Chloe's Sweet Pink Pt. 01

This story continues Chloe's timeline from "Riding With Dirty Girls," "Chloe Rides Again," and "Chloe's Return." You can probably get something out of the sex scenes in isolation, but for background, you ideally need to have read the other series' first.

This is a work of fiction. A figment of the author's imagination. It is not meant to be big on realism. It's a fantasy. The culture around world-class women's cycling probably isn't a hotbed of lesbian lust, but wouldn't it be fun if it were?

All characters are fictitious, and any that are involved in sexual activities are over 18.

***

Chloe's Sweet Pink Pt. 01

Pink. The Giro d'Italia is all about pink. Just as Le Tour de France craves yellow, and the Vuelta a España goes crazy for red, in the Giro, everyone is chasing pink. Luckily, I like pink.

The Tour de France's yellow jersey must be the best known garment in cycling, but all stage races have a leaders jersey, and they are all different colours. There's a story behind why each of them is a particular colour, but I won't get into that. Suffice to say, they are all iconic in their own ways, especially the three grand tour ones, and the Giro's just happens to be pink, hence the race's nickname, the "Corsa Rosa."

They've actually messed about with the name of the female Giro a number of times. At one time, it was called the "Giro Donne" (my favourite) at another, the "Giro Femminile" but now it's officially known as the "Giro d'Italia Women," which is my least favourite, and I refuse to refer to it as such. It's an Italian race, for God's sake. I notice that the Italian press still call it the "Giro Rosa."

Anyway, if you've read Chloe's Return, you'll know that, after my result at the Vuelta a España, I signed a huge contract which committed me to also riding the other two "grand tours," Giro and Tour, and my currency in the sport was now so high that I was to be co-leader at the Giro with Zara Visto, despite her being Italian, and a former double winner of this race! Even Tera Griffin (also a former winner) could find herself working for me. It was quite shocking, and frankly scary, to be thrust into the spotlight like this.

When I arrived in Bergamo for the Giro, I was fit, ready, and busily fastening my race head on. I wanted that pink jersey - or skinsuit, as is more likely nowadays.

When I left Belgium three weeks before, with that fat juicy contract stuffed figuratively in my back pocket, I'd flown direct to Dublin to spend a few days with Licia. She was healing fast after her dislocated shoulder, and was back on the bike, though still some way from getting back to racing.

She always said she'd much rather be on the bike than indoors, so now that she could ride again you'd imagine she'd desert the Curves gym and do her training out on the road, but the gym now had a special attraction in the form of Lisa and, although I didn't press the point, I suspected she quite liked getting up to mischief in the storeroom with her, even more than riding up the Wicklows. Lisa's gap was more tempting than the Sally Gap.

Well, that was OK. We had a very open relationship, and I didn't begrudge her a little fun with 'that sexy little scrag bag' as Licia uncharitably referred to Lisa. After all, I was welcome to join them whenever I wanted, and you know how I adore a threesome.

As the plane banked over Dublin on its final approach, I looked down at the city and I had a little frisson of excitement. I was looking forward to seeing my belle, as I always do, but I was also looking forward to bike rides in the Wicklows, nights out in Temple Bar and, of course, a bit of fun with Lisa. I decided I could easily fall for Dublin.

Licia was waiting in arrivals, and she was such a vision, in short denim shorts, a wrapover top, trainers, and her Schwalbe baseball cap. To be honest, she could probably have worn a boiler-suit and she'd have looked stunning to me at that moment. Those shorts did make her bum and thighs look especially lush though.

As usual, she was also wearing her mischievous beaming smile, which is completely contagious, and we were soon hugging each other with face-aching grins.

We drove around the orbital motorway to Knocklyon in her ageing car, which was making a funny noise. 'Yeh, there's something up with it. I need to take it to the garage.'

I had a sudden impulsive idea. Now that I had riches beyond my widest dreams, I guess money was burning a hole in my pocket. 'I have a better idea. Why don't you trade it in for a newer one? I'll pay for it.'

She looked a little nonplussed. 'What? Nooo, I can't let you do that. I'm not a charity case, Chloe.'

'Well let me pay half then. It'll be OUR car.'

She looked askance at me, and we rumbled along in silence for a minute or two before she spoke.

'I know you have loads of dosh now babe, but I'm doing OK. I don't need handouts.'

'Aww, don't think of it like that, Liss. You're my partner. I want to share everything with you.'

I realised, with a slight shock, that my success, and my new affluence, could drive a wedge between us. I'd heard that some couples have been driven apart by income inequality, or by their inability to deal with it. Could that happen to us? I could feel the fear rising.

My new contract meant that my annual income would be something like ten times more than hers, even though she's a solid pro, and I could see that she could feel inadequate if we cemented our relationship even more. I had made the car suggestion quite frivolously, in a little fit of generosity, but now I was realising the greater implications.

I didn't know what to say next, but I breathed a sigh of relief when she spoke again; 'I know how generous you are, Chloe, it's one of the things I love about you, and now you're a rich bitch I know you'll want to spoil me. I guess it's just something I'll have to put up with.' She rolled her eyes affectedly and we giggled. 'But don't overdo it,' she raised a finger. 'I have my pride, you know. Deal?'

'Deal,' I grinned.

I should have known she'd react like this. She's not insecure, so it was obvious she wouldn't be churlish about it.

'So, can we go car-hunting tomorrow?' I said, gleefully.

'Aye, if you want,' she sighed, pretending it was a chore, and I clapped my hands. This was going to be almost as much fun as going to the bike shop.

When we got to her house, there was a wonderful aroma. 'Mmm, what's cooking?' I said with my nose in the air, '... It's not...?'

'Well it's not a Molly stoofpot, but it is my Irish Guinness version,' she grinned.

