The Biker Ch. 01

[ This story is from my personal experiences. It began in November 2013.

The Biker Ch. 01 - Watching an exhibitionist masturbate.

(If you think you've read this story before, the first two chapters appeared briefly in a thread on the Fetish & Sexuality Central forum. New material begins in chapter 3.)

(c) SandraMustard 2014 ]

Living in a warm climate that allows outdoor activities year-round, my husband and I love to ride our bikes, sometimes 4-5 times in a single week. Usually we're together but maybe one time in twenty, I'm by myself. There are bike trails, parks, and even a conservatory that give us many options.

We encounter a lot of other riders, walkers, and joggers. We have begun to recognize some of the regulars because either we see them so often or they have some identifiable trait. Which brings me to the biker I have nicknamed Captain America because of the red, white, and blue clothing he always wears. His helmet is also patriotic in its coloring. He often wears dark blue or bright red biker leggings, the tight ones made of Lycra, although he has worn some other type of loose shorts on occasion. He is a very trim young man, probably in his early twenties. I have seen him going the other way and been passed by him.

After he passes, I have seen his cute buttocks flexing inside the tight fabric just in front of me. My thoughts are usually unladylike. Meeting him head on, I've noticed his tight leggings stretched across his groin, showing the outline of his cock as he pedals (that's why they're called banana seats, right?) On one solo ride, I saw him standing along the trail, water bottle in hand. As I drew near, he lifted the bottle to his mouth and leaned back as he drank. His posture thrust his hips forward and his cock pressed outward, its helmet ridge well defined as he faced the early morning sun. I stopped pedaling and looked at his crotch as I coasted by.

Last November, I went out alone for a late morning ride. After several miles, Captain America went past and offered a cheery greeting. I responded and ogled his cute butt. Even though he wore loose shorts, his posture still pulled them tight across his ass. I pedaled faster and managed to pace him for a while; he may not have been going as fast as he usually does.

When we entered the conservatory, he turned off and stopped at the bathrooms while I continued my regular route. I made my customary stop at a bench to drink some water and rested for perhaps ten minutes, checking my phone for messages. Eventually I resumed my ride. I came to another rest bench at a trail junction. I saw someone sitting there and soon recognized the red, white, and blue jersey; Captain America had come the other way around the circular trail. On a hunch, I decided to make another stop on the pretense of taking a drink and looking at the trail map posted there.

I kept my head facing down the trail as I came to a stop about ten feet in front of him but I was peeking over at him behind my sunglasses. He was sitting with his legs spread open, a fleshy object visible inside the loose left leg opening of his shorts. I played a game with him. I kept my apparent vision in other directions as I dismounted and fussed with my bike. I watched him. His fidgety moves suggested he was nervous. His hand checked his shorts and tugged them back a little more. I took a drink from my water bottle ... and slowing turned to face him.

I made it obvious that I spotted his cock. I stopped in mid-swallow; then lowered the bottle to look straight at his crotch. I let my mouth open in faux surprise. He turned his head sideways to look back up the trail, pretending he didn't know what I could see. His dick couldn't pretend. Slowly his glans stretched out into the sunshine and lifted off the bench.

I stared. He looked at me then looked away again, this time the other direction. His cock, swelled to a beautiful full erection, was sticking out several inches and beginning to angle upward. I couldn't prevent a big smile that showed my enjoyment any longer. I put my water bottle back in its holder and walked toward the bench.

Captain America looked terrified that I would approach so close. He even closed his legs but the three inches of cock lying outside his shorts and against his thigh was still visible. I stood over him looking at the map behind his shoulders. I realized I could hear his short panting breaths. He was getting excited and I decided that I wanted to watch him cum if I could.

I removed my sunglasses and peered closely at the map. When I straightened, I looked down at him looking up at me. I let him see my eyes drift to his exposed cock and linger. I smiled purposefully yet he seemed frozen, unable to act. I tried talking to him. "I just love this place. Have you ever ridden completely around it? There's so much to see."

"The sand is too soft and deep for the thin tires on my bike." He either missed or ignored my innuendo. His voice was higher pitched than when he offered greetings on the trail. He was so nervous, I feared he was going to take off. I had worries too that this man with his cock sticking out could grab me; a quick twitch would have made me jump out of my skin.

We both heard the sound of a small engine approaching. I watched him reach down to tug his shorts over his cock. A ranger drove by in his four-wheeler, waving hello at us before heading away. To give us both some space, I walked back to my bike and moved a few feet into the trail intersection. I could see all four directions and the ranger almost reaching a distant bend.

I turned to see the young man standing now; the view from his side let me see his cock lifting out against the front of his shorts. An impulse suggested it was now or never. "You have a beautiful cock. I haven't seen a young one like yours in a long time. Would you consider jerking off for me?"

"Really? Do you really want me to?" I nodded. "Do you want to help?"

"No, I'll just watch from here." He sat down on the bench and reached up the leg of his shorts. "No, stand up, please. Drop your shorts so I can see everything. No one is coming." I glanced in all directions to demonstrate my vantage point.

He not only dropped his shorts but pulled his jersey off, too. My heart began to race as I looked at this naked young man with zero-percent body-fat standing like Adonis in front of me. He had no body hair except his armpits and pubes, and a six-pack abdomen. His cock was probably eight inches when fully hard. He made the most of his opportunity with a willing observer. He pumped with dramatic strokes. A bit of pre-cum dripped off his cock, catching sunlight like spider silk. My own juices wetted my sex as I imagined his sturdy member sliding into me. With a pronounced groan, he arched his back and spewed his seed through the air. He staggered back as more spurts gushed out, finally collapsing onto the bench.

"Wow! That was great! You really made my day." I left hastily, afraid of being alone with the naked man.

I told my husband about the encounter. He suggested I should have helped him stroke! When I admitted my carnal thoughts, he said, "I bet you'd still be smiling." Did my hall pass mean I should jump on any cock I see? No, not just any cock I see, but yes, any cock I wanted.