Chloe Rides Again Pt 02

This series is a sequel to the earlier work "Riding With Dirty Girls." You can probably get something out of the sex scenes in isolation, but to fully enjoy the story you really need to read Dirty Girls first.

This is a work of fiction. A figment of the author's imagination. It is not meant to be big on realism. It's a fantasy. The culture around world-class women's cycling probably isn't a hotbed of lesbian lust, but wouldn't it be fun if it were?

All characters are fictitious. At the same time, they are all over 18.

***

Part 02: On the Omloop

'It doesn't always have to be threesomes, babe. I don't mind if you have a little adventure of your own occasionally, as long as you don't do it behind my back, in secret.'

Licia had called me early in the week before the opening weekend of the classics season. She wanted to talk about the upcoming racing, of course, but she was also keen to define the rules of our new relationship, and having her cake AND eating it was clearly high on her agenda, because the freedom she was offering to me would obviously apply to her as well.

I gave a woolly and uncommitted 'Mm,' but really, I wanted to think about it. I also liked the idea of the freedom she was suggesting, but a little part of me wanted a degree of exclusivity. I wanted to show at least SOME commitment to her, and for her to show some to me.

'Are you saying that's what you want? To have that freedom?'

'No, not necessarily, but I don't want to rule it out, either.'

'Mm.'

'Are you OK babe, you've gone quiet?' She probed.

'Yeh, yeh, it's just a new situation. I'm not really sure what I want it to look like, really. Let me think on it a while.'

'OK.'

I was surprised by how much there was to consider when establishing a new relationship. I'd never been in this situation before.

'Anyway...' she changed the subject, 'are you ready for Saturday?'

'NO! It's a whole new game, Liss. I'm suddenly a raw novice again. It's a bit scary.'

'Well, the classics are a bit different to 'cross, that's for sure, but you have everything you need to be brilliant at them, apart from tactical experience. You'll soon learn though. In fact, you'll have learned a lot just by watching them.'

'Yeh, I suppose so...'

It really was a different game. In 'cross, all the races are 5 or 6 laps, and each lap is around 7 or 8 minutes for the leaders, so the winning time will usually be around 45 -- 50 minutes. It's very uniform, despite the variations in course design. Your crew can set up in the pit area and everything is fairly controllable.

In the classics, the distances are much longer. The women's races are all between 135 and 170 km (85-105 miles) long, and the winning time will be between 3:30 and 4 hours. This is often not much more than half the men's distance though -- a real bone of contention with me.

The courses sometimes have a series of laps at the end, but generally, they ramble all over the place, seeking out evil cobbled climbs etc. Support is extremely thin on the ground, and the chances of getting a quick bike or wheel change are very slim.

To add to their appeal, they are often beset by bad weather. Some races have been known to have half the field retire just because of cold and wet. Mard arses. They obviously aren't tough northern lasses like Licia and me.

Just to make it all even more unfamiliar, we ride for different teams too. Because these races are part of the Elite Women's Road World Tour, I had to join a World Tour Team -- completely separate from my cyclocross team. I was hoping to join Licia's team, Insta-Schwalbe, but their roster was full as they'd just signed two new riders, and they couldn't really afford me anyway.

Molly was right about my new status as cyclocross World Champion and World Cup winner being valuable. I had three teams offering eye-popping salaries, and I ended up signing for Canyon-Zipp on a 1-year contract worth €350,000 plus bonuses and sponsorship. Yep, it's definitely more lucrative than cyclocross.

Apart from the salary, I chose Canyon-Zipp because they have close ties to my 'cross team, and some of the same riders -- like Helen Clausters, for instance. Of the 19 riders on the roster, I only really knew 5 of them though. The other 14 were just names I'd vaguely heard of. There was a whole voyage of discovery awaiting me.

Support arrangements were also different. Canyon-Zipp expected me to fall in line with their protocols, where team support cars accompany the races. Thus, sadly, my private crew "Team Lyon" no longer had a role to play. Molly was still my coach, of course, but Fanny and Marianne would now be simply roadside fans. However, all three of them were determined to provide any additional support they could. 'Just try keeping us away,' they said.

I'd have a new team manager, Robbie, a sports director, Gabi, and two assistant sports directors, Kristoff, and Yara, as well as my 18 new team mates. It was all very new and unsettling.

