RAGBRAI - Day 02

"So, where'd you get your ALICE pack," she asked in the morning after the sun, birdsong, and squeak of the rusty t-swing woke them up.

He was laying on his back, she on her right side, tucked into his left arm pit, her fingers idly playing with his chest hair while he stroked her shoulder. She'd basically passed out after telling her story, and he figured he'd enjoy a night with someone's company so he let himself fall back asleep.

"My dad. Two tours in Nam. Got issued it on his way out the door, and I found it basically unused in the attic when I left for college. You?"

"Army National Guard. We got desert camo when I went to the Middle East and they excessed the olive ones so I took it home for hiking and camping."

"And to conceal your sex toys on week-long bike rides."

She smacked his chest.

"I thought you said you didn't reveal all of my secrets."

"I just assumed the really good stuff was tucked even further away."

She leaned in and bit a nipple for his sass, deeply exhaled and slumped back into his arms.

"So, do you do this often," he asked.

"Jack off strangers while relating a story about being the cum bucket in a drunken gang bang for a bunch of thick-thighed but small dicked frat boys?" He chuckled. "No, I'll admit that's a first for me."

"What do you do when you're not out here?"

"I was a quartermaster in the Army and turned that into an exciting and lucrative career in supply chain management. FOB, ROI, NPV, LIFO, FIFO, my god, if I told you everything I did you'd be creaming all over my fist again. I go on one adventure a year just to get away from Excel, and this year no one else could come with me - sister had a baby, boyfriend's a dickhead, yada yada yada - so I decided to come alone."

"For which, I am extremely grateful."

"You better be. What do you have for breakfast? I need some coffee for this fucking hangover."

"Come on, let's see if I can find some clothes without cum stains and we'll find something to eat. Do you want to shower first?"

She lifted the collar of her newly acquired hoodie and took a whiff. "Whew...yeah, that's ripe. How'd you sleep next to me?"

"I couldn't smell a thing over your breath."

"You keep mouthing off and I'm going to kiss you."

She crawled on top of him and their mouths met. Closed mouth at first, lips parting, tongues finding each other. He knew he was tasting tobacco, whiskey, morning breath, and other men's cum but idealized it as the most delicious bouquet he'd ever tasted. Their bodies pressed into each other, like two circles trying to make a Venn diagram.

She finally came up for air and rolled back into his armpit, nearly getting hooked on his semi-hard chubber on the way down.

"You like that, huh?"

"I like you."

She went back to her own tent and packed up her shower kit. He watched her go as he brushed his teeth with bottled water, her ass sashaying in time to some imagined beat. He found a clean kit, got dressed, broke down the tent, and packed up everything but his comfy shoes and his riding cream.

He squirted some butt butter into his hand and started to apply it liberally - more liberally that was absolutely necessary if he was being honest with himself. He swore under his breath that he'd already struck his tent, and took the liberty of using hers.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I thought we were going to eat." She opened the flap to reveal his shorts around his ankles, his knees in the air, and three fingers rubbing his sphincter.

"Oh hey...yeah...sorry, I couldn't help myself. Watching you leave for the shower reminded me of your story, and I was chafed from yesterday, and once I got started..." his voice trailed off as he realized the increasing impotence of each successive excuse.

"Well, don't expect me to help. I'm worn out and finally clean. The last thing I need is another orgasm - yours or mine."

He wiped off the excess cream on his dick and - balls bluing - pulled his shorts up to make himself presentable.

"Can I give you a hand with your tent?"

"You can give me a hand by getting out and letting me get dressed. Then you can give me a hand with the tent."

He sat on the lawn reading box scores on his phone until his erection subsided.

"I'm ready."

He looked up from his phone and saw that she was indeed. She wore padded skorts and a cycling jersey that said, "Just because I slept with you last night doesn't mean I'll ride with you today."

"Is that for me?"

"No, I want the DICKs to think twice before imagining a reprise. Not sure there's enough weed in the world to make me do that again," she said as she stretched and massaged her jaw.

She packed up and they broke down her tent together, chatting about the route, distance, and elevation change for the day.

"Easy day today. 60 miles, half the climb of yesterday."

"You want to ride together? You want to push hard and make a short day of it, or take our time and enjoy the sites."

"Sites? Silos and corn fields? Sure, let's take it easy."

They walked their packs back to the support truck and kept walking until they found a Girl Scout troop selling overpriced Folger's Instant Coffee.

