CYCLIST

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA) Lines: 535 Message-ID: 34sjks$4si@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu NNTP-Posting-Host: kanga.ins.cwru.edu

Cyclist (c) By Tommie Depp

Greg rides in my neighborhood. I have seen him many times, pedalling intently, as I drove by. I always enjoyed the view of his muscular buns tight-packed into his skin-tight white shorts. I once stopped to offer Greg a ride when he was pushing his bike along with an obviously flat tire. He refused, and all I got that time was his name. I even met him once in a bar, in full cyclist's gear, skin-tight shorts, mesh shirt, and that cycling cap with the upturned bill. Never got a chance to say more than hello - he had about nine guys hanging around hitting on him continuously - he IS a good looking stud.

I was sitting out by the pool watching the rain one day (we've had a room built against the back of the house. It's mostly glass and gives you the illusion of being outside and pool-side with all the benefits of air conditioning) when I heard a knock on the side door. I stepped around the corner and came face to face with Greg through the glass.

I opened the door to see what he wanted and he said, "Oh, Hi! I didn't know this was your place!"

"Yes," I said, "How are you?"

"Oh, fine. I just wanted to ask if I could wait under your awning while it's raining so hard."

"Of course, Greg. Just leave your bike there and come on inside."

"Thanks! It's really pouring! Hey! How do you know my name?"

"I stopped once to offer you a ride when you had a flat. Remember?"

"Oh yeah! I remember. Your name's..."

"Tommie."

"Yeah. I've seen you around."

Greg parked his bike, taking time to lock it to my railing (like someone would have braved a Florida downpour to steal it!) and came on inside. I took a good look at him, which I had never had the opportunity to do before, and forgot my manners. When I should have been inviting him in and asking him to have a seat, I just stood and stared.

There was a lot to stare at. To begin with, the guy was huge. I am used to having big men around, Marc is six-two or maybe six-three. Greg would have towered over him. He must be every inch of six-and-one-half feet tall. And it didn't stop there. He was broad-shouldered and built in a way that would be called stocky in a smaller man. On him the word didn't seem to fit. He seemed to me to be cut in truly heroic proportions. This man might have been the model for Hercules. David must have faced a Goliath this size. Greg's broad shoulders dropped in a straight line to a solid waist atop broad, solid-looking hips. His arms were massive and his legs were the tree-trunks the poets go on about. He weighed two hundred and seventy or eighty pounds if he weighed an ounce. If there was any obvious fat on him I couldn't find it.

His curly hair, now dripping ringlets, framed a handsome square-jawed face (where was this guy when they were casting for Batman?) with a wide, sensual mouth and a faint hint of a five- o'clock shadow, even this early in the day. His nose was grecian, and his eyes were a warm brown.

His mesh shirt, soaking wet, clung to every curve of his body, and as he stood there I inventoried every curve. He had shoulders like a football player, massive and mounding up to a neck as big around as my thigh. His pecs were massive, heavy, solid, and placed high on his chest so that his nipples, hard from the chill of the air-conditioning, pointed out and down. They were small, and very dark against his tanned, olive skin.

Greg moved past me into the patio area and I wrested my sight from the bulge at his crotch to catch a good look at his magnificent ass. Do you know what happens to white spandex cycling shorts when they get soaking wet? They become invisible! I could see through his shorts clearly, and I enjoyed every second of it. His ass was perfect and his cock was clearly outlined, though through enough layers of fabric that I couldn't get the view I wanted.

"Do you have a towel? I'm dripping all over your floor."

"Think nothing of it...I'm drooling all over everything anyway" was what I wanted to say. What I did say was, "Sorry, I should have thought. Let me show you where the bathroom is. If you're cold, take a hot shower, and I'll bring you some of Marc's clothes. They'll fit you, I think. Then we'll put your stuff in the dryer."

I pulled my gaze from his massive chest (sculptors would pay major bucks for such a model) and led him into the house.

While he undressed in the bathroom, I dodged into my bedroom and grabbed a pair of exercise shorts that Marc usually wears when he works out at my place. I also snagged an old t-shirt and headed back to the bathroom.

