The apoplectic man scrambled up beside Monty on the Sociable.
Swerving from side to side they tore off down the road, their legs pumping in unison. Monty was desperately trying to steer a straight course while the man waved his fists in the air. 'Filth and depravity!' came the repeated cry as they left us, 'Filth and depravity!' We were left stunned into silence. The only sound was of Cecily, gasping for air and slumped forward on her seat. I looked round. 'We had better follow them,' I said. 'That is our direction in any case.' 'But Gwendolen is without a mount,' said Perdita. Possibly we can accommodate her on our machine if we are careful.' I could think of no other solution unless one of the men were to give up his place and walk behind. 'We'll try it,' I said. 'But who is to sit on whose lap?' 'I shall sit on Ian and Gwendolen can take my place,' said Perdita. 'I hope I will not be too great a burden on you,' she said to Ian. She left her seat and lowered herself carefully on to Ian. 'I don't feel very safe,' she said.
'I hope I do not fall off. What should I hold on to?' 'I have an idea,' said Ian, lifting his kilt. Once again the practical advantages of Highland dress were revealed. His uncovered member lifted up.
'Of course! What a good idea,' said Perdita and, in turn,. she lifted her skirt. Inch by inch, she wriggled her way backwards until she was safely impaled on his prick. 'Gwendolen, you must hold my hand. Can you pedal in this position, Ian?' she asked, settling herself firmly. Ian gave a tentative turn or two on the pedals and his prick began to ride up and down with the motion. Perdita gave a little squeal of pleasure at each rotation. 'Now I understand why it is called a Sociable,' said Becky with interest. 'We will escort you, one to either side, in case some mishap befalls you.'
Hannah took up her position on the other flank and slowly we all set off. 'Not too fast,' said Perdita, 'or we will become unstable.' Of course the sight of such wheeled motion had an effect on the other members of the party. Round and round went Ian's legs. Up and down went his sturdy prick. Gwendolen reached across and placed a restraining hand on Perdita's lovely black-haired pussey.
'Whatever you do, Ian,' said Donald, with Hibernian practicality, 'Don't come, or Perdita will lose her support.' Ian gritted his teeth and peering over Perdita's shoulder, concentrated on steering a straight course. 'I'm getting too slippery!' said Perdita.
'Hold on tight,' said Becky. 'Use your muscles.' 'I've never been very good at that,' said Perdita. 'I just go all helpless.'
'Think of something else,' I suggested. 'What?' she asked with a note of desperation creeping into her voice. 'The Queen?'
I said. 'I saw her once,' said Perdita. 'Outside Windsor Castle.
She was all in black.' 'Do you not think that the period of Royal mourning has continued too long?' I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. 'Slow down!' said Perdita. 'What were you doing in Windsor?' asked Becky. 'I was lost,' said Perdita.
'Again?' I interjected. 'I was supposed to be in Eton. My brother was appearing in his House play.' 'What was it?' I asked.
'I don't know,' she wailed. 'It's no good. This isn't working. I remember what happened later. I had a fuck in Windsor Great Park. That was why I missed the play. Oh dear, I think I'm coming.' 'You'd better stop,' Becky said to Ian. 'Perdita get off for a moment and collect yourself.' 'No, I'll be all right if we just rest for a moment.' She sat there breathing deeply, her Head bowed. Ian held her round the waist. We all waited. I looked round. Mine was not the only aroused member. Tell-tale bulges rose on all sides. Becky was sliding backwards and forwards on her saddle. 'We must all practise self-control,' said Hannah, 'like the Indian fakirs.'
'You're sure you don't want to dismount and have a rest?' said Becky. 'No, my legs have gone all weak. I'm not sure I could even stand up.' 'We could change places,' said Gwendolen. 'That is unless either of you has an objection.' 'I suppose we'd better,' said Perdita. 'Just as long as Ian and I can finish what we've started when we get to the picnic site.' 'I shall just carry on considering the problems of the crafting community back home,' said Ian. They took up their new positions. Perdita settled down in the adjacent seat. Gwendolen slipped onto Ian's prick as to the manner born. We set off again. Ian stayed rigid but under careful control. He pedalled on. Soon afterwards Catherine and Jack who had gone ahead, appeared riding back towards us. 'We've found Monty,' Jack said. 'He's by the roadside about half a mile ahead with the Sociable.
