Riding With Dirty Girls Pt 12

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.

12. Namur

I settled myself on the sofa and pressed play. It had taken me until Tuesday evening to bring myself to watch the full playback of the live Benidorm coverage. The race had been so sweet and then so bitter for me. An epic tussle, an exhilarating escape, and then a crushing blow. I knew it would be tough to watch, but I always watch the races back. I think you can learn a lot from it. Usually, I do it on Sunday night though.

My battle with Lucy and Femke was epic, and we looked in a different class to everyone else. My decisive attack was MAD, but it was the only way to break the deadlock between the three of us. Bravery and commitment was needed, and I was proud that I had it.

The puncture though, that was harsh, especially coming when it did. Gallingly, it probably happened before the pits, but I didn't become aware of it until after, so couldn't do a bike change.

Watching the video, my actions seemed mechanical, just putting the bike on my shoulder and setting off running, like an automaton, but I knew the crushing pain of bitter disappointment that was inside me during those moments, and it was noticeable how the noise of the crowd changed as they realised what had happened, from wild excitement to a lower-pitched groan. I confess, I groaned myself as I watched it.

The whole Benidorm weekend had been a heaving swell of emotions; the soul-nourishing intimacy with Helen, the carefree, child-like playing with Licia on the warm-up ride, the gritty determination of the race, the disappointment at the finish with the heart-tugging empathy of Lucy, the soaring, libidinous sex with Carmen and Mavi, and my ongoing, inescapably jumbled feelings for Lucy and Licia.

When I got back to the team hotel that Sunday morning, Helen the incorrigible goss-hound wanted to know where I'd been and who I'd been with. I couldn't resist telling her all about Mavi, and her eyes just got wider and wider as I gave her the gossip she craved.

'Wooow... Envious,' she said.

I suppose it was enviable. It was certainly exhilarating, but it hadn't left me with the usual feeling of elation. I felt... ambivalent about it. Dissonant.

I yawned my way through breakfast, making Helen smirk, knowingly, and my usual rapacious appetite was missing. I was a little woebegone, somehow, but there was something else. Was it... guilt?

I dismissed the notion out of hand. I'd never felt guilt about any of my decadent sexual excesses, but that's what it felt like, and I didn't like it.

I'd returned home with the question still gnawing at me. What had transpired with Lucy and Licia that night while I was with Carmen and Mavi?

I had both their numbers of course. I could have just called them and casually asked, but something stopped me and, when I thought about it, I realised that I didn't want to know. That's where the dissonance came from. I was simultaneously dying to know, yet didn't want to know.

And the guilt? That was because I hated the thought of either of them in someone else's bed, yet I'd willingly -- eagerly -- gone to bed with Carmen and Mavi. Unlike any other time, it felt shabby.

That Tuesday night as I watched the race playback, these feelings still gnawed at me. I hadn't called anyone, and no-one had called me. It felt like an aching limbo.

I decided to call Molly, just to escape the void. She would have arrived home that afternoon.

'Hi Molly, how was your trip home?'

'Hi, Chloe. It was good. Pretty easy really. Have you done your ride today?'

'Yep, all 50km in the bloody pouring rain.'

'Ah well, it will make you stronger. Were your legs OK? That was a pretty big effort on Saturday, especially with the running...'

"Don't remind me, but yes, all good. My HR and variation both look good too. I'm in top shape, Mol.'

'Yes, very high level. There's more to come though, I can tell.'

'I keep working on it.'

'That puncture on Saturday was a pinch flat, probably due to the stones. Joss has suggested a different tyre for Namur. It's a bit heavier, but tougher, and we can run it at a slightly higher pressure to help with the cobbles. Shall we change?'

'Yeh, sounds good. Go ahead.'

'On all three bikes?'

'Yeh. If it's better let's have it on all of them.'

We chatted on about all this good, diverting, cycling stuff, and Molly was delighted when I asked her to suggest a programme of spring classics for me to do. 'I knew you'd give in in the end,' she said. She didn't realise that it was really talking to Licia that had convinced me.

When we ended the call, I saw that Licia had tried to ring me while I was talking to Molly... Ulp. I couldn't put it off any longer. I called her back.

'Hey babe, sorry, I was talking to Molly.'

'Hiya, how's it going? You've been quiet.'

'Well, so have you,' I said a little defensively.

'Yeh, I guess so...'