'Ooohh, you absolute beauty...' I grabbed her for a squeeze and she winced slightly. 'Careful, I'm still a BIT sore.'

'Oops, sorry, I forgot.'

We ate, wonderfully, and I couldn't resist playing a little footsie with her under the table. I'd already taken my shoes off, and I ran my foot up the inside of her calf to her knee. She eyed me and smirked, but carried on eating.

A little fizz of electricity passed between us, but I withdrew my foot and continued with my meal. She was too irresistible though and my foot returned, this time continuing to the inside of her thigh, where I wiggled my toes, cheekily. She eyed me again and we were both smirking fruitily at each other now.

Would we finish the meal? It was looking increasingly uncertain as our arousal skyrocketed. And all I'd done was a little footsie.

I slid my foot back down her leg almost to her ankle, but it wouldn't behave, and back it went, all the way up until it encountered her denim-covered crotch. I had slid down slightly on my chair to reach, and I noticed she had opened her legs a little wider...

Luckily, we had almost finished our bowls of stew now. I would normally have gone for seconds, but not this time. I slid off my chair onto the floor, ducking under the table, and started undoing her shorts. She giggled excitedly, and helped me by undoing the button as I fumbled with the zip, and raising her bum so I could tug them down, bringing her knickers with them, exposing her beautiful hairy pussy.

Be both knew exactly what we were doing and, as soon as her feet were out of her pants, she spread her legs wide and shuffled her bum to the edge of the chair in an unabashed "eat me" gesture.

I knelt between those succulent open thighs and nuzzled my nose into her pubes, inhaling her marvellous pussy scent, then I tentatively lapped at her fleshy, pouty lips, which were already slick with girl goo and making a shiny smear on the wooden chair.

Her flavour hit me like a splash of peach juice. After the slightly burnt, bitter taste of the Guinness stew, she was marvellously smooth, syrupy, and alkaline. Almost creamy. Mm, the perfect dessert.

I ate her in a delicious trance, savouring her heat, her soft, hairy mons, her bold shiny clit, her fleshy, fubsy flaps, and her oh-so sapid sex syrup, until she rose to her orgasm. 'Oh babe, that's gorgeous... feels so good... I'm gonna come... ohh... fuck... gonna come... gonna come, ohh fuck I'm coming... ohh... oh, oh, oh, oh...'

She jerked and twitched, and I was treated to a delicious little dribble of musky, earthy orgasm juice, which I swallowed with relish. Oh God, I could drink her FOR EVER.

Sublime though this was, it was only a preliminary. We went up to bed and had the most beautiful sex for two hours. Sometimes our sex is desperate, rabid, overwhelming, but not this time. This time it was slow, gentle, sensuous and affectionate. The sex of two people really in love.

As you know by now, I'm very much into casual encounters, and I really enjoy gratuitous sex with a variety of women, just for the carnal pleasure of it, but this lovers sex was definitely something special. It spoke to my heart, as well as my dirty mind.

In the morning I was excited. We were going car-hunting, and over breakfast I was looking at all the local dealers and their used stock. Licia had firmly ruled out a brand new car ('We don't need to spend that much') so I was browsing 2 or 3 year old ones.

'What kind do you fancy?' I asked.

'Well, nothing too... fancy.' she replied.

'Any make?'

'Yeh, not bothered.'

'What colour?'

'A nice blue maybe... or red.'

I looked at her exasperatedly. 'Something sporty? Maybe a convertible?'

'Oo no, way too flash.' She was definitely a shrewd, down to earth Yorkshire lass. 'I like the one I've got. Something like that but newer would be fine.'

By the time two rounds of tea and toast had been consumed, we had a shorlist -- a very short list -- and we sallied forth, rumbling around Dublin in her ropy old Toyota, visiting 5 dealerships.

At the last one, we struck lucky. Not only was the sales person (sales manager actually) a woman, but she had in stock a model almost identical to Licia's old one. Same colour (a bright blue) a bit more modern looking, but 7 years younger, with only a fraction of the miles. Licia was all smiles, pointing her finger and mouthing 'that one.'

We told Sian, the manager, that the old car was making a nasty noise, and she took it for a test drive, leaving us wondering whether she'd declare the car a worthless piece junk or something. But no, she returned and offered a pretty reasonable price. We asked about the noise, but she just said, authoritatively, 'Yeh, that's just a wheel-bearing.'

The deal was done, and we went into the office to do paperwork. Sian looked at us and said 'Are you two a couple?'

'Yeh, is it so obvious?'

'Yes, it is. It's the way you look at each other, and the way you touch each other. It's lovely.' She smiled.

It was only then that I noticed her string bracelet in rainbow colours. My gaydar must be failing these days...

Suddenly, I started looking at her sexually. She was maybe late 20s or 30, at a guess. Quite tall and well-built, pretty busty under her baggy shirt, with dark hair in a French plait, twinkly dark eyes, and lean, fit-looking hands. Yes, I definitely would.

Licia was smirking at me as I checked her out, and she dug a knuckle into my thigh as a little rebuke. Yes, it's true. I am incorrigible.

When Sian saw Licia's address, she said, 'Oh, that's the same street as the Curves gym. I go there sometimes with a friend of mine. She's a member.'

'Yeah, I'm just across the road, but I'm not a regular, well not until recently, anyway.'

'What changed recently?'

We explained who we were and some of our background, and told her about Licia's injury, and her resulting confinement. We didn't mention Lisa.

She was suitably impressed, though we could tell she was obviously not really a big cycling fan. Licia said, 'It still feels weird, writing "Professional Cyclist" under "Occupation" on a form.' I agree, it does.

We arranged to collect the car two days later and rumbled off back to Knocklyon. It was nearly closing time at Curves, and Licia said, 'Let's go over to see Lisa. There's a good chance of some storeroom fun. She'll close up soon, and we'll have the place to ourselves. We've done that before.' She smirked at me. Bad girl.