They caught up with the runaway dog cart. The fat gentleman has been loaded aboard. He's quite exhausted. His wife is driving him home. I advised a cold compress and a good rest. Actually I suspect that two cold compresses will be needed. He had become visibly over-excited, but I leave that for his wife to sort out.' 'No sign of Rosie?' I asked. 'A trail of devastation,' said Catherine. 'Two more of the local population have driven off the road and there is an extremely animated group of people at the next crossroads. I suspect the incident will be a staple of conversation in the vicinity for quite some time. The sudden appearance of the naked bicyclist will be raised at many a dinner party.' 'There is a more immediate problem,' I pointed out. 'If the road ahead is lined with outraged and overturned locals, we can hardly pedal past them with Gwendolen still impaled on Ian's mighty member.' 'That would indeed be the final straw,' said Cecily. 'I hardly think straw is the right word in Ian's case,' said Jack. 'Rod, pole or, especially in the present circumstances, perch, would seem appropriate.' 'None the less, the problem remains,' I said. 'Just when we were so happily embedded,' said Ian sadly. 'However I accept that we must dismount.'
'We could go behind the hedge,' said Gwendolen, 'and complete the exercise. But Perdita, you must come as well.' 'And in the meantime,' suggested Donald, 'One of us could ride ahead and bring Monty back with the other Sociable.' All agreed that this was the most satisfactory solution to our problem. Gwendolen slipped off Ian's safe anchorage and reached out her hand to Perdita. 'Come, Perdita,' she said, 'we shall have to take him in turns. Would you rather be fucked first or second?' 'I shall come with you to keep guard,' said Cecily. 'And watch,' said Gwendolen. 'I know you too well to think that you will be content with merely standing as a lookout at the gate.' 'That may indeed be true,' said Cecily.
'Already my bodice feels uncomfortably full.' 'But delightfully so,' I said. 'Thank you Andrew, you are most complementary. Would you like to help release me from my bondage?' I realised that our organisation was in danger of falling into disarray and that a lot of to-ing and fro-ing was necessary if we were not to be very late at the picnic place. Also we had to find the missing Rosie, our pedalling nymph. Yet the prospect of once again seeing Cecily's gloriously plump breasts spilling out of her clothing was most alluring. In fact she made up my mind by coming up to me with her hands cupped under her swelling bosom. 'It would be the work of an instant, Andrew, and there are but six small buttons to be undone,' she said. 'I will go ahead as we had decided,' said Donald, and set things in motion.
The Sociable can be steered, although not easily, with only one aboard. If Monty finds that he cannot control it, I have some experience in such things. He can ride my Safety back.' Gallantly he set off. The rest of the party would have to remain on the road with the assorted cycles. 'Quick,' said Cecily. 'I can see that duty demands that you remain with the roadside party, but unbutton me before I go behind the hedge to chaperone the others.' Perdita, Gwendolen and Ian had already disappeared behind the hedge and were safely out of sight. However, a sudden gasp of pleasure and a quiet Gaelic cry of satisfaction suggested that they had already set about their business. Distracted by the sounds and what they signified, I had turned away from Cecily. 'Andrew,' she said, approaching me from the rear and rubbing her still clothed titties tantalisingly against me, 'Pay attention to me or I shall have to seek help elsewhere.' I let her breasts loose. Truly they were magnificent. The creamy fullness of them came tumbling out of her dress. I stood back for a moment to drink in the sight. 'Cecily, they are lovely,' I said simply. 'Just rub them for a moment,' she said sweetly. She guided my hands so that I took their succulent weight in my hands. Her hands clasped mine as I began gently to fondle them. Untouched, her twin nipples rose in excitement like two sap-filled buds. 'We must not get too carried away,' she said with a provoking note of regret in her voice. 'I have to go and take up my post and keep watch.' I became aware that from beyond the hedge, cries of feminine delight were rising up. Either Gwendolen or Perdita, for I did not have sufficient experience yet of either to be able to distinguish between their cries of coming, was being most comprehensively fucked and was enjoying every minute of it.
Reluctantly I released my twin burdens. Cecily leant forward to kiss me sweetly. 'I promise that they will be yours again once we get to the picnic. We have a large jug of clotted cream among the food that cook packed. It was intended to accompany the strawberries, but I am sure that some can be spared. I love having cream sucked off my nipples.' I looked at her. Indeed, her engorged nipples were the size of strawberries, and equally as juicy to the eye. Mr. Pego thrust uncomfortably forward at the sight and the suggestion. 'Sorry,' said Cecily, realising that her generous promise had made my present position worse rather than better. 'I must go, but we both have
