Nude Cyclist Ch 01

Jason woke from a fitful sleep.

He lay on his bed, mesmerized by the slowly rotating motion of the ceiling fan, it's gentle breeze just managing to take the edge off the stifling heat.

He got out of bed and walked to kitchen to get a drink.

He opened the fridge door and stood, naked, in front of the cool air.

After pouring himself a drink of water, he opened the sliding doors which led into the carport.

Jason loved warm mornings. There was something about the stillness of a summer morning than touched his inner being.

He stepped outside. It was cooler than inside but not by much.

The gate which fenced off the carport from the street was made up of vertical steel rods, about 20 centimeters apart. Anyone driving by would have had a good view of his naked body. But it was just gone 5 o'clock and the streets were deserted.

He raised his arms in surrender to the sensual feeling of being naked outside. He ran his hands over his chest and down his front, then around his buttocks.

It felt so good.

Jason lived three houses up from a corner.

He saw the lights of the car turn into his street.

He walked casually back into his carport area; slow enough to be "accidentally" seen if the driver happened to be looking in the right direction.

Jason liked being naked, and the risk of being seen by a passing motorist only heightened his excitement.

After the car had passed he walked back to the gate, willing another car to come around the corner.

He waited for five minutes before giving up.

He walked back to the sliding door and was about to go in when he glanced over at his bike leaning against a wall. He went over and touched the seat.

Bike riding was one of Jason's favorite things. This could explain why he had never gone for his driver's license and probably never would.

He stroked the seat.

Freedom.

It was time to ride.

He went back inside and, after having a bite to eat, put on a pair of shorts, socks and shoes, and shoved an old t-shirt in his backpack.

Jason had a number of favorite riding routes which usually took him to one beach or another.

He lived less than a kilometer from the town's major bike track which followed the coast.

The track was well used but probably not at 5 in the morning.

Jason was soon on his way. It wasn't long before he was on the coast track enjoying the experience of freedom which the bike always gave to him.

Jason always rode in shorts with high cut sides, and never wore underwear under his shorts - even on the coldest of days.

As he rode, he rolled up the sides of his shorts so that the front of his shorts formed a narrow band of material across his genitals.

His pubic hair extended either side of the material and the tightened skin of his balls could be seen pressing hard against the seat.

He reached down and ran his finger down the side of the thin strip of material feeling his cock as he did.

Someone coming the other way would have a lovely view. But no one was coming the other way.

The track was moving closer and closer to the ocean. The delightful smell of the open sea came to him and soon after he could hear the sparkling sound of the water meeting the beach.

It was perfect. The sea; the bike; the warm, windless air.

He topped the hill and continued on through a park section of the track.

The bike track ran for about 50 kilometers with a vast range of surroundings greeting the cyclist. For most of the track, houses could be seen on one or other side, but occasionally the track passed through parklands where hardy bushes grew.

Jason slowed to a stop.

The air, which had been helping to cooling him, was now still, and beads of sweat formed on his brow and chest.

He dismounted from the bike and retrieved his water bottle from its holder.

As he drank, a few drops spilled from the bottle onto his chest.

He rubbed the wetness into his skin, enjoying the momentary cooling effect.

He drank again and this time deliberately let some water spill onto his body.

As the water made it's way down his front, he pulled the elastic band of his shorts away from his skin, allowing the drops to reach his pubic hair.

A warm, glowing feeling came upon him.

It was the same feeling that he had when standing naked at his gates.

He slowly slipped his shorts down over his arse.

His shorts fell to the ground and he stepped out of them.

Jason bent low to pick up his shorts, staying this way for seconds as he enjoyed the feeling of his naked arse pointing into the air.

He walked over to his bike and returned the water bottle.

He then took his backpack off and placed his shorts inside. All or nothing he thought.

His heart was beating wildly.

He straddled the bike, one leg either side of the cross bar.

He listened: only the sound of the sea could be heard.

He cautiously looked around: no one was in sight and the nearest house was 80 meters away.

He placed one foot on a pedal and carefully raised his naked arse onto the seat.

It felt so nice that he thought he might burst with the sensual joy of it.

He moved off, gingerly at first, constantly looking behind himself.

With time he began to relax and he became engulfed in the moment.

With every forward movement he felt his balls push against the point of the seat, pushing his growing cock into an upright position.

Push. Push.

He started touching himself as he rode.

Firstly, he ran his hand over the tops of legs, the muscles moving with each strain.

His hands then moved to his inner thighs, his burrowing fingers cupping his balls. He groaned out loud.

Now Jason's hands were firmly wrapped around his fully erect cock.

With each push of the pedals his hand moved up and down his shaft.

He stopped pumping for a moment and ran a finger over the juices which had begun forming on the head of his dick.

Suddenly he slammed on the brakes.

Something was wrong. Something had disturbed him.

He rode off the track, and into a clump of bushes.

The bushes were sparse and offered little covering, but they were better than nothing.

Moments later he heard the noise of a footfall on the track.

Jason started opening his backpack, then stopped. He would never get his shorts on in time. The footfalls grew louder, then came the noise of heavy, strained breathing.

Jason's heart pounded in his chest, yet excitement filled every part of his body.

He held his backpack in front of his naked body and held his breath.

The male runner appeared then went by without a glance.

Jason dropped his backpack and slumped to the sandy soil.

His heart beat sounded loud in his ears but he was gradually calming down.

He sat this way for a while, smiling and laughing to himself.

As he stood he looked over to the East and saw the first rays of morning sun making their way over the hills.

After dusting himself off he grabbed his shorts from his backpack and slipped them back on.

As he continued on his ride, Jason thought to himself that he would have to do this again.