We went over, and Lisa greeted us with a beaming smile. 'Oh, coool. Chloe... great to see you.' She grabbed me in a hug, then Licia.

They obviously had a pretty good sexual rapport going on by this time, and Licia cheekily said, 'How're you fixed after closing, Lise,' with a wink and a nod towards the storeroom.

'I've a better idea,' she said. 'How about you both come back to my place? You can stay if you want? A proper girly sleepover...' We all cackled.

'Great idea, we'll go and grab some overnight stuff.'

We returned to Licia's and packed a couple of overnight bags, then met Lisa as she was locking up. Her flat wasn't far away, so the three of us set off to walk there.

'Licia bought a new car today,' I said, by way of conversation.

'Did you? A NEW one?'.

'No, but only a couple of years old. Got it from Sweeny's. Sales woman there gave us a good deal. You might know her. She said she goes in your gym sometimes.'

'It's not MY gym... What's she called?'

'Sian. She's about 30, quite tall and busty...'

'Yeh. I know her. She comes in with Orla sometimes. She's a bit of alright, actually.'

'And gay, too.'

'Is she??'

'Didn't you see the rainbow string bracelet?'

'Aye, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything, does it? I know Orla's not gay.'

'Oh, I think it does in Sian's case... Check her out next time she comes in.'

'Mm, I will, thanks for the heads up,' she grinned.

Her flat was above a locksmith's shop, and was very nice and cosy, with a Juliet-style balcony at the back with a nice view of the Wicklow mountains. Only one bedroom (with double bed, I noticed) but it had everything you need.

'Nice little place, Lisa, I said.

'Yeh, it's great, isn't it? Works well being above the locksmith's. We're almost never here at the same time. They only open 10 til 6 and they're closed all weekend, so they might as well not exist really.'

We didn't just go straight for sex, as you might be expecting. Although we are what Americans might call "fuck buddies" we are also friends.

Anyway, we were hungry and we decided the sex could wait and be better for the waiting. She enlisted our help in the kitchen to knock up a brilliant pasta salad with rocket, cherry tomatos, tuna, and boiled eggs. It was delicious and surprisingly filling, and we made a very congenial trio, sat around Lisa's little kitchen table, chatting and laughing.

Of course, we talked about our recent sexual and romantic journeys, and she really opened up about what it was like to realise her Sapphic desires and to start exploring them.

'It's weird, actually. You spend years repeating the same mantra; "I don't fancy girls. I'm not gay. I don't fancy girls. I'm not gay" and then, when you finally admit it, it's like "of course I feckin fancy girls, what was I thinkin," y'know?

We nodded to show we understood, but we didn't know really. We never had that mantra. It was interesting to see her perspective though.

We retired to the sofa to drink some wine, watch some TV, and let our meal settle a bit, and Licia teased more "turning" experiences out of her.

'So, what have you liked most about being a new lesbian, Lisa?'

'Oh jaysus, where do I start? I like you... and your girlfriend...' she gave a cute little smile, 'and the sex... Oh my God! It's also great being able to letch over women in the gym, without having denial getting in the way. And I do. I'm a terrible lezzy letch nowadays.' We all cackled.

'It's even made my masturbating better,' she went on. We were all ears. 'I've never coaxed so much pleasure out of my pussy before; the sight of it, the feel of it, the taste of it, all of them are so much more exciting now... D'you think I'm turning into a narcissist?

We both shook our heads. 'No, I don't think so,' I said. 'I know exactly what you mean but we are lucky enough to have this wonderful thing we call a pussy. A pleasure-centre extraordinaire. Why not make the most of everything it can give us? I think it's healthy to be aware of our own sexuality and to embrace it fully.'

She looked from me to Licia and back again. 'Oh God, you two are so brilliant... and so feckin hot. Let's go to bed.

She didn't have to suggest it twice. We giggled through to the bedroom, taking off our clothes as we went, and jumped onto her bed.

'Big double bed, eh? That's handy. Good choice Lise.'

'Yeh, well you never know when you'll get lucky, do ye? Funny thing is though, I've never brought anyone back here until now.'

'You mean this bed's a virgin?' said Licia.

'Yep, I guess it is,' Lisa chuckled.

'Well, it's about to lose its virginity, big time!' Licia grinned.

Lisa clapped her hands and said 'Oh my God, I'm like a feckin kid in a sweet shop. I don't know what I'm gonna suck on first.'

'How about nothing?' I said. She looked momentarily nonplussed, until I said 'C'mere and sit on my face.' I had a sudden urge to be queened by her, and I knew it meant I'd also get a fabulous deep tongue-fucking from Licia. I'm not daft, me.

'Aha, you fancy a bit of my sweet little pussy, do you?' she said straddling me.

'Yeah, bring it here... Oo, your pubes are coming along beautifully,' I said, as she moved up over my face.

You may recall, she had taken a shine to Licia's and my pubes when we first fucked, and had vowed she was going to grow hers back, having previously been shaved. Well she was about a month in, and she now had a nice little triangle of pale brown curls. Very pretty.

They were beautifully fine and silky too as I buried my nose in them, and I loved the feeling as she pressed forward, covering my mouth with her soft wet lips. So sensuous and delicious.

She was very wet, and her labia felt slick and oily as she gently thrust against me. I lapped at her entrance, and up to her clit, then back down almost to her arse hole each time she moved back and forth.

Her hips were sinuous and sexy, almost performing a provocative dance; back and forth, side to side, round and round as she gyrated on my face, coating me in her copious and flavoursome cream.

I looked up at her -- she was watching me intently as she fucked my face -- her blonde tresses hanging down and swinging rhythmically with her pelvic thrusts. Her mouth was open, and she actually drooled on me in her rapture before making a sucking noise and swallowing her excess saliva. She was really, really into this.