I knocked then, and without waiting, opened the door and held out the clothes to him. To my annoyance he was standing behind the door completely out of view and I couldn't think of any excuse to open the door wider. As I closed the door, I caught a flash of skin and kicked myself for not looking in the mirror.

I went back to the living room and sat down to wait. The time passed quite slowly, and my anticipation of seeing Greg in tight shorts and a t-shirt made it seem an eternity. After a bit I heard the shower running, and decided that I'd make some coffee to kill time.

I came back, carrying two cups of coffee and found Greg standing in the middle of the room, looking for me. He was wearing only a towel, and carrying the clothes I had passed into him.

"I couldn't get into these. The t-shirt was impossible, and these shorts just couldn't cut it," he held them out in front of him and stretched them to their widest- they were too small by about two inches.

I was struck again by just how large he really was. Marc is big, has a thirty-six inch waist (which appears narrow) and is imposing. Greg must have a thirty-eight or larger waist, seems anything but narrow, and is genuinely intimidating.

"Well, it was worth a try. Are you warm enough?" I asked, giving him an obvious head-to-toe inventory. "This coffee will warm you some."

"Thanks," Greg said and sat on the arm of the sofa.

"Get comfortable."

"Well, this towel's sorta wet and my hair..."

"Just sit down and be comfortable." By way of example I flopped onto one end of the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. I sipped coffee and watched him over the rim of the cup.

He sat down gingerly, like he was used to being careful not to break things. I know it was purely illusion, but his cup seemed small in his hand as he sipped hot coffee.

I sat back and just watched him. The towel was wrapped tightly about his waist, but sitting down had loosened it somewhat. It lay across his lap, sagging between his wide-spread thighs, emphasizing the bulge of his crotch. His right leg was exposed almost to the hip and my eyes followed the smooth skin from hip to knee. The expanse of smooth olive skin excited me, and I kept my coffee cup near my lap to cover what was fast becoming an embarrassment.

Greg leaned back, stretching, and displayed himself for my viewing pleasure. His arms raised behind his head were an image of raw strength. As he stretched, his biceps flexed. Across his belly, deep lines etched a washboard. His pecs lay firm and upthrust, his small dark nipples hard and drawing my gaze. He raised his bare foot and placed it on the table before him. As he did so, a corner of the towel fell between his legs, exposing his thigh and giving me a full length view.

At that moment something distracted me and I put my coffee cup aside. When I looked back he had lifted his other leg to the table, mimicking my own position at the other end of the couch, and had re-adjusted his towel. I realized at that moment that what had distracted me was the smoothness of his legs. They were completely hairless, as were his arms. I peered closely, but could not tell that he was shaving them. He had to be, had to.

About then Greg finished his coffee. I had already finished mine but was holding on to the cup and saucer to hide my erection as much as I could. He pulled his legs down and leaned forward, placing the cup on the table. As he did, his towel came completely loose, and I got a real nice view. I still didn't get a look at his cock, but one leg came completely into view and I got a nice look at the curve of his ass.

As he sat back, Greg casually flipped the corner of the towel back to where it covered him, but made no effort to tuck it in again. I stared, openly, and he smiled in my direction.

I stood quickly, nervously, and gathered up my coffee cup. As I headed toward the kitchen I reached for his, and he leaned forward to hand it to me. The towel disarranged itself again and I leaned farther forward to get a better look. Our heads met with a loud BONK! (honest! it really made that noise!) and I nearly dropped the coffee cups. I turned to set them down and turned back, to see Greg standing with his hands on his forehead and his towel around his ankles.

Praise the patron saint of Clumsiness, whoever he is! I rubbed my own forehead, to keep my angle of vision low, and to cover my stare.

It didn't work.

"Your head OK?" he asked me smiling.

"Fine."

With an even broader smile he looked down and asked, "How's mine?"

"Huh?" That's me, brilliant conversationalist under pressure.

"You finally got the look you've been trying for."

"Yeah."

