by Frans Tooten ©
"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Sarah grumbled when the doorbell rang piercingly for the second time. Quickly she dried her legs and grabbed the half transparently negligée that she had thrown nonchalantly onto a chair next to the washstand before she had stepped into the bath. With a routine movement she slipped the almost weightless garment over her head, put her arms through the wide holes and after that she let it found its own way downwards.
"Probably those Jehovahs again", she mumbled annoyed, but her curiosity won and she walked to the door giving way to the hallway. In a flash she saw the heavy dark red bathing robe hanging and for just a second she hesitated. Pull it on or not?
"Let them drop dead", she grumbled. "I'll give those two a fit. It's already for the third time, this month. I'm fed up with it. Have them think the world is going down. With half naked women opening the front door. At eleven a.m.!"
Sarah chuckled at the thought of seeing those two surprised and then disapproving faces in front of the door when their eyes would roam over her hardly covered curves.
"Fucking hags!" Sarah softly scolded, while on naked feet she descended the stairs in a rapid cadence. Her free breasts slightly painful bounced up and down, and again she was reminded to the royal endowment with which Mother Nature had gifted her.
"I bet you two are taking a bath not even twice a year", she quickly spoke to herself, while she put her first step onto the cool tiles in the hallway and got a pleasurable shock. "What a stink those golden triangles of yours will give off. Not to speak at all about that brown crevice!"
She almost had to laugh loudly because of her own coarse language. She thought it to be delightful, sometimes, to let go herself completely. Not that she didn't know about social conventions. Maybe no one more than Sarah. Antony had a high position at a commercial company and often Sarah had to show up at all kinds of occasions as the ideal wife of a successful sales manager. She could glorify in her role, but sometimes even at those crowded eventful moments she was inclined to let her secret thoughts go free, especially when seeing a mass of those tuxedoes together, escorted by their costumes doing their utmost to look interestingly and trying to impress the others with their knowledge of the ways of the world.
But especially when being alone, most times in her own house, Sarah enjoyed speaking out loudly what most often was hidden in the deepest canyons of her own head. Like now.
Still chuckling and smiling she opened the front door with a swing and for a couple of seconds she astonished looked into the eyes of the man who was staring at her as astonished as she herself was, but then quickly, despite his confusion and shyness, looked more sharply, and in just one or two seconds recorded Sarah's measures and curves into his grey files.
Longer than at the other ones his look stayed resting at the blurring dark triangle that, like a fata morgana, twinkled through the light green negligée, just above its hem.
For a couple of times the man swallowed and then he looked up. Sarah saw that his bike, held by his left hand at the handlebar, had two big bags at both sides of the back wheel. From the open bags envelopes and packages protruded.
"The postman!" she cried excitedly, without taking any notice of the confused emotions shown by his face. "He's always ringing twice", she added grinningly.
But the joke didn't catch with this man. Maybe if she would have been wearing a costume, instead of this negligible veil. But after all Sarah didn't have a costume and if she would have had one she never would have been wearing it at home. At last the postman managed, after having cleared his throat for the third time, to speak.
"I have a parcel for you", he said with a somewhat hoarse voice. His deeply red color already diminished and with all his force he tried to produce a smile. A couple of times he breathed deeply and he gave Sarah a long and thin parcel that was accepted by her with a smile.
"A parcel?" she said with a surprised voice, but suddenly she remembered the order and quickly she shut up. Postmen often were very curious and this man already was confused more than enough. It was of no use to embarrass him more. Other people probably were waiting too for their post.
"Yes, only one", the man replied with a clear voice, in which all of a sudden insolence sounded. "If it had been two I would have kept the second one for tomorrow. It's not every day I'm welcomed that enthusiastically at the door."
"Okay, thanks", Sarah said in a neutral voice and quickly closed the door, before the man got an opportunity to display more of his coarse humor.
With fast steps Sarah walked to the kitchen, took a scissors and cut the strong tape, winded around the parcel. She spread the brown paper and saw the plastic transparent box.
Excitedly she took it out of the parcel and looked at the two long smooth shapes lying fraternally next to each other in the box. The one surely had twice the fatness of the other, but both had the same length. Pink, that was their color. Very slightly bent upwards.
Sarah opened the box and took out the two staves. At the bottom of the biggest one a long wire was hanging ending into a thin plastic grey little box. She put the accessories onto the table and for a moment looked at them thoughtfully.
"Hmm", she mumbled, "it's no use waiting for Antony to come home. After all it's meant exclusively to be mine. He surely may attend, but it is and stays mine. Even as it took him two full days to reconstruct that machine up there."
She took the two staves with their gear and walked upstairs. Next to the bathroom there was the 'gym', as Antony called that room, after he had installed fitness machines for a fortune. Machines meant especially to keep up his own shape, but the one of his wife too, of whom he thought she got too less breath at thirty-five, so her nightly efforts took much more energy than five years ago.
