Moto Cross Experiences

Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
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Joined: September 13th, 2014, 7:59 pm
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Moto Cross Experiences

Post by rubbermackintosh » June 5th, 2018, 8:00 pm


When I first finished school I got a local job to earn some cash before going to Uni. In Sheffield. It was across town from where I lived. To get there I got a local bus into town and then another out to my place of work. Most of the time the journey worked out fine but the home journey could be not so easy as the bus back into town was often full with workers from a trading estate a bit further out. There were times when I had to wait for two or three buses before I could get on one. This was okay if the weather was fine but it was another matter when it rained as there was no shelter at the stop where I waited.

There was a complete week of rain in early September and I got wet each morning and evening. I had a yellow PVC cape and sou’wester which was okay for a bike but looked pretty silly on a bus so I relied on an umbrella. That was okay until the Thursday evening when a strong gust of wind wrecked my brolly and left me getting soaked. Shortly, a VW pick-up truck pulled up and the young lad driving it called “Want a lift to town?” I recognised him as someone from my school who was a couple of years older than me and accepted gratefully. We chatted about school days and he kindly took me all the way home which saved me waiting around for my final bus to home.

The following Monday I was waiting for my bus from work into town when the truck pulled up again. “Hop in” said the driver and I accepted without a second thought. The VW was an odd vehicle to ride in as the sitting position was higher than a car and there was no bonnet in front as the engine was under the floor behind the cab.

I asked him why he drove this odd sort of truck and he explained that his hobby was off road racing on motor bikes and when he went to a weekend event the bikes went in the back. “In fact I’m going to a meeting this coming weekend. Would you like to come with me?” he asked. “Love to” I said.

“Good. Several of the blokes bring their girl-friends so you will have company” Then he went on to say that the weather forecast was bad for the weekend – very wet which was great for racing but it would get pretty muddy as the track was in a valley and went up and down its sides and through a couple of streams. “Better bring some good wet weather gear and a couple of changes of clothes as you will be sure to need it”

I asked if my PVC cycle gear would be okay and he said that it would be okay in an emergency if I had nothing better. You really need a good rubber mack with a hood and some stout wellies or thigh boots.

In town there was a store that sold outdoor workwear. I called there on the day before we were due to go and bought a pair of rubber hip waders, two pairs of black PVC trousers, two shiny black heavy PVC ¾ length jackets and a matching sou’wester.

I told my Mum where I was going that weekend and was surprised when she said that my Dad used to ride in similar stuff back in the fifties and that she used to go with him most times. She fished down a bag from the loft and gave it to me. “It has my gear from then” she said. “You might find some of the stuff useful” .

Dave picked me up in the truck next morning. He had two bikes and a large canvas bag in the back. I put my bag behind the seats and off we went.

The event was in Central Wales. As we journeyed westwards the clouds got darker and darker and soon it was pouring down and it continued to do so all weekend.

Stupid me! When we arrived at the site I thought that there would some accommodation but there wasn’t. Just a very muddy field, a few trees and bushes and a couple of chemical toilets.

“Better get dressed for the rain. I need some help to put up the tent” said Dave. “Where do I sleep? In the tent with me, what else did you expect? At least a B&B” I replied “I’ve not got a sleeping bag or anything else for camping”

“Well, what have you got in the big bag of yours?”

“My yellow PVC cycle cape and sou’wester, a couple of tops and a change of underwear and my rubber riding boots”

“Is that all?”

“Well, no. I’ve also got two new shiny black PVC jackets and trousers, a black sou’wester and a pair of black rubber hip waders, all of which I got from that workwear shop in town”

“You’ll be fine then. You won’t need anything else”

“What about food?” A mobile canteen will be along soon and will stay for the weekend.

Better make the best of it, I thought.

I put on my cape, hat and boots and we struggled to get the tent against the rain and a developing westerly wind. It took half-an-hour to get it erect and secure. That’s the tent I’m talking about, nothing else!. That tent was tiny, about 6ft long and 4ft wide, a pole at each end and a ground sheet.

With the tent up, I needed a pee. “Go behind those bushes over there, we reserve the chemical toilets for serious stuff” said Dave. “Don’t be shy, we all do it girls and blokes together”

I crouched behind the bushes covering as much of myself as I could with my cape. I was in mid pee when a bloke walked up and stood alongside me. “You new here? A bit wet today isn’t it?” he greeted me.

He took a sly turn towards me and peed all over my cape and hat. “Whoops. Sorry” he said. “Don’t worry, it will soon wash off in this rain” I replied. “With that attitude you’ll get on fine with the rest of us” and he left me to it.

