The Anal Invaders 04: Vive Le Tour!

Back again with this one, it has some real life situations and information, of course I changed some things (back in 2019, traveled to France before joining a cycling team and saw couple stages a few feet away of the cyclists). Despite the ending here, real was little different (she had no dick, of course), but I kept my saying, french women are hot and Vive Le Tour!

I must confess I love cycling. No need to hide it, the first race I saw was Tour de France 2006. Yeah, the end was a bit... dirty, Landis got caught cheating, and Pereiro, who ended 2nd, won the Tour seven months after its ending. But every sport in the world has its scandals and awkward moments, and despite all the dark side of cycling, I still in love. Since then, my dream was to travel to Europe and watch a race right in the middle of the action, and give my support and energies to the cyclists; well, not like those crazy ones, running half or completely naked in front of the cameras, they are just trying to get their one-minute of fame.

After some years, I felt attracted to practice cycling in my town. With great sacrifice I bought my first road bike and rode all over my neighborhood, believing I was a professional cyclist. Pretty soon my neighborhood wasn't big enough and decided to go outside, of course with all the protection and avoiding unnecessary risks only riding in empty streets or moving to countryside. All the practice developed my muscles, legs mostly; and I seriously thought in becoming a professional cyclist, so I began to ride with other local cyclist who usually train outside the city and made some good friends.

Besides the Grand Tours Giro, Tour, Vuelta; I love the spring cobble-dust classics Flanders, Roubaix, Strade, E3, and many others. Although I'm not very tall, I am 5'10", I have a lot of power in my legs, which allows me to keep a high pace in the flat roads, and enough technique to follow on the cobblestone roads; I prefer dust-sterrato. I became fan of Chris Froome in 2011, during Vuelta; he won it last year, after Juanjo Cobo's urine was examined to detect a substance that wasn't detectable in 2011 with the methods of that year, and enjoyed him winning all those Grand Tours, really loved his astonishing attack in Giro 2018.

2019 was good for me, or at least a little up an average year, so I decided to finally fulfill my dream and travel to Europe. I had some good savings and the opportunity was perfect to see my favorite cyclist conquering TdF for the fifth time. I bought my tickets and put in order all the mess with my passport, and after semester in college was over; in the last days of June, I prepare a backpack with enough clothes for the adventure.

I had no problems at the airport and took my flight. I spent all those hours listening to music, or playing a game in my phone; and slept during the last hour. We arrived to Paris without inconvenient and I stopped a taxi outside Charles De Gaulle Airport. Of course, it took me a while to tell the taxi driver where I was heading to, but when the language misunderstanding was clarified, everything went well.

"No shit, Paris is so beautiful," I told to myself during the ride. I was able to spot a few blocks on TV during the final stage in every TdF, but been there was totally different. Clean streets, lots of tourists like me, walking and taking pictures to post in the social media or visiting incredible and famous places. My goodness, if I focus in describing all things I saw, I wouldn't finish so I will pass to the moment I arrived to my hotel.

I stepped out, and paid the taxi driver, thanking him as well with the classical phrase "Merci monsieur." At least I wasn't completely speechless and came inside. A doorman opened the door, giving me the traditional welcome in french, and really fast, so I could not understand a single word, but two; I smiled and headed forward to check in. It was a fancy and nice hotel, and immediately attracted the attention, thanks to my clothes, just a t-shirt and shorts; probably not the typical profile of a tourist of that hotel but I didn't care.

I reached the reception's spot, a good-looking man was free and ready to serve the tourist, so I walked to his place, "Welcome to our hotel, monsieur, how can I help you?" the man said with a marked french accent, "Oh hi, I made a reservation one month ago... my name is Chris Dekker," I said and the employee checked the computer, "Oui monsieur, there it is. Your key, enjoy your stay" he said and gave me a card. I thanked him and walked to the elevator.

When the elevator stopped, I walked out and headed to my room, it only took me few seconds to be at the doorstep; then I used the card and opened the door, "Man, this will be the best experience ever," I thought and came in. I dropped my backpack on the bed and jumped around very happy, like a child with a new toy. Yeah, that's me; I bet if someone would have come inside in that precise moment, I would have ended as meme fodder.

