A Cycling Odyssey Ch. 02

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This story – the second chapter of a number I plan to write – is about a man’s bicycle trip across Denmark. The locations exist but the characters are fictional. The first chapter was based in Copenhagen. I suggest you start with that chapter, though each does stand on its own and could be read separately.

Most of this chapter takes place near the northern tip of Denmark along the North Sea coast and is inspired by a nude painting – The Bather by the Danish artist Laurits Tuxen. Watch out for the brief time shift near the beginning!

I’d like to thank Gorza and VMKC for editing my story. I learned a lot from their feedback. Their input significantly improved the final product. Nevertheless, I’m ultimately responsible for what follows.

I enjoy receiving feedback about my stories. So I’d love to hear from you!


I dismounted and walked my bike into the central Copenhagen train station. The sounds of people, pigeons and announcements echoed in the large hall. Looking up at a monitor, I saw that I had an hour and a bit before my train left.

I bought a small black coffee and sat down at a heavy wrought iron table. I was looking forward to savouring the taste of a good European blend while doing some people watching — a favourite past time of mine. I suddenly remembered that I had intended to call my wife, Dana. She had arrived in Denmark a week before and was staying with a girlfriend in Jutland — a peninsula in Denmark that extends northward from Germany along the North Sea coast.

I took another sip of my coffee and reached for my cell phone. As I called up Dana’s number, I realized that I needed to say something about my experience with Inga yesterday. It was only right. But how would Dana take it, I wondered? Maybe it was something best talked about face to face?

I laid my phone back down on the table and started to think about what I would say. Memories of our happy marriage of more than 30 years flashed through my mind. The kids were now grown and busy raising their own families. I chuckled at the thought. Dana and I had always found time to be together as a couple and our love for one another had grown even stronger. I was unaware of the smile that had broken out on my face.

We had been pretty traditional at first with our lovemaking – limited to only a few sexual positions in our own bedroom. Gradually, we had become more adventurous. We enjoyed weekend excursions to large cities when our parents were available to babysit. Anonymity allowed Dana to dress in ways she wouldn’t feel comfortable doing in our small home town out of fear that we’d meet someone we knew. We found hotel rooms, without kids, were particularly exciting and that we often needed a late checkout.

We always talked openly about our fantasies and what turned us on. We often sought safe ways to experience some of them – at an appropriate time and place. We had learned that by being open with one another, and willing to experiment, we could enjoy sex in ways we never had imagined when we first were married. If others knew about our adventures, they would be shocked. What a lucky guy I am, I thought!

There were tense moments though as we wrestled with the way we had been raised and social norms. The time Dana admitted to having sex with Peter was one of those moments. It was indelibly burned in my mind.


“Paul, I have something to tell you,” Dana said as I arrived home from work one day early in our marriage before we had children. “I met Peter downtown today.”

“Oh, how’s he doing?” I asked.

“Fine,” Dana said. “We had lunch together and…”.

I waited for Dana to finish as I took off my jacket and removed my tie. “And what?” I asked wanting her to know that I was still listening.

“Well, we went back to his place,” Dana continued adding quickly “He wanted to show me his new apartment.”

“Oh, what’s it like?”


Dana didn’t sound her normal bubbly self. I turned around and found her with a worried look on her face.

“Paul, I had sex with Peter,” she blurted out with a pained look on her face.

Her words were a punch to my chest. I was paralyzed…speechless. All kinds of angry thoughts flooded my mind. “Pardon me?” was all I could muster.

“One thing led to another and we had sex. Oh, Paul, we just got carried away…caught up in a moment.” Dana started to move toward me with her arms open wide. I stepped back.

“You had sex with Peter?” I repeated dumbfounded in a raised voice.

“Yes, but it means nothing.” Dana reached out for me.

I pushed her arms away. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“We just got carried away. It means nothing Paul. I love you, not Peter!”

“Well, that’s one hell of a way to show your love for me!” I said bitterly turning my back on her.

Dana tried to turn me around but I shook her arms off my shoulders and headed for the door. I slammed the door of our apartment behind me and walked out into the hallway afraid of what I might do or say if I were to remain in the same room.

