THE CYCLIST By Nigel

Hi there guys - here's my latest story which I hope you will enjoy.  Please feel free to contact me: takemypantsoff@hotmail.co.uk - love to hear from you.

It wouldn't have been fair for me to ask anyone else to do it, I knew each member of my little team had been looking forward to the bank holiday and had something special planned for the day, and so I undertook the work myself.  Unlike my employees I didn't  have anything particular to do but even so with the job done I was eager to get home.  There was a shortcut I knew along a small and twisting lane, just wide enough in places for one vehicle, and usually I would not have considered it - the prospect of meeting an oncoming car and having then to back up to find a space to squeeze past wasn't worth any time saved, but on a public holiday there wouldn't be anyone else about.  I flicked the indicator and left the main road.  It was then I met him.

As he heard my vehicle approaching from behind he stood up on the peddles using his whole weight to push them round and gain speed.  His tight backside wrapped in sky blue lycra cycling shorts lifted directly into my line of vision.  I could not but help admire such a sight and held the view.  The speedometer indicated I was driving close to the maximum for the lane so there was no hurry to overtake when overtaking meant I could no longer enjoy his behind.

That behind swayed in response to the rhythm of his pumping the peddles .I could not help but notice from his hair flowing behind in the wind that he was not wearing a cycling helmet, unusual in these days when everyone is so obsessed with safety. The thought was in my mind as I saw the small deer leap from a gap in the roadside hedge only feet in front of the cyclist.   A collision was inevitable, there was no way he could possibly avoid it.  I stood on the brakes and prayed I would not pile into deer and cyclist. 

I screeched to a halt and within a fraction of a second I was out and closing the few paces between us.  "Are you all right ?"  I asked.  A stupid question, the guy had just gone arse over tit to land in a heap on the road.  Shit, he had not been wearing a helmet !  My phone was in the hands-free cradle back in the van,  I would need to call for an ambulance.

The cyclist was sprawled in a heap but started to move and to my relief stood up.  "I'm OK, I think, noting broken."

I hadn't seen what had happened to the deer,  it couldn't have been badly hurt if it had managed to run away.

"No, I'm fine,"  the cyclist said.  And then he saw his bike.

If cyclist and deer had escaped miraculously lightly not so the bicycle.  The front wheel was bent and handlebars twisted to an obscure angle.

"Oh shit !"  He exclaimed.  "It's wrecked."

"Put it in the back,"  I said.  "Let me give you a lift home."

"Thanks, but a ride to the nearest railway station would be fine.  Looks like I'll need a train to get home, can't ride this.  I'm Christian by the way."  He took off a thin cycling glove, wiped his hand down the side of those lycra shorts and offered it to me.

"I'm Scott.  Forget the train mate I'll take you, it's not a problem"

"But I live in Norwich, I was cycling back."

I saw Christian glance at the van upon which was written Scott Transport - Light Haulage and Couriers.

."Your own business ?"

I nodded and smiled, "Norwich it is then."

"But it's miles away, I can't ask you to drive that far."

Norwich was a good forty miles away but sure I'd take Christian home.  "Call it my good deed for the day.  Have you cycled all the way out here ?"  It was a bit obvious really but when one is making small talk silly questions are often the norm.  "You must be keen."

I could not get the view of that lycra-clad behind out of my mind and I quite thought I would like to get to know Christian.

"My office is just fifteen minutes away,"  I said.  "I have a flat above the business, if we go back you can freshen up, I can fix us some coffee or something and then I can run you home."

That short drive enabled us to briefly swop life stories, Christian was interested to know how I had come to have my own business at a young age.

"I'm twenty-seven," I explained.  "My father keeps tropical fish - it's more of an obsession for him than a hobby, he buys most of the fish from one particular shop.  The owner used to drive himself to Amsterdam in Holland once a week to import supplies from a Dutch breeder, he also brought them into England for a load of other shops in the region.  When he was caught speeding just once too often and lost his license my Dad fixed it for me to bring them in. I'd passed my test and Dad loaned me the money to buy a van.  I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life after sixth form so it felt a good idea.  That was my first contract, the start of Scott Transport. We still go and fetch the tropical fish each week only now we go to Amsterdam twice a week, once for the original shop and once for a chain of garden centres dotted all over the West Midlands."

"Wow, what other work do you do ?"

"We've a van that spends all day going round doctors' surgeries collecting bodily fluids and taking them to the hospital path lab.  If an airline at Stanstead misplaces a passenger's baggage once it turns up we are called in to pick it up and deliver it direct to their home.  That was what I had been doing when I met you."

