Watch for the head bob, I said to myself, watch for the head bob.
Even wearing sunglasses, I had to shield my eyes looking east into the bright morning sun backdropped by the cloudless blue sky. I stepped closer to the asphalt so I could see around the other people doing the same thing. We kept watching to our left as far down the road as we could until it sloped away behind a hill.
It didn’t take long until we could see the head bobs of the first
as they made their way up the final hill in their 15-mile journey. We watched the first cyclists flash by as they sped across the finish line. We turned back to the east to watch for the rest. As more came by, I kept watching for one in particular.
Finally I saw her climb the hill. Here she came, pedaling furiously, hunched over, grasping the bars with both hands, her short, blonde hair peeking from underneath her ice blue bike helmet, riding hard …. and she was smiling.
“Way to go babe!” I yelled as my wife Maggie rode by. I knew she heard me because she grinned.
I watched her safely ride past the finish line and roll to the stop. I ran to meet her, waiting as she got off her bike and walked it through the post race staging area. I waited for her. I could see Maggie was giddy with excitement. She was happy and I was happy for her.
“Well done,” I exclaimed as I put my arm around her, bent down (she is several inches shorter than me) and kissed her on her cheek. “That was a great ride for the first time on this trail.”
Mags was still trying to catch her breath. She took off her helmet which left her with wet, matted hair and sweat dripping down her face. “Thanks,” she said grabbing a water bottle from a nearby table. “That was a tough ride, but boy, it was fun.”
Cycling was a recent new love for Maggie. She had started slowly as a way to ride bikes with our three daughters. As they grew older, Maggie increased her riding time and started to enter competitions a few years ago. Mags usually rides 20-25 miles a week, most of them on Saturday.
Me? I am not much of a bicycle rider; preferring instead jogging and golf. Each year, we each plan one major competition. This was Maggie’s — a yearly cycle competition in a western state that is complete with a ride that features sharp hills, curves, and a path going by both mountains and streams.
My role was to drive to various points of the race to cheer her on. I would watch her go by and then drive to the next observation point. I felt part of the race.
Maggie had spent months, preparing for this. This ride had been a dream and now she had made it.
“Are you sore?” I asked as I took the bike from her.
Mags took another drink of water and shook her head. “Nothing a hot shower and massage won’t cure,” she said. Then she giggled. “Hope I can find someone who wants to rub my body later today. I need that post-race massage.”
We slowly walked to our vehicle. I secured the bike on the rack attached to the back, we got into the vehicle and left the competition. We were staying in a historic downtown eight-story motel in a city about 10 miles away. It was a nice drive back as it gave Maggie a chance to relax. Even tired and exhausted, Mags looked beautiful to me. Her sweat-drenched cycle jersey also clung to her body in all the right places. That was a nice view too.
Around noon, we got to our hotel and took the elevator to our seventh-story room. The inside air-conditioned air felt good after being in the summertime warm weather. As soon as we got into the room, Maggie pulled the cycle jersey over her head revealing her sports bra. She tossed it aside and sat heavily on the bed. She began to pull off her shoes and socks.
“I think it is shower time,” she said as the last sock came off. She looked up at me, her blue eyes sparkling and a smile creeping up the corners of her mouth. “You want to join me?”
Trying hard not to look at her legs or semi-exposed breasts, I tried to feign interest, which wasn’t easy. “How about why you do that, I look for a good place for lunch? You have earned that.”
Maggie looked at me quizzically because I have never — I mean never — given up that kind of chance. She shrugged her shoulders and said with a sly smile, “Suit yourself. I am off to get wet with or without you.”
I just grinned and watched her wiggle her backside into the bathroom. After I heard her close the door — luckily she didn’t lock it — and turn on the water, I rushed to my suitcase.
Buried deep under clothes and in a small bag was Maggie’s prize for finishing this race: A gold necklace especially made in this state. I had ordered it several weeks before and picked it up the day we left for the bike race. I knew how hard she had worked for this race; the time, the energy and yes, the pain. This had not been easy. But she had done it and she deserved something to remember the moment.
I had been thinking all through the race how to present the necklace to Maggie. I thought a surprise would be the best way — and besides, Mags always loved surprises.
Taking the necklace case out of the bag, I carefully crept towards the bathroom and pushed opened the door. Mags was still in the shower. I heard her singing and saw the outline of her alluring figure through the curtain. I placed the black case on the counter near the sink and quietly retreated from the bathroom. I took a seat in a winged back chair facing the two beds and the bathroom which was on the other side of the room. I tried to look for restaurants as I continued to hear the water run. Finally, the water stopped.
“Should be just seconds,” I thought. In my mind, I could see Maggie reaching for a towel and stepping out of the shower. I could see her drying herself off and seeing the box on the sink. She would go over there, with towel in one hand, open the box with her other hand, see what was inside, and …..
“Ohhhh myyyy!” I heard Maggie exclaim from the bathroom.
I grinned. “I think she likes it,” I thought.
A few minutes passed as I tried to concentrate on my iPad. I looked up when I heard her soft voice. “How do I look?” said Maggie. She had her right hand on the door frame, her left hand was on her hip. Mags was wearing the necklace, a beautiful smile … and nothing else.
