The Bike Ride Which Led to Love

Author's notes : This is very obviously a made-up story. We do meet as a bunch of people on Sundays for a ride, all the places are indeed real (look them up on Google Maps) and well travelled.

I will add that the girl in the story is real as well, although I am pretty sure that she will not be reading this little piece.

I am a keen bike fan, and have tried to mix my love of bicycles with a love story. At first I was thinking of this being the first chapter of a longish story, but my ideas wander in and out, and decided that it would be a standalone.

Perhaps down the line I will think about adding another story to make it a two part series. But not for know.

***

Every Sunday, without fail, a group of people, just about labelled as cyclists would meet at the roundabout barely five minutes up the road from where I live. We would sometimes be five, ten, twenty, or more. We never made plans on who was coming or how many we would be.

We just met, and went for an approximately twenty mile leisurely ride. Ages would range between fourteen and seventy. Our pace was always very placid, very much in keeping with our tradition of a social gathering.

Today the weather was really terrible. Warm winds were blowing from the south and pretty soon, the numbers were in the high nineties. I disliked the heat intensely, and usually skipped very hot sessions.

But on this day I decided to throw caution to the wind and get my bike ready. Three iced bottles, my usual toolkit, and my spare mobile phone went into the saddle bag. I carried my Trek gravel bike down the stairs, grumbling, not for the first time, why the hell I had decided to not choose the bottom apartment. Granted, the upper floor apartment had a largish patio, but it wasn't as if I was using it regularly.

I took a breather, put on my helmet, a Giro Vanquish costing more than a hundred euros, checked the tyres again for pressure, brake cables functioning correctly, and mounted the bike.

The street behind my home opened to a large parking area belonging to the primary school, and beyond that was the new road linking the central area of the island to the South East, where the majority of us lived.

I traversed that via the pelican lights crossing, annoying a couple of motorists who could not understand why I did not use the underpass. I gave them the bird and continued on my way. Fucking tin-can warriors.

Arriving at the usual meeting place I was not surprised to see that there was only one other person there. It was hot way beyond anything I had ever experienced, and it was still only nine in the morning. Maltese summers tend to be scorchers.

"Hiya Kati", I greeted the girl. Katinka was a Czech girl who had come to live in Malta with her parents when she was just a kid. Kati, as we called her, was a kid no more these days.

Tall and strong, nice butt and large breasts which strained at her cycling top way too much. Granted she wore a sports bra, but it was always nice to see her. She was a bit chunky, but it all added to the definition of a gorgeous girl.

Kati rode what society has always termed as a ladies bike. Or, in cycling terms, a step-through. The name "ladies bike" was coined in an earlier era when women wore large voluminous skirts. Hocking one leg over the seat or a top tube was not considered too lady-like. Hence the looping frame. I had one of them too, an Orbea Boulevard which I used for urban cycling. Definitely far more comfortable than the gravel bike I was riding today.

"Hey yourself, Chris. How's it hanging?" Kati had no hang-ups about jokes we men usually indulge in. Being a Czech (she came from Liberec, Northern part of the country), she was far more liberal than any local girl I knew. She often regaled us with tales of swinging parties which seemed to be the norm in her country of origin.

"Hanging fine thanks" I replied with a smile. I liked Kati. Too much, actually. I mostly rode alongside her on our weekly outing.

"I know there's still ten minutes to go before deadline time, but I'm willing to guess nobody else will show up."

"Yeah. It's too hot isn't it?"

"I was planning on riding to Karwija behind the airport. My uncle has a piece of farmland and a small place there. Quiet, secluded, decent place with a small pool."

"That's cool", I replied. "I can ride there with you and leave you while I go on."

"Or you could stay and we enjoy the day. Have a nice swim. Make a day of it. Relax a bit."

"That would be great." I agreed. "If you wait for me I can go home and grab my swimming shorts."

"Aw bollocks. I don't have a bathing suit either." Kati held her hand over her mouth as she giggled.

Wow. I thought of the options in my mind. She definitely would not want expensive cycling shorts marred by the chlorine. Lycra wear was expensive.

"Sure. No problem. Uh. Food though?"

"Christ, you idiot. We're going to a farmhouse owned by my family. You can't possibly think there's no food there do you? I did bring a few sandwiches with me, but just for a snack. Aunty Jodie assured me there's enough food to feed an army."