I guessed that I wouldn’t be needing my knickers for the rest of the weekend.

The mobile canteen turned up and we ate at eight. By that time there were about 50 tents erected on the site and around eighty people present, more men that girls but even so there were about thirty girls. Most of the men wore Belstaff or Black Knight biking clothing and all of the girls wore waterproofs of some sort, all with boots or waders. Clearly, many of the girls were familiar with more than one of the blokes and there was a lot of snogging going on. Dave made no attempt to protect me from anybody and many of the blokes wanted to know who I was; several went in for a snog and a few felt me up.

One guy slipped a hand up my cape. “Hey guys. This one’s got no knickers or anything under the cape”

They were all over me like the proverbial rash as soon as they found out that I was ‘easily taken’. About a dozen carted me off behind the bushes and I was dumped on the ground where I had peed earlier. Clearly a number of others had peed there since me and suddenly a dozen more were peeing but it was all over my cape and boots.

One dropped to his knees between my boots and effectively raped me in front of his mates. It was pointless protesting and I have to admit that I was starting to enjoy the experience of my first gangbang by the time that No.3 was on top of me. All of the unattached blokes had me that night and a few of the attached ones too – they said that it was my initiation into the ‘club’. I crawled back to Dave’s tent in the early hours feeling very sore. “Been initiated then?” he asked, “Now it’s my turn for giving you a weekend away”. He took me there and then in my wet cape rolled off me and fell asleep.

I could hear the rain hammering down all night and in the morning there were puddles everywhere and still it rained heavily.

I put on my new PVC jacket, sou’wester and my riding boots and trudged off to the chemical toilets for my morning constitutional. There was a queue waiting in the rain. One of the girls said “I hear that they got you for an initiation last night. They got me the first time that I came and after that all the guys reckoned that I was fair game for any of them whenever they wanted me. So now you will be on their ‘wanted list’ too.

When I got back from the loos Dave had got the two bikes off the truck. I noticed that one had a pillion seat to take a second rider and the other had a flimsy side-car contraption which seemed odd.

I didn’t think more about the bikes until we had had breakfast at the mobile canteen and returned to the truck.

“Put your hip waders on and I’ll take you round the race track on the pillion to see what it is like”

We set off across the field. The bike slewed about a bit on the mud and a bit started to splash on my new boots and jacket. Then we came to a drop down into a valley. The bike raced down the hill with mud flying everywhere. I could feel it hitting my back where it was flying up from the back wheel.

At the bottom of the hill we turned left and Dave gunned the engine as we raced straight into a stream running in a gulley. We turned to go along the stream and it was uneven and quite deep in places. The water came over my knees and I was glad that I had my waders on. Suddenly the engine spluttered and stopped. “Get off and push” said Dave. The water was almost to the top of my waders.

We got to a bend in the stream and there was a track going uphill. It looked very muddy and steep.

Dave got the engine going again and told me to walk up the track behind him to be ready to push if he got stuck. With the engine racing and the back wheel spinning mud was flying everywhere but mostly over me. I was covered in the stuff.

Once at the top Dave told me to get back on the saddle and off we went around a twisty track in a field. Soon I could see that we were getting near to the valley again. “Hold on” shouted Dave as we plunged headlong down the hillside and straight across the stream in a great shower of muddy water, then up the other side with more flying mud and back into the field where we had started.

“This morning all the guys will be practising round that course and then we will have five heats of ten bikes racing round. At the end of the afternoon the fastest twenty will race off in one big ten lap charge. You’ll be on the back of my bike racing alongside the rest”

“Oh Joy” I thought.

Came the afternoon. Dave and I were in the second heat. We lined up at the start tape with nine other couples. We were all already covered in mud and the track was now worse that when Dave and I practised on it in the morning. What’s more, the rain was still pouring down.

Off we went. Dave and I were in third place when we hit the stream first time round. If anything, the stream was deeper now than it was in the morning. It had been churned up by the first heat riders and now, with other bikes around us the water was splashing over my knees and up to the top of my waders. The two bikes in front of us both stopped with dead engines and we crashed into them which made me fall off into the water. I got soaked but the mud washed off in the water.

I got to my feet and started to push our bike along the stream towards the exit. A couple of other bikes managed to keep going and sprayed me as they passed. Once on the bank Dave got the engine going again and revved it up as he slithered up the hill with me pushing from behind. Nearly at the top and my boots slipped on the wet mud and I fell flat on my face. Dave laughed. Well, we got round and finished our heat in sixth place which put us nineteenth out of twenty qualified for the ten lap final.