My conversation was stunted because my hormones had begun to moan. He was shaved! I mean bald! Not a hint of hair anywhere. I had never seen a guy shaved before. His cock hung down about six inches, swinging slightly. It seemed full, somehow and just looked heavy. The dark head was an invitation to me and by the time I got around to looking at his balls, big and weighty, I began to lose it. I wanted to rub my face against his balls and lick around the base of his cock. I wanted to suck his balls, and take that long, heavy, hunk of meat into my mouth and feel it get hard. I couldn't tear my eyes away and my mouth just opened of it's own accord. I couldn't think coherently. I couldn't talk at all. I wanted to say any of a hundred things that came in flashing fragments to my mind, but all that I could do was stare and lick my lips.

Greg stepped in front of me, reached up and put his hands on my shoulders. There was no downward pressure but I knelt anyway. I did not so much kneel as genuflect. My position was one of complete submission. In that moment I came as close to worship of his cock as I have ever come to anything.

I leaned forward and he placed his hands on my hair. They covered my head completely. As I was struck again by the hugeness of this man, his stiffening cock rose and touched my lips. I licked the head, wrapping my tongue around it, getting it nice and wet. My tongue explored further, sliding and licking down the length of his shaft. I got underneath and as his slippery-slick cock rolled across my face I nibbled at the tender spot where the underside of his shaft met his balls. I licked up and down the underside of his shaft. I moved back and licked the base of his cock, moving on to moisten the smooth skin of his shaved groin.

I reached out, and wrapped my arms around his legs, placing my palms against the back of his thighs. I passed my hands up and down the smooth skin, feeling the hard muscle, digging in my fingertips and savoring the power of his body.

He pulled my face into the wetness of his shaved groin and I applied my tongue to the smooth skin surrounding the base of his cock. I rubbed my face against him, letting his slick, wet, hard cock rub all over my face. I held it with one hand while licking up and down the shaft. The other hand I used to cup his balls. They were a big handful and I fingered them, marvelling at, revelling in the soft, smooth skin. I took his wet cock and rubbed it over my cheeks, and my mouth. I lifted one ball and placed it in my mouth. While I sucked HARD and tongued it, I stroked his cock.

Greg reached down and captured a drop of pre-cum on his finger-tip. He raised his hand to his mouth and sucked it off his finger.

I looked up at him, awed by the massive body above me, and reached upward with my hands. My palms explored his groin, his belly, the smooth planes of his sides. At full stretch I could just cup his pecs in my palms, and I did so, feeling the hard nipples press against the center of my palms.

I opened my mouth wider so I could suck on both his balls. With both of those huge balls in my mouth, I could barely move my tongue. I made up for it by sucking hard and moving my mouth back and forth, just as if I were sucking his cock.

He put his palms over mine and squeezed, to indicate that he wanted me to be rougher. I obliged, squeezing harder and harder, then taking his nipples and pinching them. I grabbed hold and pulled them downward, squeezing as I pulled and twisting.

Moaning softly, he reached down and pressed his wet cock against my face while he pushed his groin forward.

I surrendered his balls, but kept working on him with my tongue, running it up and down his shaft and painting his entire crotch area while I played with his nipples. I began to tease them, flicking them rapidly with my thumbnail while I gripped them tightly.

Greg moaned again and pressed the head of his cock against my lips. I opened my mouth wide, to accept his big, hard cock, and began to suck him. I took just the head between my lips and teased his piss-slit while he thrust his cock toward me. I sucked hard, and worked his head with my tongue, lapping all around it, and getting a taste of pre-cum.

I reached behind him and grabbed his ass. I dug my fingers in tight, and felt the muscles tense then relax as he began to rock back and forth in time with my sucking. The play of his powerful muscles under my hands excited me more and more. I let my hands roam his body, caressing at first, then squeezing so that I could feel the sheer strength captive under my hands. With my palms flat against his cheeks, I thought about how he compared to others. Most guys have cheeks that fill your hand, and you can nearly cover his ass by spreading your fingers. Even big guys seemed small compared to this giant. Both hands could cover one cheek, but it did take both. When I gripped his thigh, there was very little curve to my palm, it was almost flat against the side of his leg.

