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.

10. Interlude

January 1st. 9:50pm.

I stumbled through the front door, dumped my bags, and threw my car keys on the kitchen counter. The house was cold. Dammit, I'd forgotten to remotely turn on the heating. I could see my breath in the kitchen as I turned it on manually, then plugged the kettle in. The house felt austere and unwelcoming, but a cup of tea would help, and the heating would soon warm the place up.

I went into the living room, rubbing my hands together, and turned on a couple of low, cosy lamps. Even if it wasn't warm, I could make it LOOK warm. It was too late to be worth lighting a fire, but the heating did the business, and within half an hour I had taken my jacket off and was settled on the sofa with my second cuppa. The house's hygge was slowly coming back, but it still felt empty...

It had a strangely barren feeling. Some might say I was just lonely, but I've never suffered much from that. I've always been a pretty self-sufficient individual, and I'm usually content with my own company. I wasn't used to this feeling.

The events of the past week had unsettled me. First, spending time at home with Mum and Dad had reminded me of younger days, when there were always people around. Always someone to care.

Then there was the little interlude when Licia came to stay, and we'd fallen so easily -- shockingly easily - into being a couple, and I'd liked it a lot. Way more than I expected to.

And then there was the time in Porto, and its unsatisfactory conclusion...

When Lucy came to me at the end of the New Year celebration, and we kissed, my heart leaped. I held her tight and tried to make the kiss something special, but it wasn't. Maybe it was just that we were both drunk, but it didn't feel like a Licia kiss, or even a Helen kiss, and I was shocked by that. I wanted so much for it to be transcendent.

When we separated, she just smiled and squeezed my hand, then walked away. Within five minutes, I saw her leaving with her team mate, Anna. She didn't even wave.

Licia also left with her team mates shortly afterwards, and all I got as a parting gift from her was a peck on the cheek and a squeeze of one of my bum cheeks. I didn't even get a chance to tell her I was sleeping alone that night.

I didn't really want to sleep alone, but when Helen came over with Annike and said 'Are you walking back with us?' I was pretty much resigned to it.

We went to get our coats, and as we passed Maisie and Sabina, Maisie turned her palms up and looked at me with an unspoken question. I just shrugged.

I had an unsettled night, tossing and turning, and grappling with bitter disappointment and unanswered questions, and I must have been very subdued at breakfast. Nobody seemed to notice though, which only added to my sense of isolation.

I didn't even get to see Licia before I left Porto either. My flight was in the evening, whereas she'd caught an early-morning red-eye. When I was eating breakfast, she was already winging her way back to Dublin.

I was not a happy girl as I sat on the plane from Porto to Edinburgh that evening, brooding. It was a vexing way to start the new year.

Now, here I was, back in my little house that I love so much, and which usually has such a warm welcome for me, and it felt... cheerless.

I looked at the clock. Almost 10:45. Licia was very likely to be in bed after her previous late night and early morning, but I had to call her. I needed to hear her voice.

It took her a while to pick up, but then: 'Hiya babe. Just got home?' she said, stifling a yawn. It was such a thrill to hear her voice.

'Yeh, few minutes ago. Sorry if I woke you up. I just wanted to hear you.'

'Well, you did wake me up, but I'm glad you did. It's great to hear YOU.'

'Sorry. I realised you might have gone to bed early.'

'No, I'm not in bed. I fell asleep on the sofa. You OK? You sound a bit down.'

'Yeh, just feeling a bit sorry for myself maybe.'

There was a long pause... I almost thought the connection had dropped, but then she said. 'Did you come back and find the house was much emptier than usual?'

'Yes.'

'I did too. Strange feeling...'

'Yeh, 'tis. Coming home never felt like this before.'

'Same here.'

We were sharing our similar experiences without voicing what we both knew. It was those two days together that had caused this. We had glimpsed domestic harmony, domestic bliss. Togetherness. Just briefly, we were a couple, and now we were pining for each other. Maybe the feeling would pass -- or maybe it wouldn't.

I changed the subject. 'So, are you defending your title next weekend?' I was referring to her British Cyclocross Champion title. All the national championships were on the weekend of the 14th/15th, which was the main reason why there was such a big gap in the World Cup schedule.

'Yeh, I'm planning to. Are you going to be there?' she asked, cagily.

Realistically, she knew If I was there, she'd likely lose the title, but I was not inclined to take the title from her. 'No, I'm not going. I'm going to put in a solid training block. I'm going over to Belgium to train with Molly and the girls for 4 days next week.'