"Lucky for me,"  Christian said.  "Anything else ?"

"There's the magazine run."

"Magazine run ?"

"Yea, on a Thursday afternoon we pick up a couple of pallets from the printers then deliver between twenty and fifty copies to certain  pubs, clubs and other venues throughout Cambridgeshire, Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex.  Friday's always a long, hard day with five vehicles on the road but we do make very good money from it."

I didn't tell Christian these were gay magazines and that I had won the distribution contract after a short fling with one of the publishing house's directors, that was another story.  I wasn't ashamed of my sexuality and didn't hide it but neither did I wear the rainbow stick pin or hang a flag out my bedroom window.

"So what do you do ?"

"I've got a McJob," my new friend smiled.

"A what ?"

"I work for McDonald's,"  he explained.  "Crap job and the pay is even crappier but they are flexible and let me work shifts round my training and race schedule."

I learned that Christian was a full five years younger than I and totally dedicated to the sport of cycle racing.  He regularly took part in competitions up and down the country and hoped soon to enter international competitions.

"But that'll take far more than I can earn at McDonald's and now my bike has been buggered !"

My office and the little flat I call home are on a farm just outside the ancient university city of Cambridge.  It's a converted barn with an office on the ground floor and accommodation upstairs. Although my body did not possess the muscles of Christian we were of a similar size, I sorted a pair of jeans and a tee shirt which I offered as an alternative to his lycra racing gear.

"Take a shower and get changed, I'll fix us a sandwich or something then I can run you home."

"Thanks."  Christian took the offered jeans and shirt but put them down momentarily to pick up a copy of a magazine I had earlier been reading.  It was the magazine my company delivered each week.

"I haven't seen this week's copy yet,"  he said flicking through the pages. "There's usually a good article on website reviews I like to read."

My throat tightened and words just rasped out.  "It's only just come out, it's the magazine we deliver."

Christian smiled.  "Mind if I read it later ?"

"Sure, no problem."

The sound of water running in the shower could be softly heard throughout the small flat as I buttered bread and sliced some cheese.  But in my mind the rattling stream was as loud as a waterfall and forming a backdrop to the vision I had of a naked Christian standing beneath the cascading droplets.  I was gay, had always been gay, and Christian had hinted that he was of the same persuasion.  No, he hadn't hinted at all - he had made it one hundred percent perfectly crystal clear !

When I had viewed that backside tightly pressed against the lycra shorts I had admired it, had I been able to overtake the cyclist it would have remained in my thoughts for some time but would have been eventually forgotten.  Now hapstance had introduced us and I found I liked Christian, perhaps we could become friends. But that would not be enough for me, I wanted more.

The water stopped running.  I continued preparing the sandwiches.

"Shit !"

"What's the matter ?" Christian called from the bathroom.

"I've sliced my finger with a knife," I said clutching the wounded digit with my other hand and looking for a towel or something to wrap round it.  Blood was seeping through and falling in small droplets to the kitchen floor.

"Here, let me see,"  Christian emerged from the bathroom, wet hair dripping down his face and onto hid beautiful body.  He had a white towel wrapped round his waist.  His strong hands prized my fingers away from the would.  He lead me to the sink and ran water from the tap.

"Before I took up cycling and sold beefburgers for a living,"  he giggled gently, "I wanted to be a doctor."

"Really, when was that ?"

"When I was about ten years old.  Have you got a first aid kit ?"

"There are some plasters in the draw over there."

Tending to my injury Christian grinned even wider.  "It is my professional opinion, that of a ten year old would be surgeon, that there is no need for stitches and with luck it will not scar.  If it does perhaps you could pass it off as a war wound or something gained in the line of duty defending a delivery of diamonds from a gang of armed robbers."  His firm hands were holding my own injured hand and not making any quick move to let go.

"You are funny," I said.  "I'd better finish our food."

"Let me,"  Christian said.  "Two wounded soldiers - not our lucky day !"

I wanted him to stay.  I knew I wanted him to stay.

We ate the food and Christian told me more of his sporting ambitions.  I listened with genuine interest.  He did not get dressed but sat with the white bath towel round his middle, the two folds falling between his muscular legs.  His blond hair began to dry and stand tousled about his head. I looked at his strong chest and admired his perfectly formed muscles.  A tingling sensation caressed the back of my neck as he spoke.

In matters of business I am not given to rash decisions, my mind is older than the rest of me when it comes to making money, but an idea that had been forming in my brain became something I determined to do.

"My company will sponsor you,"  I said.  "We'll get your bike fixed, meet your training and race costs then if you can do some driving for us when we are busy we'll pay you a salary."