Under my hands his muscles tensed and relaxed as I worked his cock. As I slipped my lips up and down his hard shaft, licking the thick throbbing vein on the underside, he pumped his hips back and forth, feeding me his meat. I took time out, again and again, to stop sucking and just lick the whole length of his cock. I loved to lick the smooth shaved patch of skin around the base of his cock and to feel it's wetness against my face as I licked his balls.

Greg put his hands behind my head and pressed my face against him. I felt his ass muscles tense, and he said just one word "Now."

I stopped painting his cock with my tongue and sucked his head into my mouth. I held just the head between my lips while I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock and teased the piss- slit. I let go my hold on his ass and began to stroke his shaft with one hand while I squeezed his balls with the other. He pressed my head hard, trying to shove his cock deeper into my mouth. I pulled back, and kept just the head in my mouth. My tongue went crazy, swirling wetness around his cockhead, teasing him to his climax. I sucked hard, then harder and continued to tease his piss-slit while he began to moan. With a groan that just missed being a scream, he shot a load of come right onto my tongue. While I sucked the salty sweetness of it out of him I continued with my tongue and I stroked his shaft faster, squeezing hard. He shot another big load right onto my tongue. I swallowed, and swallowed again, having trouble getting it all down.

Greg pulled me toward him and I let him this time. His whole hard shaft rammed into my mouth, filling me up, and I sucked as hard as I could. He came again, this time jetting his cum against the back of my throat. I swallowed hard and continued to suck. Greg relaxed his crushing grip, and I knew he was nearly done, but I wanted more. I continued sucking, hard, and worked the underside of his cock with my tongue. Teasing the big vein underneath, pressing it hard, from root to tip, sliding my lips up and down his shaft, I milked out another heavy shot. As it landed on my tongue I reached up and pinched his nipples. Greg smiled down at me and pushed his cock into my mouth another time. I milked a last drop of cum from him, then let his shrinking cock out of my mouth and pressed my face against his shaved groin. I just held it there for a minute while he ran his fingers through my hair.

As I looked up at him he smiled at me and said, "Nobody ever got me off so good. Do you always suck like that?"

"Only for you!" I lied. Why spoil the mood?

He stepped away from me, and sat down on the couch with a flop that made it groan. He waved to me and I sad down beside him. With a heave that indicated he didn't consider me heavy, Greg lifted me into his lap.

He pulled my mouth onto his, and as our tongues met, he began stroking my cock. I sat there, his huge arm around me enveloping me, kissing him deeply. He pulled me close to him, hugging me warmly, and continued to stroke me with hand.

I felt his big cock stiffening under my leg, and I broke off our kiss long enough to lean back and look at him and wonder what it would be like to be fucked by such a giant.

When I leaned back, Greg leaned forward and began to lick my chest. He let his tongue wander all over my, but paid special attention to my nipples. While he sucked the gently, and teased them with his tongue and teeth, he worked my cock with his hand.

"You've got a great cock," he told me. Before I could answer, he continued, "and a great body, too. You know what I'd really like?"

I knew. At least I thought I did, and my ass was already twitching in anticipation, when he said, "I really wanna get fucked."

"How about a little lubrication?" I said, standing up. This put my cock right at his mouth level and he wasted no time in taking it in.

I had nuzzled and licked and toyed with his cock, but Greg wasted no time on such. In his first gulp he nestled his nose in among my pubic hairs and barely moved it afterward. He sucked my hard, very hard, and used his tongue to stroke my shaft. He did it ravenously, like he couldn't get my cock deep enough into his throat. He buried his handsome face against me and cupped my cheeks with those huge hands of his. He squeezed my ass and damn near lifted me off my feet. He went on sucking and sucking, laving my cock with his tongue, and squeezing the muscles of my ass in his hands like he was kneading dough.

He pulled me tightly to him, and I began to feel the rush of a hot load on it's way to burst into the world. I put my hands on his head and he answered by sucking still harder. I couldn't believe the way he was getting me off. It was pure tongue action and hard, hard sucking. As I got closer I began thrusting against his mouth. It might as well have been a brick wall. There was no need to thrust, my cock was as deep in hhis mouth as it could possibly go... he had it all.