'Cool,' she said, obviously very approving of my plans, and the prospect that she would likely be able to retain the jersey. I hoped she would, but I knew she wouldn't have it all her own way; there were a few very talented youngsters coming up through the ranks. She'd need to be on top of her game.

'Good luck. I'll look out for the result.'

'Thanks. I think I'm on top form at the moments. I mean, top 5 yesterday. Best result I've ever had.'

'Yeh, great ride that. You weren't easy to get past, that's for sure.'

'Thanks, Chlo, that means a lot. I couldn't believe it when I caught up with Leona, then outsprinted her at the end.'

'Well, I think I'm going to hit the sack,' I said. I'm pretty tired. You must be too.'

Yeh, I'm heading that way myself... Wish you could join me.'

'Me too.'

'Night, babe'

'Sleep tight.'

I turned off the lamps, put the heating back onto timer, and headed upstairs. The bed was still messed up from when we'd left it, just a couple of days before. Rather pathetically (and I'm embarrassed to admit it now) I started sniffing all over the bed and pillows, trying to pick up a trace of her scent, and there were traces. Her pillow smelled of her hair, and I held it to my face and inhaled. Why was it so comforting and so melancholy at the same time?

I went to sleep hugging the pillow to me. Perhaps I was a little lonely after all.

...

I awoke in the morning just as the sun peeped over the horizon, and it was dazzling. The weather had become very cold and clear. I squinted out of the window to see that all the rooftops and the grass verges were frosted, but the road was just wet. Spready had done good work again. It was a day for a nice easy recovery ride.

I started getting my winter training togs out, then I had a sudden idea. I almost always trained alone, unless I was on a club ride, but I remembered how much fun riding with Licia had been, and I fancied some company. On the off chance, I decided to call my club-mate, Brenda.

Bren and I had ridden well together on a few club rides -- she's very fit for a non-pro - and I'd often thought we should ride together more often. Luckily, January 2nd is a public holiday in Scotland, and I was hoping she wouldn't be working. She's a vet though, so she could be on call on any day.

I found her number in my phone and pressed "call." 'Hi Bren. Happy New Year!'

'Happy New Year, Chloe! Hey, brilliant ride in the dunes the other day.

Thanks, yeh, it made a nice change. Listen, have you anything on today?

'Ermm, on? No, not really, I'm off work today.

'D'you fancy coming for a ride with me? Nothing too mad. An easy 30 or 40 miler maybe?'

'Aye, brilliant. Thanks for asking me. I'll get the bike out.

'Cool. Meet at The Woolly Sheep at 11?

Yeh, great. See you there.'

I sat at the kitchen table and ate a hearty and calorific breakfast. One of the luxuries afforded to serious athletes. Of course, it was heavy on fruit and yoghurt, but it also contained Scotch pancakes with honey, and toast with Scottish blackcurrant jam. Although I do like a traditional bacon and eggs breakfast, I'd never eat one before a ride because there's too little carbohydrate, and it's way too dehydrating.

I turned up outside The Woolly Sheep in full winter gear, including a thermal balaclava under my helmet, overshoes, super-warm "Roubaix" bib tights, and a hi-vis windproof gilet. It was sunny but, typical of winter in the UK, the sun had no power at all. It was bloody freezing.

Brenda rolled up dressed very similarly, and we shared a little hug then set off on a make-it-up-as-you-go-along kind of ride.

I don't think I've said much about Brenda up to now, apart from her riding prowess. She's taller than average, and well-built. A bit like Marianne -- a strong girl. I'd guess she's about 30-ish, with reddish brown hair, worn in a plain short bob, rosy cheeks and blue eyes. I guess she looks quite typically Scottish. She certainly sounds typically Scottish, and sometimes comes out with things I don't understand.

She's good company on a ride. Quite chatty and not overly competitive (some people make every ride into a race) but she's very strong. She could certainly have held her own as a pro, if she had chosen to pursue it as a career, but she's committed to her job as a vet.

We meandered through the hills for about four hours, including a lunch stop, and we chatted about all sorts of subjects, including bike racing, her job -- lots of funny, and not so funny, animal stories -- food, and relationships.

To say the relationships conversation was surprising would be an understatement. I'd never heard any hint from her about a partner and I assumed she was single. Since I'd never mentioned the free girls or anything like that to her, she probably assumed that I was the same. I wasn't even certain she knew I was gay and, come to think of it, I wasn't even sure whether she was straight.