I was concentrating on pleasuring her to the max when -- FUCK - Licia's tongue slipped into me. My body jerked with the shock of feeling that long muscular member sliding deep into my hole until her nose bumped my clit. She can actually touch her nose with her tongue, and I thrilled to feel her curl it up inside me. Her nose was squashed hard up against my clit, but she just couldn't quite reach my spot. It's oh so tantalising when she does this to me; she might not be able to reach all the way to my spot, but she licks the flesh just inside my entrance strongly, creating a tugging feeling, which almost as good, Her tongue is amazingly powerful as well as long, and this amazing sensation is always guaranteed to bring me to orgasm.

I tried to concentrate on my cunnilingus as my orgasm gathered like an impending storm. I don't quite have Licia's lingual talent or skills but, luckily, Lisa was so worked up that it didn't take much to bring her to the gates of heaven -- and through them.

She bounced up and down violently on my face as she came -- I was glad she is so light -- and musky, dribbly orgasm juice sluiced into my mouth like the most delicious nectar. Just the feeling and taste of that, combined with Licia's curling, probing tongue, were enough to trigger an orgasmic thunderclap, and the lightning definitely hit the spot.

Lisa quieted, and rolled slowly off me, and Licia lifted her head and rested her chin on my pubic bone, giving a deep, throaty little chuckle... 'Oh my, how hot was that? I'll NEVER get tired of doing that.' She licked her lips salaciously, and made a smacking sound like she'd just finished a gourmet meal. It's nice to be appreciated.

She rolled onto her back, saying 'I think someone owes me an orgasm,' and I moved between her legs. Lisa suddenly came back to life and joined me. 'Oo, nice,' said Licia. 'You can share if you want.' So we did.

It was great fun, and very horny, to lie there between Licia's thewy thighs, and take turns eating her fleshy, hairy pussy. Licking, then watching, licking then watching. Beautiful.

I waited until Lisa had her tongue on Licia's clit then I moved in with mine, and trapped that engorged little pedicle between them. Lisa soon got the idea, and she gave a little chuckle as we tongue-fenced over it, sweeping, rasping, flicking, and making it twitch.

'Oh God, that's fucking mental... Don't stop... ohh yeah... like that, like that... oh fuck...'

We drubbed her amazingly hard clit between our tongues, up and down each side, alternating, Lisa then me, Lisa then me. Building the stimulation relentlessly, and I slipped two fingers into her, for good measure.

Unlike her tongue, my fingers could reach the spot, and I curled them up, seeking out that soft little pleasure centre, and I teased it with the pads of my fingertips until she blazed into a fiery orgasm.

'Ohhhhh fuuuuuck... ah ah ah ah ahhh...

Lisa and I licked and licked as she came, maximising and drawing out her pleasure, then our tongues irresistibly moved down to lap cravingly at her dribbling juice... 'mm, mm, ah, ah, lrm, lrm'

We inescapably fell into a kiss, our creamy tongues fencing and wrassling together with our cheeks smearing wetly against Licia's groins. The aroma of hot female sex was all-enveloping and intoxicating.

We took a while to emerge from this post-orgasmic serenity, and Lisa and I continued our gentle juicy kissing, as Licia lay limp in her aftermath, but we eventually separated and all three of us lay side by side on our backs, sighing and moaning blissfully.

Lisa was the first to break the reverie, and we all erupted into cackling when she said, 'Ohh, this sex is so great. It's so sensual, so sensitive... so much better than just letting a guy stick his dick in you.'

We continued exploring the thrill of three for at least another hour, and Lisa was awestruck when we indulged in the "triangulo" that Mavi and Carmen had introduced me to in Benidorm. A wonderful triangle of limbs and tongues.

We slept like babes that night, three in a bed, a tranquil trio.

I was in Dublin for ten days and had a wonderful time, as I always do. We rode the Wicklows on bikes, drove the Wicklows in Licia's new car, hit the bars in Temple Bar, and had another sublime triptych with Lisa. I could definitely get used to that life.

When I returned to Scotland, my house had that empty feeling that was becoming familiar, but it didn't last long. Within a day or two I had settled back into my singleton existence that I used to be so comfortable with, and doing the things I still loved; going for long solo bike rides, eating at weird times of day whenever the fancy took me, walking around naked, having a wank in the bath... Those kinds of things.

Gradually, I got my head around the Giro d'Italia.

***

The Giro Donne

I flew to Bergamo the day before the start, and rendezvoused with the Canyon-Zipp team bus, which would take us to our hotel.

It was good to meet the team again, and reacquaint myself with the girls. It was the same line-up as at the Vuelta: Helen, Marlen, Selina, Trude, Tera, Zara, and me though, as mentioned earlier, the team roles had changed slightly. I was a little worried that there might be some resentment from Tera and Zara, who's leading roles I had usurped somewhat, but there didn't seem to be. Everyone greeted me with warm smiles and hugs.

Despite my new joint leader status with Zara, Tera was still favourite for Stage 1, which was an individual time trial, something of a specialism for her. I seemed to be pretty good at time-trials, but I was not considered to be among the top favourites.

"The Inner Ring" webpage's predictions had Tera on 3 stars, along with Lucy van Barle, Elisa Abruzzi and Suzy Goethe, and me on 2 stars, along with 4 others. It was fair enough. I didn't expect to WIN the time-trial, but I needed to make sure I lost minimal time to those ahead of me. As the Vuelta showed, every second can count!

Dinner that evening was a happy affair. We were all looking forward to the race -- 8 days of cycling in Italy -- what could be better? And we felt we had a strong team, able to take the fight to the likes of Amstel-Rabo and Team Veloviewer. We actually had three riders who could realistically aim to win the General Classification. An embarrassment of riches, almost. It was a fascinating prospect.

