Walking my dog, Bobby, is always something that makes me happy. We live deep in the countryside in a cottage you access by one of the many singletrack roads in my area. It’s a peaceful, chilled existence.
You might imagine that taking Bobby out along the road is easy, but I always have to be aware that a car might be coming round the next corner, hidden by the high hedges that line the road. Worse still, it might by a cyclist -usually a middle aged man or two wrapped in unfortunately figure-hugging clothing – approaching a bend at the same time we are. At least with car you can usually hear the engine. Bikes on the other hand are practically silent.
Like I said, walking Bobby is a joy, but I can never let my guard down.
One day a few weeks ago we were out for the usual stroll, an hour of happiness before I needed to get home and start work. It was warm for the time of year where I live, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, Bobby was wagging his tail, and my world was pretty much perfect.
We were on a straight bit of road with pines stretching off on either side when I spotted the cyclist coming towards us. I called Bobby back, put his leash on, and stood at the side of the road, waiting for the bike to pass before continuing. To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to them; I’d been trying to get Bobby to sit right in at the side of the road whenever we encountered a bike or car, so I was more focused on him, gently repeating “Wait” to him.
“Beautiful day,” the cyclist said.
I looked up in surprise, because the voice was female. Of course I had seen female cyclists before, but they usually travelled in groups. She was the first one I had seen riding solo.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s lovely.”
I was expecting her to ride past me, but instead she slowed right down until she stopped on the road alongside us. Bobby is a bit of an attention whore, and he pulled towards her hoping to get stroked. I held him firmly while at the same time understanding why he wanted her to touch him.
Like most road cyclists, she was dressed fully in lycra (I think Americans call it spandex?), but the difference between her and most I saw was that she wore it well. She wasn’t skinny, but not chubby either; just that perfectly ‘womanly’ shape. As she plucked her water bottle from the holder on the frame of her bike, I took the opportunity to fully appreciate her figure.
She was standing astride the bike, legs straight, head tilted back as she sucked on the bottle and swallowed her water. Her legs were tanned and her nicely rounded calves led to thick but not overly muscular thighs. Her cycling shorts were light blue and skin-tight, and even though she was standing almost side-on to me I could clearly make out the bulge of her pussy in. The shorts were tucked into it a little, showing me the faintest of indented lines marking the groove between her pussy lips. I supposed sitting in the saddle had pressed the material so hard into her that it was firmly wedged there.
Her ass looked soft and round, her tummy not entirely flat, and her tits were small but appetising. I stared at them, realising that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and that her nipples were hard under her top. Truth is, I probably stared a little bit too hard for a little bit too long.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
I looked up from her tits, and the faint smile on her lips told me that she had totally caught me looking at them. It was the first time I had actually focused on her face. I know – guys, right? She was a bit plain looking, brown hair tied back in a pony, obviously no make-up on, but she was definitely fuckable.
“Bobby,” I said, a little bit embarrassed that she had caught me near-drooling over her tits.
“He’s gorgeous.”
Bobby was still pulling towards her on his leash, panting in the heat of the day.
“Thanks,” I said, wanting to push the conversation on, but not really knowing how to. Turns out, I didn’t need to, because she was just about to do that for me.
“Man and dog out for walk, and both of them end up with their tongues hanging out.”
She put her hands on her hips and stretched her back, pushing her chest out as she did, before turning back to face me.
“You like my boobs, don’t you?” she asked, looking me dead in the eye.
“Yeah,” I said, too stunned by how forward she was to say any more.
She cupped her tits in her hands and squeezed them, looking down at them as she did.
“I’ve always thought they were a little bit too small. Always wanted bigger ones, you know?”
She was speaking like she was talking about something else, her voice relaxed and easy. I felt my heart quicken and my cock start to grow in my trousers. When she continued to grope herself, but switched her attention to pulling on her nipples, rolling them between her thumbs and index fingers, I was instantly fully hard.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
She flashed a quick, cheeky smile at me and stopped touching herself. She glanced up and down the road, obviously making sure no one was coming before she spoke again.
“Do you know what the best and worst thing is for a girl riding a bike?” she asked, before continuing without waiting for my reply. “When you’re a girl, if you sit just right on the saddle, you can position it so that it’s pressing against your pussy in the best way. Like I said, it’s the best thing about cycling, but it’s also the worst, because after an hour you’re so soaking wet that all you want to do is reach into your panties and get yourself off.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I said. “Why don’t you just stop somewhere quiet and do it?”
Her lips curled into that cheeky grin again.
“Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes, like today for instance, I think it’s more fun to stop beside some random guy walking his dog and tease him until I can see the shape of his hardon through his trousers…”
She looked down at my crotch to emphasise her point. I glanced down too, although I already knew that the shape of my dick would be obvious. And it was.
I took a step towards her, but she held up a hand, stopping me.
“I’m in that teasing type of mood today,” she said. “But, I’m married, and I don’t cheat on my husband, ever. So, can you handle a No Touching rule? Or do I have to continue on and find myself another random guy somewhere?”
I could have mentioned that most husbands I knew would consider their wives deliberately making another man hard absolutely a form of cheating, but of course I didn’t. Instead I just stayed where I was and said, “Sure, I can handle that.”
“Good,” she said with a smile. “Tie your dog to the fence and then we can play a little.”