One of the things I love about cyclocross is its simplicity, and its lack of glitz and pizazz. It's a professional sport, but it has managed to avoid losing contact with its amateur no-nonsense roots. As I've said before, it sometimes feels like a sport from the past, and I think it's all the better for that.

The Road World Tour is not like that, and it has a different atmosphere. More flashy, more kitch. Some might say more professional, but I wouldn't.

For instance, prior to Saturday's race, I was required to attend a team presentation in the Ghent velodrome, where each team would parade on stage and be introduced to the adoring crowd. Each member would be announced, and some would be interviewed. All this just an hour or two before the start! It was a distraction I could do without.

On the Thursday, I phoned Licia to grumble about it. 'Yeah, it's bullshit really, but that's the crap that comes with being a World Tour rider. It has its compensations though,' she said, 'like the odd extra 100k in the bank account.' She had a point.

'So how have you been doing this week? Have you been missing me?' I probed.

'Of course I have. I've been thinking... we should spend more time together, and less time apart.'

'Yeah, me too. We should live sometimes in Dublin, and sometimes in Scotland. We could do that.'

'What, like a couple of weeks at a time? Yeah, that would be great.'

'We'll talk about it this weekend. When do you fly?

'Tomorrow at 10am. Get to Brussels at about midday and get collected by the team bus to go to the hotel in Ghent.'

'Almost the same as me,' I said. 'I think Friday night will be all introductions and getting to know people.'

'Yeh, we have a new girl in our team who is gay and unattached.'

'Really?' I said. 'Tell me more.'

'She's Danish, 20 years old. She's a neo-pro,' (meaning this was her first professional contract). 'Her name is Stella Forsberg. Look her up on Pro Cycling Stats. She looks quite...presentable,' which I knew was Licia-speak for hot.

'Mm sounds interesting. I haven't even looked up who's on our team yet.'

'I have. The six for Saturday are you, Helen, Marlen Raichle (German) 26 years old, Selina Busto (Spanish) 24, Tera Griffin (Australia) 30, and Mia Guerini (Italy) 22. I know Tera, and obviously Helen, but not the others.

'Oh yeh, I knew Tera would be there.'

'Others on the start list you'll know: Lucy, Olga, Maisie, Sabina, Anna, and Kat... It's a big field -- 144 riders -- 24 teams. I've done a couple of seasons of these but there are plenty of names I don't recognise.'

'Hmm, maybe some free girl recruitment opportunities, there.'

'Yea... you can be sure I'll introduce myself to Stella at the first opportunity.'

'Shameless vamp.'

'I thought that was one of the things you loved about me.'

'It is, but I still like to call you one.'

'Bitch.'

'Hussy.'

This playful, sassy name-calling was becoming a favourite little game of ours. We found it oddly titillating. It had also started creeping into our sex. I found it quite a turn-on when she called me a 'dirty little tart,' while I was eating her pussy.

'Yeah, that's me,' she growled, 'The Pussy Hussy.'

'I cackled at her silly word play, but she went on. She clearly wanted to go down the sexual alley, as befitted her newly-invented character. 'You wanna see somethin' hot? I have a surprise for you. Are you ready for it?'

'Oo, I hope so.'

Pingg. A picture arrived, and it was more than a surprise. It was an image of Licia, basically folded in half, with her legs crossed behind her head, fingers opening up her pussy, and looking straight at the camera with her tongue on her clit!

'Oh my GOD! How is that even possible? How did you do it?'

'It's amazing what some determined flexibility exercises can achieve. That pic was taken on Tuesday. I can go further still now.'

'Further than that?!!'

'Yeah, I can just about get the tip of my tongue between my inner lips. It's a new sensation, I can tell you. It's a bit limited in terms of licking, but there's something horny about it, and I can slip a vibe in and lick my clit at the same time. Wanna watch?'

My fingers were already idly playing with my pussy through my pants as I gazed at the stunning picture... 'Yeh!'

Get your laptop. I'll set up my webcam.'

I went and got it, put it on my desk and turned it on. Soon I had the image from Licia's cam on the screen. She had it set up with a view of her bed. There was a bit of messing as she set up the zoom, then she crawled onto the bed, naked, and positioned herself in the centre of the frame.

She threw her legs back and put her arms on the backs of her thighs, then crossed her legs behind her head and used them to pull her head forward. 'I'll need to warm up a bit first,' she said.