There was a pregnant pause, and I decided to probe. 'How was your Saturday night?'

'Er, it was good...' I sensed a reluctance to talk about it, especially when she switched the focus back to me; 'How about yours? I saw you were talking to Carmen and Nisa, then you and Carmen disappeared. Did you go anywhere nice?' It was a pointed question. I knew what she was getting at.

'Yes, actually. Carmen's friend runs a hotel, La Movida, we went there.'

'Nice for you.' Although her language was guarded, she seemed a bit miffed -- even a little petulant.

'Where did you end up?' I asked directly.

'Oh God...' She paused again. I'm sorry babe... I looked for you but you'd gone...'

'So what happened?'

'I went to Lucy, and... sorry babe.'

'You got a room somewhere...'

'Yeh. Sorry babe'

'Licia, why do you keep saying sorry?

'Well, I think you have a bit of a thing for Lucy. I'm not stupid, Chloe... I didn't do it to get at you though babe, honestly I didn't.'

'Hey shush. First of all, we are supposed to be free and easy about all this stuff. Secondly, yes, I like Lucy, but we aren't a couple, just like you and I aren't a couple. You said it yourself.'

'I know, but...'

'Shush. Thirdly, It would never cross my mind that you'd do something like that just to "get at" me. I know that's not you, Liss.'

This had become quite an emotionally-charged conversation. I think both of us were quite close to tears, but strangely, in my case, they were almost tears of relief. Thoughts of Lucy or Licia in bed with someone else had plagued me, but the two of them with each other seemed somehow much less vexing, for some reason.

I decided to lighten the mood a little. 'Anyway. Was it good?'

'Yeh, it was. It's all new to her. She's loving it. She told me about the shower in Troyes...'

'Did she?'

'Yes. Said it was her first girl-girl experience.'

'We didn't do anything.'

'No, she said that, but she said that was when she first really knew she wanted to.'

'Yeah, the tension was electric.'

'She told me about the phone sex as well. You gave her a nice initiation, didn't you? Phone sex? I've never had that with you.'

'Well, there's still time... It was Maisie who got me into it She's so naughty.'

'Yeh, but no longer footloose by all accounts.'

'No, that's right. She and Sabina are an item now.'

'Serious... A proper couple.'

'Lucy asked me how close we were, you and me...' There was another pause.

'What did you tell her?'

'Oh, that we are great mates, but not a couple.'

The question 'Is that how you really feel?' was on the tip of my tongue but I didn't ask it, and the opportunity passed.

'Anyway, she's really into it now. Wants to explore much, much more. Definitely doesn't want to settle down with anyone. Says it's her "new youth" and I don't blame her. 30-odd and a new lease of life.'

Hmm, I'd kind of forgotten she was 30-odd. You'd never know to look at her. She's one of those women who will still be gorgeous when she's 60..

'So you need to spill it now. You didn't go to this hotel with Carmen just for a nice chat, did you?'

'No. Honestly, Liss, Carmen's friend Mavi is a total trip. We were up until three. It was wild. When I got back here on Sunday night, I slept like the dead. I don't think I've ever been quite that tired.'

'Not surprised. A wild threesome on top of what was a crazy race, Chlo. That's gotta put your lights out.'

'I chuckled. 'Yeh, someone woke me up on the plane cos I was snoring...'

'Ha... So... this phone sex thing. Is it just dirty talk, or what?' - It had obviously piqued her interest.

'No it's mostly sharing images. Last time Maisie and I did it -- which was probably THE last time -- she introduced me to fruit...'

'What, as in playing with fruit? Mango in your fandango kind of thing?

'I roared with laughter... 'Oh Licia, you don't half crack me up sometimes... Yes, that kind of thing, but in her case it was oranges and in my case a banana and then some strawberries.'

'Mm, niice. I like the sound of it. I have played with fruit on my own, but never done the phone thing. I had a mate at college who used to do it with a friend of hers, and they weren't even gay. They liked to titillate each other over the phone but knew it was just that. No actual sex involved.'

'They must have been a bit gay, surely?'

''Yea, but I think quite a few women are.'

'Seems weird. They must just be in denial really.'

'Mm, that's what I think... Soo... Have you any fruit handy at the moment?'

'Maybe... Are you trying to se-juice me?

'Oh, nice one,' she laughed. Yes, I'd love to get you well juiced up.'

'What have you got there?'