I did as she said, quickly looping his leash round the fencepost before turning back to face her. I thought she might lean her bike against the same fence, but she didn’t. She just stayed exactly as she was, one foot on the ground either side of the frame.
“I don’t have very long,” she said. “I’m expected home at a certain time, and I won’t be late. Tell me what you want me to do. Anything you want, as long as you obey the rule.”
“Show me your tits,” I said quickly. “I want to see them.”
She looked up and down the road before gripping the bottom of her top and pulling it up, revealing two perfect little tits that were paler than the rest of her body. The nipples were pink, hard, and surrounded by generous areola. She looked sexy as fuck, standing there in the bright sunlight, proudly showing herself off to a stranger. I started to squeeze and tug my cock through my trousers, already aware of how wet the tip of it was.
“You like?” she asked playfully.
“They’re fucking perfect.”
“Thank you,” she said, pulling her top back down. “Next?”
“Your pussy. I want you to show me it.”
She sat back down slightly on her saddle and I watched as she rotated her hips, grinding herself against it. I figured from her position that the front of the saddle was pushing right into her hole. She moaned and groaned as she used it to semi-fuck herself.
“Call it my cunt,” she said, closing her eyes and pushing against the saddle even harder. “Tell me you want to see my cunt.”
“I want to see your cunt.”
“You want to see my dirty, sweaty, little cunt?”
“Fuck yeah. I want to see your dirty, sweaty, little cunt.”
She was now rubbing herself back and forward quickly on the saddle, her hands on the bike’s handlebars for stability. I’m not sure, but I think I could hear her hole squelching. Her breathing was getting shallower and faster. She was well on the way to making herself cum.
“Pull your dick out,” she said, suddenly stopping fucking herself and pulling away from the saddle. “Quickly, before anyone comes. Get your cock out for me. Show me how hard I make you.”
I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my trousers and pulled my dick out just as she instructed. I wrapped my hand around it and started jerking myself off hard. I knew I would be spurting cum onto the road in less than a minute.
“Stand in front of me,” she said.
I moved round to the front of the bike so that only the handlebars were separating us. As I did, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and her panties (pink and soaking wet) and pulled them both down to her thighs.
Her pussy looked amazing. It was hairy but not too hairy, just the way I like it. Her lips were open enough that I could see her clit, her mound was prominent, and I could see little globes of pussy juice dotted about her pubes. She sat back down against the saddle and began to masturbate with it again. I watched as the black leather – now glistening with her wetness – slid back and forth between her legs, opening and spreading the lips of her cunt each time it pushed forward. I rubbed my dick hard as she fucked her bike, flexing her thighs and gripping the handlebars so tightly that her knuckles were white. With her shorts and panties down I could now clearly hear her hole squelching each time the saddle passed over it.
“Tell me I’m a dirty bitch,” she said, looking right into my eyes.
“You’re a filthy little slut,” I said, holding her gaze.
“Oh fuuuuuuuck, Yes! I’m a filthy little slut.”
“A dirty, filthy little slut who likes to tease men and show them her sweaty little cunt.”
“More,” she panted. “Tell me more.”
“You’re a dirty little slut who’s going to let me smell her hole,” I said, my orgasm just seconds away.
“How?” she asked.
“Push your fingers up your cunt then let me smell them,” I said.
She nodded frantically, reached between her legs with her right hand. I watched her hand curl underneath her as she pushed her fingers into herself. When she pulled them out they were covered in her juices, glistening and shining in the sun. She dropped her pussy back onto the saddle and held her wet fingers out to me. I breathed in the scent of her, strong and beautiful and so fucking primal.
The smell of her cunt was all it took for my balls to tighten, my thighs to clench, and threads of white, silky cum to shoot from the tip of my cock.
“Dirty little slut,” I growled as my orgasm thundered through me. “Dirty, dirty little slut.”
“Yes!” she shouted. “Fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuck yessssss!”
Her entire body shook and quivered as she came, her pussy pressed hard onto the saddle, jerking and juddering against it. She took her fingers away from my nose and held onto the handlebars for all she was worth. So powerful was her orgasm that she almost looked like she was having a seizure. It was utterly beautiful to watch.
My cum landed on her bike, on the tyres, and even a little bit on her leg. I put one hand in the handlebars between hers to steady myself, otherwise I honestly think I might have collapsed onto the road.
We both stood for a few seconds, slowly and gradually catching our respective breaths. Her eyes were closed tight. Bobby was whining a few feet away, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
“That was fun,” she said, finally opening her eyes. She got back off the saddle and pulled her shorts and panties back up. I watched until her pussy was fully hidden again, pleased to see a wet patch quickly spreading in her shorts.
“Yeah,” I agreed, tucking my cock away. “It was.”
“And now that it’s over, if you don’t mind moving out of the way, I need to get home.”
I stepped aside. “Do I get your number?” I asked as she clipped one foot back into a pedal.
“Oh no,” she said with a look of mock horror. “Married, remember? But, if I’m ever out this way again and I see you, I’ll be sure to stop and say hi. I mean, what dirty little slut wouldn’t?”
She winked, pushed down on the pedal, and before I could say anything else I was watching her cute little ass as she cycled away down the road. Bobby barked once, and I reluctantly looked away from her just before she disappeared round a bend.
“I know, mate,” I said. “Let’s finish the walk. But it might need to be a shorter one today. – I don’t think I’ve got the strength to do the usual.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/tpkf5i/hot_in_the_saddle
Nice