I watched, open mouthed as she made two or three "pulls," getting nearer each time. My fingers were deep in my honeypot now, and writhing against my inner walls as this incredibly kinky scene unfolded before my eyes.

Eventually, she made it, and she wiggled her clit from side to side with her tongue. I let out an involuntary 'Fuck,' and she grinned and then bent her head down and kissed her hairy mons.

She looked at the camera with a look of glee and said, 'Cool, eh?'

I said, 'No, hot,' and she chuckled. Her tongue was quickly back on her clit, and she reached out of frame to grab the vibe, which she briefly sucked then slipped easily into her pussy. I could faintly hear it buzzing as she began tonguing herself, flicking her little button from side to side, then giving it a series of little dabs, then pressing and squirming her tongue against it. All the time looking straight at the camera. Straight into my eyes.

I wanked myself to a shattering orgasm in about 30 seconds flat, and she followed shortly afterwards, her vaginal spasm popping the buzzing vibe out, like a cork from a bottle, leaving a dribble of creamy juice behind, which trickled down over her bum hole.

She groaned and flopped back into a flat position, and I just said, 'Wow, that was so hot...'

'Just wait until the next time we do it' she said. 'Girl we're going to have some fun.'

***

The Omloop.

Omloop het Nieuwsblad is the traditional first race of the European road season. It was originally called Omloop het Vlaanderen (Circuit of Flanders) and was conceived as a rival for the Ronde van Vlaanderen (Tour of Flanders) but there was a wrangle over the similar names and eventually, it adopted the name of the newspaper that sponsors it, which I think is a shame. Races should be named after their location or physical features in my opinion, not after sponsors. But that's just me, I'm opinionated about such things.

Anyway, crap name apart, it is regarded as one of cycling's big classics, and always attracts a top-class field. This year was no exception, with three former winners on the start list; My Australian team mate Tera Griffin, the Italian, Elisa Abruzzi, and my cyclocross rival Lucy van Barle, who won the race in 2017, when I was only 16 years old. Gulp.

Despite my new status as CX World Champion, and despite having beaten Lucy a number of times during the cyclocross season, I felt outclassed in this company.

The race starts in Ghent and finishes in Ninove. Those two places are only about 30km apart, but the race covers 138km getting from one to the other as it takes a contorted route, seeking out 8 climbs, some of them cobbled, and 6 flat sections of cobbles. It's still mainly a road race, but those climbs and cobbles do make a difference, and they are sometimes decisive.

I flew to Brussels on the Friday, and sought out the team bus, which loitered at the airport for almost 2 hours, waiting for riders who were arriving on later flights. The bus was plush and comfortable though, and I took the opportunity to get to know my new team mates, Marlen and Selina.

Selina seemed very shy and retiring, and I don't think she was confident in her English, so my conversation with her was short and sweet, and she settled herself in one of the big comfy seats and disappeared into her phone.

Marlen though, was very interesting. She was 26 (ProCyclingStats.com is very useful for this sort of info) a bit taller than average, with grey-blue eyes and an engaging smile, and she had gorgeous long dark hair with a crinkly wave in it. Her German accent reminded me of Helen (even though Helen is actually Austrian).

'Hello, Chloe,' she offered her hand, but I pulled her to me for a proper greeting. A hug and a kiss on both cheeks beats a formal handshake any day in my book. She beamed, 'Oo, nice. I've been looking forward to meeting you. I've watched all your cyclocross this winter. Very, very impressive.'

'Thank you,' I grinned. I could tell I was going to like this woman.

Like a lot of the riders on the start list, I was sort of familiar with her name, but really didn't know much about her career or her palmarés, and there she was, following my whole winter of racing. I was at a big disadvantage.

I knew all about our team leader, the Australian, Tera Griffin. As mentioned, she was a former winner of this race, and a pretty big name, but some of the other girls were more of a mystery to me. I definitely needed to start doing my homework.

Speaking of Tera, she was the next to arrive on the bus, and her greeting was not like Marlen's. I didn't feel bold enough to go for the hug with her, so a rather cool handshake had to suffice. Her only comment was 'Ah, Chloe. You're the cyclocross girl...' I may have been reading too much into it, but it seemed to be said in a faintly derisory way. I wasn't sure I was going to take to her.

Tera was 30 years old, with an impressive palmarés - ex Australian Champion, Olympic medalist etc, and it was obvious that she regarded herself as the queen bee of this team, and I noticed that Marlen and Selina treated her with a degree of deference, not something she'd get from me until she'd earned it.

