A gay sex story: Geoff and Chet Ch. 22 Chapter 22 Austin Race and a National Record
Author’s note: As previously noted, the cycling rules have been significantly adapted by the author to reflect the story line. Like the story, the rules (and the race schedule and the SCC) are figments of my imagination. Don’t bother with search engines. It really is fiction. Copyright 2023, all rights reserved. All individuals portrayed in sexual acts are over 18. BD
To readers: sorry for the errors in publication for which I take full responsibility. The entire story consists of 28 chapters—including the 00 Prologue, all written at this time. The duplicate Ch 14 was a mistake—it should have been a “review” of part 1 for new readers starting in part 2, but had been mislabeled in Word, so I attached the wrong Ch 14 to my submission. Ch 15 is ok. I will publish the real Ch 14 as Ch 28 at the end. Ch 19 was published May 15 in “Anal.” Obviously, I am not the most comfortable with on line publishing. BD
Chet’s POV
Soon it was Friday afternoon and we were headed to Austin, hopefully avoiding Houston’s notorious traffic. Rice had agreed to the Amazon proposal and so we had a nice large interstate bus for the team and support staff and two vans carrying our gear—both of the vans sporting banners proclaiming that the Rice Cycling Club was “proudly” supported by Amazon. We arrived for a late dinner, staying at the Marriott University Place for the night. I noted that Reg and Pete did not sit together on the bus—although there was sufficient room that most of us had two seats—to stretch out and nap. I had asked Pete if he wanted to room with Reg, but Pete said, “No. Let’s do this by lottery.” I was tired and, knowing that I was going to desert the team after the meet on Saturday, I decided not to go out, but stayed at the team’s common room after dinner to joke with and encourage the team.
The Austin meet was one of the most critical of the circuit. It was hosted by UT-Austin’s team, but Dallas had made the short drive down and the Loyola-New Orleans team had flown in. All four of these teams (including RCC of course) were considered in the first rank in our conference—any one could end up season champion. (The fifth top team, UMiami was not there.) As permitted under conference rules and typical, the host had decided for a free for all race—no separate heats—all 32 cyclists would start at the gun. This was also the hilliest course we would encounter, a real challenge for leg stamina and strategy-over-raw-speed.
We gathered on a green at the UT campus early the next morning. Several hundred team members, mechanical support and fans were there. All four teams had tents—ours being remarkable for its foot-wide alternating stripes of gold and black. UT was red; Dallas was pale blue; Loyola was a harlequin of green and purple—with poles bedecked in Mardi Gras plastic beads. I had the impression we were in medieval times with knights about to joust. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad image, particularly given our bright cycling uniforms. We drew lots for team position and we had second choice—choosing one of the two end slots. All eight of our riders would group together. Pete, Reg and I would be in the center of the group. The “wings” were instructed to go as wide as the rules allowed to give us space to move individually, not as a group; we were going to go for an early lead.
The excitement was palpable as the starting time approached. Texas Patrol Cars would lead and follow the group and advance cars would close off crossing streets and roads. The course was short—about 96 miles, but the elevation changes and difficult turns would more than make up for the length. This race obviously rated high in the local pantheon of athletics and had been well-publicized: there were spectators throughout the route.
The day was overcast and cool—a perfect day for cycling. No rain was projected. Just before the gun, I looked over and spotted Geoff, his parents, Matt, and Rebecca. They waived and Geoff raised a V sign in encouragement. Standing near them was Joe Gallagher—this was almost home turf for him—he had won the national championship twice on this course. He too scanned the team and lifted both arms in a giant V. Of course, our groupies were there and Nicole seemed to have resumed the place on her throne as queen.
I noticed that an EMT team was stationed with one of the trailing trooper vans. They were obviously going to follow the pack. Geoff spotted a friend from his emergency room summer, a good looking Nordic hunk. They exchanged smiles and waves which seemed a bit more than casual. I wonder if he was the one before me? But I was quickly occupied with my mental prep for the start to start comparing.
The race started promptly to a loud gun and the cheers of the crowd. We had decided on a strategy of very fast sprint off the start to take a lead early in this crowded field. Then we would ease off, defend our position, and do what was required at the end. The strategy worked. Reg was leading all the cyclists before we reached the first half mile and the edge of the campus. Chet and I were close behind—allowing Reg to take the brunt of the point at the early part of the race. He maintained a terrific pace. Pockets of spectators were all along the course which circled out into the Austin hills, went down by the large lake, and began a long mostly uphill trek back. After the open sprint and regroup, RCC led throughout the first half of the race without serious challenge. Then each of the other teams began to test our speed strategy. First Dallas approached. Reg picked up the speed and we all followed. Dallas was soon overtaken by the New Orleans team—the most vocal and threatening—if their language was to be believed. And finally the home team began to gain on us. Reg yielded point to Chet who picked up the speed by 2-3%. I wasn’t winded and felt really good about the pace and my ability to sprint at the end. Three times UT tried to break the lead, but fell back each time.
Finally, we hit the sprint point. Chet moved left and Reg rode to the right as I moved into point and rode to a blistering speed. I was surprised that despite their hard jobs as points, Chet and Reg kept up with me, barely a cycle length behind. The campus border approached and the crowds had enlarged and began to cheer. They were loud, mostly cheering on the Longhorns. I crossed the ribbon only a split second before Chet and Reg to the hoots of our small contingent. Soon it was announced that I—and RCC—had set new speed records for our conference. We were definitely moving toward the season championship.
Tapes were run and times were re-checked, and all three RCC cyclists approached the podium for the presentation of awards. Chet and Reg threw their arms around my shoulders as I lifted the team trophy for photographers. Then, in a curious, but I think unnoticed gesture, both guys tapped me lightly on my butt.
I went over to where the Peters were standing together with Becca. I noticed that Reg went to embrace Joe, and that Chet’s family had driven in from Ft. Worth. Everybody was gushing with praise. Matt grabbed the trophy, a large bronze pylon with a cyclist posing on top with his bike, and raised it high about us. Becca embraced me, “We all knew you could do this. We are so pleased and proud.”