I looked around the table at our Lesbian-heavy team. Helen, Marlen and Trude were all gay, plus, there was Debbie the soigneur, who said she was bi, but admitted she hadn't been with a guy for 'quite a while.' I knew she'd had a playtime with Trude, as well as with me, so I was regarding her as lez nowadays. I knew she'd come running if I as much as snapped my fingers.

I was sharing with Helen again, as had become normal, and I was relishing the thought of some intimate fun with her. She was looking radiant with her rosy cheeks and that fiery mane of strawberry blonde curls, and I felt my desire for her rising as we chatted and laughed. Sex was off the menu this evening though, as we all prepared our heads for 8 days of racing, but I allowed myself to look forward to renewing my intimate liaison with Helen at some point very soon.

A main topic of conversation was of course the route, which surprised everyone because it stayed in the north of Italy and didn't venture south at all.

As I've said before, it's difficult to cover a lot of ground in the women's tours because they are only 7 or 8 stages long. In a men's tour, with 21 stages to play with, it's possible to range all over the country. Don't get me started on why the women's tours have to be so much shorter.

As mentioned, the race started with a time trial, then there were 5 stages that varied between flat and moderately hilly, then a big decisive weekend in the Alps; two back-to-back mountain stages with summit finishes. It was there that the race would be won, and it was there I thought I could possibly make my bid for victory, if I was still within striking distance.

***

Stage 1: ITT. Bergamo-Bergamo

14km / negligible climbing.

14km is very short. The winning time was expected to be around 17 or 18 minutes, and a race like this is very difficult to pace. Obviously, you can't go ABSOLUTELY full-gas, but you have to get close to it. For me, it would mean keeping my heart rate above 180 beats per minute -- right up near the anaerobic threshold - and timing the finishing sprint perfectly. I hoped to be no more than 15 seconds behind the winning time.

It was a typical city centre course, with a long stretch up one side of an urban dual-carriageway, round a roundabout, and back down the other side, followed by a strange loop of city streets with lots of 90-degree corners. The lines through those corners would be crucial, going as close as possible to kerbs and barriers without hitting any. A game of precision which was tricky on a TT bike.

There were also plenty of bumps, tarmac patches, and manhole covers. Also tricky on the ungainly time-trial bike. Still, it was a dry day, so at least we didn't have wet to contend with. City streets are amazingly slippery when wet.

The starting order was supposed to be based on the results of previous World Tour time trails, with the favourite starting last. This meant I'd be starting third from last, with only Lucy and Tera behind me, and Elisa and Suzy ahead.

Interestingly, Zara was starting 6th from last. Even though she'd only finished 12th in Granada. Someone had obviously decided that wasn't a representative performance. This was Italy, after all.

July in italy can be very hot, and I had feared another withering day like we had for the Granada time-trial, but the weather gods were kind and only served up sunny spells and 24C. The heat was not going to be a big problem.

I warmed up on rollers, side by side with Zara and Tera, and gave Mark Richards of Eurosport a quick pre-race interview. Of course, he asked whether I was going for stage wins or the GC, and I was feeling cheeky, so I said 'Both.'

'Some people think you are one of the top contenders for stage races like this now. What do you think?'

'Yeah, I think that too,' I grinned.

And the cheeky grin continued when I answered the next question; 'Do you think you can win this time-trial?'

'Yes.'

I noticed Tera to my left, smirking. Well, we'll see...

It was only when Zara left for the start house that the butterflies appeared in my belly. It's always a little scary, preparing for an intense effort like this, but the butterflies were a good sign. They meant I was serious.

I looked at Tera, wondering how she was feeling, but she was just spinning the pedals and looking straight ahead, giving nothing away.

My start time approached and I left the rollers and went to collect my TT bike. I fist-bumped Tera as I left, and we exchanged a 'good luck.'

Top of the start ramp. Weird time-trial helmet in place, foot on the pedal, listening to the countdown...

Beep, beep, beep, BEEEP!

I pressed on the pedal, rolled down the ramp, and tried to get the ungainly TT bike up to speed.

It always feels weird and cumbersome, pulling on those unwieldy flat handlebars, trying get the monstrous gear turning. Oh how I wished I was back at Roubaix on my cyclocross bike, sprinting off the line, racing Lucy and Femke to the first corner. That was proper competition.

Come on, Chloe, focus.

Once I had got up to speed I moved my hands onto the tri-bars, got into an efficient tuck position, and concentrated on turning the pedals as smoothly and powerfully as possible.

I was quickly onto the long straight of the dual-carriageway section and barrelling along at 50kph. Riders who had started ahead of me were flashing past in the opposite direction, just across the barriers of the central strip, and I kept an eye open as best I could for Suzy and Elisa. I knew I probably wouldn't be able to tell much about the gaps, just by sight, but there was a strange compulsion to look.

The first and only clue as to how I was doing would come at the halfway time check. Until then, I could only try to set a solid pace. I pushed my heart rate up to 185 beats and drove on.

Elisa, then Suzy, whizzed by on the other carriageway and they seemed evenly spaced, but the roundabout loomed quickly, and I had to change back to the flat 'bars to brake and negotiate it, then accelerate back up to speed.

The return leg of the straight was long, and I could see Suzy up ahead. Was I gaining? We had started at 1-minute intervals, and she didn't look a minute in front. In theory, I could have gauged it by watching her pass a landmark, then counting the interval until I passed it but, in reality, during an effort like this you are too preoccupied with maintaining pace and staying in the tuck position. I pressed on, keeping my HR above 180bpm.

I was feeling good, and I was sure I was pulling Suzy back. When I passed the 7km time check, I got my answer. Gabi came on the radio and told me I'd gained 20 seconds on Suzy, and 15 on Elisa. Both were huge chunks of time over that distance, especially over riders of their calibre.