"Oh, yes, the nectar of the gods." She chugged the first tepid cup and sat on a curb with him while they sipped the second.

"Feeling better?"

"Only one way to find out."

They headed out of town and it didn't take long until he realized why her boyfriend had gotten pissed off. She "took it easy" at about 20 mph as he struggled to maintain 15 into the headwind. He enjoyed the view riding behind her, but she soon disappeared into the horizon and he tooled along with the other casual riders.

Maybe it wasn't meant to be after all.

***

Clip...clop, clip...clop

He waddled along the line of luggage. On one hand, he should feel better than yesterday due to the shorter distance. On the other, he'd now logged 140 miles in two days and it was already taking his toll. Just another 300 or so to go. Sigh.

"Hey there, big guy. How ya' feeling?"

She was sitting on a curb, mowing through a pork chop on a stick with both of their bags sitting next to her. She handed him the spare pork chop in her left hand and between the pain, fatigue, and overwhelming feelings of gratitude, he had to fight back tears.

"This might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever given me."

"Well, I hope that's not true. Take a load off. I have your pack. We'll find a place to camp when you've rejuvenated."

They talked about their respective rides. She sped through to Lakeview in about 90 minutes and avoided the DICKs by splashing around in the lake for an hour or so. They figured she must've pulled out of town just as he was pulling in. He walked around downtown, downed a couple of energy packs, and headed out. Her afternoon was more leisurely than her morning, and she arrived in just enough time to grab their bags, buy a couple of pork chops, and rehydrate before he pulled in.

"Here I got dessert too." She reached into her jersey pocket and pulled out two ears of corn still in their husks.

"Where did you get those?" he asked.

"Craziest thing. When you bike 60 miles across western Iowa, you pass the occasional cornfield. I stopped to take a piss in one and helped myself."

He chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"You can't eat that. That's field corn. It's for the pigs and cows. We serve sweetcorn to humans."

"Seriously?"

"Yep, two completely different species."

"Well, shit."

He was about to chuck the corn into the roadside ditch when she stopped him. "I'll hold onto it anyway...as a souvenir."

"Suit yourself."

They changed their shoes, loaded up, and walked around town to find a place to camp. They had arrived late and most of the public parks and campgrounds were pretty full. They kept wandering to the edge of town until they found an older lady pulling weeds from her flower garden.

They introduced themselves and asked if they could impose to camp on the lawn.

"Are ya' married? Oh nevermind, I guess I'm just being old fashioned. Sure, go ahead. Backyard would probably be more private but it don't make me no nevermind."

They took her up on her offer and pitched one tent in the backyard which abutted another corn field.

"Do we need the second?" he asked.

"I think one will be enough."

They crawled into the tent, stripped down to their socks, and collapsed in a heap of arms and legs. After about fifteen minutes, she asked, "Are you awake?"

"I am now."

"You sure we can't eat that corn?"

"I'm sure."

"Then I think I have another idea for it."

She put on one of his t-shirts, grabbed an ear of corn, and stepped outside to shuck it, making sure to remove all of the corn silk. She realized the couple was watching her, sipping lemonade on their porch, and waved. They waved back.

She went back into the tent with the corn, and he sat up to see what she was up to. She stripped his t-shirt off over her head and knelt before him, knees spread, exposing her pussy.

"You said only pigs and cows eat this stuff?"

"Yep."

"Well, my pussy feels as hungry as a sow right now and Ms. Piggy wants some corn."

Despite the corniness of her simile, he got the picture, sitting up to hug and kiss her, and then rotating and laying her down on her back while he leaned above her. He held up the freshly shucked ear of corn and asked, "Are you sure? Looks pretty big."

She bit her lip and nodded.

He reached into his bag for his Butt Butter and squirted an oversized pond of make-do lubricant into his palm, raising the tube for dramatic effect and closing the distance like a Dairy Queen employee whipping up soft serve, complete with a cute little curlicue.

He dropped the bottle and picked up the ear of corn, lathering it slowly in front of her, intentionally and obviously covering every kernel, forming a faux pussy with his palm and fingers to let her know what she'd gotten herself into.

With his right hand, he positioned the cone of the ear against her outer lips, sinking just the kernelless end into her pussy, and stroking slowly up and down. She played with her nipples while his left hand applied light pressure to her pubic bone and his thumb played with her clit. Her hips bucked up to accept more of the corn - which retreated as he continued to tease her.

