Bikes and Wanking

When I was younger I used to zip around the place on my bicycle. I was too young to drive and in true adolescent style of blowing your pocket money on comic books and stupid crap, I never had any money for the bus. So it was walking, running the gauntlet of fare evasion (which after a month of toil to pay off a fine was an option of last resort) or cycling.

Aside from cycling being a form of transport, I always found it quite fun. Over the years however, I took a more sedentary path, then I could drive, and my bike was looking ever more neglected. In my recently ramped up efforts to lose weight (-40kg so far!) I got cycling again. The first bit of good news is that I am in better shape than I was in my mid-teens. Inclines which would have been dampeners to my cycling efforts are now a cinch.

I mention this, because in my new found hobby, I remember something of my past jerking. I used to go for a ride and find that after returning home I would feel rather horny. The rhythmic brushing of my pants would be the culprit of this particular horniness. I can't believe I had forgotten about this aspect of bike riding!

This all occurred to me when I had pedalled my way to the highest point of my suburb. There is a "view" of the skyscrapers some 20km away (in that there is an empty lot in the right place). It is a fairly odd hill, hard to describe, but from the peak, not far away is the lowest point of the suburb. The lowest point is a quarter park / 3 quarter nature reserve. Most people stick to the paths in the park, few venture into the designated paths in the reserve but there is a lot more to see if you go for a wander in the rest of it, so that is what I usually do.

I wheeled myself down from the peak and headed off into the park. I cycled around the regular paths for a while, and headed into the bowels of the reserve. I found my usual secluded spot and parked myself. Not only is this place good to sit and ponder, look at nature, but it is also a good place to study. There is no phone reception, no anything really. I did some thrillingly dull work on my thesis and put it aside. I lay back and looked up at the clouds rolling overhead. I thought of the girl I asked out, unsuccessfully. I thought of the screaming erection in my pants.

I proceed to rub my dick through my pants, slowly at first, but increasingly faster. I unzip my fly to reveal a distinct wet patch in my underwear. I peel them back to see a small oasis of pre-cum swirled around my glans and dripping out. I grasp my dick about half way down and squeeze, with a slight upwards movement. If history is anything to go by, this pushes out the rest, and it does. The clear sticky fluid pumps out and gathers.

Even though Jocelyn is not particularly quaking at the knees to get some coffee with me. I can't get her sultry voice and long hair out of my head. She fills my thoughts as I wank away. I think of unloading on her beautifully curved tits and that tips me over the edge. Large blobs of jizz wind their way out and slide down my now slick shaft to their new home in my pubic fur. I lay back for a short while, I squeeze out the last few drops.

I can't be bothered to clean up, more to the point I have no provisions to clean up. I pull my clothes back on and in order and ramble home.