Pedaling Through the Leaves

My cycling buddy Nick and I decided to take a break from work and home life, and we signed up for a week-long group cycling tour in New England. Nick's wife didn't seem unhappy to have him leave for a week, and my girlfriend was even more indifferent, so in mid-October we crated our road bikes and flew East.

This wasn't our first tour, and this one was organized about the same as the others. We rendezvoused with the others at a motel in southern New Hampshire, just outside Manchester. There were fourteen of us -- 10 men and four women, ranging in age from the late twenties to the late forties, with a couple of the guys appearing to be close to sixty. Nick and I and the tour guide were in our early thirties, which was about the median age.

The tour plan was to cycle the back roads up to Burlington, Vermont, then return on a different route.

....

Nick & Megan, Janet and me

....

The room mellowed out. When Janet returned from her trip to the bathroom, she had clicked on the desk lamp and clicked off the harsher lamp on the nightstand between the beds. The television volume was low enough to be almost background noise, showing some late night talk show. We'd gone through almost two six-packs of beer.

Janet and I were sitting mostly upright, our backs propped up with pillows against the headboard. Nick and Megan looked to be horizontal. I gave a quick look to my right and saw them lying face to face, Nick with his back to me. Janet took a longer look at them, then shot a quick glance at me, then returned her gaze to the television.

It was then that her hand found mine under the bedspread that was pulled up waist-high. A tentative touch became deliberate, and soon we were stroking each other's hand and playing footsie, all the while staring forward at the television. The back of her hand brushed against my leg, and mine against hers.

I took the hint. My hand slowly traversed to the top of Janet's thigh. Not only was there no resistance, Janet's fingertips caressed the back of my hand, and her thigh moved closer to me.

Why the hell not, I thought.

My caresses moved to between her thighs, then upward as Janet's thighs opened yet wider apart. When my fingertips were finally brushing lightly against the crotch of her sweatpants, I gave a sideways glance at Janet -- and she glanced at me and smiled -- then we both resumed our pretend attention to the talk show interview.

Why the hell not, redux.

Janet's fingertips were still stroking the back of my hand as I moved yet further upward to her waistband, then -- after a momentary hesitation -- slipped downward again, though this time inside her pants. And, yes, inside her panties. Janet inhaled a quick breath, then resumed her normal slow breaths, giving no outward sign that my hand was descending across her pubic hair and homing in on her pussy.

Janet's sweatpants didn't give my fingers much freedom to maneuver. Thankfully, with a minimum of apparent movement above the bedspread, Janet inched her sweatpants down past her ass, then down to her knees, then slowly, casually pulled one leg up and out. Now her thighs were sprawled apart, and I had complete access to her arousal. Her vulva was a playground of ridges and valleys. Her clit was a sizeable bump, her inner labia were fun-flaps, and her juices were flowing.

None of this appeared to affect Nick and Megan, who were by now apparently making out and completely occupied with each other.

My wandering fingers were slow and deliberate. Janet's vulva blossomed open in the most delightful way, with fattened, slick labia smiling wide, and her prominent clitoris jutting high and hard. With another sideways glance I saw Janet's eyes closed and a placid expression on her face.

I did my best to honor the liberties that Janet was allowing me. My fingers celebrated every nook and cranny, every silky ridge and smooth valley. Her lubrication encouraged my explorations. I stroked, I swirled, I squeezed and dipped and danced. Janet's breathing quickened, but she seemed to keep under control. Or at least she kept her arousal more hidden than what was going on in the next bed. Megan was squeaking little pleasure noises.

Janet's hand pressed against the back of my hand, freezing me in place. She leaned to whisper in my ear, "Let's move to the floor." I withdrew my hand. Janet slipped off the bed, clutching two pillows, and I joined her with two more. She was on her back with a pillow under her head.

