Soul Journal

The room is already mostly full of serious looking females, seated on their single-wheeled bicycles. I tentatively take up a position near the back,  trying to quell my nerves and assure myself that it’s a self-motivated activity and I am sure I can navigate myself through the instructions of the solid looking female instructor. Who looks like she plays professional rugby. Sara introduces herself before bellowing out “any newcomers?”

I tentatively raise my hand and she leaps of her bike and strides between the rows of equipment to reach me. She raises the seat and makes sure I am comfortable with the knobs on the machine before bounding back up to the front.

“Right, let’s do this!”. The lights dim and Sara sets a slow pace as a warm up. I quickly realise that the seat is angled so that my clitoris is pushed up against it, and the pedaling motion has it rub from side to side in a very pleasant manner.  I wonder how far I can take this….

I make sure the resistance is reasonable and I start to feel my thighs and calves burn as we intermittently race and rest. I can hear the women around me, beginning to inhale and exhale rhythmically in time with their pumping legs.

I can feel my bean swelling as my breathe deepens, and I lean back a little to ease off the pressure. We’re only ten minutes in, I can spend a little time teasing.

As we move to scale another hill, my heart rate has crept up and my breathing is becoming short and sharp. I can feel a quivering in my stomach beginning to grow, and my legs quiver ever so slightly every couple of rotations.

The intensity is mounting, both in Sara’s directions and in my groin.

“Stand! Push it out! Let’s race this climb!”

I stand, my clitoris begging for only a few more seconds. I grit my teeth, pushing through on a high resistance, my thighs burning.

“Sit! But don’t touch those dials! Let’s work it here for two more minutes!”

Push, rub, pedal, rub, pedal pedal yes yes yes

YES.

I hold my breathe as the waves of pleasure shudder through my body. My legs have slowed and my heart is racing. I start to pant.

The class slows. The lights come up. Women towel perspiration from their foreheads. I stretch, arching my back then slowly disembark my ride.
I think I’ll be back next week.