his new shorts. And, I gotta admit, admiring my own legs a bit, too. Heh. Soon we were making the turn at Theo’s house and rolling up the long driveway. Our bikes were completely covered in mud, so I asked Andy’s dad – Mister Pelletier – I couldn’t call him Jack – to drop us off in the yard where the hose and brushes and other washing stuff was kept.
“Is that your dad’s truck?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s probably out back,” I said, leading the way around to the pool while Dave and Andy unloaded our two bikes and gear. Dad was sitting reading the paper, beer on the table beside him, looking pretty comfortable. He looked up as we came around the corner of the house. If he was surprised to see me dressed in bike clothes with team logos all over, he didn’t show it.
“Hey, Dad. This is Mr. Pelletier, my friend Andy’s dad. He drove us over to Burton to ride today.” I left them to discuss whatever Andy’s dad had in mind, and by the time I was heading back around the corner Dad was opening another beer and inviting Jack to sit and talk. Dave and Andy had disappeared, but I could hear their voices and tracked them down to the shed where the little excavator lived. No big surprise there! Dave was showing Andy the toys we had played with over the summer, and I think Andy was a little bit impressed.
“Looks like you’ll be here for a while,” I told him. “Your dad and my dad are settling down with a couple of beers out by the pool.”
“Sweet setup you’ve got here,” Andy allowed. “I can see why Dave spends so much time out here – look at all these machines! Hehe.” Dave’s lifelong obsession with tractors and other machines was well known to all his friends.
“Might as well wash your bike too, as long as you’re here,” Dave pointed out to Andy, moving over to pull out the hoses and pails and things.
“So, you don’t live in the house with your dad?” Andy wanted to know. “Dave says you have your own private motorhome around the back. This I gotta see!” He got his bike out of the truck, and started hosing it down.
“Um, yeah. Dad kinda likes his privacy, especially when he’s entertaining, which is pretty much all the time. It’s my grandfather’s old motorhome, but it’s been put up on blocks for a couple of years.” I said. Dave was busy using the soft brush to slop sudsy water all over his bike, and I was busy admiring his ass as he bent over in those wonderfully snug shorts. Plans involving that ass for later on were forming in my mind when it suddenly occurred to me that when Andy climbed up into the motorhome, he’d see that there was only one bedroom, and it was pretty obvious that Dave and I were both sleeping in it! Yikes!
“Um, be right back!” I said suddenly, dropping the hose and running around the shed to where the motorhome sat. Quickly unlocking and jumping up the steps, I threw everything off the bench seat, pulled the latch mechanism and slid out the bottom section to convert it into a bed. I grabbed one of the pillows from the bedroom and found the spare blanket, tossing it into what I hoped looked like a slept-in pile, adding some of Dave’s clothes and putting his duffel bag alongside. Whew. That better be good enough!
I could hear their voices just outside the door, and I turned on the ventilator and made like I was just coming out of the bathroom as they climbed up the steps.
“I had to take a dump,” I lied. “I’d advise you to stay clear of the bathroom for a few minutes! Hehe!”
Dave had a quizzical look on his face, but took in the situation right away, rolling his eyes and giving me a thumbs-up behind Andy’s back. “It’s kinda messy,” he mentioned, but Andy was busy looking everywhere and at everything.
“Wow, this is sweet! You could bring girls out here and your dad would never know! I bet you guys have been lucky more than a few times out here this summer, right?”
“Oh sure,” said Dave, “and Chris’ dad would drive them home after. Uh-huh. Like, they’d have to walk five miles to get home, dude!”
After showing Andy around the motorhome we went back to cleaning the bikes. Dad and Mr. Pelletier wandered over while we were finishing up, then Andy and his dad packed up his bike, got into the truck, waved goodbye and took off. Dad mentioned that “a few guests” would be turning up for dinner but it would be ribs done on the barbecue so we were welcome to eat over at the house later. Dave and I put away the hoses and wheeled our bikes over to the shed next to our little hideaway and climbed up into the motorhome.
“I thought they would never leave!” Dave said, as I closed the door behind me. He turned and pulled me into a big hug, running his hands down to my Lycra-clad ass.
“Me neither,” I agreed. “So, what do you wanna do, tonight? Play Scrabble®? Hehe.”