I walked our neighbourhood bahis firmaları for hours with all kinds of images running through my head: of Peter kissing Dana, fondling her breasts and fucking her. How could he? She was mine! How could she let him fuck her?

I knew men were attracted to Dana. In fact, I was quite proud of it. She was blonde and curvaceous, stood 5 foot 6 with beautiful firm breasts — 34 Es — a lovely complexion and smile. We often talked about how men looked at her, especially when we were away in the big city on weekends and she wore those tight fitting dresses with plunging necklines. In fact, I would deliberately walk behind her on the street so that I could watch men — and women — turn their heads as she walked by them. She was my trophy and I loved showing her off. It excited us both that others lusted after her. We went so far as to talk about how exciting a threesome or being with another couple might be.

I wondered what Peter was now thinking after having bedded my wife. Was he laughing at me behind my back? Was he bragging to others? The longer I walked, though, the more I thought of the pain in Dana’s face when she told me about what had happened. She seemed genuine when she said she loved me. I started to wonder who am I to deny Dana what she wants. And what about all those fantasies we talked about? Were we playing with fire? Was I being hypocritical? Would I have acted any differently in the same situation?

I was less angry but terribly confused when I came back in the door later that evening. Dana was sitting on the couch. She had been crying. She rose. “Oh Paul, I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I just didn’t want to hide it from you. That wouldn’t be right.”

“I understand Dana, but it still hurts,” I replied matter of fact.

She stepped closer, placed her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “You have to believe me. I love only you Paul.”

I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. I returned to the living room and sat down at the other end of the couch where she was sitting. I took a deep breath, leaned forward with my hands clenched on my knees and asked “So, what exactly happened?”

Dana’s eyes opened wide. She exhaled. “We met on the street. I had put on my new summer dress — no bra – and decided to go downtown.”

She looked up in the air and shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe it was the men looking at me, the hot muggy day…I was just…excited when I met Peter. He invited me for lunch. We had a couple of glasses of wine and he invited me back to his apartment. I should have known better.”

Dana took a deep breath and paused as though she wanted me to say something. I remained silent wanting her to continue.

She took another deep breath. “On the way back to the apartment, we were pushed up tight against one another on the subway. The elevator in his building was packed too. When we got to his apartment, we just pounced on one another. It was over in less than five minutes…and I left.”

There was silence. “Did he fuck you?” I asked.

“Yes,” Dana said adding quickly “But I didn’t feel good about it afterwards. And I certainly don’t feel good about it now.” Dana looked down.

“Did you enjoy it then?”

Dana looked up and paused. “I have to be honest. Yes! But you have to understand. We were both caught up in the moment. It was exciting having lunch on the patio amongst men dressed in business suits looking at me. I caught him looking at my cleavage several times. Rubbing against him on the subway and in the elevator took me over the edge, I think.”

Sensing I was prepared to listen and wrestling with my own feelings, Dana continued. “As soon as we came in the door to his apartment, he faced me and slid the strap of my dress over my shoulder. The straps were so loose on my dress that when my body shuddered, the strap slid off my other shoulder. My dress simply fell to the floor. It happened so quickly. It caught us both by surprise. I found myself totally nude in front of him. We were both speechless. He reached out with his hand and led me to his bedroom where he laid me down on his bed. He undressed in front of me. I was so excited that I pulled him down on top of me and put him inside me.”

Dana was fighting back tears. I reached out for her and hugged her tight. “Dana, I don’t want to lose you!” I started crying.

“You won’t Paul! I love you so much! We…I just got carried away. I’m so sorry.” Dana started sobbing.

We held each other tight for several minutes. Then, suddenly, I had an irresistible urge to make love to her. I took her hand and led her to our bedroom. I stood her at the end of the bed facing me and slowly began to unbutton her dress. I pushed the short sleeves back off her shoulders baring her breasts. She remained frozen with her arms dangling at her sides. I reached inside her dress and wrapped my arms around her waist pulling her tight up against me. We kissed passionately.

Then, I forcefully tugged downward on her dress. It pooled at her feet. She stood still in front of me, totally naked, as though she were offering kaçak iddaa herself up to me — perhaps a bit fearful of what I would do next.