I shrugged. "What's keeping us then? Let's go."

We mounted our bikes and turned down Santa Lucija, past the church and up Pine Drive, turning into "Garnaw Alley", then left into "Santu Kristu" pathway. This led us to the road leading to the international airport, which we traversed on the interior road-ring, a bike/walking path all around our airfield. At the top end of the runway, we turned right into "Sqaq il Karwija", or Karwija Alley, a charming mesh of alleyways and little country lanes.

The sun had climbed higher by the time we arrived. Katinka was never a fast rider, and I chafed at the bit, preferring to live my life in the fast lane, but I enjoyed talking to her, as usual. She was a very intelligent woman, very much my equal, except where it came to motor vehicle engines, where she stripped me bare to the bone. Electronics was my forte'.

Her face was red with effort, mostly due to the heat, and I have to admit that my discomfort was also very high. Watering stops were mandatory and it felt good to quench the thirst.

"No need to skimp" she said, as she poured a generous amount of water down her cleavage. My eyes nearly popped out. "Plenty of water where we're going."

We finally arrived at a large two-leaf brown wooden gate with the sign "Clearwell Cottage" on it. Kati dismounted, rested her bike against one of the stone pillars holding up the gates, and rummaged in her handlebar bag for what I could only surmise, was the key.

"Your family own Clearwater?" I finally asked.

"Yeah. they've had it for many decades now."

I had always wondered who this handsome building belonged to, and now my curiosity was sated. She opened one of the gates and rolled her bicycle to an awning which provided shade.

I puffed, sweaty with the heat. It was indeed, not ideal cycling temperature.

Katinka removed her helmet and closed the gate before proceeding to remove her shoes, socks, and cycling bib. This left her in her bike shorts and sports bra. Being white, it really did not hide anything. We were sweaty and the end result could be seen through the soaking clothes. My bib was drenched, and I took it off immediately, relishing the slightly cooler air in the shade.

My clipless shoes were the next to go, as were my short cotton socks.

I looked around and I could see the pool there, glistening in the sunlight. Kati was right, it wasn't very big, but it was wet enough, and that was all I needed.

"I really need to cool down" she said.

"Damn right you are." I replied.

Up close I thought I could smell the water. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Kati take off her shorts, no underwear, as was usual with cyclists. God what an ass she had!

I removed my shorts as well, my slightly above average cock taking in the sun. Damn that felt good. So I was about to go skinny dipping with a girl who I only knew from our rides. I didn't care at all. I turned to look at her, and Kati made a beautiful show of removing her sports bra over her head.

Big beautiful breasts tumbled into view. Pale white orbs tipped with two pink areolas, with stiff nipples on show. My dick started throbbing and I was quickly on my way to a hard-on.

I saw that Katinka was looking at my cock, sailing past half-mast, on its way to a full blown erection.

"I'm sorry." I shook my head at her.

"Don't be. I'm actually happy I could do that to you."

"You're kidding right? You're fucking beautiful."

Her hair, totally wet from her sweaty helmet, was cut in the Egyptian way, straight at the front, and as she raised her arms to push it back, her breasts changed shape, rising up her chest. I had lost all pretense of being embarrassed, and I stared lustily at her. My cock had expanded and grown, aching beyond belief as I gazed upon her nakedness.

My uncurcimcised head popped out of its sheath and I hissed with pleasure. I loved it when that happened.

Kati stood proudly before me, every inch a desirable woman, unashamed of her luscious body.

"Have you ever skinny dipped before?" she asked.

"Ah, not really. Gym, but they were all guys. Total sausage fest. Not a peep from my little buddy here."

"Little buddy? I don't think so. In Liberec we have rivers which cater only for clothing optional relaxation. It's a way of life. Come on, the water looks great."

She saw me grinning as I headed with a quick stride towards the pool.

"Wait! Don't jump in head-first. It's not that deep."

I wasn't planning on doing that for sure. Always scope the terrain, was my motto. In this case, it was water, but still.

I still jumped in, though feet first and cannonballing it. As I dipped below the surface, I opened my eyes and could see that it was less than six feet deep. I touched bottom just as Kati's feet and thighs came into view at the sides.

