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Approaching retirement though still very fit through cycling & running, my latest ambition was a six-pack for 60. Long summer days in the north lend themselves to peak performance. On one of my trips I was approaching a deserted picnic area outside a village with public loo still open. As I parked my bike at the side and did a couple of leg stretch exercises, I saw another racing bike round the back with no rider in sight. I went in and was surprised to see an older tall lycra clad gent pulling up his breeks round his bare arse. Apologising I went about my business as he left. There is something about the glancing look of `recognition`that clicks in the mind from previous encounters. Continuing on the cycle route I caught up with him walking his racer, and asked if there was a problem. He said no, just enjoying the warm sea breeze on his open fronted top; so I walked with him, introducing myself. Jon was in his early seventies & pretty fit at that. We got to talking about lycra wear. As my dick got bigger, I became more uncomfortable. As I became more uncomfortable, I became more aroused. My body was no longer under my control. I knew I would not win the battle to keep my arousal at bay. So, I decided my best move would be to sit. If I did, maybe I could hide my “problem.” I looked for another chair, as it was obvious she was going to sit in the one behind her. Seeing nowhere else I decided I would sit at the edge of the bed. I took a step toward the bed. “You seem to have a problem listening. I said come here… and sit down.”She didn’t move or look anywhere but directly at my eyes. My heart started beating more wildly than before. I felt like it was in my throat. My dick was at half mast and getting bigger by the second. I could feel my face flush with embarrassment. I was sure she could see what my body was doing. I swallowed hard, desperately trying to get my heart back down into its proper place. My mind was racing. I kept thinking, “She had.
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