Romance writer Chloe Thurlow

Literary romance

Girls on Bicycles Smile as They Remember Their First Orgasm

Girls on bicycles present a picture of both unsullied innocence and deep sexuality.

I remember when I was young watching other girls on bicycles and admiring the way their bottoms shifted and danced as they moved up and down, up and down. Did I look the same: stylish and chic, wild and a little wanton?image shows girls on bicycles

My first sexual experience wasn’t with the gardener, as Mother always suspected, but with the tip of the triangular-shaped seat rubbing rhythmically against my groin and sending sensations I didn’t know existed up through my developing body. There is no feeling in the world better than building up speed on your bike, then rolling down hill with your legs spread out and your cleft on the monorail of a hot leather saddle.

It is not an urban myth that men surreptitiously sniff the seats of girls’ bicycles. The boiler man at school spent hours in the bike sheds leaning over the saddles when he thought no one was looking.

Girls walking down the street often attract whistles, hissing, lewd comments, the occasional grope. One man actually slapped my ass once as I passed. Girls on bicycles gliding by with their skirts billowing like sails on a windy day don’t hear the comments and are going too fast for itinerant hands to reach out and touch them.

Are their knickers showing as they ride by? Of course they are. That’s half the fun. Girls on bicycles wear flared skirts to reveal cheeky peeks of all that is normally hidden. We are the daughters of Eve with temptation in our genes. Girls like being naked. Get over it!

Girls on Bicycles Time Machine

Girls and cars form a bond that is macho dominated, as if the automobile is holy object demanding that we go down on our knees to anoint with our little pink tongues. Some girls I know, not mentioning any names, have an instant urge to reach for fly buttons and give head the moment they hear a car engine roar.girls on bicycles with knickers

It’s not the whiff of gasoline that drives girls on bicycles, but the free clean air of the open road. They are not controlled by the machine. They control the machine. It runs through the power of their strong calf and thigh muscles. A bicycle without a rider is a useless heap of rubber and metal. With the rider, it its a two-wheeled gypsy queen from planet Lust, the ninth star in the Erotic Galaxy.

The bicycle is a time machine. It takes you back to who you were. When one sense is diminished, the others burn more brightly. In a blindfold, you feel every minute motion of your lover’s hand as it crosses your body. Girls on bicycles feel a tension in their thighs and remember their first orgasm. That’s why girls on bicycles are always smiling.

girls on bicycles are a sexy work of art in progress

KATIE IN LOVE ON OFFER AT AMAZON

“I am never disappointed when I read a Chloe Thurlow book. More than the story for me, it is the way Thurlow links sentences and words and images together that astound me. She creates vignettes and scenes that are literally alive with literary genius. I mean this sincerely. I find her to be one of the best contemporary writers of our day. And a champion for the sexual freedom of women at its best and most gritty.” R.B. O’Brien, Amazon

 

 

17 Discussions on
“Girls on Bicycles Smile as They Remember Their First Orgasm”
  • Beautifully written Chloe, and, as a keen cyclist myself I found it very illuminating! Slightly worrying, though, that none of your girls in the photos are wearing safety helmets.
    If they come off (the bicycle) when they are temporarily out of control, then they could damage themselves quite seriously, perhaps you could warn them……

    I understand that a gentle ride on a horse may also have the same exciting effect, a little worrying should a passing car make the horse bolt and gallop near the crucial moment.

    I remember reading, a long time ago, a historical description written by a woman working with many others in a factory making clothes with Singer treadle sewing machines, and how occasionaly one of them would start treadling faster and faster, and then stop with a sigh.

    http://www.spiritualchanneling.co.uk/

  • I was jealous when my brother was given a bike, and I wasn’t. But he was kind and let me borrow it once or twice. Unfortunately I parked it outside a shop and someone stole it. He forgave me! I did remember feeling quite sexy, cycling into town as a teenager, on a drop handlebar, racing bike, skirt billowing. A bit more difficult getting off a men’s bike wearing a skirt though!
    I also have an old Singer treadle sewing machine in the attic. I don’t remember getting the same thrills as Paul describes, though. I must get it out and do a bit more sewing.

  • Beautifully written as usual Chloe, and very evocative of my earlier experiences as a young hitch-hiker around Europe many years ago. In Germany and Holland I’d sit by the side of roads waiting for a lift to the next town. Girls would ride past on bikes, give me big smiles and flash past, skirts ahoy, knickers on show, leaving me lusting after them. Pure teasing of course, but I’ve always loved that teasing aspect with women. Flirtation is the eternal lubricant that keeps male/female relations on a healthy basis.
    Keep writing, all the best,
    FJ

    • Father Jon, I had a feeling when I was writing about my cycling experiences that they would appeal to you. Elsewhere I have mentioned cycling on cobbles, but I thought it worth mentioning again.

  • I have (finally) learned to ride a bike at 51 and whenever I press myself against that seat it makes me feel like 15. I fly!
    You are so right when saying that the bicycle is a time machine. It is also a ‘flying’ machine, for my mind at least.
    Now I’m going back to my Singer sewing machine to finish those jeans that I’ve cut last week, to turn them into homemade miniskirts. When summer comes, maybe I’ll dare myself knickers free. Who knows? :)

  • I’ve always had an erotic fascination for the girl on the saddle rather than the saddle itself, the anticipation of a flashed thigh or more, but then gone in an instant leaving an unfulfilled ache.

  • As a cyclist who works at a very well know and respected bike shop… this is a masterpiece. I LOVE IT!
    We don’t just ride for the exercise, we ride because it feels good in so many ways.

  • I have not used my bike for a long time and have decided to pump up the tyres and take it for a spin in the park. Thank you for the inspiration.

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