By the time I was done with my stuff, it was late to go out, according to my own perspective, but I decided to give a go and put on a nice black shirt and pants and left my room. Checked my phone and I made sure battery was well and left the hotel, I breathed the fresh air of the parisian night and sighed... "Paris, here I go," I thought.

I headed to some fancy places, some squares and saw a lot of people, mostly tourist, "Wow, and I was thinking in staying at the hotel..." I thought and smiled. However, my good vibe wasn't enough and as I realized pretty soon, I was the only fool who was alone; maybe I had some fun at the beginning but lost the interest in less than an hour. The only good stuff was having the classic picture in front of the Eiffel Tower that night, and planned another one in the afternoon. I walked right into a local in front of the tower and ordered a coffee, well, I tried my best but at least the man understood I was a tourist and everything was fine.

You would wonder, why ordering a coffee at 11pm? Well, to be honest, I'm not a fan of coffee; yes, I'm not, but I didn't wanted to drink alcohol alone so coffee was perfect. I sat down in one of the tables outside the store and enjoyed the night. When I finished coffee, I regretted it, since it was summer time, "I'm a damn fool, great..." I thought and you will know why, five minutes later I was sweating like if I were doing exercise.

I guess my first night in Paris was a total fail. So I came back to the hotel, quick shower and bed. The next morning was slightly better and after breakfast, I was ready to go for my first day in the city. Stopping a taxi, I told the driver to take me to downtown to kick off my journey; once we arrived after lots of traffic, I began my own adventure.

I walked around downtown for several hours, summer heat was increasing and bought an ice cream to refresh, I saw many museums, theaters, historical and modern places. A charming city, the city of love... but I was alone. I didn't worry for that, normally I prefer to be alone most of the times so I can work my ideas and anything crazy stuff in my mind. Although I was a lonely tourist, that gave a small advantage, so I could watch every french hottie without having someone else having a long face next to me.

I made my way to return to Eiffel Tower once again, and asked a woman if she could take a picture with me. At first she refuse but then she smiled and said yes, so she asked another person to take the picture. I thanked her a lot and saw her from behind when she left, wow, that french butt was really nice. I continued my journey and decided to have a go with some alcohol so I bought a beer in a store, it really lifted up my spirit.

Watching Paris from the tower, I couldn't restraint and sighed, Paris was more beautiful at night. And, I decided to try the real joys of the parisian night; and followed some local people to a night club. I drank a bit and one hour later, I was enjoying a nice blowjob from a french girl, her name was Juliette. She gave me her number and I returned to the hotel, thinking that vacations would be awesome in any aspect.

I spent the next days with Juliette and she showed me more places of Paris. She was pretty and petite, blonde girl with blue eyes, a bit skinny but curvy at the same time; I enjoyed a lot with her company and sexual skills, can't lie. I stayed in Paris for two weeks, and it was time to travel to countryside, so I rented a bike for that; the Tour had already begun and people was excited because Alaphilippe was surprisingly in the lead.

Tour fever was in the air, all french were supporting Julian everywhere, in any place you could be able to see something in yellow; I rode for few days until I reached my first destination, right at Col du Tourmalet. When I arrived, temperature was around 34 Celsius and we received several warnings from local authorities to avoid unnecessary exposure and the most important thing, to carry water canteens. I climbed the mythical mountain pass and I need to say it was a supreme challenge, honestly I wasn't expecting a good pace from myself since I had been living wildly for two weeks.

I reached the summit after one hour and thirty minutes of pedaling, and dropped down exhausted and thirsty. I drank all my water and opened my backpack, looking and finding my treasure, energy bars. I ate three of them and felt better, however, weather wasn't exactly helping me out, but had to keep calm and wait for a fresh wind.

And there I was, a 19 years old brunette college boy all sweat and tired but happy. After giving a ten-minute massage to my legs I stood up and grabbed my things. I watched around a saw several people, from many countries, waving their flags or just riding their bikes; some were having their meal or cooking it. I was so happy, for the first time I would have the chance to enjoy my favorite sport and passion a few feet away of the road and not just yelling and jumping in front of television.