'Some satsumas, a couple of apples, and some grapes. What have you got?'

'Bananas, two oranges, and strawberries. I always have strawberries.'

'Couldn't we just do it on webcams?'

'Yeh, we could, but in some ways the still images are hotter. Give it a try. I'll start us off...'

I went and got strawberries from the fridge, feeling a little zing of anticipation of what was coming. The flagrant thrill of shamelessly showing off.

'Just getting some strawberries...'

'Oo, OK.'

While I was in the kitchen, I turned the heating up, since I knew I was going to get naked. I returned to the lounge, and whipped my top off. As so often in the house, I wasn't wearing a bra.

My nipples were already fabulously erect, and I wet one of them generously with saliva then touched the tip of it with a strawberry, then moved the fruit just far enough away so that a stringy strand still attached it. I brought the phone close, waited for it to focus, and... ka-chink. I sent the pic.

'Oo, niice... is that saliva or cunny honey?'

I chuckled. 'Saliva, but don't worry, the honey will be along shortly... Your turn.'

There was a little bit of strange humming from her, then, pingg... the image showed a satsuma, half-peeled, with one segment removed, forming a "mouth," and she was plucking at a nipple with it.

'Oh my God, you just might have a talent for this.. Where's the missing segment?

'Somewhere warm and cosy...'

'Show me '

Pingg... she definitely had a talent. The picture showed her pussy, lewdly spread with two fingers, and the merest hint of orange between her lips, and she doubled its impact by simultaneously saying, in a low voice, 'Edible.'

'Mm mmm,' I murmured, while my free hand was hurriedly getting rid of my bottoms and knickers...

I lay back and opened my legs, then inserted the strawberry into my entrance and rolled it around, getting plenty of my whitish juice on it, then I slid it up between my inner lips, spreading them, until it pushed up under my clit, which was amazingly engorged and shiny. I brought the camera close... Ka-chink. I sent the image, waited a few seconds, then just said 'Strawberries and cream.'

There was a faint, breathy 'fuck' from her, then, after a few more seconds... pingg. Oh God.. this pic was of her pussy sitting on top of a bunch of grapes, some of which looked very wet and shiny, and her slick, fubsy lips half enveloping a couple of them. Her deliberately breathy voice said 'Delicious.'

We went on like this, sharing incredibly lewd images, with spoken captions, and wanking like crazy in between.

At one point, I sent two pics in quick succession. The first was of a peeled banana, deep in my dribbling pussy with only a couple of inches visible, and the second was of the same creamy banana, almost as deep in my mouth as I ate it. I spoke the caption between the two... 'Banana slit.'

Not to be outdone, she sent a stunning image of a small bunch of dripping grapes being dangled over her outstretched tongue. The caption? 'Grapefully received.' O.M.G.

Soon the only sounds were those that women make when we are close to monumental orgasms, moaning and wailing at each other as we fingered ourselves to sexual Sion.

We took a while to calm, then Licia said. 'Christ, you weren't wrong, babe. That was insanely hot.'

She was right. It was. In fact it was the most intensely horny phone sex I'd ever had, even surpassing Maisie's and Lucy's.

'We should do it again sometime.' I said.

'Lots of times... Oh God, Chloe you're so hot, I...' Whatever she was really going to say got arrested mid-sentence, and never came out. I didn't prompt her, and she switched to the safer, '... I get turned on so easily around you.'

'You may have noticed it's mutual.'

She gave a little giggle... 'Thanks... best go to bed. We've been online for ages.'

'Yeh, thank goodness for WhatsApp calls, eh?

'Yeh... Night night Chlo.'

'Night Liss. See you at the weekend.'

Kissy noises, then we ended the call.

I ate a couple more strawberries, then went upstairs to get ready for bed. I put my comfy warm 'jamas on and crawled under the duvet, feeling very sexually sated.

I smiled to myself as I savoured the snuggly warmth of my bed, and I briefly held her pillow to my face again, trying to detect her traces. They were fading away now, and the time was not far off when I'd have to wash the sheets and pillowcase, and then she'd be gone. Unless I could bring her into my bed again.

I lay thinking about her as I waited for sleep to claim me. Oh God, she was so perfect, and so much fun. The perfect playmate... on the phone...on the bike... in bed... in the pub... She could have been made specifically for me. She'd be my perfect lover, girlfriend,...wife... and I just knew I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I let her go.

