Riding with Dirty Girls

This story 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.

***

Riding With Dirty Girls.

9. Porto

I opened my eyes to pale dawn light, filtering through thin curtains, and I recognised the ceiling of my bedroom. There was a pleasant feeling of familiarity as I gradually awakened and realised I was at home. Then, I became aware of a warm presence lying beside me. Licia.

I smiled to myself and stretched luxuriously, then I turned towards her, put my arm around her waist, and snuggled up to her. She was lying with her back to me and I moulded my body to hers, like the proverbial two spoons in a drawer.

She stirred slightly and murmured as she emerged slowly from a fathomless sleep, a murmur that changed to a giggle as I kissed the downy hair on the nape of her neck.

'Mmmm,' she breathed, 'Morning lovely.'

We stayed, just like that, spooned blissfully together, for long, precious minutes. Then she wriggled and turned over to face me. I slipped my knee between her legs and she squeezed my thigh with hers as we shared little affectionate pecks on the lips, then lay dreamily, dozing slightly with our foreheads pressed together.

I was relishing these magical dawn moments especially, because we would soon have to get up and get busy. We had a flight to Portugal to catch that day, plunging us back into the racing routine of elite cyclists and, after that, we'd return to our separate lives and the past two days would be just a memory. A priceless memory.

I was surprised that, after our sexual excesses of the previous day, I didn't feel exhausted. It was nothing like waking up after that wild night with Helen, and I lay and wondered why. Perhaps it was to do with the number of orgasms in a short time? The night with Helen had been intense, the day with Licia much longer and more luxurious. One thrilling, one fulfilling.

Whatever, I felt good that morning, as I eventually tore myself away from her and rolled out of bed. I tottered to the bathroom, had a massive wee, showered, and then peered through to the bedroom, where she was still languishing. 'Come on lazybones, we have to be at the airport in two hours. Breakfast in 20 minutes... downstairs.'

I heard her grousing to herself as I descended the stairs, and presently heard the shower running, followed by the usual crashing about that seems to accompany Licia as she gets herself disorganised for the day.

I smiled and hummed to myself as I pottered about, making coffee, and preparing what I hoped was a delicious and nutritious breakfast.

She appeared, bumping her suitcase down the stairs, and we sat and ate, chatting just like any regular lesbian couple. It was a kind of domestic idyll, something I found comforting and scary in almost equal measure.

Licia would make a perfect partner, and it was telling that I was spending so much time thinking about that, and imagining it, but could I choose her in preference to any of my other equally dear girlfriends? It wasn't a question I wanted to answer. I wondered what was going on in HER head when she inevitably thought about this.

Anyway, Porto beckoned and we started getting ready to depart. 'Passport, tickets, money,' I chanted, in a mantra that had become so tediously familiar to me. 'Passport, tickets, money.

In her typical style, Licia joined in, and she danced around my kitchen, repeating the chant and flourishing the required items in her hands, though in lieu of the last two items she just waved her phone. Swankbot.

At 1pm we were on the plane and fastening our seatbelts. We smiled at each other. Not for any particular reason, I think it was just that we made each other smile.

It had been novel, travelling to and through the airport with her. Usually, I'd be on my own, but this time I had a companion, which made everything feel different. It was nice. Coupling.

The logistics of travel to Porto had been a bit of a talking point. Not for Licia and me -- we had the luxury of a direct flight from Edinburgh - but for Molly and co. We had discussed the possibility of flying my three race bikes there from Brussels, but Molly was favouring just driving there in the Lyonmobile, a journey of almost 2000km (around 1200 miles). This caused a certain amount of dismay to Fanny and Marianne, who didn't relish the prospect of two long days in the car -- and yes, Molly did propose to do it in two days.

Luckily for them, a knight in shining armour stepped in. The knight was Molly's pet mechanic, Joss, and the shining armour was his van, which was a fully-equipped mobile workshop with room for three bikes. It even had an on-board jet-wash, which I'm sure made Fanny very happy.

Joss and his wife Sanne decided it would be an opportunity to escape the dank northern winter for a few days, and enjoy (hopefully) some Portuguese sunshine for a while. The only possible downside was that my bikes wouldn't arrive back in Belgium until 8 or 9 days later, but since there was a three-week gap before the next round it worked out perfectly. Plus, Joss had promised that the bikes would come back 'Immaculate and ready to win again.'