When the subject came up, I said, 'Do you live on your own, Brenda?'

'Aye, just me. You're the same aren't you?'

'Yeh, but I have... girlfriends, you know?'

'Well, I knew you were gay, but girlfriends in the plural?'

I wasn't sure how much I wanted to reveal about my rather unconventional lifestyle. I didn't know how shock-proof she was, so I played it safe. 'Yeh, there are a few gay girls in the racing community. Two or three of them are a bit special to me, but I don't have one steady girlfriend.'

'Ah, and when you say special, are your relationships with them physical?'

She meant did we fuck...? and I gave her the simple answer. 'Yes...'

'Hm'

We rode along in silence for a while, as she digested this new info. She hadn't had even a glimpse of what we get up to, but it seemed to have given her food for thought.

'So, do you have anyone special, Bren?'

'Me? No.'

'I assume you're straight...?'

'A-ha.' -- a Scottish way of saying yes, but it sounded a bit non-committal.

More silent riding... then, suddenly, 'I don't need anybody, Chloe. I have almost no desire for sex, and I'm not really attracted to people -- of either sex -- romantically, or physically, so it's kind of academic to talk about gay or straight. Medically, you could call me asexual and aromantic.'

I was speechless. Unable to make sense of what she was saying, but then I almost wobbled off the bike when she continued; 'You'll probably be shocked to hear that I'm a virgin. I've never had sex. When I die and go to heaven, I'll have a label on me saying "returned unopened." She laughed, mirthlessly.

She was right. I was shocked, because this was shocking to me. Much more shocking than pee sex, or any little kink Maisie could introduce me to. I simply couldn't process the idea of living a completely sexless life. How could she be happy like that?

I couldn't think what to say, so just came out with the standard incredulous response. 'Really??'

'Yes, really. I know it's unusual, but I really have no desire. It doesn't make me unhappy. You don't miss what you've never had, and I have plenty of other things to fulfil me. It makes life way less complicated... This bike ride with you is literally better than sex to me.'

I chuckled, but I was still reeling. It wasn't something I could easily get my head around. It's a good job I didn't tell her the full extent of the lesbian love club. I think she really would have fallen off the bike.

We returned to The Woolly Sheep Cafe, and went in for tea and cake -- an essential ritual at the end of a ride. I suspect that was better than sex to her as well.

We parted, after making arrangements for another ride the coming weekend, and I rode up the hill to my house, musing to myself. Brenda is good company, and I decided we should ride together more often, but that complete lack of libido was something I would never understand. It just brought home to me how we are all made differently, and what a fluke it was that there were so many highly-sexed women -- gay women - competing in the Cyclocross World Cup.

When I was under the shower, feeling the inescapable sensuality of it, as I usually do, I wondered how Brenda could run her hands over her body, her breasts, nipples, between her pussy lips, and not feel anything sexual at all. It almost made me want to try to introduce her to these pleasures, but I dismissed the idea immediately on the grounds that it would likely be awkward, disappointing, and probably a complete failure.

That night, Maisie called; 'Hey Chloe, how's it going? How's sunny Scotland?'

Sarcastic minx. 'Actually, it IS sunny just now. Bloody cold though. How's Cabourg?'

'Ah, it's OK. Looking forward to heading home tomorrow though. I like my own space. I have my own room here, but they can hear me. Kinda spoils it when I have to keep quiet, you know?'

'Oh yes...'

'Anyway, I've been dying to call you all day... What the hell happened with Lucy?'

I sighed. 'Well not much, actually. We had a New Year kiss.'

'That's it?'

'Yeh, pretty much.'

Maisie knew that wasn't "it," and she just said, very firmly, "Tell me."

I sighed again. 'She grabbed me for a kiss, and I wanted it so much. I wanted it to be special. Magical. But it just wasn't. Then she just left. It was disappointing. Disappointing like you wouldn't believe.'

'Hm, well you were both kinda wine-wasted, and maybe you had just built it up too much in your head.'

'Maybe.' I pondered, gloomily.

'Have you talked since?'

'No,'

'Why not?'

'I guess I'm scared to. What would I say?'

'Well, "Hi Lucy" might be a good start. Just touch base with her Chloe. See what she says.'

I love this about Maisie. She's so candid and direct, and so pragmatic. Everything is simple the way she sees it.