I spiralled into sleep, and dreamt, abstract snatches of dreams, all with the overriding theme of regret. Sorrow. An anxious clutching for something already lost.

***

The forecast for the weekend was grim. Namur, in Belgian Wallonia, was expected to be visited for days by sleety squalls, even colder than those we encountered there during our training camp.

Molly relished the prospect; 'It will put the emphasis on running strength and bike-handling -- both fortes of yours.' That was true, but really bad conditions can make a race a bit of a lottery, when an unlucky crash can cost you dear.

I think Molly was also relishing the fact that the venue was only about two hours drive from her house, as well as being very well-known to her, with many happy memories. She'd had some of her most epic victories there, including the first of her three European titles, after an epic battle with the cx legend Jolijn de Thall. It was a Belgium-Netherlands rivalry, and a race that heralded a changing of the guard, as Molly retained the title for two further years, while de Thall retired.

Molly has always said Namur is the best course on the calendar, and for a long time I think she may have been right, but then Willingen came along...

I'd never raced on the Namur course, so I arranged with Molly that I'd stay with her on the Thursday night, and we'd drive to Namur on Friday morning so I could do a thorough recon. A good position was essential if I was to win the World Cup title, and I had to beat Lucy, who knew this course like the back of her hand, so I needed to learn the course thoroughly.

I flew to Brussels on the Thursday, and Molly collected me, as we'd done so many times before. As usual, the sight of her, waiting for me in arrivals, put an involuntary beaming smile on my face. I just can't help it. She's ace.

We drove back to Waregem and one of Molly's transcendent stoofpots. She knows it's my favourite, and she always makes it for me. I think she looks after me better than my mum, sometimes.

After we'd eaten, we sat watching a video of the previous year's Namur race, which I'd missed due to the same chest infection that had kept me away from the British Championship race.

We watched the whole race, and Molly pointed out the tricky bits of the course and gave me tips on tackling them, and things to look out for.

I'd watched the race before, just after it had happened, but it was good to watch it again. Lucy had won, with a very impressive ride. She'd had a bad start and was 14th at the end of lap 1, but she had then rampaged through the field, catching and passing Carmen on the last lap. It was impressive and daunting.

'I have to try to beat her on Saturday.' I said.

'Yes, and you are capable of it. You are at least equal to Lucy on this course, I think. It will just be a matter of a having a good start and not making any mistakes.'

She pointed out Femke's woes. She had crashed multiple times and only finished 7th. 'She was trying too hard. Riding beyond her skills. I don't think you need to worry about her. You are far better at handling the bike on this kind of course than she is.' I hoped she was right.

Although watching the race again was fascinating, I kept casting furtive glances at Molly. As usual, she was wearing track bottoms and a tee shirt with no bra and, as usual, she just had effortless sex-appeal. She made me helplessly horny. She was irresistible.

As Lucy crossed the finish line, hands in the air and shaking her head in disbelief, I rummaged in my bag. I had a little surprise for Molly.

I pulled out a small package. 'Remember me saying I'd bring some stockings? Well here they are.' I'd made a special trip into Edinburgh to visit the lingerie shop, and bought a pair of black stockings with deep welts and a suspender belt.

I was not used to buying lingerie, and I found the shop quite intimidating. The woman serving seemed very glamorous, but she was full of compliments and helped me choose. I made sure they were long enough to come right up to the tops of my thighs, just leaving a small amount of bare skin, because that's how I think they look best.

'Oo, spoiling me, aren't you Chloe?

'Yes. You're worth it.'

She smiled and stood up. 'Come into the bedroom.'

'Oo er, that's the kind of invitation that can go straight to a girl's head... or pussy.'

I followed her and we rapidly stripped. She lay on the bed, with one knee drawn up and watched me as I took the lingerie out of the packet. I fumbled a little because I could hardly take my eyes off her. I'm always beguiled by the contrast her pale skin makes with her luscious black bush, her black hair, and the smoky eye makeup she wears.

Anyway, I put on the suspender belt and rolled the stockings up my legs. I wasn't really familiar with putting on stockings, let alone making a show of it, but Molly's appreciative murmurs told me she was enjoying it and when I was done she said 'Mmm, lovely. Just as I knew it would be.'

She rolled off the bed and looked in the bottom of the wardrobe, then bought out a pair of black high heels, saying, put these on.' They were a size too big but it didn't really matter.