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From: barn_owl@rocketmail.com (Cirsium)
Subject: Sammi's Ride (F solo, MF, cons)
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This story contains material of an adult and explicit nature. If you
are legally underage or your legal jurisdiction prohibits the
transfer, storage or viewing of this file, then please immediately
delete it.

My stories - although erotica - spend time developing place, people
and plot. I write hoping that both women and men will enjoy my
stories. 

Part of an ongoing selection of stories about Sammi, Ron, Delane and
Jacob.

If you like the story and want to read more of the same, drop me a
note at <barn_owl@rocketmail.com>

___________________________________________

Sammi's Ride

by Cirsium

After dinner, Sammi said to her husband, "Ron, watch the kids while I
take a bath." She slipped out of her sweaty clothes in the upstairs
bathroom and ran a tub of just perfect warm water in the large
old-fashioned cast-iron white enamel tub. It was big enough for two.
Ron and she had played in the bath more than once.

Sammi eased herself into the big tub. Her muscles unknotted and
relaxed in the warm water. Her skin turned ruddy - such a delicious
feeling. She soaped herself with lavender-scented soap and washed off
the sweat and dirt from her adventure in the forest earlier that day.

She sunk neck-deep into the warm water, relaxed further, and slipped
into a reverie. With a big grin she remembered her afternoon
lovemaking with her brother-in-law Jacob beside the trail in the
forest.

Sammi had always been faithful to Ron and still couldn't believe she
had been that naughty. She felt a little guilty. But she lay in the
soothing bath feeling delightfully, deliciously, thoroughly,
completely, absolutely fucked - the best in a long time.

Sammi hadn't been that naughty, she thought, since ten years ago as
twenty-one-year old college student. She languidly ran her hands over
her breasts and between her legs as she remembered that bike ride back
one college day.

			******* 

Back then Sammi attended Loyola University. She loved the classical
looking buildings of the downtown Chicago campus - flutes and columns
and gargoyles. Cars, buses, bicycles, pedestrians filled the busy city
streets around the campus. She loved to stand outside and feel the
rush of traffic around her and to look at the soaring buildings - old
and new - of Chicago's Loop. 

What a difference from the small farm town in Central Illinois where
she grew up. Sammi's parents hadn't wanted to send their innocent
small town girl off to the big city. She convinced them because an
older friend from town went to Loyola. 

Her parents couldn't know, but Sammi wasn't so innocent. As a high
school cheerleader, she had discovered handsome, muscular jock
boyfriends were a lot of fun - in a variety of places, positions and
erotic adventures.

Sammi woke up one Saturday morning in her dorm room. Her senior year
had only just started and she didn't have a boyfriend - what a drag.
It must have been the dream; she woke up horny. "Damn, I wish I had a
boyfriend," she thought. Sammi liked her fun, but she liked to have it
in a committed relationship.

She lay in bed and stripped off her t-shirt - the only thing she slept
in. Images of cute guys and tight butts, muscular arms and hairy
chests, long legs and nice hard cocks filled her head. With her hands,
she rubbed herself all over. It only took a few minutes for her to
give herself what she thought of as a "fast-food finger fuck" -
appeases the craving, but doesn't really satisfy the appetite.

Sammi's moans and shouts woke Janet, a young women in an adjacent dorm
room. The sounds coming through the wall excited Janet, so she pulled
down her pajama bottoms and began to play with herself too. Janet's
groaning, added to Sammi's noises, woke more people up. 

The girls with overnight boyfriends began a nice brisk morning fuck;
the other girls masturbated. Soon the whole dorm floor sounded like
the primate house at the Lincoln Park Zoo - grunts and groans, wails
and howls. This tempted Sammi to do herself again, but, hell, she was
always horny.

She pulled on a pair of skintight black cycling shorts - the kind that
supported her tummy, thighs and ass and pressed tightly against her
crotch. Just pulling on the tight shorts aroused Sammi again. "What am
I going to do?" she thought. "Wack off a hundred times today?" Damn,
she wished had a boyfriend. 

She decided to wear the cycling jersey without a bra. The silky
material rubbed against her breasts and nipples in way she
really...liked. She felt very sexy in her cycling outfit. She gathered
her long auburn hair into a ponytail and put an elastic band around
it. Checked herself in the mirror. Liked what she saw.

Sammi put on her helmet and fingerless biking-gloves, rolled her
bicycle to the elevator, out the door and then headed out into the
Chicago hum. Her bike was a mean, lean machine. Shimano gears and
derailleurs, center-pull brakes and special crankset, custom post and
saddle, special handlebars. 

Sammi had spent a small fortune on her bike. It gleamed - not a speck
of dirt - and smelled of lubricants and cleaners from the special care
she lavished on her bike.

Guys turned as she wheeled by. They weren't checking out her Shimanos.
Her pretty face, long auburn ponytail, rounded hips, nice ass, her
long, tan, toned legs and just buff enough arms, the way her breasts
strained against her jersey, made every guy between fourteen and sixty
think about.... 

Sammi loved the masculine attention, but, sigh, wondered why no
boyfriend.