I thought of how fortunate I was to have such a beautiful woman. I placed my hands on her waist and glided them up along her sides and back down over her hips. She trembled. I squeezed her breasts tightly and tweaked her nipples harder than I would normally. She cried out but stood still staring into my eyes. Then I pushed her firmly back on to the bed. She looked frightened but remained motionless. As I took off my clothes, her eyes remained locked on mine. Then, she spread her legs wide.

I hadn’t realized how hard my cock had become. It popped out of my underwear as I pulled them down. I lowered myself down on top of her and gripped her head in my hands. We kissed passionately.

I felt her hand searching frantically for my cock. “Paul, please fuck me. I’m yours.”

I grabbed her wrists and placed her hands above her head. Then, I took my cock in my hand and pointed it between her legs. As I slid inside, Dana pushed her hips forward sharply as though she wanted to impale herself on my cock.

“Fuck me hard Paul! Fuck me hard!” she pleaded.


The screech of a chair being dragged along the tile floor abruptly pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see a well-dressed middle aged woman sitting down at the table next to me in the train station. Our eyes met. She smiled and sat down with her back to me.

I returned to thinking about that day with Dana and how frantically we had made love that evening. We had been like animals. We couldn’t make love hard enough — either of us. When we finished, we were both dripping with sweat. My cum was spread all over her — between her legs, along her thighs and on her breasts. We smelled of sex.

Later, when we talked about what had happened and how we felt, Dana said that she had wanted to give herself to me totally — for me to know that she was mine and that I could take her any way I wanted.

I felt as though I was reclaiming her out of some primeval need to mark my territory. As months went by, I came to accept the fact that I was excited by the thought that my wife had been lusted after and fucked by another man — that she had immediately returned to my side and begged to be fucked by me. It made me feel proud.

I took the last sip of my coffee and looked up. The morning rush was over. There were fewer people in the hall and it was quieter. I picked up my phone and called up Dana’s number again. I hit the Send button. Just at that moment, the woman at the table beside me shifted in her chair. What beautiful dark hair and full red lips! My eyes started exploring her body.

“Hello!” Dana’s voice on the phone startled me. “Hello?” she repeated obviously wondering whether anyone was on the other end.

My people watching came to an abrupt end.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Oh hi! It’s you!” Dana said happily. “I was wondering where you were.”

“How are things?” I asked again.

“Good. Lea and I are just about to do some grocery shopping. How about you?”

“Well, I’m sitting here in the central Copenhagen train station, waiting for my train to Skagen.”

“What did you do yesterday?”

I hesitated. “I walked down Stroeget.” I paused and inhaled. “Actually, you wouldn’t believe what happened.”

“Try me.”

“I met a woman at Illum.”

“Oh!” There was quiet on the other end.

“She asked if I could help her with some shopping for her husband.”

Dana laughed. “So, did you help her?”

“I think so.”

“So what did you suggest?”

“Actually, she already knew pretty much what she wanted.”

“Oh? What was that?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the woman sitting at the table next to me had turned in her chair. I could now see her face. I wondered whether she was listening to our conversation.

I lowered my voice. “She asked if I would help her select some…clothes…at Agent Provocateur.”

“Pardon?” Dana’s voice was raised. She sounded shocked. The woman’s head jerked to the side. Her eyebrows furrowed.

I turned my back to her and tried to speak quieter. “She asked if I would help her decide on some lingerie at Agent Provocateur.”

“You’ve got to be kidding?”

“No! Actually, I’m not. She was interested in a black set in the shop window, but I convinced her to get something more colourful. You should see it. I mean, I’d like you to see that set, Dana. It’s called Kuri” I said hoping to redirect the conversation.

There was silence again. “So…just a minute.” There was a rustling sound at the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a door closing. “How did you meet again?”

I described how Inga was mistakenly attracted by the stacked sugar cubes at my table in the cafeteria at Illum, the scene at Agent Provocateur with Karen, and lunch at Slotskaelderen.

“The whole afternoon and evening was so surreal, Dana! I’m still wondering whether it happened at all!”


I inhaled. “She invited me back kaçak bahis to their home for supper. It was just down the street from the restaurant — you know, across from the parliament buildings. I met her husband. You’d like him.” I waited a while for Dana to say something. There was no response.