Later, I watched the coverage, and the commentators were amazed; 'She's already 20 seconds up on Goethe... and 15 on Abruzzi... Remarkable.'

The time gaps surprised me, but didn't feel overstretched. The effort was super-high; 185bpm is at or above my anaerobic threshold -- the point where you move into an unsustainable metabolism - but, as always when I am super-fit and in racing form, I felt almost detached from it.

Three minutes later, I got info on Lucy, then, a little after that, Tera. I was 7 seconds up on Lucy, and only 4 seconds down on Tera. Wow. I really could win this stage and pull on the first pink jersey.

I pressed on, but over the last 3km I started to pay the price for my flirting with the anaerobic zone. My legs got heavier and my breathing more ragged as oxygen debt increased, bringing a build-up of lactic acid in my muscles. It wasn't disastrous, and I'm famously resistant to it, but it must have had an effect on my pace, and my ability to accelerate out of the slower corners. I was rather less than smooth as I toiled to the line in 17 minutes and 10 seconds -- just a smidge under 50kph average speed.

I was the fastest so far, and I immediately went to evict a ruefully-smiling Elisa from the leader's "hot-seat." Her bum had hardly had time to warm it.

I watched Lucy coming down the finishing straight, with an eye on the clock as the seconds to my time ticked away. Her time turned red and she finished 9 seconds down. I remained seated.

Now the wait for Tera. The time ticked away, and she entered the home straight with just seconds in hand. It was going to be close! She stood up as she strove for the line, showing her teeth, mouth gaping wide open with the effort. 17 minutes came and went. 17.01, 17.02...17.05... 17.06. The numbers were still green as she crossed the line. She had beaten me by 3 seconds. Rats!

I got up from the hot-seat and went to congratulate her. It had been a close-run thing, and I had reason to be very pleased. To be within 3 seconds of a TT specialist like her -- possibly the best time-trial rider in the world -- was an amazing result for me, but I was still jealous when I watched her pull on that pink jersey.

1. Tera Griffin (TCZ) 17.07

2. Chloe Lyons (TCZ) + 00.03

3. Lucy van Barle (TAR) + 00.12

4. Elisa Abruzzi (TVV) + 00.20

5. Suzy Goethe (TAR) + 0023

6. Zara Visto (TCZ) + 0028

The team were super-stoked with the result. This was what taking the fight to Amstel-Rabo looked like, but the big topic of conversation was how we'd defend the pink jersey the next day. Zara and I were the designated co-leaders, but now Tera was in pink I expected we'd both be working for her, along with the rest of the team.

Stage 2 had a strange profile. It looked like a dish, or scoop. Starting in Clusone, it descended into the Val Camonica and followed the bottom of the valley for 30km. Then, at km 47, it started rising and it then climbed all the way to the finish at Aprica. 45km of uphill.

The gradient was only about 3%, so little more than false flat really, but we knew it would be ridden at a fast tempo so it would be taxing, and possibly a launch pad for attacks. We would have to be alert.

As we were finishing dessert, and people started leaving the table, I went and sat with Helen. I hadn't seen her and Lucy together after the race, which I thought unusual, and I'd been watching her during dinner and she she seemed a little dispirited. It was a contrast to her glowing, vivacious smiles of the previous evening.

'Hello, Chloe,' she gave me a little smile.

'Are you OK Helen? You seem quiet. Not your usual self.'

'Yes, I'm alright.' She gave a little sigh.

'Come on. Out with it. Something's not right, is it?'

I knew it wouldn't be anything to do with the race. She never gets disconsolate about a race. Even after her crash in Spain she still had a philosophical smile. I suspected it was something more personal. 'Is it Lucy?'

She looked at me with a doleful expression. 'Yeah, we have decided to cool it for a while. Lucy wants to be more free.'

Well that was odd... 'I thought you were doing that, anyway?' I said.

'Ja we had said that, but Lucy felt we were getting too "involved." She made air quotes with her fingers. 'It's not over, she doesn't want it to be over, she's just wants a little more space for a while.'

I pondered for a minute. 'You know what I think?'

'No, what?'

I think Lucy is falling for you big time, and she's panicking a little. Let her have her space. She'll come back to you, just you wait and see.'

A little smile flickered across her face. 'Do you think so?'

'I'm sure. You are very easy to fall for, Helen. I've nearly fallen for you... oh, a dozen times at least.'

She chuckled and looked at me with her beautiful pale eyes. 'Thank you, Chloe. You're my best friend, you know?

I grinned 'Come on, let's go and socialise with the girls for a bit.'

Everyone was in high spirits, and we had a nice little social, but we had another stage tomorrow, so we called it a day before 10 and headed to our rooms.

I'd already decided that what Helen needed was a bit of special Chloe therapy, to remind her that she was also still free, and still very, very, desirable.

I'd already made my pants wet by thinking about all the super-hot times we'd had together, and especially the time in Willingen, when we'd fucked for half the night. So incredibly hot.

We'd overdone it on that occasion, but I still fancied a redux of at least part of it.

As we got ready for bed, I came up behind her, moved her strawberry blonde mane aside, and started kissing the side of her neck. Her head lolled to the side and she moaned. 'Ohh, Chloe...'

My hands came around her waist and slipped into the waistband of her knickers, sliding slowly down the soft grooves of her groins until my fingers encountered her moist pussy lips. My thumbs toyed with her pubes, which felt surprisingly sparse. Not how I remembered them at all. 'Hmm trimmed?' I whispered.

'Mm, Lucy likes it... '.

'Shh,' I said, 'we don't need any Lucy talk. Not tonight.'

She turned to kiss me and we smooched deliciously, my hands now squeezing her bodacious bum cheeks. Oh my God. A Helen kiss. I'd almost forgotten.