They actually set off on the 28th, and were driving through France while Licia and I were enjoying our day of amorous abandon. What a great team I have.

***

Round 8: Porto

The Portugese round promised to be something very different. Portugal does have a winter, of course, but it's not like the winter in Belgium, let alone Scotland.

Licia and I emerged from the Oporto airport terminal building blinking in the unaccustomed brightness of brilliant sunshine and a temperature of 18-degrees Celsius. The people where I live would think it was an unusually fine summer's day.

Our team hotels were not far apart, in Mindelo, a 15 minute taxi ride away, and we got dropped off at a point close to both and unloaded our bags onto the pavement.

We embraced and kissed, and somehow it felt like a significant parting. It shouldn't have -- we would still be close by for the next two days -- but our little interlude as a... there's no other way to say it...a couple, was over. My feelings were more than mixed.

We picked up our bags and set off to our hotels.

The organisers had taken a gamble, scheduling this race for New Year's Eve and, as I expected, a proportion of the peloton simply decided to skip it all together. Obviously, those of us with the ambition of taking the overall title were all here, but there were notable absences; Pekka, Olga, Märta, Carmen, the French girls, and my team mates Mari and Sandi, to name a few.

Of the rest of us, some were determined to fly home immediately after the race, and only a minority had chosen to stay and celebrate the new year in Portugal. Happily for me, those who were staying included Licia, Lucy, Annike, Maisie, Sabina, and the lovely Helen.

Despite the wondrous weather, the ability to sit outside in the sunshine, and the proximity of New Year celebrations, the atmosphere seemed a little subdued, certainly compared to Willingen, or Dublin. The absent faces at dinner were missed, and the talk about the course was quite muted really. I think we were perhaps all ready for the three week break.

Ingrid, Annike, and Helen had been out and had a look at the course, which was laid out among the dunes of Novo Paraiso, a kilometre up the coast, and they had pronounced it, 'just a big sand party.'

'It's not ALL on sand, is it? I asked, alarmed.

'No, not all,' Ingrid replied, 'there's some fast tracks, a little bit of concrete, and two fabricated bridges where the course crosses itself. One of them has ramps but the other has stairs on one side. And there is a triple set of barriers to jump over too. It's very artificial... and very nearly flat.'

'There is lots of sand though,' Helen said, 'too much for my liking.'

Well I don't really like sand, either. It's amazingly tricky to ride on, or through -- way worse than most kinds of snow, and worse than all but the most "peanut butter" types of mud. I wasn't really fancying it much.

After dinner, a group of us set off to check out what we were told was the best bar/club on the coast. It was apparently THE place to be, and the place where the biggest celebrations would be the following night. To be honest, even without all that, the name alone would probably have lured me in. It was called "Sumoqueda," which can be translated as "Hot Juice." Oo... nice.

The place was a trip, with a great bunch of people, a lively bar and a separate room with music playing, where people were dancing.

I spotted Licia at the bar, and I made sure I took Helen with me when I went over to talk to her. There was never going to be a better opportunity to get both of them in the sack with me...

At this point, Helen and Licia only knew each other enough to say 'hi' in passing, but, if I got my way, I would make sure they would get to know each other much more intimately before the night was done.

We stood at the bar chatting, and I noticed that Licia and Helen were checking each other out, a little archly. Licia was obviously thinking about the threesome I'd suggested, and Helen knew that Licia had been staying at my house because I'd told Maisie and, well, Maisie and Helen are incorrigible gossips.

I was enjoying it, to be honest. I was loving watching them checking each other out, and I was loving seeing them together. My excitometer was starting to rise up the scale as I realised the chances of the threesome coming true were getting higher.

'Let's sit down and talk,' said Licia, and we found seats nearby. It didn't take long for a certain sexual undercurrent to enter the conversation.

'So, I hear you were staying with Chloe in Scotland, Licia,' said Helen. 'Did you enjoy it?'

Lìcia glanced at me with a little smirk. 'Erm, yeh, it was good. We had a great bike ride...'

Helen wasn't deflected. 'I admit, I'm a little jealous... but not of the bike ride.' She looked at Licia impishly.

'Oh really?' said Licia, nodding with a fruity smile. 'I don't think you need to be jealous, Helen. Chloe thinks you're wonderful, (it was true, I do) 'she says you have legs to die for.'

