Almost Perfect

Helen didn't like to make a fuss. It was such a small shop. She smiled and apologised for being a nuisance. The bicycle she was interested in -it was red, her favourite colour- rested on a stand against the wall. The floor before it was an assault course of open cardboard boxes and bicycle parts.

"I like the big red one," she told the owner, and immediately blushed for no good reason.

"Good choice," he said. "If you'll just step to one side.."

There really wasn't anywhere to move but Helen stepped forward so that he could slip behind her. She felt his hand on her hip gently guiding her and then gasped in surprise as he unexpectedly moved it lower and gave her right cheek a friendly, lingering squeeze.

She twisted sharply to look at him but he'd already squeezed past and was nudging the boxes aside with his foot as if nothing had happened.

"It's a steel frame," he said, reaching for the bicycle and taking it down from the stand. "A lot of people prefer aluminium these days.." He grunted as he set it down then looked at her and smiled, "-But you get a much better ride with steel.."

Helen knew that she should say something but the right words wouldn't come and her blush deepened as the owner patted the saddle.

"Aluminium is denser. Stiffer. Gives a much harder ride," he said. "But you can't beat steel for comfort."

His dark eyes sparkled warmly as he looked at her and Helen found herself nodding uncertainly as she realised the moment to complain had already passed.

"Coil-sprung saddle," he went on. "Built for comfort. You could sit on one of these all day."

"I just want to ride to the shops," she heard herself explain. There was something about the direct way he looked at her that made her want to avoid his eyes. She watched his hand as he began to caress the saddle. He had very clean, very big hands.

"Soft isn't any good," he explained. "As you probably know, you need something stiff for a good ride.."

She looked up warily but there was nothing in his expression that showed he meant anything other than what he said. Nothing suspicious, only his pleasant smile and sparkling eyes.

"Of course, this one needs adjusting," he went on knowledgeably. "I need to take your inside leg measurement. If the saddle's too high you'll feel it rubbing your crotch, and who wants that? I've got a tape measure here somewhere."

His words kick started an instant panic chain reaction. Helen gaped at him, shocked and surprised, and then found she couldn't meet his disarming smile and quickly looked away. She found herself babbling, "-There's no need.. I don't want to put you to any trouble. I'll just take it as it is. I'm sure my husband can sort it out.."

She blushed furiously as she searched in her handbag for her credit card. Her hand trembled as she offered it but he made no move to take it and when she found the courage to look at him she saw he had a hand thrust deep into his trouser pocket.

"I have it here somewhere," he smiled, as if she'd said nothing.

Helen found her gaze drawn irresistibly to the movement of his hand. Something big stirred in the front of his trousers. It wasn't his hand, she could see his hand rooting deep inside his pocket.

"-Here it is," he said, but it was another second or two before she could belatedly tear her eyes away from the noticeable bulge in his trousers.

He showed her a rolled cloth tape measure but Helen barely saw it.

"A lot of people don't realise the importance of correctly fitting a bicycle to the rider," he said. He stood the bicycle in a frame that held the back wheel and supported it. "Inside leg measurement is of paramount importance. Remember what I said about a badly adjusted saddle rubbing your crotch?"

Helen nodded absently as he came closer and now his dark eyes sparkled with a deeper intensity than before.

"The action of pedalling," he explained slowly "-causes you to move around on the saddle. The effect is more noticeable the further you ride. Every little bump in the road is transferred through the frame directly to your sensitive crotch..."

Smiling he stood before her with the tape measure.

Helen still held the credit card and now she slowly returned it to her handbag. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from his.

"I should have worn trousers," she said, watching numbly as he knelt before her.

He shook his head gently and smiled up at her, "Not at all. I think a thin summer skirt is much more alluring and attractive. For accuracy, we need this very tight against your crotch so you should probably raise your skirt."

Helen swallowed. She seemed unable to think clearly. His soft voice and smiling eyes had bewitched her.

Slowly, very slowly, she drew up her skirt as he gently nodded encouragement.

"-If you could take off your shoes and open your legs a little? I need room for my hand."

She did so, and slipped off each shoe, and placed her feet a little apart.

"A little higher?" he whispered softly, and she felt his hand on hers, gently assisting her.

