Jack Hammer pulled up on the handlebars and dug into the pedals, sending his mountain bike soaring over a big exposed tree root. A split second later, he jerked the bike to the side, dodging a big rock. The back wheel skidded on the loose gravel. He almost lost it, but recovered at the last instant and continued down the trail.
Jack broke out of the dense cedar forest and stopped his mountain bike at the edge of the cliff on the west side of Rattlesnake River.
He drank some water and checked the map on his phone. The temperature was in the mid-80s, still cool for late May in Central Texas, but way hot after San Francisco.
Those woods had been challenging. He had the Marine training and stayed in shape, but he wasn't a super dedicated mountain biker. And he hadn't even reached the hard part yet. Suicide Hill was still a kilometer ahead.
The rocky cliff top stretched on for another 50 meters and then he was back in cedar forest again. He labored steadily upward, dodging rocks and trees, and finally reached the top of Suicide Hill. It made the path he'd taken through the woods look like a kiddie trail.
"So you showed up." A man came out of the dense woods, wheeling a super-high-end mountain bike and carrying his helmet.
He was a little taller and heavier than Jack's six feet and 180 pounds, with close-cropped blond hair and almost invisible blond beard stubble. Coarse blond hair covered his muscular arms, legs, and chest. His long thick cock was clearly visible through his skin-tight mountain biking shorts.
"I wasn't sure when I got your text." The biker's intense ice blue eyes roamed over Jack, taking in his toned body and the bulge in his bike shorts. "A lot of guys chicken out."
Jack's cock grew even harder as he stared at the big tent in the biker's shorts. Plunging down an unfamiliar trail was reckless. Especially THAT trail. "Not me."
They rolled their bikes to the edge of the steep slope, exchanged a look, and then pushed off.
* * *
The biker was waiting with his arms folded in front of his chest and a big grin on his face when Jack reached the end of the trail. "So you finally made it."
"It's quite a trail." A lot of the time, Jack hadn't been sure he was on the trail, if it existed at all. The cocky mountain biker had left him in the dust from the get-go. Jack had pursued him relentlessly, but the biker had beaten him by about a minute. Sixty LONG seconds in a situation where fractions of a second counted. "I'll do better next time."
"Sure you will. But, that's NEXT time. THIS TIME..." The biker pulled his skin-tight bike shorts down and took his cock out. It was considerably longer and thicker than Jack's unusually large rod, rising like a mighty redwood from his heavy blond pubic thatch. "You can start by sucking this."
Wordlessly, Jack took his helmet off and pulled his shorts down, freeing his own hard-on, then sank down onto his kneepads and curled his fingers around the big man's towering pole.