Though Antony every day threw himself with the same enthusiasm onto his machines Sarah was bored by them quickly and she couldn't force herself more than twice a week to get on the hometrainer and cycle for about two miles. Antony more than once had sarcastic remarks about it, but those left her stone cold. After all she thought it to be a ridiculous sight to have to sit on that bike and pedal like a madman, without gaining a yard. Furthermore Antony had attached at the three walls man-sized mirrors, something that was even more smarting to Sarah, as the ridiculous situation came from three sides towards her. She already had turned the hometrainer, so he pointed to the wall with the door in it, but from the corners of her eyes her delicious swaying backside, sank over the narrow saddle, kept on staring at her and reproaching her that there had to be more in the world than a cold chilly bike moving not an inch.
Until Antony one day, not long ago, locked himself up into the 'gym', laden with boxes and tools, warning her not to put one step into it, threatening her with a thorough long spanking that would necessitate her to sleep for at least one week on her belly.
Sarah didn't understand a bit of it and how much she pressed, Antony didn't say a word and just mumbled: "You wait and see."
On the third day at night he asked her to come up and he kept the 'gyms' door wide open to her and like a cavalier of old he flamboyantly invited her to enter.
In astonishment Sarah looked all around her and couldn't find a thing explaining Antony's efforts of the last two days.
"Look better", he said encouragingly.
Slowly Sarah walked through the room, between the machines and at last stopped in front of the hometrainer. Yes, there it was. Something had been changed. The thing had gotten another saddle. Not the narrow one of before, but a wide round saddle, almost like the one of a motorbike. Only, this saddle had a big opening at the middle and at the end.
"Sit down for a moment", Antony said.
Obediently Sarah sat down onto the strange saddle and felt how her buttocks sank down luxuriously into the saddle, covered with soft leather.
"And now slide backwards a bit", her husband ordered, while he bent his knees a bit, then his head, in order to be able to look beneath the saddle.
Sarah obliged and felt how her buttocks spread.
"What's the meaning of all this?" she asked wonderingly. "Do you perhaps want to have a tandem at only one saddle. That will be a difficult trick, my boy."
For a moment Antony laughed and then said: Look down, alongside your right leg."
Sarah looked and only then she saw a cogwheel attached to the crank axle. Over the cogwheel e thin chain was running straight upward and right beneath the saddle she saw a flat thin round disc, behind which the chain disappeared. At the outside of the disc clips were attached, but the meaning of it all wasn't clear to Sarah.
That she told Antony, but he smiled and compassionately he shook his head.
"This machine had been bought especially for you", he said in a theatrical voice. "But you are too lazy and you keep on telling not to understand what it can do for you. That's why I started all this and what's more, a couple of days ago I've ordered something at a special company. Tomorrow or the day after it will be delivered and then you at once will know how to use it. Those clips at the disc aren't attached for nothing. I promise you a pleasurable ride and I suspect from then on you won't complain that this thing doesn't move an inch. But when it's delivered, wait till I'm home. I don't want to miss one second of that spectacle."
"Well, the inauguration you will miss, my dear Tony", Sarah mumbled, while she walked into the 'gym'' carrying the accessories and at once sat down onto her knees in front of the hometrainer.
Like it was everyday work to her Sarah attached the biggest stave in a practiced way beneath one of the clips to the disc beneath the saddle. The second one she put down next to the machine. She felt a vibration running over her body.
"Let's see if this one will ride all of the 'Tour de Chance'", she chuckled and with a wide swing of her left leg she sat down onto the big saddle. The clip at the round disc was at its lowest and with a light shiver Sarah felt the round fleshly colored head of the stave slide the inner side of her buttocks. Actually 'shaving', because the material was dry and a bit rough.
Sarah moved a bit more to the back, felt the head shave against her outer lips of lust and started to make light rotating movements with her buttocks. A shiver ran all over her and she felt the lips burning lightly at every touch. The first juices started to moisten the inner sides of the lips.
Carefully she felt with her toes for the pedals, pressed herself a bit deeper into the saddle and then, very carefully, she gave the pedal, standing at its highest, a light pat.
"Aah!" it escaped her mouth when she felt the stave turning upwards just a bit and felt how it started to scout, with some difficulty working itself through the bushes, the entrance of her magical cave. "Ooh, Antony, what a devilish mind you have", she said, breathing a bit more strongly.
Again she gave the pedal a little pat. "The scout already has entered", she mumbled. "Now it's time for the main body."
Three minutes later the pedals were whirring at a quiet pace and the encouragements reverberated against the mirrored walls. The 'Tour de Chance' had started and the first hill had been taken effortlessly.
Only when the Pyrenees loomed Sarah took a pause in order to find new energy for this 'tour de force'.
When she at last again sat down onto her robust saddle the two staves were firmly attached to the clips of the disc and Sarah's buttocks were shining because of the cream she had so profusely smeared between them. "Allez, mon biqueueclette!" she enthusiastically cried, while she cast eager looks at the mirrors and put her toes firmly onto the pedals. "Lourdes, j'arrivera!" she then cried laughingly, while in her mind giving the starting shot.
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