You would wonder what would I eat during my stay at Tourmalet? Before leaving Paris, I made sure to buy my favorite food: energy bars, brownies, sandwiches, peanut butter, melted chocolate and some sodas; yep, healthy food *giggles*. I'm the type of man who knows how to do things, but sometimes laziness is bigger than my will to do things, especially cooking, my main problem at college. On the other hand, I really missed my favorite snacks and well, why not having a less stressed summer time?

Enough of my thoughts, after I had my lunch recovery I walked around to see all people around. So I put on my Team Sky jersey and had my way. The first group I spotted were seven french guys, who were without shirts and drinking beer, "Lucky them," I thought and kept moving. I watched some RV's outside the road (very risky to my likes) and families together under big umbrellas, enjoying their foods or just having a good time playing cards or telling jokes. When I had about twenty minutes walking and exploring the place, I found a group of british guys, five to be exact, and three girls with them; most of them were blonde or black-haired but one, a tall red-head guy; who was the center of attention among his friends.

The guys, as most of young people around, weren't wearing shirts; just shorts, and the girls just had shorts and t-shirts without sleeves. I noticed a man with several Grand Tours jerseys and I felt the need to check them out, but when I was about to head there, I heard a peculiar voice tone close to me.

"Hello bud, a nice ambient, isn't it?" one of the black-haired UK folks was close to me and he talked to me. For a second I thought when he said "bud" it was "butt" so I didn't respond immediately. "Hello?" he said as I was a bit out of my mind.

"Ah, sorry, I thought you were speaking to someone else," I said.

"There's no one else around," he stated.

"Well, you're right. It is a nice ambient, tomorrow will be better," I admitted using a british accent.

"Are you from UK?" he asked.

"No, I'm american, and you?"

"Sheffield. My friends and I are here to enjoy the race, and to make some friends," he commented and asked me what brought me to France. I answered the same thing, plus looking some fun during vacations. We shook hands and James invited me a beer, which I didn't refuse.

He introduced me to his friends, all of them taller than me but two girls. Kinsley, Peter, Carlton were the blonde guys and Martin, the red-head joker. Girls' names were Sophie, Jill and Felicia, but they called her Fefe; only Jill was taller than me, Sophie had black hair and the others were blonde, they welcomed me and James brought some beers from a small portable fridge they had. They showed interest in my recent adventure in Paris and they told me they were there to support Thomas in the defense of his title, like I was doing since Froome was injured and missing the whole season.

I quickly understood why Martin was the center of attention, he was the spirit of the group, and really funny and I don't say this to every british. We drank a lot and had fun, and smoked some cigarettes after a long break; of course I managed to keep myself under control or things would have turned crazier. It seemed Sophie had some interest in me, but well, to be honest, neither her nor her friends called my attention at all; they were nice but nothing special.

They had two cars and insisted a lot to sleep inside, but I decided to sleep at top of the car, to watch the stars and enjoy the fresh wind after the suffocating heat of that day. My only request were a couple ciggies and there I was, watching the stars as the smoke flew away; I wondered about the race until that day, Alaphilippe had won the time trial and he seemed strong, but Thomas was right behind him, with Bernal, "This is going to be like 2012... unless Thomas has an off-day, which it could happen in any moment, considering all the remaining climbing," I thought. Like me, many were sleeping outside their cars/RV or inside small tents; and I thought that was suicide. I was feeling more tired every second and closed my eyes for a second and fell asleep.

I woke up early and stretched my body while the others were sleeping. One by one my new friends woke up and sitting down in the ground forming a circle we ate our breakfast. A couple hours later, some cars from the organization and teams showed up and cheered the people up, giving out jerseys, canteens and hats. With my souvenirs safe in my backpack, I got my phone ready to catch the moment of peloton arriving to our place in Tourmalet; a large number of policemen and guards covered the whole climb, and we stayed in the right side of the road, with our backs protected by the mountain to say it somehow.

A car from Radio Tour, official podcast of the race in English version kept us posted about the race situation while we were waiting for the main peloton and the favorites for the General Classification. The british club and I enjoyed the music from other people around or laughing out loud when we could be able to spot crazy people running in the middle of the road, naked or making fun of themselves. The weather was hot and I was sweating a bit, but some fresh wind made me thank God for it.