"Listen asshole, I fed you in your time of need, and now you're going to feed me in mine."

Her hips settled back to the ground, and he followed her momentum allowing her lips to swallow half the cob in one proverbial bite. She moaned loudly as he twisted the ear in her pussy, mimicking the stimulation of a studded dildo. He kept tickling her clit, and she started bucking her hips again, pumping the ear in and out of her, while he focused on spinning it back and forth like he was buttering sweet corn.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, she raised her back for one final thrust, and she screamed, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" holding her final position like a gymnast that just stuck the landing.

She collapsed into the ground, while he stroked the ear gently a couple of more times, slid it out of her pussy, and took a tentative lick. Delicious, he smiled.

"I'm glad you like it, but I wouldn't lick it all off. It's your turn."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...pretty sure I didn't agree to that."

She took a couple of deep breaths to recover, sat up, and started digging through her bag, coming up with a red ball gag. He knew he'd left some secrets unrevealed.

She knelt behind him and whispered in his ear. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but you just fucked me senseless with an ear of corn and I feel obligated to return the favor, so I don't care if you're on your back grabbing your ankles or on all fours like the animal you are, I'm going to fuck your ass until you squeal like a pig...because that's how Ned would've wanted it."

He could've walked out, pitched his own tent and called it a day, but her tone left no room for disagreement and - truth be told - made him look forward to the experience.

"Unless we want our hosts to think you're slaughtering livestock out here, we better do it the hard way." She positioned the ball in his mouth and cinched the strap around the back of his head, tight enough to stop him from screaming, but not so tight that he couldn't spit it out if he wanted to.

He knelt down, knees shoulder width apart, and rested on his forearms to provide as stable a platform as possible. She licked her thumb and buried a knuckle in his ass to get a baseline for the rest of the night. He wasn't an anal virgin, but anything larger than a pair of fingers and occasional butt plug was going to require some patience. She stroked his ass with her knuckle for a few minutes, whispering in his ear, "I'm going to love fucking you, hog. Your ass is so hungry for this corn, and I'm going to give it all to you."

She hooked her thumb and pulled up toward his back to create an opening for the corn. She took the ear that was still wet from her pussy and double stuffed him with its tip and her thumb, getting him used to the wider girth further down the cob. She spit on his ass for a little extra lube and whispered in his ear, "Are you ready?" He shook his head no...then nodded yes...and then leaned back into the cob to accept another inch.

They reversed their earlier roles, him pushing back and her rotating the ear side to side, more gently and more patiently than her pussy had required. Each minute his prostate was massaged allowed him to lean back another inch. Each rotation sent new sensations down his legs and weakened his arms.

Eventually getting impatient, she put one hand on his shoulder while the other gripped the phallus in his ass, and she rammed it into him spreading him out like a wrestler getting his oil checked and resulting in a closed mouth scream that could be heard around the block.

He laid splayed out on the floor of the tent, defenseless against her anal reaming, screaming into the ball gag and crying as the pain and pleasure overwhelmed him. She sat one knee on either side of him, her still aroused pussy moistening the small of his back. She gripped the ear of corn with both hands and plunged into him like he was a clogged toilet.

Finally deciding to take control of the situation, he returned to his hands and forearms - lifting her bodily with him - and put all of his weight on his left arm. She rode him like an inverted mutton buster, continuing her violations of his ass. He spit out the ball gag and again into his right hand and reached between his legs to stroke himself, assuming that once he came she'd stop.

They found a rhythm, him stroking his cock while she pumped his ass, until he was on the verge of cumming. Sensing he was close, she slid off his back and under his crotch. She took him in her mouth just in time to catch his load.

He collapsed to the side, careful not to crush her, corn still in his ass, and thoroughly spent. They both smiled, huffed, and puffed, and blindly tried to reach out and touch something of each other for connection.

"What are we going to do with this?" she asked as she slipped the shit creamed corn from his ass.

He slid into a pair of loose fitting pants and picked it up with two fingers, like a detective trying to preserve DNA evidence. He climbed out of the tent, took a couple of steps, and pitched the defiled husk into the field.

When he turned around, he saw that the couple was now weeding their back garden and turned beet red at the realization that they had to have heard everything.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. You think you're the first man to ever get pegged on RAGBRAI. How do you think we met?" she asked.

Her husband reached for her hand and breathlessly chuckled as they walked back to the house.