Next to appear up the bus steps was a familiar head of slightly frizzy strawberry-blonde curls. Helen! Oh God, I was so pleased to see her. I clasped her in a warm hug, like I hadn't seen her for months (it was actually only a week) and I got the same enthusiasm from her. Lovely Helen.

I think the warmth of our greeting raised a few eyebrows, but I was pleased to see Marlen greet her similarly, and they gabbled away to each other in German. I assumed they were long-standing friends, but didn't know just how much history they had.

We were just waiting for the Italian Mia Guerini now, but her flight had been delayed for an hour, so I ensconced myself in one of the big seats and looked her up on the 'net.

She was the same age as me, 3cm shorter and 5kg lighter. That's a climber's build, I thought, and sure enough, she had a couple of "Queen of the Mountains" titles in stage races to her name.

I assumed that her role in this race would be to work for Tera on the climbs. We'd all be working as "domestiques" for Tera, but I hadn't yet been assigned any particular role as yet. We'd get briefed once we got to the hotel.

Anyway, she eventually arrived and greeted us all in a very Italian way -- taking us by the shoulders and kissing both our cheeks -- and I was pleased to note that Tera got exactly the same greeting as everyone else.

About 3pm, we rolled out of the airport and headed for our hotel in Ghent. I felt strangely nervous. It was the unfamiliarity of everything and, I suppose, fear of the unknown.

En route, I did some texting with Molly. She knew the Omloop like her own back yard, and she knew exactly where she could station herself to support me, and how she could leapfrog the race and get ahead. She listed four places where she'd be and I marked them on my course map and tried to memorise them and the distances between them.

She also told me that Fanny and Marianne were both joining her. Team Lyon rides again!

At the hotel we went straight into a briefing, where we were told our roles, and under what circumstances we would be allowed to race for ourselves, and when we would be expected to ride for Tera. I wasn't surprised by any of this -- after all, Tera was one of the favourites to win, and here on the Classics, my cyclocross palmarés didn't carry much weight. I had to prove myself all over again.

Dinner was a mass of unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar conversation. Lots of talk about team tactics and the different parts of the course -- all of which were unfamiliar to me, apart from by reputation. I'd probably ridden some of the climbs while training with Molly, without even knowing it, and I didn't remember any of them being fearsome. I did have confidence in my ability, but I kept quiet.

I was roomies with Helen (thank goodness) and after a huge dinner, we went up to our room for a bit of relaxation. As usual, we were completely at ease with each other, and we lay on our beds with phones in hand, not talking much, just comfortable.

I texted Licia, asking how her new team members were, really meaning Stella, the new gay girl.

'Yeah, they all seem great. Stella is a trip, I can't wait for you to meet her.' I couldn't wait either.

'Our lot seem OK. Tera's a bit aloof though.'

'Yeah, I thought that when I first met her. She's just a bit serious.'

'I like Marlen already. She seems warm and... sexy.'

'Is she gay? Should I be getting jealous?'

'Nooo, don't be daft'

I turned to Helen, 'You seemed friendly with Marlen on the bus. Are you old friends?'

She looked at me penetratingly. 'Funny you should ask that... 'This is not for general broadcast, Chloe.' I shook my head and she paused, thinking, then said, 'We had a "thing," years ago, when she was still a junior. Almost got us in trouble. We broke it off, but we have stayed friends. She still has a soft spot for me, I think.'

'So she's gay?'

'Yes, absolutely. 'I'm not up to date with her current love life though.'

'Interesting. There's a new gay girl on Licia's team, Stella Forsberg. Do you know her?'

'No, only her name, really. She's a sprinter, I think. Comes from a track background. She's only young.'

'Yes, 20.'

How do you know she is gay?'

'Licia told me -- don't know how she knows.'

'Hm.'

I texted Licia again; 'Helen just told me that Marlen is gay.'

'Now I am jealous.'

'You shouldn't be jealous. You should be excited. First race of the new season and two lesbians we didn't know about. This could be like "The Free Girls Ride Again."

'And again, and again... and again.'

I sent a laughing emoji.

Helen suddenly jumped up, with a grin. 'I'm going out to meet Lucy. See you later,' and with that, she threw on a fleece and left.

I decided to stop texting Licia and call her instead. I was aware that her roomie might be there, so I said, 'Can you talk?'

'Yeah, Becca's gone out.'