Helen found herself staring at the opposite wall where a faded Tour de France poster held her gaze. She saw the riders and the mountains in the background as she felt his hand against her pussy, warm there, and gentle and intimate. She held her breath as he ran the tape down her leg. His fingers moved imperceptibly between her legs and the pressure increased. He almost seemed to be probing her, pressing gently but carefully. The faces of the riders on the poster began to blur and Helen closed her eyes.

She was vaguely aware of the shop owner speaking to her but his voice seemed to come from a long way away. Her pussy felt unusually sensitive to the smallest movements of his fingers. He seemed to be rubbing her now, very gently, very pleasantly. She was aware that she was breathing faster and tried to control it, to hold off the sensations his movements aroused. She bit her lower lip and held her breath but her pleasure continued to increase. Her grip on the gathered folds of her skirt tightened where she held it. She didn't think she could stop what was about to happen but suddenly his hand was gone.

She opened her eyes and he was already turning away and reaching for something on a shelf.

"It won't take a moment to adjust the saddle," he said.

Helen saw him take a spanner down and she found herself looking at his broad back as he bent over the bicycle. Her gaze shifted to the right to the front of the shop and it took her a moment or two to realise that she could see people passing the window. She snatched her hands away from her skirt and let it fall back into place.

"-That should do it," the owner said, still with his back turned. "I think this will be an almost perfect fit for you.."

He turned and Helen found herself staring at him in a dazed state of confusion. Her pussy tingled and missed the pleasant touch of his fingers. She could feel her heart racing. When he suggested she put her shoes on again she did so mechanically. She watched his face, looking for a sign, a change of expression, anything that might indicate that what was going on was out of the ordinary or unusual, but there was nothing.

He smiled and motioned her forward and she couldn't seem to look away from his eyes as she stepped towards him.

"-You want to be able to touch the floor with one foot," he told her.

Helen nodded absently and stepped through the frame and raised herself backwards onto the saddle. Up close she could smell his aftershave.

"Just move yourself around on the saddle," he instructed. "Get a feel for it, you know?"

She did so cautiously. The owner didn't move away but remained close beside her and watchful. She took hold of the handlebars.

"A wide saddle gives more support, especially on this type of model where you ride in a more erect position."

Helen said nothing as the shape of the saddle between her legs rekindled the pleasant tingling sensations aroused by the owner's fingers.

"Now if you could just place one foot on the pedal.."

She did so by touch, without looking. The pleasant sensations between her legs seemed magnified by his voice and by his closeness. She held her breath as his hand touched her knee and boldly moved upwards raising her skirt.

"This leg, when your foot is on the pedal, should be almost straight, you see?"

Helen nodded but all she could think of was his hand now under skirt and lightly caressing her inner thigh.

"It's more efficient that way, more power is transmitted from your thigh, through the knee, to the calf."

As he spoke he leaned closer, bending to touch each place.

"A straight line of power," he continued softly, and began to raise his hand again, "-gives the greatest riding satisfaction."

Helen's pent up breath escaped as once again his finger tips caressed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. His hand rose almost to her pussy then moved down again. Up, and down again, as he talked quietly.

"There's a good deal of debate about the best riding positions. Some favour the more old fashioned approach, a good erect position. The steeper the frame angles, the faster and more responsive the ride, but it all depends on an individuals personal preferences. Not everyone wants to go fast..."

Helen barely heard much of what he said. All her senses seemed absorbingly concentrated on the movement of his hand beneath her skirt, the way it moved teasingly closer to her pussy, lingered heart stoppingly, then moved away again. It seemed to go on forever. There was nothing but the sound of his voice, his closeness, and the stimulating feather light caress of his fingers.

Staring straight ahead and without thinking she put both feet on the pedals and the stand that held the back wheel supported her.

Now he put his lips close to her ear. "... some people prefer a slower, but longer, and infinitely more satisfying ride..."

Her hands tightened on the handlebar as he moved behind her. She knew he must be standing astride the back wheel and she stiffened and shivered with pleasure as he brushed her hair aside and delicately kissed the back of her neck. She wasn't shocked when she felt his large hands take possession of her breasts. She welcomed the eager touch of his hands as he lifted and squeezed and explored them. She felt no shame when he whispered for her to stand on the pedals, only spiralling excitement as he reached beneath her skirt and eased down her panties. She sat when he told her, the saddle warm and exciting against her naked, tingling pussy. His hands on her hips encouraged her to squirm, to feel the texture of the saddle, and Helen moaned softly.