I broke the kiss, reluctantly, and started taking off her knickers, crouching to pull them down her thighs and drop them to the floor. While I was down there, she unhooked her bra and released her magnificent tits, right in my face. I kissed one, briefly, so full and soft, then stood and quickly got rid of my undies.

I sat on one of the single beds and said, 'Come here and sit on me Helen. I want to feel your thighs.' She'd done this to me in Willingen and I'd never forgotten it. I wanted more of it.

I shuffled back slightly and she came and knelt astride me, sitting in my lap and squeezing me tightly between her legs.

'Oh Helen. Those thighs...'

'I love how you appreciate them, Chloe,' she smiled

She bent her head to kiss me again, while I copped a nice feel of their soft yet muscular fullness. My hands moved up, and when my fingers approached her groins, she relaxed the vice-like grip she'd been holding my body in, and spread her legs apart in an unmistakeable invitation. Oh, gorgeous Helen.

I turned my palms up and I slid them between her legs until my fingertips found her syrupy wet lips and she moaned a breathy 'Ohh.'

I sought her clit with a fingertip, then began circling it, gently, while gazing into her eyes. Her face was a picture of lustful rapture, and she drew a huge breath - in, then out. Her pussy was hovering close to mine, and I turned my other hand over and slipped my middle finger between my lips so that I had both our clits at my fingertips, one for each hand.

'Oh, so lovely Chloe,' she moaned. 'Mmmm.'

She bent to kiss me again, her slightly frizzy strawberry blonde hair falling around me and tickling my face, and she crossed her arms loosely around my neck. Oh God, this was so gorgeously horny and sensual. Helen's kisses are so marvellously erotic, and to be enveloped in the curly cave of her hair, with her full womanly breasts cosying up to me, while teasing her clit and my own with my fingers while she redefined the term " sexual kiss" was simply divine.

The kiss went on and on, and my arousal soared into the stratosphere. Helen's too, if her body language, her muffled moans, and the wetness trickling between my fingers was anything to go by. Her lips were like nectar, and the aroma of hot pussies surrounded us, thrilling my senses.

We were both close to coming, and I tried to match the stimulation, trying to gauge her impending climax, hoping to make our orgasms simultaneous. Twice, I was almost there, and I stopped myself while continuing my caresses of Helen's clit. She was gasping and whimpering, but her final release didn't arrive, and I was right on the very edge... Teetering on the brink of an uncontrollable orgasm.

Eventually, I decided to go for penetration and I curled two fingers up and slipped them into her. As soon as I touched her spot, she threw her head back and let out a throaty wail of pleasure. Her back arched as her orgasm rose, and I started frigging my clit again with two fingers, racing her to the peak, and we got there almost together, roaring in tandem through the aching joy of our crescendo.

Our orgasms were wonderfully long and sustained. Mine rose to three distinct peaks, each more intense than the previous one and, judging by the sounds she was making, and her endlessly trickling honey, Helen was having a similar experience. I only stopped my finger stimulation as we both passed into jerky aftershocks.

As we gradually calmed, Helen moved back, stood up, then sat down heavily on the other bed. She leaned back, supporting herself on her arms, and accidentally showing off the way her beautifully plump breasts - still with very erect nipples - sat perfectly on her chest.

She sat there, breathing quite heavily and looking unfeasibly gorgeous, and said, 'Chloe, you are something else.'

I giggled. 'That makes two of us, Helen '

***

Stage 2: Clusone -- Aprica.

Modest hill. 92km / 1300m

At breakfast the next morning, Helen was back to her usual radiant self, and there was much excited banter about the day's stage. The consensus was that there would be no early break, but someone would have a go once we were near that long gentle uphill.

Surprisingly, Robbie and Gabi weren't prioritising the defence of Tera's pink; 'It's early days. All we need to do is avoid any major time losses. The GC is going to be decided at the weekend, we all know that.'

Personally, I thought Zara was pretty likely to light it up. She had a small time deficit to make up and she would want the pink for herself "for the glory of Italy." Plus, she famously loves a solo attack. She's not nicknamed "La Petarda" (the firecracker) for nothing.

The team bus ride was less than an hour, and we rumbled into Clusone and parked among a gaggle of other buses and team cars. The place was a multi-coloured melee of riders, staff, and team liveries.

I enjoyed all the pre-stage hubbub for once; kitting up, signing on, checking bikes etc. There was a buzz - a kind of thrum of excitement - as we got ready to race. It was stage 2 but it felt like the start. Yesterday was a prologue really. Today, the real racing began.

It was great to renew connections with people like Pam, Aimée, Jude, Gigi, Mae, Leonie, Inga, Stella, Maisie and Sabina. SO many fist bumps and hugs. I felt blessed to have all these women in my life, and blessed to be a part of this great, great sport. The sheer camaraderie -- the sorority -- of this community filled my heart to bursting.

I'm an emotional soul sometimes, and I almost had tears of joy in my eyes as we rolled out on the neutralised start. Our team was all grouped behind Tera in the Maglia Rosa, and I found myself between Marlen and Helen. Not a bad place to be in any circumstances.

The flag dropped at km 0 and, as expected, nothing happened. The peloton just rolled swiftly along, enjoying the downhill trend to the head of Lago d'Iseo, where spectators were out in force, cheering and waving flags. The sun was glinting brightly off the blue water of the lake, and I was feeling great. Euphoria was setting in.

The 30km along the valley floor passed smoothly under our wheels, and then, at a place called Breno, the road started to rise, almost imperceptibly.

The angle was slight, and there was no need for gear changes or anything like that, but the easy chatter in the bunch quieted as everyone started putting a little more power into the pedals.

