** This is my 100th story on Literotica. it's a major milestone, but I don't intend to stop here. Let's go for 200.**
This is the 3rd part of a story which continues Chloe's timeline from "Riding With Dirty Girls," and "Chloe Rides Again." You can probably get something out of the sex scenes in isolation, but for background, you probably need to have read the other series' 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, and any that are involved in sexual activities are over 18.
***
Chloe's Return Pt. 03
Groan. That bloody alarm! I fumbled to silence it, then snuggled close to Helen again. Oh, I really didn't want to leave this elysian bed. It crossed my mind that, perhaps I could feign an illness and quit the race...
I ran my hand over Helen's waist, sweeping up to her hip, and encountered the dressing pad covering her big bruise and scrape. One of a number of bruises and scrapes she'd been carrying since Stage 1. She must have still been quite sore, but Helen was brave and resolute. She wasn't quitting. Neither was I.
I groaned again, but now my feet were on the floor.
Breakfast at 7:30 is never a pleasant thing but, as usual, the goodies on the table brought me a little succour, and by the time we were heading out to the airport I felt almost normal.
Today, we were flying to Zaragoza and we were being ferried to the airport in taxis, as our team bus and cars had left hours ago -- in the middle of the night -- with most of our luggage, bikes, kit etc. to drive the 700 + km. A 7-hour trip.
The rest of us - all 120 riders still left in the race - would fly there in less than 2 hours, on a specially chartered plane, and would meet our team buses for the final 40km to the start of Stage 5.
Honestly, the logistics of a race like this are MAD, especially when you think that the other 20 teams in the race would all have similar arrangements. Not to mention the convoy of trucks carrying race equipment etc. MAD.
Anyway, we went through all the airport malarkey, and were soon in the air, and heading north. By 11.30 we'd be in Zaragoza, and a 40 minute bus ride would then take us to the stage start.
I was hoping to sit with Helen on the plane, but she had, of course, arranged it so that she sat with Lucy. They were the couple, after all, even if a rather loose and open couple.
I noticed Trude and Marlen were sat together. Hm, OK. Pam was sat with Stella, and Gigi with Aimée. There was a lot of potential for lesbian pairing going on, but not for me. I ended up with Selina, which was also OK. She's bright and stimulating company. An easy travelling companion.
I wondered what Licia was doing. Would she have brought Lisa into "our" bedroom again? I thought about that, a little broodily, but then decided I was OK with it. This was the kind of relationship we had, by choice, and I knew I was always her number one, as she was always mine. I snapped out of my reverie.
There was a nice buzz on the plane, with 120 girls all nattering away. It was a great feeling of conviviality. I chatted to Selina and thought to myself, Yeah, it's OK this pro cycling lark.
***
Stage 5: Gallur-Logroño. 136km
The fifth stage was just a bit of a filler really. It was a straight run along the bottom of the Ebro valley, almost completely flat and not especially long. It would probably take less than 4 hours, which was just as well with a 2pm start time.
It would take us into the heart of the famous La Rioja wine region, which was a bit of a bummer for me. A nice Rioja tinto is a favourite tipple of mine, but none would pass my lips on this occasion, despite it being promoted everywhere in the vicinity. I would have to keep the clampers on.
With such a flat and relatively short stage, the sprinters would be licking their lips at the prospect of a bunch sprint finish but, as mentioned before, we didn't really have a sprinter in our team, so our main focus would be looking after our GC ambitions; controlling any breakaway, and just staying up near the front of the peloton and out of trouble.
We had two riders on the virtual GC podium, and Zara too was not completely out of contention -- she was still in the top 10 overall - so we would take no interest in the sprint, and would simply try to make sure we didn't lose any time through silly crashes or anything.
I say we would take no interest, but I was secretly rooting for Mae. It would be great if she could take her first victory before she turned 20, and I could imagine Molly glued to the TV at home, willing her on at the stage finish.
Mae was in a slightly unfortunate position really, being in the same team as Marieke Vox (Protime Femmes). Vox was still considered the best sprinter in the world, so all the team's effort, leadout etc. would be focussed on her.
I just hoped they'd let Mae stay in the draft, and not do too much work. If she could arrive at the finish fresh, I could see her winning the sprint. Marieke had already shown signs of weakness recently. Surely it was time for a changing of the guard?
As we started to gather for the start, I sought Mae out for a good luck hand clasp, and then found her team mates Gigi and Aimée and murmured to them. 'Look after Mae.' It was not my business to tell another team's riders how to ride, but I just thought I'd put the idea into their heads, or reinforce it if it was there already.
We rolled out on another hot, blue-sky afternoon for a 4km neutralised section, and when the flag dropped at km 0 the attacks started immediately.
There seemed to be a lot of riders who didn't want a bunch sprint, and who fancied their chances of making a breakaway stick and, on a course like this, their chances were way better than on the Sierra Nevada, for example.
A break of 14 riders eventually got clear, and we were informed that the group included Leonie and Inga -- Molly's other two neo-pros -- as well as the Austrian, Franka Stellner of Vista Maxx, who was quite a dangerous rider on GC, being less than 6 minutes behind Lucy overall. This was a break that Amstel-Rabo would need to control if they wanted to defend the red jersey.
So, Molly had three hopes for victory on this stage; Leonie and Inga in the break, and Mae if it came down to a bunch sprint. For once, I wouldn't be the focus of her attention and I liked that.
The peloton ticked along at a comfortable pace, and I had a nice time, chatting to whoever happened to be alongside me. There didn't seem to be much urgency, and we'd covered half the distance before we became aware that the break's lead was 5 minutes and growing. If Amstel let them have much more, Franka was going to be in virtual red.
No other team was going to chase because most of them had riders in the break, including us; Trude was up there.
Eventually Olga got on the front (you could almost hear her sigh as she did so) and she was joined by Ariana Tolsen, Toya Rennser, and Abby Stockton - Amstel's three domestiques. The pace cranked up a few notches, and the peloton went from a kerb-to-kerb crowd to a long, graceful teardrop.
Lucy, Suzy and Pam tailed their team mates, with others in close attendance, including our team, and it was great to see Helen up here with us, doing her bit. She was obviously feeling better.
The break's gap reached a maximum of 5.20, then started coming down, and the peloton gained momentum as more riders came to the front to do some work. One of those riders was me.
As a GC contender, and one of the leaders of our team, I was entitled to stay in the bunch, drafting and conserving energy, but I had decided I wanted Mae to win, and for that to happen, the break had to be caught, so I spent a little time working to keep the pace high.
I could imagine Molly seeing this on the live coverage, and muttering at the telly, 'What the hell is she doing?' etc. Not only would she see it as knuckleheaded thing to do, but I was also helping to chase down Inga and Leonie. I could almost see her look of consternation.
From my point of view, I didn't see it as a problem. I felt super-strong, so I didn't think The extra effort would cost me much. It was good TV exposure for me, and it was much more fun than sitting in the wheels all day.
Anyway, the gap started tumbling, and by 10km to go, we had them almost in sight. It was time for me to fade back into the bunch.
I dropped back gradually, and managed to say 'Go Mae' as she moved up and overtook me. I stayed behind her, at the tail end of the Protime Femmes train, and just tried to send her positive vibes by the power of telepathy. Not really, but I was sure she knew I was in her corner.
By the 5k to go banner, the game was up for the breakaway and the peloton started its wind up for the finish. I relinquished Mae's wheel and just concentrated on staying out of trouble as all the sprinters' teams started fighting to get near the front. Go Mae.
We swept into Logroño like a host of avenging angels in full cry, building up to the crazy speed a bunch like this can achieve; over 60 kph.