He dug his hands deeper into my cheeks, and speeded up his tongue, pulling back just enough to work on the sensitive underside skin just back of my cockhead.

I felt myself ready to cum. I told him so with words and with actions. He dug his hands into my ass, gripping powerfully, and as I shot my first load, he lifted, actually lifted me into the air. I hung there, body arched, crotch thrust against his face, pinned by his powerful hands, upheld by his massive strength, my head was back, my mouth open, and my arms just dangled at my side. He sucked a huge load out of me. I didn't cum in his mouth, I didn't shoot a hot load down his throat. No, he TOOK what he wanted. He pulled a load of cum from out of me, extracted what he wanted, and left me limp.

Now it was my turn to say, "Do you always suck like that?"

"Every damn time," he smiled and leaned back on the sofa.

"Christ, man! I thought you wanted fucked?"

"It'll last longer if it's your second time."

I wasn't going to argue with him.

"Sit down," he said and indicated his lap.

I looked at the pole of hard meat shoving up into the air from his lap and said, "All right!"

"No, no. Not yet. I'm first!"

I put on my best disappointed expression and made as if to turn and leave.

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me down onto his lap. His hard cock was trapped under my ass, and my every movement as I "struggled" to get away was pleasure for him and for me.

He finally pinned me against himself, one hand held my cock, stroking it into stiffness. His other arm lay across my chest pinning me against him. I felt his lips move against my neck, his hot breath on my back. I was hard again in moments.

Greg stood, lifting me easily off his lap, and said, "Fuck me!"

He turned, knelt, and flopped forward, burying his face against his arms on the carpet, sticking his ass up in the air, an inviting target.

I knelt behind him, eager as he was, and began lubing his asshole. Damn but he was tight- tight as a virgin.

While I fingered him, he began to moan. When I pressed the head of my cock against his hole he began to beg, "Fuck me! Please, fuck me! Do it hard! Please!"

Incredible- how much he wanted fucked, just incredible. He kept it up, begging me, repeating, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Please! Fuck me hard as you can!"

I've played B&D games with Josh and Marc, and have been turned on by making them beg for my cock, but this was no game! It was for real!.

I made the best of it, teasing his hole with the head of my cock and drawing plea after plea out of him.

"Fuck me hard! Fuck me! Now! Please!" it had almost become a chant.

I pushed my cockhead against him, and he backed up toward me. I pulled back, then thrus forward, shoving about two inches into him.

"Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh! God that's good! Ram it up my ass. Fuck me. Make me feel it! Make it hurt! Fuck me!"

I couldn't believe this guy! I never met anybody who wanted it up the ass so bad. I pulled back a bit, and he tried to follow me. I pulled back faster and pulled myself completely out of him. He looked up from from where his head rested against his hands on the floor, and pleaded with me with a look, "Fuck me!" It was almost plaintive.

I shoved my cock into his ass. Full length, hard as I could, no gentleness, not tenderness, just rock-hard meat in a tight, hot hole.

"Aaaaahhhhh!" he sounded relieved. "Fuck me. Hard! Hard! Hard!"

I pulled back again, completely out of him! Once again he raised his head and looked at me. His expression was like that of a dog when you take food away from him. I had a cock. It was hard. Why wasn't it inside him? I wasn't going to STOP was I?!

I put my palms on the small of his back and began to lean into it. I plunged my cock into him again, full length, no mercy. I pulled out again completely, and rammed it into him again. He turned back, lay his head on his hands, with a satisfied expression and began to moan.

I kept up ramming him, again and again I would withdraw, and then slam my cock into him. I fucked him so hard that every sound of my flesh meeting his muscular cheeks was like a hand- clap. He matched every thrust with me, taking all of me into him with every lunge.

As I fucked him, he kept up an irregular chant, "Fuck me. Hard, harder! Shove it up my ass!" Now he added, "Hit me. Make my ass sting! Make it hurt. Fuck me! Hit me hard! Fuck me hard! Make me feel it!"

I began to paddle his ass, slapping gently at first, then harder. I felt the solid muscle underneath my hands, and I knew I couldn't hurt him. I began to really haul back and hit him. Hard underhanded strokes left red hand-prints on his cheeks.