Christian was about to take a bite from his sandwich, his hand initially paused as he was bringing it towards his open mouth before returning it to the plate uneaten.  He stood up but as he did so the bath towel fell to the floor.  He did not move to pick it up, he just stood there and I was transfixed by the sight before me.  

Finally he said just one word.  "Ooopsy !"  But he made no move to pick it up.

"You are a beautiful looking guy,"  I said hoarsely.  My mouth was dry and my throat tight.

He smiled and said nothing but I hoped that smile was saying something like: Do I get to see you ?

 I moved to stand close to Christian whose hands reached out and took me by the shoulders.

"I am glad that stupid deer ran out in front of me,"  he said.

"Me too."

I moved to unbutton my shirt.  "No, let me,"  Christian said deftly releasing one tiny ivory coloured button after another before pushing wide an open shirt and revealing my chest.  His hands began to glide over my skin.  They moved to my trousers and moments later I too was naked. Our bodies entwined themselves and our lips met.

For the past ten years I had never been all that far away from a sexual encounter, there had been some good times and there had been plenty of bad times.  Never, not once, had I fallen in love.  That never bothered me, sex was physical enjoyment and I had never considered sharing my life with another person. But sometime during the past hour or so Cupid had shot his arrow and I was now head over heels in love with Christian.

Love comes in different forms.  There is love that is fixed and positive, the way a man may love his motor car or a woman a favorite perfume.  Love can be an obsession the way an ardent supporter follows a football team.   We all love our families, different members in different ways.  When we love ourselves we call it pride or self respect.  And then there is falling in love.  With all other forms of love there can be traced a reason or a purpose but when it comes to falling in love there never is any logic only the clearest sign that destiny has been at work.  What if the deer had not run into the road ?  What if I had not taken that short cut ?  Something else, when Cupid shoots his arrows he fires two shots: one into the heart of each person.  I had been hit and so had Christian.

I took Christian by the hand and lead him to the bedroom.  We entered as friends and left hours later as lovers.  And what lovers we were.  Our naked bodies entwined ever pushing the physical to become one and the rest of us moved to a superior spiritual level. Christian's muscular arms bound me to him in an ever closer embrace.  We kissed so deeply apparently without the need to breath. And when it came to entering one another's bodies we truly were as one.

Eventually we lay in each other's arms and fell into a contented sleep.  If it were possible for dreams to exceed that we had experienced then perhaps they did I can not tell, I just wanted this to go on for ever.

I awoke first, hitched myself on one elbow and looked down  on  my  lover.    Sensing my being awake he stirred.    "What time is it ?"

"Just after five."

"In the morning ?"

"No it's still afternoon. Do you have to go ?"

"No."

"Stay, stay for ever. Please."

Christian took me once more into his powerful arms and our love making began again.  I could not tell you, I can not even begin to think, how many guys I have had sex with but this was not sex it was pure and beautiful love.  I had found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, the person in whose arms I wanted to grow old.  My hands reached to fondle those wonderful cheeks, the cheeks I had seen for the first time covered in tight lycra earlier that very day.  So much had happened so quickly and I prayed there was much yet to happen in many, many years to come.

After making love this time we fell into a deep sleep. Wonderful dreams filled my mind.  

Dreams are a strange and seldom understood phenomena, if only we were able to understand them they would give us an insight into our deepest thoughts and emotions.  Dreams reflect and dissolve events from our past to create new perspectives.  They hint at our future, perhaps warning of pitfalls destiny has placed in our way and perhaps trying to turn us to a path which will bring happiness.  My dreams that night were still fitful even though I slumbered far more deeply than is my normal custom, I knew at times I was dreaming but the ideas they contained were so real.  Throughout I held on to my lover and wondered what he was dreaming. I did not want to wake.

It wouldn't have been fair for me to ask anyone else to do it, I knew each member of my little team had been looking forward to the bank holiday and had something special planned for the day, and so I undertook the work myself.  Unlike my employees I didn't  have anything particular to do but even so with the job done I was eager to get home.  There was a shortcut I knew along a small and twisting lane, just wide enough in places for one vehicle, and usually I would not have considered it - the prospect of meeting an oncoming car and having then to back up to find a space and squeeze past wasn't worth any time saved, but on a public holiday there wouldn't be anyone else about.  But should I turn off or stay on the main road ? Something, I had no idea what, was pulling me to turn.  My hand hovered over the indicator arm and hesitated.  What should I do ?

Hope you enjoyed the tale - please feel free to contact me: takemypantsoff@hotmail.co.uk

Nigel