Surfacing, I shouted in delight. This was rad. I looked at my friend, submerged to within her eyes, sighing in pleasure.

"This is wonderful. Thanks for the invitation K."

"You're welcome. But please don't call me K. I'm not a letter of the alphabet"

I grinned at her. "Ok. Sorry."

I would love to say that we spent an hour in the pool groping each other and having wild sex. But I can't. Because we simply moved over to the shaded part of the water, and talked about bikes. Or how electronics could help cycling in general.

Massive inroads were being made with ebikes these days, and we threw suggestions back and forth. She had a brilliant mechanical engineering brain, while I was good with ideas on solar farming, regenerative braking, power handling as well as battery maintenance.

Her ideas on replacing the chain with a drive shaft were revolutionary at best, but her theories held up. A chain is 95% effective. But messy. And prone to breakages and wear. A drive shaft unit would, in theory be less efficient, at around 92%, but it was neater, cleaner, quieter, did not wear out, and had no problems of being ever out of true.

"Look at my bike. Tell me what you see."

I turned in the water and looked at her bicycle. It hit me then. She had no chain on her bike. How did I not notice that before? the bike DID indeed look different, but it looked so good and clean.

"What model is that?" I asked.

She sat back on the pool steps, resting on her elbows, and her breasts floated to the surface. Big, white, presumably soft. Beautiful.

Kati caught me looking at them hungrily.

"Looking at my boobies?" she asked cheekily.

I held up my arms. "I'm sorry. Can't help it. Guy. Boobs. You know how it is. Well, I hope you do, because I certainly can't."

"Just yanking your chain. I don't mind. It's not as if I haven't looked at yours."

We laughed. It seemed strange. Hanging out with a friend, naked in a pool which obviously hid nothing at all, and making fun of our intimate parts.

"So, back to bikes. That is a Biomega Copenhagen Shaft Drive Bike. Probably the only one in Malta, I would say.

The Biomega is, as you can see, a shaft drive bicycle -- when you push on the pedals, instead of turning a chain to rotate the rear wheel and move the thing forward, they turn a drive shaft via a bevel gear, turning the rear wheel via a drive shaft. It's all housed in an aluminium case that doubles up as the chain stay.

The hub is an automatic eight speed Shimano Nexus. I can't explain exactly how it works except that it does so beautifully. It even has a mercury level in it which determines if I am pedaling slowly because I am on the level, and thus, a higher gear, or if I am on an incline, and so, a lower gear. The hub also has a coaster brake, so the machine is very clean. No moving parts except the wheels and the pedals. Just a single cable for the front disc brake.

The interesting thing about riding this is that not only can you not see anything moving, you also can't feel it either, which leads to a rather peculiar sensation of gliding down the road. When you've become so accustomed to dragging that wheel around with a chain or belt drive, there's actually a rather surreal quality to propelling yourself across the tarmac with no visible link to the back wheel from your feet -- well, almost. If you really focus hard there's the slightest sense of resistance from the drive shaft, but out on the road, with tarmac surface and traffic to contend with, it's a non-issue.

You'll need to ride it to appreciate it."

She REALLY was an intelligent girl. Her explanation was superb. And she was right, I had to ride that.

"Do you get everywhere on it?" I asked.

Like I said, I knew Katinka just from our rides. I didn't even KNOW where she lived.

"I don't have a car. I don't even HAVE a license to drive. Everywhere I go, it's on Betsy."

I grimaced. I did have a car, and I DID use it a lot. I wasn't too keen on commuting. While gravel bikes, and all bicycles in general can get you anywhere, they weren't too efficient when your day sometimes included five company calls with various computers, monitors or printers after repair. I won't mention the massively hilly country I live in.

"May I ask where you live?" I asked.

"Sure. Zabbar. Just beyond the arch. In the new housing area. I have a small garage I wheel it in every night. My apartment is on the second floor. Betsy weighs over 15 kilos with panniers. That's about 33 pounds, but honestly, you just don't feel it. Unless you are carrying it up two flights of tight stairs, that is."

I really looked at her bike then, and realised that it was built like a tank. Typical Danish, over engineering everything. The large square downtube was a mystery. Why would it not be round? And why was it so thick?