'Sounds easy when you say it, Mais.'

'It is easy. C'mon Chloe. Give her a call. I'm gonna call you from home in a couple days, and I want to hear that it's all straight with Lucy. OK?'

'OK. Thanks Maisie.'

'Speak soon.'

She was right, of course. I should just call her. Why was it so scary?

I decided I had to bite the bullet and make the call rightaway. I got myself a strong coffee, settled myself on the sofa, found Lucy's number, and pressed "call"

'Hi Chloe,' (clearly she had my number in her address book).

'Hi Lucy, are you well?' It was a bit of a naff thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything else.

'Yeh, I'm good Chloe...

There was a pregnant pause, as we both wondered where to go from here. The New Year kiss and its underwhelming aftermath was instantly like an elephant in the room. I decided to just come straight out with how I was feeling about it. 'I was a little hurt when you just left without even saying goodbye... was the kiss that bad?'

'Oh no, Chloe. I'm sorry. I panicked... Again. It wasn't the kiss. Well, it WAS the kiss... I liked the kiss. I liked it too much. It did things to me. I was scared how it did things to me.'

So... it was only me who thought the kiss was lacking something.

'I just wanted you to kiss me, Chloe to find out how it felt, and it felt good. It scared me. I really think I'm gay, Chloe.'

'Well that's not a bad thing, is it? I think it's a great thing to be.' She didn't say anything, so I went on; Honestly, Lucy, there could be pleasures you never dreamed of waiting for you, but you have to open yourself to it.'

She just gave a non-committal 'Mm,' so I continued.

'Is it only me, Lucy, or are you feeling an attraction to other girls too?'

'Other girls too, a little. Mostly you though. Ever since you fell at Troyes, and especially in the shower.'

'Yes, that was hot...' I smiled at the memory.

'When I came to you in the shower, it was a sudden urge. A sudden want. It was strong. Irresistible, almost. I have never had that feeling before.'

'I know the feeling.'

'Do you?'

'Yes, of course. It's called lust.'

'But me, a woman, for you, a woman?

'Yes, why not? I find women are well-worth lusting over.'

She laughed. 'Yes... I think you are right... Since I've had these feelings, i started watching some porn online, and I got very wet and horny and had to masturbate -- from watching girls! Does that happen to you?'

'Of course it does. Mostly though, I don't need the porn, just my imagination, or my memory.'

'I have no memories like that though.'

'Mm. It's a shame we are so far apart, or we could make some...'

She laughed her lovely laugh again. 'Oh, Chloe, you're so naughty.'

'You haven't seen anything yet. If you let me, I'll show you how naughty I can be.'

I was in full vamp mode now. Just talking to her like this was making me wet. What a shame we weren't in the same room.

'I think I will let you... show me. I need to experience it. Lesbian sex. I don't think it will leave me alone.'

'Next time we are together, Lucy. It's nearly three weeks away though,' I moaned.

'I know. It's too long.'

'Send me a picture, Lucy. I want to see your face.' I know, we could've set up a webcam chat, but that would have meant us both getting out laptops, and I was reclined comfortably on the sofa. Maybe next time.

Ping. I opened her selfie... God. Such a beautiful woman. I was speechless, so I just smiled sweetly and sent her a selfie back.

I heard her chuckle. 'Thanks, Chloe. You're so cute.' Cute? Hm, OK, I'll take it.

'Do you want to see more? I'm cute all over, me.'

'Oo, sounds naughty, what you are suggesting.' I could tell she liked the idea.

'It is. I do this with Maisie quite often. It's horny.'

'Really? Show me.'

I got one tit out and sent her a close-up of my erect nipple. 'See how horny I am."

'Mm, me too,' she moaned in a low, breathy voice. Such a sexy voice.

'Show me.'

There was a pause, then -- ping. My fingers were trembling as I opened the pic, which was a full shot of both her breasts, with those gorgeous upturned nipples, just as I remembered them from Troyes. 'Oh beautiful boobs, Lucy. I'm making a mess of my phone.'

'Your phone?'

'Yes, with my wet fingers,' I said, being deliberately provocative.

'Ohhh, Show me.'

I knew what she wanted me to show her. I pushed my leggings down to my ankles so that I could spread my knees wider, set the phone's timer, then opened my glistening pussy with two fingers and held the phone close. Ka-chink. I sent the pic.

'Oh my...Chloe this is so naughty. I love it!'