We were still keeping up a brisk pace, but I had an eye on Zara because our speed still left plenty of room for an acceleration. She had that look on her face, and was glancing around to see where everyone was.

Sure enough, at Capo di Ponte, with 35km to go, she jumped. It wasn't a completely ballistic attack. Not as devastating as some she's done, but the surprising thing was, she took three others with her, and they were all Italians!

Was this a case of national interests outweighing team ones? Some kind of Italian Master Plan? One thing was sure, they must have plotted this beforehand. Sneaky minxes.

Zara's companions were Elisa Abruzzi, Leona Breva, and Letizia Marchionni, so this was a strong and dangerous little group, yet they weren't immediately chased down.

Despite having Tera in pink we weren't going to chase Zara, and Tera confirmed it when we looked at her and she shook her head. Was she in on it??

Verso-Lab weren't going to chase either, with Leona in the break, and Veloviewer certainly weren't, with TWO riders up the road, so it was left to Lucy's Amstel-Rabo team, and sure enough, their long-suffering super domestique, Olga, was soon on the front and pulling.

Our pace cranked up, but the Italian quartet were on a mission. I watched the coverage later and they were like a well-oiled machine -- a chain gang - all on the drops, heads down, legs pumping away, and taking the lead in rotation like it was a team time-trial.

They quickly had over a minute on us, then a minute and a half, and alarm bells started to ring. We were prepared for them to win the stage, but we didn't want any huge time gap. If a rider of Zara's calibre (or Elisa's for that matter) got over a minute's advantage, the Giro could be over right here. Either of them could certainly defend a one-minute lead, even on the big mountains still to come. We had to rein them in.

All the teams were obviously having the same jitters and the peloton was soon in full pursuit mode. The Italians were still working well together but they couldn't match the might of the full peloton, and the gap started to come down.

With 10km to go, we had pulled them back to 40 seconds and everyone started to breathe a little more easily. We could probably still have caught them, but a little bit of momentum went out of the chase, and as we approached the flamme rouge (1km to go) it was clear they were going to survive. Not by much, but enough. The Italian Master Plan had worked.

I was actually pleased for them, and I found myself clapping when I watched the race highlights later and they rolled across the line four abreast, arms around each other's shoulders and Elisa resplendent in the Italian champion's tricolore jersey, with the chasing pack visible in the background.

I only found out after the race that it was Elisa's birthday and it had all been her idea. The Italian press were full of it. She had won the stage, and swapped her tricolore for the maglia rosa. It was a great day for her, and a great day for Italy. How could I begrudge them that?

It was an all-Italian podium, and they invited Letizia, the 4th member of the quartet, to go up there and stand together with the other three to take the plaudits of the crowd. Quite rightly. Don't you just love sport?

Marieke won the bunch sprint for 5th place (as if that matters) and the rest of us finished safe in the bunch and were given the same time.

The leaderboard of the GC looked a little different after the stage, but the breakaway's final gap had only been a few seconds, so time differences were not huge.

GC:

1. Eliza Abruzzi (TVV) 2:43.20

2. Zara Visto (TCZ) + 00.10

3. Tera Griffin (TCZ) + 00.33

4. Chloe Lyons (TCZ) + 00.36

5. Lucy van Barle (TAR) + 00.45

6. Suzy Goethe (TAR) + 00.56

I was mildly worried. 36 seconds from Elisa (and 26 off Zara) doesn't sound like a lot, but I knew that taking that back from the likes of those two would be no mean feat. I was going to need my very best legs.

Back at the hotel, I called Licia and she sounded very upbeat:

'Hey babe, great stage today eh? And what a great story with Elisa and the others. Did you know about it in advance?'

'No, not til after. It took us all by surprise.'

'So you didn't let them have the stage then?'

'Don't be daft. You know that wouldn't happen. I'm glad we didn't catch them though. It would have spoilt it.'

'Yeh, it would. Ahh, Elisa the birthday girl eh? I've always liked Elisa...'

'Yeah, I'm happy for her. Even though I'm down to 4th and half a minute behind.'

'You'll take it back on the big climbs babe. I've told you, you're the best climber in the world just now.'

'Stop it. I'm not underestimating Elisa, or Zara, or Lucy, or Tera, or...'

She burst out laughing. 'OK, I get it. You're up to it though babe. Long way to go yet.' I smiled to myself. I love how she bigs me up.

'Hey, this new car is ace!' she suddenly said. 'You can open the boot just by waving your foot at it, AND it puts the lights on automatically when you go into a tunnel, AND the wipers on if it starts raining. I'm reading the manual to find out if it can make tea.'

I chuckled. 'I'm glad it's put you in a good mood.'

'Yeh, and that's not the only thing... Oh God, I nearly forgot to tell you...'

'What?'

'I'm off out tonight. Uptown with Lisa and, wait for it... Sian!

'Wow. How did that come about?' I asked, my mouth hanging open.

'Well... Sian went to the gym with her mate Orla, and Lisa told her she knew me and you. The conversation got interesting, and the next thing you know, they're inviting me out on the town with them. We're going to that lesbian do at Bad Bob's Rooftop. Should be fun!'

'Hmm, I bet it will be... Well, enjoy it, and don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

'I'm not sure I could think of anything YOU wouldn't do...'

'Cheeky minx!'

'You love it...'

'Maybe... enJOY yourselves, and tell me all about it tomorrow.'

'Yessum'

'Ciao.'

'Ciao, bella'

I headed down to dinner, musing. I guess I was a little envious of their night out. I quite fancied having a look at that lesbian party, just to feel its vibe. Dripping with oestrogen, I bet.

I was fully aware of what kind of night out it was going to be, and my imagination ran riot, thinking about how it might end up. I guess I was feeling a little left out.

I walked into the dining room, and saw Helen and Marlen sitting together, and I thought... Hmm, there's a sandwich that needs a filling.