The way to the lakefront led through a maze of streets and ramps - and
beware the crazy Chicago drivers. Finally  the asphalt path, sixteen
miles, that lead past parks, soccer and softball fields, beaches - and
the cool, deep blue waters of Lake Michigan. She headed north through
the last of the downtown. Since she lived midway along the path, her
round trip would be about fifteen miles. 

Joggers and walkers, cyclists and skaters filled the pathway. She
pumped and worked her way up the gears to a good pace - dodging all
the traffic. Sun on her face, lake air rippling on her skin, blood
coursing through her body, deep full breaths - "Ahhhh!" Sammi yelled
for the joy of it - like a kid. 

She really pumped hard - sprinted.  Up off the saddle, muscles
straining, breath heaving, sweating, wind in her face - speeding -
flying along. And then she slowly worked her way back down the gears.
Let herself coast along. Felt that warm rush of endorphins through her
body.

And then, wham! She was aware of the saddle rubbing her inner thighs,
the tight shorts pulling at her hips, butt, legs, crotch, the jersey
stimulating her breasts and hardening nipples. My god, she was so
aroused she thought she would hump her bicycle right there!

"PFFTTT!" Clatter. Flat tire. Damn. Braked. Jumped off. Pushed bike to
side of path. Inspected. Thank god the rim was okay. Sammi took the
tire off its fork with the quick-release lever and got out her tool
kit. She scrambled around inside looking for tire levers. Without tire
levers - little wedges of plastic - she couldn't pry off the tire off
the rim and then patch the tube and put it all back together again.
Helpless. Hopeless. Really pissed.

Sammi tried to wave down a couple of cyclists to see if they had
levers. But Chicago being Chicago, they ignored her and rode by. Then
she saw a vision take shape in the distant haze - a serious, hardcore
cyclist on a $2,000 bicycle. The heavily muscled thighs and calves,
firm ass, the lean, strong upper body. 

Closer, and she saw the angular planes of his face, the strong jaw,
full lips, aquiline nose, thick, black hair peeking out of his helmet.
Maybe he had tire levers - and more, she giggled to herself.

"Need help?"

"No tire levers." She shrugged her shoulders and held up her open
palms. They pushed the bikes out of the dirt by the busy path and into
a clump of bushes about twenty-five feet away. Skillfully they set to
work fixing the tire. Arms grazed. Thighs touched. He thought how he
would like to ask her out for a drink, but they were headed in
opposite directions. Sammi thought about how she might get this hunky
stranger back to her dorm room.

"Well, that about does it. Guess I'll be on my way."

They both stood up, almost touching. Sammi was lost in sort of an
erotic haze. She couldn't believe what she did next. Her toolkit
"accidentally" tumbled to the ground in front of him. She got down on
her knees to get it and was eye level with a pleasing bulge in his
tight bicycling shorts.

He gasped as Sammi slid his shorts down his hips. She took his cock in
her hand and put the tip in her lips. He stiffened immediately and
couldn't believe his luck. Sammi thought, a stranger, a total
stranger. But she wrapped a hand around his shaft and cupped his balls
with her other hand. Her mouth bobbed wetly up and down on his nicely
big and thick cock. 

He tensed. Sammi knew he was about to come, but she wanted hers. She
wasn't coy. "I want you to fuck me," she said.

"Here in this dirt?"

"No, take me from behind on our hands and knees." They both quickly
shed their shorts. Sammi knelt and clutched a strong branch in front
of her. With her other hand, she guided the stranger's prick to the
opening of her pussy. She was so wet he popped right inside. Sammi
frantically fingered her clit while the stranger played with her tits
and plunged in and out. As he pumped in and out and she pushed back
aginst him, their loins made a lewd slapping sound.

She was so hot for cock - it had been almost six months - she exploded
almost immediately. She cried out loudly in orgasm after orgasm. The
stranger grunted loudly as her pussy sent contracting waves around his
cock. He pushed all the way in and began to flood her with hot semen.
It was so intense for him he lost his balance and they tumbled to the
ground.

After a minute they hurriedly dressed. Stood, embraced, kissed. "Thank
you," Sammi said.

"No, thank you." They wheeled their bikes to the path and headed off
in opposite directions. 

She turned her head and called, "What's your name?" But the stranger
was already too far away.

			*******

Ten years later, in the home she shared with Ron and the kids, she lay
in the big bathtub dreamily remembering the only time she had balled a
stranger. Sammi suddenly became aware that she was frigging her pussy
with two fingers of one hand and rubbing her clit up and down and
around with the other. Her hips were humping against her hand and
sloshing water all over the floor.

A cool breeze wafted across her. She opened her eyes and Ron was
standing in the now open doorway of the bathroom. He laughed. "I
wondered why you were taking so long," he said. "Having a little fun
without me?"

"Er, what time is it?" She gave him a big lusty grin.

"Don't worry, the kids are already asleep." He stripped off his PJs
and got in the tub facing her. He was already hard from watching her.
"Come on baby." He helped slide up over and onto to his cock. As she
rode him up and down, moaning and groaning, she imagined the whirring
of bicycle tires....

Insatiable Sammi.

_______________________________


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