I squinted. “What am I supposed to look at?” I asked.
Mags shook her head and laughed. “The necklace, silly.”
“Oh. I was distracted by other things,” I said, getting up from the chair and walking to meet Maggie near the desk and drawers which sat in the middle of the room.
“Do you like it?” I asked as we locked our arms around each other. Maggie hugged me tightly, her head on my chest. “Of course I do!”
My hands squeezed her naked behind and I looked down into her beautiful eyes. “Good,” I whispered. “You deserved it. That was a big challenge and you did it. I am proud of you.”
Once again, Maggie’s blue eyes sparkled and she reached up on her tip toes to lightly kiss me on the lips. Then wordlessly, she led me by the hand to the edge of the bed and sat down.
With me facing her, Maggie unbuttoned my dress shorts and pulled down the zipper. With both hands gripping my shorts and my underwear, Maggie jerked my clothes from my waist, over my rear end and pushed them down my legs, leaving them at my feet. Mags smiled slightly, softly placing my twitching penis in her hands. She gently kissed its head and then took me into her mouth.
I gasped as my erection quickly grew. I could feel Maggie swirl her tongue around it. I alternately heard a sucking sound and felt a stroking sensation. As my fingers ran their way through her still damp hair, I could see Maggie’s other hand gently slid down to probe her own private place. That aroused me even more.
Finally, Maggie released me from her mouth. She slid backwards, up to the front of the bed and propped herself on the pillows. Her legs were spread, bent at the knees, allowing me a view of her physical beauty. Mags smiled and said, “Any chance I can get a rub down after my long ride?”
I removed the rest of my clothes, got up on the bed and quickly crawled to her, sitting on my knees between her legs. I took her left leg and placed it on my shoulder. I used my hands to carefully and slowly rub her feet, calves and thighs. I took my time with the massage; being both gentle and sensual.
My hands slowly made a journey from her feet down to past her thighs; getting close to, but not reaching her middle. As I traded the left leg for the right, I could tell Maggie had started to relax. Her eyes were closed; her arms and hands outstretched.
Finishing with the legs, I bent down and kissed her private entrance, my tongue moving up and down the opening. Maggie groaned. I moved up her body, kissing her stomach and then her rib cage. I gently massaged her breasts.The shower water followed by the cool room AC air had had made her nipples erect. I kissed them both and used my tongue to trace my way from her sternum, up her neck, ending at her mouth.
We kissed deeply. Placing her hand on the side of my face, Mags smiled. “I think the post-race massage is almost as good as the ride itself,” she whispered.
I lightly tapped her hip, indicating that she should turn over. Mags laid on her stomach and I began to slowly massage her neck, shoulders, arms and back. I could feel her muscles relax. She shivered slightly as I used a forefinger to slowly make my way down her spine. My hands worked the small of her back, stopping to caress her rear end and then down to each leg. I did the same as I moved back up her backside. I kissed the small of her back and then her shoulders.
As I remained on top of her and kissed her neck, Maggie turned her head so she could kissed me. She did. “My turn,” she whispered.
I rolled over on my back. Maggie turned on her side, facing me. She began planting small kisses on my chest. Using her left hand, she slowly began stroking me. Up and down, from the base to the top. Each stroke bringing me close to the edge.
As I began to groan in pleasure, Maggie abruptly stopped. She kissed me again. Maggie then swung her left leg over my hips. She centered herself over my middle and slowly lowered herself down on my penis. I gasped as I watch my penis slide into her.
Settling snugly on top of me and I in her, Mags sat up straight. She looked beautiful up there; her blond hair falling to her shoulders, her necklace shining brightly around her neck, the nipples on her breasts erect. I rested my hands on Maggie’s inner thighs, my thumbs caressing the outer folds of her entrance.
Mags smiled, bent down and kissed me. “Watch this,” she whispered.
My beloved shifted her hips with her knees tucked underneath her, planted her hands on my chest and began to move up and down. It was slow at first, but she began to accelerate her pace. As she moved up and down, I could see her moisture gather on my penis. I alternated between rubbing her breasts and lower back.
As Maggie crept closer to her pleasure moment, I could see the intensity build in her as she quicken the pace. Her blonde hair fell around her face, her eyes were closed , the necklace was hanging loosely around her neck, her hands grasped my arms like they were a bicycle’s handlebars and her head began to bob up and down as it did while she was cycling earlier that morning.
While Mags moved up and down on me, I pushed up into her. The rhythmic pace was too much for me; I thrusted upward one final time as my surge flowed into her. Mag’s grip tighten on my arms as she moved closer to the edge until finally she gasped, grinded her middle into mine and stopped as the sensation overwhelmed her, her head bowed and her eyes still closed.
As we came down from our spiritual and physical high, I pulled Maggie down so I could kiss the valley between her breasts. Mags settled back on top of me, sitting up straight again. She pushed the hair out of her eyes and flashed a contented smile.
“What is so funny?” I asked.
Mags sighed, bent down, gave me a long lingering kiss and then rested her head on my shoulder.
“In one morning, I got to ride my bike and then the man that I love,” she whispered. “How lucky can one woman get?”
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