I decided to continue. “We had supper and…” I hesitated. “Well, she had me fuck her from behind in front of her husband…at the dinner table.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Dana said loudly.

Although I had been talking in what I thought to be almost a whisper, I’m sure that the woman beside me had heard Dana. She had slid around abruptly in her chair and was looking directly at me with an incredulous look on her face. Time froze as we stared at one another. I shrugged my shoulders. She had to be hearing a lot of this conversation, I thought!

I turned away in my chair and continued. “Really! I still can’t believe the evening. They were such a nice couple — obviously very much in love with one another. I guess he gets his excitement from being cuckolded. It was her birthday present to him.”

“Cuckolded? What’s that?”

“It’s a French term — where a wife …has sex with another man sometimes right in front of him.”

There was a long pause. “Oh…well…that was an interesting start to your trip!” Dana was obviously lost for words and just searching for something to say.

I was concerned that she was as hurt as I was that first time with Peter. “Geez Dana, I wish you were here with me right now. I would rather have told you about this face to face, but I wanted to tell you right away.”

“You certainly had a memorable day…to say the least!” Dana said, trying to be more upbeat.

“That’s for sure. I love you, Dana.”

“I love you Paul,” she said reassuringly. I heard a knock and a voice in the background. “Just a moment,” Dana said. She came back on the line sounding a bit rushed. “I’ve got to go. When will you call again?”

“Probably tomorrow evening. I’m on the train most of the day today. Dana, are you OK?”

“Yes, of course. It just takes a bit of time to process that’s all.”

“I love you Dana. You know that!”

“Yes, Paul. I know that. Look! Take care and give me a call tomorrow.” Then she added, “You’ll have difficulty topping your first day.”

“That’s for sure. I’ll call again tomorrow.”

I hit the End button and put my phone back down on the table. I slumped in my chair. That didn’t go that badly, I thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman beside me quickly turn away and look straight ahead. I saw her amused face reflected in the glass window directly in front of her. I gathered up my things and stood to leave for my train. As I walked by her, I nodded and shrugged. She smiled still with an amused look on her face.

The train left right on time and I arrived in Skagen — the northern most point on the tip of Jutland – at around four in the afternoon. As I walked along the platform toward the station exit, I passed a poster advertising the Skagens Museum. Dana had told me about a famous group of Danish painters based in Skagen in the late 1800s and had suggested that I see their work. Looking at my watch, I realized that I had enough time for a quick tour if I went directly there.

I followed the signs to the museum. I felt a bit awkward walking in with my panniers, but the woman behind the cash register directed me to some lockers just down the hallway. It was a small building with dark wood panelling, high ceilings and hardwood floors throughout. Walking through the galleries, I was struck by the size of some of the canvases and the way that evening light was depicted in warm shades of blue and pink.

I entered a room that was a special exhibition of an artist named Laurits Tuxen. A man and woman were standing beside one another in the middle of the room admiring a painting of a beautiful nude woman maybe in her late twenties walking gingerly out of the sea onto a sandy beach. You could feel a light breeze and the warmth of the sun on her pink skin. I was drawn closer to the painting and didn’t realize that I was standing beside the younger couple.

The man turned toward me and quietly said something. I was so captivated by the woman in the painting — her tight body, firm breasts and red cheeks – that I didn’t quite hear what he had said.

“Pardon me?” I said.

“Beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Yes, very beautiful.” I replied.

The woman beside him turned around and smiled. I was immediately struck by how much she looked like the woman in the painting. She, too, was a brunette, in her late twenties or early thirties, with a rosy complexion. Although she was wearing a dress, it was tight fitting and left no doubt her body had those same curves and firm round breasts.

I returned her smile and looked back at the painting. I was concerned that I had stared at her for too long and had made her feel uncomfortable. As I left the gallery a minute or two later, I looked back hoping to get another look at her — more discretely this time. She was looking my way. Our eyes met. She nodded and smiled as though she knew what I was up to. I was embarrassed at being caught and started to blush. I sheepishly returned her smile, turned around and continued walking into the next gallery.

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