I continued to pull my cock completely out of him for each stroke. I plunged all the way into him with each thrust. Between thrusts I slapped his ass and he moaned.

I began to dig my fingers into his cheeks after each swat. The hard muscle would contract under my hand and I would feel his hole tighten around my cock too.

Moaning, he began to thank me between pleas for more, "Uuuuh. That's good! Uuuh. Ooooohhhh! Fuck me harder! Oh, thank you! God, you're good! Fuck me more. Harder. Hit me! Hurt me. Fuck my ass! Thank you! Please! More!"

I began to fuck him faster. I was really getting into this. I began to shout back at him, "You want this?" and I shoved my cock into him. "You feel that!" I would say as I slapped his ass as hard as I could. "Squeeze!" I would shout as I dug my fingers into his muscular buns.

"Yes. I want it! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" he answered.

I began to take shorter strokes, now, getting closer to cuming all the time.

He didn't seem to mind because he continued to match me thrust for thrust, lunge for lunge, begging me to fuck him harder and harder all the time.

I rammed into him faster and faster, barely taking time to swat hard at his cheeks.

Every time I plunged forward he would ram has ass backward against me. Every time I pulled back he'd squeeze and I'd plant a resounding slap on his bright-red ass.

I lunged again and again. I was perspiring, covered with a film of sweat. Greg just kept begging for more. I kept fucking him. Hard. Hard. Hard. I was getting close. I hit him harder now, with every slap, and dug in my fingers afterward. He was not just pleading now, he was truly begging, imploring me for more. I fucked him faster, slapped him harder, thrust myself against him with all my weight and all my strength. I leaned far forward, putting my hands on his shoulders for better leverage. I rammed into him again, again and again.

He was almost shouting now, "Oh, God! Make me cum again! Fuck me! Hit me! Shove it in me! Give me more! Fuck me harder! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK ME!"

With all my strength I slammed into him again and again. I rode him with all my power and when I though I was about to die of exhaustion I suddenly and uncontrollably came.

Jamming myself into him with all my strength I shot hot ropes of cum deep into his ass. As I shot my load, over and over, I landed a thunderous round of slaps to his ass, pounding in underhanded strokes that hurt my hands. I nearly screamed, an inarticulate noise, wrenching itself from me as I let my load go.

I pulled back, thrusting myself away from him, toppling over on my side, to lie, panting, chest heaving on the carpet.

I looked at Greg. He had rolled over onto his back. He was lying, arms spread above his head, legs spread wide, his softening cock oozing the last traces of cum onto his heaving belly. He drew in massive breaths, the play of his muscles etching hard lines into his chest and abdomen with every lungful of air.

I looked him over, all my lust for him gone, but far from forgotten. Beside him was a plate-sized patch of carpet covered with long strings and big drops of cum. I looked at and it dawned on me how much was actually there.

"Do you always cum like that?" I asked him.

"Christ! You really fucked me!" he said.

I continuedd to stare at that huge puddle of cum, "I can't believe anybody can cum that much!"

"I came three times."

I put my hand on my forehead and pretended to faint. What a stud! He came three times after I had already sucked him off once! All in the course, I looked at the clock, of two hours! Two hours! I couldn't believe I had fucked him so long.

He couldn't either, because he said, "Nobody ever fucked me like that!"

"It's mutual, believe me," I told him.

Half an your later, after a necking session in which we both managed to get hard again, but couldn't work up the enthusiasm to do much about it, Greg's clothes were dry.

I watched him pull his tight shorts up over his still-red ass and tuck his half-hard cock down his left leg.

I walked with Greg to the door, and stood while he unlocked his bike. We stood in bright sunshine. Hell, the whole place had dried out while we fucked!

"You gotta come back soon," I said.

"You've got my number. Call me."

"You'd better believe I will. I've got someone I want you to meet!"

He looked interested, "Yeah? Blond dude? Muscle-guy with shoulder-length hair?"

"That's him. Marc."

"Call soon."

THE END

Coming soon to a BBS near you:

Wrestling Team Tryouts

Service Contract

Service Contract 2

(Adventures on the

END