'Helen smiled. 'Yes, she likes me to give her a little squeeze with them.' She parted her thighs slightly, as if to show them off a little, and they looked as sumptuously impressive as ever, even in the track bottoms she was wearing.

'Yeh, I found out she likes that too,' said Licia, giving me a fruity look.

This was great. Slightly bizarre, but great. They were kind of flirting with each other -- over me! God, I'm such a lucky cow.

The conversation had turned openly and overtly sexual now, and Licia went straight to suggestion; 'Chloe told me she has a fantasy about a threesome with you and me, Helen. What do you think about that? She fixed Helen with a sultry stare, and then spoke to me. 'It's true, isn't it, Chloe?'

Well I wasn't going to deny it at this point, was I? I put on a swoony kind of voice... 'Oohh yes, a night in thigh heaven.'

They both laughed and Licia's nose wrinkled up adorably.

'Mm, I'll think about it,' said Helen, teasingly. 'Let me get more drinks,' and she went to the bar.

Licia leaned towards me, squeezed my leg with her hand and said 'How did I do?'

'Fucking brilliant,' I grinned.

Helen returned and we talked more. Mostly about sex and the encounters we'd had so far this winter. It was Licia's turn to be jealous; 'God, I don't get anything like the opportunities you do.'

I reminded her about Lauren and Magi, because she'd already told me she'd been with them, and she repeated the story for Helen. 'Yeh, I got lucky there. It was at Troyes. Remember those silly shower cubicles?' Helen nodded and I thought again about Lucy and her healing hands. 'Well, I saw the two of them in the shower, obviously playing around with each other, and I was feeling bloody horny, so I just walked over and asked if they wanted some company. They were more than willing.'

'Did you do it... in the shower?' Helen asked.

'No, we only messed around, but we ended up later in an Ibis Budget hotel...' She paused. 'Then we really did it...'

She described, in lurid detail, the combined strap-on and queening that Lauren and Magi had also done with me, but with Licia it sounded like they'd greedily done it in ALL combinations. 'God those two are hot - and you've gotta love those French bushes.' She grinned, saucily.

'Do you like strap-on?' Helen asked.

'Never really been interested,' said Licia, 'but it was good that night.'

'Yes..' Helen pondered, 'I do like something in there sometimes, but it doesn't need to have straps.'

We all tittered at Helen's practical assessment of the value of a strap-on. 'Something "in there" I giggled.

'Well, you know what I mean...' she said, blushing slightly and, with her pale colouring, Helen does blush beautifully.

This subject was obviously making Helen a little hot under the collar - well, not under the collar, but you know what I mean -- and she wasn't the only one. It was Helen that took the initiative though, as was hoping she would. She put her hand on my leg and said. 'Chloe, I've thought about it. Do you think we could bring Licia to our room?'

'I thought you'd never ask,' I said.

'Let's go,' said Licia, jumping up eagerly.

We set off to walk the short distance to our team hotel, me in the middle, with Helen and Licia on my arms, giggling and making lewd, suggestive comments to each other as we went. Just three gay girls, heading for some horny fun. And yes, I really am a lucky cow.

Nobody even batted an eyelid as we strode through the hotel lobby and up the stairs, and we let ourselves into the room and turned on the auxiliary electric heater. We were going to need it warm.

'Looks like you got what you wanted, Chloe,' said Licia, smiling fruitily, 'Helen and me together.' Helen was also smiling, but I could see in her eyes the lust she had for Licia.

'You want to watch us at first? Helen suggested.

'Perfect, I said, and sat on one of the beds, as they started undressing each other. Licia's fleece was first to go, followed by Helen's beautiful Tyrolean wool jumper. LIcia's tee shirt followed, then she started unbuttoning Helen's shirt...

My mouth was dry watching them - the exact opposite of my pussy actually -- and my heart was thumping. God, I loved seeing them together. They are not so much different in height, or probably in weight, but the contrasts between them are so fascinating: Licia's chestnut brown, collar-length hair, so fine and flyaway, with Helen's strawberry blonde mane, just slightly frizzy. Licia's round, almost chubby face, with Helen's more angular, fine-boned features. Licia's firm, shapely, but small breasts with Helen's softer, fuller, more plump ones. And those legs...