We kissed for the first time. Janet's lips were soft, and her tongue greeted mine. We cuddled. My left arm gently wrapped around her and my hand was on her shoulderblade, and her right hand held the back of my head. The mood seemed right, so I shifted my hand to her right breast. Janet moaned in my mouth. Her nipple was hard beneath her tshirt and bra. My hand moved lower, down the side of her torso to her hip, teasing fingertips just inside the waistband of her sweatpants. She quietly moaned again.

It was then I heard Megan's moan from across the room. She wasn't nearly as quiet as Janet.

I was distracted only a brief moment. My hand slipped deeper inside her pants to the edge of her panties, then across to her lower tummy and once more down across her silky pubic hair to cup her vulva. Janet squirmed, breaking her mouth from mine, and panted in my ear. Her labia were swollen and pouting, her juices flowing. Her clit just seemed to be calling for my touch.

I nuzzled her neck, then whispered in her ear, "I want to taste you. Please."

Janet hesitated a few seconds while my lips continued exploring her neck, then replied "Okay." I could hear her breathing.

I disentangled my arm and began my journey south. I maneuvered my body between her legs and gave Janet's waistband an encouraging tug, and she answered with an affirmative lift of her hips. Her sweatpants and panties came off the remaining leg and were soon on the floor next to us. I moved a spare pillow to beneath her hips.

The light was dim, but it was enough to see her dark pubic hair and prominent labia. My tongue grazed lightly from bottom to top, and Janet grunted and her hands found the back of my head. Now it was time to learn how she liked to be licked.

Janet's body guided my education. She spread her legs wide and continued to hold my head with both hands, and she communicated to me through her fingertips pressing against my skull, her hips that wiggled and rocked, and her occasional guttural groans and barely audible high-pitched whimpers and squeaks. It became clear to me that Janet preferred more pressure and speed of my tongue against her clit, rather than less, and with fingers inside her vagina instead of my tongue. She seemed to never want my tongue to leave her clit.

Janet's breaths became quicker and deeper, and her hips soon rocked steadily -- and increasingly firmly - against my mouth. Suddenly she began to pant, her clit grew fractionally larger and popped out even more from between her fattened labia. Her hips raised up against my busy mouth, and my tongue and my two curled fingers intensified their efforts. Janet's orgasm was almost silent, signaled only by two quick, deep breaths, then she stopped breathing and her body arched and stiffened, and a series of subtle, rhythmic clenches nibbled around my intruding fingers.

When she started breathing again, her breaths were shallow and panting. I withdrew my fingers, and my tongue retreated from her clit, though continued to gently alternately lick the creases between her outer labia and inner labia. Her musky juices coated my face from chin to nose. I inhaled her scent. My cock was hard as a proverbial steel pole.

Janet tugged me upward. I hovered my body above hers, supporting myself on my knees and outstretched arms, giving her room to catch her breath. I leaned forward to give her a kiss. "How was that?" I whispered.

She briefly closed her eyes, then reopened them. "Oh my god," she murmured. "It's been awhile since... that."

I lowered myself to rest on my elbows and kissed her again. I felt Janet's hand between us, gripping my erection in my pants. She stared at my face, then uttered the magic words. "Do you want to be inside me?"

"I'd love that."

"Are you... do you... I mean..." Janet searched for words.

"I don't have a condom. But I'm healthy. But... birth control..."

"I had my tubes tied after the girls were born."

"So..."

"So..." Janet's eyes were glued to mine. "Be gentle. It's been awhile."

"Of course." As I sat up on my knees to lower my shorts, I glanced over to the other bed. Nick was on his back. Megan was leaning over his hips, and her head was bobbing up and down on his erection. At least they weren't paying any attention to Janet and me. I squirmed out of my shorts and underwear and resettled between Janet's parted, waiting thighs.

It was one of those delicious, magical moments with a new lover. My cock stroked against Janet's wet folds and creases, coating my flesh with her juices, caressing her clitoris and her inflamed labia. Janet's hips were elevated by the pillow now under her ass, angling her vulva up and available. My legs pressed against the lower side of Janet's thighs, holding them high. She held my face between her hands, kissing me, her active tongue invading my mouth in a way that made me envision how my cock would invade her vagina.

