Hot 'n Steamy Cycling Club

Ever since Corey Richards and I broke up, I've been in a constant state of gloom.

Not that I was head over heels for him, but the time we spent together was just too good to let go. He was, without a doubt, the most outstanding man I had ever met. Whether it was his stamina or his physique, he was by far the best boyfriend I've ever had.

From our very first date, I felt a kind of pleasure I'd never experienced before, a joy so profound that I was startled by the secret my own body had been hiding.

Turns out, I was born with a craving—for that kind of pleasure.

Once I'd tasted the best of it, I found myself falling more in love with it, over and over again. But I hadn't realized it until I met someone like Corey, someone who was a masterpiece of a man.

After that, there was no turning back. I became insatiable, always wanting more, needing more.

But Corey couldn't keep up with the constant demand for affection, the way I clung to him day and night, and in the end, he chose to leave me.

Since then, I've dated a few other men, but none of them could give me the level of pleasure that he did. None of them came close.

So, I stayed stuck in this melancholy, unable to shake it off.

My best friend, Lisa Hudson, noticed and suggested I try something new to take my mind off him.

"How about coming cycling with me? Maybe after some exercise, you'll be able to let him go," she said. Her eyes gleamed with a strange light, and her smile was a little odd.

At the time, I didn't think much of it. I just assumed she genuinely wanted to help me work through my heartbreak with some physical activity. And since moping around wasn't helping, I agreed to her idea.

Soon enough, I joined a local cycling group through her recommendation.

The group was small, just a dozen people or so, and mostly men. Lisa and I were the only women.

The moment I joined, some jokester in the chat started teasing me. He asked me, the newcomer to share a photo of myself.

I'm not one to share personal things with strangers, so I had no intention of responding to the group's banter. But before I could even react, Lisa went ahead and sent my photo without permission.

"This is my best friend Julie Hart. Gorgeous, isn't she? And she used to be the campus belle back in school!"

"Wow! She's an absolute stunner, alright! My eyes have been opened!"

"Lisa, how come you didn't introduce your friend to the group earlier? If I'd known I had a chance to meet someone this beautiful, I'd never have bothered getting a girlfriend."

"Lisa, you're the best! You always think of us single guys first…"

Someone tagged me directly, "Hey, beautiful, free this weekend? How about joining us for a ride?"

The group chat exploded. I went to the bathroom for just a few minutes, and by the time I came back, there were over 99+ messages.

Curious, I scrolled back through the flood of notifications, trying to catch up.

And then, I saw it.

I almost passed out on the spot.

Lisa, that sneaky little thing, hadn't just sent any photo. No. She had sent the one of us in bikinis, taken during a poolside photoshoot.

In the picture, I'm wearing a barely-there three-piece bikini, sprawled seductively by the edge of the pool, eyes lifted towards the camera.

My wet hair clung to my skin, emphasizing my glistening, exposed fair skin. The whole scene oozed with a sultry, drenched allure—an image that radiated temptation.

I quickly messaged Lisa, begging her to delete it. But she was too busy flirting with the guys in the group to notice my texts. It took a while before she finally replied with nothing more than a mischievous emoji.

"Why act shy?" she messaged back. "There are plenty of guys in the group who work out regularly—there's no way none of them could outdo Corey."

"I'm doing this for you, Julie! Trying to help you find your next flame. Don't worry, I've already vetted them all. You'll thank me later."

By the time I tried to get her to take the photo down, it was too late. The window to recall the message had already passed. There was nothing I could do but give up on that idea.

Still, the thought of my private photo being ogled by so many strange men left me feeling a weird, itchy kind of sensation inside. And then, echoing in my head were Lisa's words about these guys being better than Corey…

Before I realized it, I had already typed out a reply in the group chat, agreeing to their invite for a weekend ride.