Now that I saw them together, I realised those thighs weren't really alike at all. In fact, they reflected a general contrast between their two physiques that I had been vaguely aware of, but which really stood out now they were together; Licia -- compact and muscular. Helen -- softer and more fleshy. Licia's puissance was overt and undisguised, whereas Helen's muscularity was more subtle. It was latent, but I knew only too well that her strength and power were only just beneath the surface. I found them both incredibly compelling and attractive.

As they were undressing each other, Licia kept looking at me, as if watching for my reaction. In fact, she was paying more attention to me than she was to Helen, and I suddenly realised, with a shock, that she was doing this, first and foremost, to please me. I felt... well, I don't know what I felt exactly, but it was disconcerting. Perhaps more than any actual sex act, this was an act of love.

Don't dwell on it, Chloe, I told myself. Just enjoy the moment.

Licia and Helen were kissing now, and having experienced both their kisses I knew that this would be an extraordinary experience for both of them. My empathy with it moved my juice machine up to a higher gear. I loved watching them kissing. In my head, I was imagining how Helen's kiss felt to Licia, and how Licia's kiss felt to Helen. Both simply gorgeous.

Obviously, I couldn't resist joining in for very long, and I started hurriedly getting rid of my clothes until all three of us were naked, and I lay back on one of the beds and beckoned them with an imperious finger. I wanted both of them to make love to me. A dream come true.

I opened my legs in welcome, as they crawled onto the bed, and I guided their heads to my pussy with my hands. I wanted them both to taste me, to share me. To share in the arousal they'd made.

They smiled at each other, and took turns to kiss my glistening pussy, both licking their lips, making 'mm mmm' sounds and giggling slightly, then they kissed each other with their juicy lips, a kiss so horny I could hardly even imagine it.

They spread me open, one fubsy lip each, then they went cheek to cheek, both their tongues fencing over my inner lips and clitoris, lapping, swirling, and teasing.

Jeeeeezus, this was so fucking hot. My pussy was aching, zinging, pulsing, as they shared me. Two tongues driving me insane with prurient lust. They caught my clit in a pincer movement, squeezing it between the tips of their tongues and squishing it this way and that until it cried for mercy, or I did, rather. "'Oohhwww...ahh.

They pulled back and Licia said to Helen, 'Watch it twitch...' Then to me, 'You have a very mobile clit, Chloe, ' but I was barely hearing. I was floating on a magic carpet of lust and pleasure. My pussy had taken me over, as it does, sometimes.

They licked me again, taking turns to flick my lips with their tongues, then pulled back to gaze at my quivering clit. My God, I was ready to explode, and they were going to make sure I did!

They slipped fingers into me -- 2 each (!) -- and then alternated thrusting them in and out while still giving my clit THE most tongue-tastic time. There was no way I could survive, and my orgasm galloped up like a raging beast, and just ran me down and rode roughshod over me.

I jerked and jolted as climactic shocks zapped me, and Licia and Helen pulled back again and just gazed at my sex in wonder as I came. 'Fuuuck, look how WET she is..' said Licia, and they dived back in, to lap at my little white river, scooping up my cream on their tongues. Then they kissed again, tongues fencing and twirling, savouring my taste. I raised my head briefly to look at them, then slammed it back down onto the bed with a groan. This was just TOO fucking horny.

When I regained the power of speech, I croaked, 'Oh my God... you two...' and I pulled them up for a kiss. A gorgeous three-way kiss that was unmistakeably Licia, Helen, and ME. Beyond words.

They gave me a little time to regain my calm, lying each side of me and just running their hands idly over my skin, then Licia said 'Are you ready for something even hotter?

'Even HOTTER?'I said with an incredulous laugh.

'Yes, even hotter. Do you remember us once talking about being tongue-fucked and face-fucked at the same time? Well now there's three of us...' She looked at Helen, who was nodding.

'Oh, wow, YES!'

Honestly, the combinations that are possible with three girls together are just awesome. I could have Licia's long, strong tongue inside me, and Helen's thick, thewy thighs squeezing my head at the same time. It was a recipe for a total meltdown. I almost screamed with joy.

Helen moved up the bed as I lay in exquisite anticipation, but she didn't just simply kneel over me. No, she straddled me very slowly, deliberately sliding the inside of her thigh across my face as she did so, and I pursed my lips to kiss it as it passed over my mouth. Kiss, kiss, kiss, thigh muscle, goose flesh, then quishy wet pussy lips. Oh Helen, baby, you're so fucking hot.