At the end, Thibaut Pinot won the stage and Julian kept the first place in the GC; we didn't celebrate a lot but we were really happy to watch the final climb. To me, was the best experience of my life, a dream fulfilled; in spite of the stage result, we drank that night and James offered me to join them in their next journey at Col d' Izoard and then in Paris. My original plan was to move back to Paris, but I thought it would be great to repeat the experience in another stage so I accepted the offer.

That night, with the beers working in my head, I decided to make my way with Sophie. To be honest, it wasn't a comfortable experience, since we were sharing two cars for nine people but it was good to release some tension out of my body. Also the noisy girl didn't keep it low, at the end Martin stuck his face in one of the windows trying to cheer me up; when we were done, I had to stand all the laughs and funny comments. I didn't care at all and also said my funniest comments either, Sophie begged me to sleep with her and well, I thought it was the least I could do.

We moved early when the sun rise up, to be on time at Izoard; we put my rented bike on the car and we had almost a week to reach our destination. We arrived two days before the stage could be hosted and parked the cars in a small parking area close to the base of Izoard and made our way by foot. After discussing it during our walk, we stopped in a zone covered by trees far away of the summit and sat down in the floor, trying to be careful of any sneaky ant making its way to our butts. Unfortunately, Martin couldn't avoid it and I took my chance to prank his sored butt a little, making everyone laugh; including him.

Before the sunset, we set the tents and applied some spray to avoid insects. We spent the next hours telling jokes or talking about any random topic rather than cycling or the race. My efforts to avoid Sophie were in vain and we ended up fucking like rabbits far from the group, a sheet in the ground made it for us. I didn't want to break her heart just like that, but damn; it was hard for me to speak straight and I couldn't sleep well that night, thinking in a good and gentle way to get out of the problem I was in.

The next day after the breakfast, I tried to tell her what I was feeling but it was difficult and I didn't say anything at the end. I'm not the kind of guy who just say, "Hey, it was great to fuck you but..." well, now I'm not that kind of guy; to be honest, maybe during my high school time I changed a little, or just a good excuse to avoid discussions. Eventually, I was feeling inside of me that the climax of my adventure was about to come, but I wasn't sure of the final results.

One of the things I don't like in the world, and I am 200% sure that is a common feeling among men; is having your way with a girl and then you noticed a woman hotter than yours. And, that was about to happen pretty soon. James realized there wasn't enough cigarettes for everyone and he asked me to go with him to get some packs that were in the car, I accepted for one reason only: to be far away of Sophie. Yeah I know, I know; it sounds cruel, but I also wanted fresh air and watched other people downhill.

The first part of the walk was good, thousands people around and having a good time. We took all the packs and returned as fast as we could, considering it was a steep climb and heat was unbearable. When we were returning, a few feet away of our spot we saw a minivan with four or five people, french all of them; but my eyes went quickly to one of them, the most beautiful woman I've seen so far in my life.

Her skin was a bit pale, her hair black looked like raven feathers; but damn the color was beautiful, she had a short hairstyle up to her neck. She seemed older than me, but oh gosh; at the same time she looked so hot wearing a polka dot jersey small and tight, her tits looked so round, yummy and provocative. The perfect complement for her legs, a small jean short, leaving her beautiful legs exposed; my first impression was wow, stunning french MILF of my same height.

I didn't know how, but I needed to go closer and with luck, try to talk to her. The rest of the afternoon I kept my eyes on their place and specifically on the french woman. In couple times James punched my ribs with his elbow, knowing I was daydreaming; but I didn't say anything until I could be able to find a good moment. Yes, one of my negative skills is, I improvise too much and depending on how the things happen, I adapt my plan to the circumstances; and the final result is uncertain, 50/50 of possibilities.

When circumstances allow it, I sneaked away from Sophie and walked in the middle of the road, with a cigarette on. I pretended to be watching the sky during sunset and smoking my ciggie, while moving closer to the minivan group, that were sit down around a small table drinking and having fun. I walked just a few feet away of them and looked at them quickly, or I just checked the french hottie closer; of course as I was the only one who was walking there, they looked at me, I could noticed she also looked at me because I looked over my shoulder discreetly; as I didn't want to look too obvious.