Off we went in the final. There was a big pile up in the stream but, being almost last at that point, Dave managed to avoid stopping and we got passed. I pushed up the hill again and by the top we were well ahead of all the others. With a clear track ahead Dave managed to keep going and by lap eight we started to pass the stragglers at the back. Still we kept going and ended up winners by more than a lap over everybody else.

It seemed that the prize for winning was getting thrown in the river. The girls chucked me in with an almighty splash. I struggled to the bank and pulled three of them in and fully ducked the one nearest to me before climbing out with water streaming down me inside and outside, not that it made much difference as I was already soaked from the rain and the racing. At least a lot of the mud was washed off me.

At eight o’clock we all met up for supper. With great imagination the mobile canteen was dishing up a barbeque in the pouring rain – soggy food for soggy people! Nobody seemed to mind. From inside the canteen some crates of beer appeared. It was amazing how the mood changed after a few beers each.

I got up to go for a pee behind the bushes and accidentally bumped into another girl.

“Don’t shove me” she shouted and tripped me up by putting a wellie between my waders. On the way down I grabbed her yellow PVC coat and pulled her down with me.

“Fight. Fight” went the cry as we fell in the mud. I grabbed her hood and rolled her over and under me face down. She tried to knee me in the crotch but I knocked her aside and grabbed the waist band of her PVC trousers. In a flash I had them down to the top of her wellies to reveal her naked nether region. I pulled my own waist band down just enough to let me pee on her as she lay in the mud. Then I felt it.

A jet of piss hit the back of my jacket, just one to start with. I quickly pulled my trousers back up before another jet of piss hit me, then another and another. Even Dave was pissing on me. None of the piss was getting through my PVC jacket and trousers but I was getting it in the face and even under my sou’wester.

Looking up, I saw an erect cock. The eye opened and a gusher of spunk hit me in the face. I heard the cry “Gang Bang her”. Dave stood back and let them get on with it. I think that the Japanese call it Bukkake, loads of spunk all over me from lots of blokes. It rained down on me from both sides. It was all over my lovely PVC jacket and trousers but they kept the stuff out except for my face and hair. Surprisingly, nobody tried to get inside my trousers and fuck me. It was left to Dave to do that when we got back to the tent.

Sunday morning dawned wet. Very wet. Very, very wet.

There was water everywhere and it was still raining.

After breakfast at the canteen Dave said that we should get some practice in on the sidecar. Sidecar? Well, it was a sort of frame with a flat board seat, a handle for hanging on and one un-sprung wheel.

Dave showed me how to hang on and hang my body out to keep the contraption balanced and on the ground. Then we had a go round a fairly flat bit of the field. After we had gone round a few times and I had managed not to fall off despite my wet clothes slipping on the seat and it being hard to grip the handle Dave decided to try the track proper.

Off we went down into the valley and we turned into the stream. I had to keep my head up to prevent it going under water. This I managed to do but the rest of me was submerged. My waders were filled and water got into all my waterproofs. On this one dunking I learned that waterproofs simply aren’t waterproof. If you can get a body in you can get water in.

The level of the stream had risen considerably overnight and it was decided not to try to race through it. So all the days racing took place in the quagmire that just yesterday had been the field on the high side of the race track. When it came to racing on the field it was like going through a wall of flying mud as each bike threw mud high in the air from its back wheel. Mud which just splattered down on all the other bikes and riders.

The racing was abandoned and the bikes put away. Then everybody jumped in the stream to get as much mud off their clothes and themselves as possible.

Somebody said “That’s the end of a perfect weekend”. I’m not sure that I thought it perfect but I did agree to go to another meeting with Dave again. In fact, I went to three before I went off to Uni at Sheffield. I contacted Dave at the end of my first time and found that he had another girl in tow. In truth I was not really disappointed as I had Marco and was getting all the fetish sex that I needed.

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Re: Moto Cross Experiences

Post by hotwilly » June 6th, 2018, 7:32 am

Sounds a proper " dirty weekend"
Thanks for writing it
Broad minded enough to acknowledge we all enjoy different things:)

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Joined: January 19th, 2010, 3:25 pm
Location: Herefordshire, UK

Re: Moto Cross Experiences

Post by JanetandNick » July 9th, 2018, 10:14 am

Lovely story!
Nick and I love meeting other rainwear enthusiasts

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