He kissed her neck again, sending shivers down her spine, and she didn't resist when he took both of her hands and guided them to her pussy. She trembled as she felt his big hands on her own encouraging her to touch herself. She was soaking.

Now his hands moved again to her breasts, caressing and squeezing. He opened her blouse as he kissed her neck as she touched herself with trembling fingers. He unfastened her bra and raised the cups freeing her breasts. His excitement was contagious as he held them and nibbled her ear lobe and teased her hard nipples. Glancing down she saw his hands lifting and then pressing them together. Lower she saw her panties stretched from one leg to the other. When he urged her again to stand on the pedals she took hold of the handlebars and did so. He pushed her panties all the way down and she extracted one foot to leave them hanging sodden from the other.

He lifted her skirt and kissed her bottom. She felt his hot breath and the touch of his lips and Helen leaned forward over the handlebars, presenting her bottom. His hands held her cheeks apart and she felt his tongue flicking and darting around her asshole. Her pussy spasmed as she felt his thick fingers exploring her wetness. She shuddered at the touch of his hand smearing her juices.

Now he began to move her backwards. Helen sat on the saddle. He wanted her to lie along the bicycle and she did so, supporting herself on the handlebars, looking down, her hair in her eyes, her breasts hanging. He put her feet on the floor either side of the bicycle. She waited expectantly and then felt his cock between her pussy lips, his head thick and exciting, pressing deeper, gently entering her from behind. Her grip tightened on the handlebars as she felt him push. She sucked in a deep breath and held it as he began to fill her, bigger than anything she'd known. His hands held her hips and he pushed again, more of him, thick and powerful slipping smoothly inside her. She closed her eyes and moaned. He felt enormous. She gasped as he continued to fill her. She began to pant and then she knew by his closeness he was finally all the way, buried beautifully deep inside her. She opened her eyes, hardly daring to breath, as she felt his solid thickness. She saw her naked breasts, her bra, her open blouse, the red frame of the bicycle.

His hands caressed her hips, kneading her flesh, she could hear him breathing, and then slowly and deliberately, he began to fuck her. She groaned as she felt him move inside her. Her breasts began to sway and the bicycle began to rock beneath her, as she felt his full, exciting length thrusting smoothly and powerfully. She began to push back to meet each thrust and she heard and felt the arousing sound they made as their bodies came solidly together. He began to move faster and the sound came more frequently and with it the familiar and welcome sense of rising urgency. She increased her own efforts to keep pace with him, pushing violently back with her hips to meet him and take as much as he could give. He began to groan. Helen was aware of nothing beyond the urgent, rising sensation of pleasure their frantic movements aroused. She couldn't keep going but she did, hungry and desperate for satisfaction. She felt him stiffen, become even harder, even bigger inside her and her climax took possession of her. She could hear herself moaning, feel his cock thrusting violently inside her, everything overlaid and mixed together and lost with the spasms of pleasure that welled up like waves to a peak, then broke to rise again. She knew they were both grunting, both sweating and straining, lost in themselves, in the shocking but wonderful throes of pain and pleasure. His fingers tightened on her hips and she felt his cock spasm as he flooded her with his scalding cum. His final, deep shuddering thrusts, took her to previously unattained heights of crashing delight.

Helen straightened her clothes and refastened her bra with her back to the window. She was afraid to meet his eyes as she pulled up her panties. It felt as if he was still inside her.

"You won't be sorry you came to me," he said. He was across the cluttered shop getting her receipt. He passed it to her along with her credit card. "-A bicycle like that will give you years of pleasure," he smiled.

She thanked him as his cum soaked into her already sopping panties.

"It's set up almost perfect for you now," he said. She followed him as he took the bicycle outside and carried it down the steps.

"-But don't forget, if you have any problems or you've got any questions, if anything needs a little tweak or special attention, feel free to call in. I'm always here. I don't mind telling you my after sales service is second to none."

He smiled warmly and his dark eyes sparkled as Helen finally took possession of her bicycle.