We continued talking until she exclaimed that she was hungry. I agreed with her. My hands had begun pruning, and I stood up in this shallow end of the pool. Despite the totally innocuous conversation, my cock was still up and hard, throbbing a vivid red.

Kati's face was towards me, and my cock was only a couple of feet from her gaze. She gasped at the sight of it.

It was my turn to call her off. She grinned.

"Sorry. It's beautiful. Thick and hard. The only way a penis should be."

"No apologies milady. We're both adults. These things happen."

I helped her out of the water, and as she emerged, she misbalanced and rested against me. Her breasts leaned on my chest. Jesus Christ. They WERE soft and pliant. My cock caught around her lower stomach, a slight bulging. It felt so good.

She moved away all too soon for my liking as we walked towards the low building.

"Are you going to put any clothes on?" I asked her.

"Does it bother you if I don't?" she replied.

I shrugged. "Not at all. I'll inform you though that I find this very erotic and I will probably spend the day with an erection."

"It's cool with me. Flattering really. Not usual that I have that effect on people. Big butt, swingy boobs, a slight paunch. Not really model material."

Her voice was tinged with a little sadness.

"I have very few friends in life. Even less lovers. Many find me intimidating, or too strong willed. Not many seem to appreciate that here."

"Yep!" I agreed with her. "While we have successful and popular women in the field of technology, especially electronics, there is a marked suspicion upon women who excel in mechanical engineering. I don't have an explanation for it, sadly. But hey, I'm your friend. Your naked friend, I might add. You have no problems with me. I find you hot."

She laughed, breaking the short unhappy mood.

"You know what? I like you. Non judgmental. Straightforward. Honest. you ARE a friend."

I just had to hug her. the sun had dried us in no time at all, and our warm bodies met with much softness (from her side), and much excitement (from mine). It felt good. Our touching lasted all of five Mississipis, and I have to admit that if possible, my cock got harder.

"Does that thing go down at all?" she asked, as she felt my hardness down her thighs.

"It really has a mind of its own, as they say. That's not a cliché. I really have little control. And to be totally frank with you, I'm naked in the sun with a superbly beautiful woman, equally as nude as I am, and I am really turned on. A couple of shakes and I'll probably have an accident. Even without shakes, probably."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't... uh.. can't possibly have an accident without touching your... thing. Can you?"

I nodded. "It wouldn't be the first time for sure. I'd like to apologize beforehand if it does. Like I said, no control."

"I've never seen that in real life." Katinka said.

"In a movie perhaps?" I implied quietly.

"Perhaps." she smiled shyly. "Would be nice to see it sometime in real life."

I shook my head, and gestured for her to go inside. That's all I needed. It would be so embarrassing.

The farmhouse was quite modernly restructured. Four or five steps led down into a small courtyard, ostensibly to keep the height of the dwelling as low as possible. The front door held a key code access behind a fake plastic leaf, and as she entered the combination, the latch unlocked and we went in.

From outside, the place was deceptively small. A largish kitchen, dining and relax area was at the front, while a further six steps at the end of the huge room probably led to bedrooms and bathrooms. That meant they were totally underground. I wondered about daylight and fresh air, and thought I would ask later.

Kati gave me the tour, sensing my interest. A modern kitchen with all mod-cons, large circular dining table easily seating eight diners, and on the side, a large sofa with a huge tv set in the middle. Great looking sound system as well. Bose. Expensive and totally our of character in my mind.

The steps led to four large bedrooms, all with an ensuite shower, and a bathroom at the very end of the corridor. My curiosity about lack of windows was explained when I saw that there were large skylights set in the ceiling. As one can imagine, the lighting was awesome.

The largest bedroom had a wall to wall wardrobe, adorned with mirrors, and I looked at our reflections in the mirrors. I was tall and well muscled, but no overly so. Kati was my height, but fuller, more appealing, blonde, beautiful breasts. Again, my cock was still hard as nails.

The light in this room was more yellowish than the others, and I could see that the glass on the roof was stained with oranges and yellows, a swirling of moods and tempos.

I looked across to her and smiled. Perhaps this had the premise of something interesting to come.

We looked at each other in quiet thoughts. I don't think anything would happen, but if it did, then it would be here. It seemed right.

I wondered if Kati had the same thoughts as I did. I looked at her again. Lust was obviously visible in my eyes.