And finally, with a slow, deliberate movement, my cockhead slid downward in her cleft and poised at her opening. "Ready?" I breathed.

"Yes."

My cockhead slipped just barely inside. Janet's breaths quickened. Then, ever so slowly, I dipped deeper and deeper, feeling the ever increasing embrace of her warm, slick silk. Janet exhaled puffs of air with pursed lips. When I was in all the way, when my pubic bone pressed against her raw, opened vulva, I urged my hips forward with the strength of my legs and invaded yet another half-inch.

"Okay?" I asked.

"You're really deep."

"But okay?"

She smiled in the dim light. "Wonderful." Her hips rose up to meet me, and her little muscles squeezed around my shaft. "I feel really stretched," she whispered, "So full."

As much as I wanted to stay buried inside her, I also wanted to stroke her, caress her with my stiff cock, to feel her wetness and her smooth walls and her labia caressing my shaft. In and out, in and out, I teased her and teased myself with the erotic sensations. It was then I heard Nick groan, then groan again, louder.

Janet's half-closed eyes opened. "Are they...?"

"Yes." I continued my languid strokes. I wasn't sure how long I could keep them slow and stay in control. "Can you come again?" I whispered.

Janet wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so."

I couldn't seem to stop my hips from increasing the pace. "Because... I'm getting close."

Janet pulled my face down to hers and gave me a long kiss, then whispered into my ear, "Don't worry. I want to feel you come."

"You will," I replied. My strokes became more deliberate. Not quick, just steady, and with a firmer, stronger push on each instroke to reach inside her as far as I could manage. I wanted to fuck her, to take her, to take my pleasure in her body and in her gift of sharing it with me. I felt Janet's lubrication leaking down my balls, coating the inside of her thighs. My cock began its involuntary twitches. I was about to explode.

Janet must have felt it, too. Now her mouth was open and she nodded her head on each instroke. Her hips rocked upward to match my downward thrusts. Her hands were clamped on my ass, pulling on me on every inward thrust. "You're so hard," she whispered. "Let it go. Let me feel it."

And I did. I gave her -- I gave me -- those final few strokes, and the aura built inside me, that exquisite feeling of her inner muscles repeatedly encircling the root of my shaft, telling my primal instincts that I was all the way up inside her, that my cockhead was reaching her cervix, her core, her feminine mystery and magic. My last thrust was masculine and muscled, burying my superhardened erection deep and holding her body close.

In that initial explosion of full-body pleasure my body stiffens and time stands still. Then a brief second later my spurts begin. My body is still almost paralyzed, my brain in a blur of sensory overload. I only vaguely noticed Janet's legs wrapped around the back of my legs, holding me tight, of her fingernails digging into my buttocks, of her whispers of "Oh! Oh! Oh!" that greeted each of my liquid pulses. I was acutely aware of every spurt that splashed my seed into the deepest recesses of her sweet embrace, coating her cervix, filling her vagina and adding to its slickness. I was all manly strength and domination, and this woman beneath me -- soft, feminine, mouth open and eyes glued to mine, legs open wide and inviting, vagina warm and slippery -- was offering her most intimate self to me.

When it is finished, Janet's fingertips skated in the sheen of sweat that now coated my back. We kissed, we nuzzled. My erection softened and ever so reluctantly slipped out, and our bodies separated. I heard Nick and Megan talking in low voices. Glancing down between Janet's legs, I saw the aftereffects -- her pubic hair was now matted, her labia yawning and glistening with our juices, and a telltale rivulet of white was oozing down to between her buttocks. Janet found her underwear and sweatpants and pulled them on, and I did the same with mine.

When we eventually emerged into sight above the bed, Nick and Megan mercifully pretended to ignore us. They were both fully dressed. Janet passed their bed on her way to the bathroom. Mutual glances were quick.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick and I had said our goodbyes, and we returned to our room down the hall. "Well, that was interesting," he observed.

"That's for sure," I replied.

When we got to the door to our room, Nick turned to me and said, "I'm liking these bike trips."