The Long Ride Home by WolfyLikes
It hadn’t been the best start to the week, and certainly one I’d never look back on fondly.
I came out of work and found my car damaged. Someone had very kindly driven into it, pieces of the front wings and bonnet lying smashed on the floor around it, broken headlights were strewn amongst them. While I surveyed the scene and phoned a local garage to arrange a pick-up, my boss had been back inside and returned. He shook his head, a sad look on his face. It had been a blue car, but the number plates couldn’t be made out. The large car park having public access, it could have been anyone driving. I was going to have to pay out for the repairs.
Getting home late that evening, I sat with the TV on, not paying much attention to it. I was too angry to concentrate. I was contemplating getting to work for the rest of the week while the repairs were being done. I could use public transport but there wasn’t a direct route. Travel time would be around ninety minutes both ways. Taxis would cost me around £100 for the week, money that could be used for the repair costs.
It had been a very warm few days, and I remembered I had an old mountain bike in my garden shed. With the last little bit of daylight, I went and fetched it out. Tyres would need pumping up, but it looked rideable. I also knew there was a place inside the work building where it would be safe to be left. I made up my mind, I’d cycle to work. Save money, and enjoy the sun on me. The journey would be reasonably flat too, with no large steep hills to have to endure for forty-five-year-old me.
Thirty minutes it took me to make the journey the next morning. I hadn’t needed to use too much effort, but had taken my work uniform in a backpack and had ridden in shorts and a spare t-shirt. There was a little more traffic on the way back, and midway through the return, I had to cross a very busy main road, by a large traffic island with lots of exits. To make it easier for myself, I decided to use the cycle path and go over the crossing.
Approaching the crossing I could see two girls on bicycles already waiting to cross. They were lightly pushing each other while laughing loudly. There was a redhead wearing jeans and a long-sleeved top, and a brunette with a very nice pert arse encased in a pair of lycra shorts with a loose-fitting t-shirt over the top. Just as I got to them, the redhead dodged between cars to cross over the three lanes. She stopped in the middle of the crossing, between the two carriageways, and despite the heavy traffic, her laughter rang out.
“Katie, you could have been killed stupid!” shouted out the brunette next to me.
I pressed the button on the traffic lights, waiting for it to turn the lights to red so we could cross.
“It’s not working mister,” the brunette said a little stroppily.
She turned to look at me, her face turning into a smile.
“Oh hi, erm, I bet it works for you,” she said sheepishly.
“You haven’t even tried the button Stacey you liar!” shouted Katie.
Stacey looked at me again, “Shut up Katie!” she shouted at her friend.
“Trying to flirt with the man and he’s laughing at you,” Katie giggled.
I was indeed laughing. If they weren’t intending to be funny, it had made me laugh anyway.
“Are you laughing at me?” Stacey asked.
“No, I’m laughing at your friend,” I said, my voice raising louder, “who goes riding around in this weather in jeans and a long-sleeved top?”
We finally managed to navigate the crossing, the two girls going over first. Getting to the other side, they both turned their bikes towards me as I rode across the road. Stopping, only then did I notice that Katie’s top was wet with sweat, the front stuck to her excellent sized breasts as she leaned forward on her handlebars.
“Thanks for helping an old man across the road,” I told them, laughing.
I rode off slowly, hearing the girls shout out their goodbyes. I waved a hand without looking back. I just about heard one of them say how fit I was. I assumed they were talking about me riding a bicycle at my age.
My car was going to take longer to repair than I’d expected, a couple of parts needing ordering in. The garage owner tried to help out by telling me he’d charge me as close to his cost price as he could, it helped a little but I still felt a little useless without my car.
Riding home that night I perked up when I saw a couple of girls waiting by the crossing again. Katie saw me approaching and waved, the two girls having huge smiles on their faces. Getting closer, I realised I hadn’t taken too much notice of them the night before. Both were naturally pretty and wore not much make-up. I stopped by them both and noticed both had blue eyes. Stacey’s were a darker blue, that matched her dark hair. Katie’s were very pale ice-like, matching her porcelain pale skin. She had a few smattering of freckles across her nose and under her eyes that seemed to show them off as a frame.
“We haven’t pressed the button yet, we were waiting for you,” I heard Stacey say.
“How did you know I’d be here?” I asked.
“We hoped you would be, Katie wouldn’t stop talking about how you were looking at her tits in her wet top last night,” Stacey answered.
She started giggling even while Katie playfully punched her arm.
I looked straight at Katie’s tits instinctively. She wore shorts and a t-shirt now, so they weren’t so obvious. I looked up and caught her eyes, she’d seen me looking.
“Do you have a wife or girlfriend mister?” Stacey asked.
“Not any more, I got divorced two years ago,” I answered.
Do you fancy us then mister?” Stacey asked.
“Erm, you’re both very pretty,” I answered as casually as I could sound, “and call me Danny, mister sounds too formal.”
“Do you want to see Katie’s tits?” Stacey blurted out.
“I bet he wants to see your arse Stacey,” Katie replied.
I didn’t know how to answer. I wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t winding me up. Suddenly Katie held her hand out, and I took the two items from her.
“What are these?” I asked, even though I recognised them.
“Our passports, nobody ever believes we’re eighteen so we carry them everywhere, we’re always being asked for ID,” Stacey replied.
I opened and read the documents. The pictures were fairly recent, there was no doubt they were their passports. Not only were they eighteen, but both girls were also just a month short of their nineteenth birthdays.
“So, do you want to see Katie’s tits or not?” Stacey asked again.
The two girls started giggling, I still didn’t know if they were joking or not. I decided to call their bluff.
“Yeah, why not,” I answered.
They stopped giggling long enough to high five each other.
“Follow us then,” Stacey said.
We made our way across the crossing, then turned right along the cycle path, the opposite way from my house. A few minutes later the girls took a pathway down to a canal towpath. They cycled a short distance to a small clearing with a bench.
“We can’t go to ours, both sets of our parents are in. This will do though,” Katie said.
She very quickly pulled up her t-shirt, pulling her bra up with it, two very large breasts with large pink nipples dropped out. My mouth opened a little in shock, both at the speed of her unleashing them and the actual size.