Cycling Club's Naked Milestone - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Sophia surprised me with a full cycling outfit for our weekend trip. At first, I wondered if she'd accidentally clicked the wrong option online—because what arrived was a schoolgirl-style cycling set.
But my confusion turned to shock when Sophia texted me a photo of her own cycling gear. At first glance, it looked like standard equipment, but then I noticed the... unconventional design choices. Let's just say it was built for thrill-seekers.
I stared at my phone screen, speechless, before sending her three question marks in reply.
Sophia's response came with a mischievous tone: "You don't get it yet. This is where the magic happens."
"Picture this," she continued. "Every little pebble on the trail, every bump in the road—combined with the right kind of freedom? Absolute bliss."
She added, "Yours is actually the tame version. I figured you might not be ready for my level of... enthusiasm."
Her wild idea left me equal parts horrified and intrigued. Against my better judgment, her vivid description sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Suddenly, tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.
The next morning, Sophia showed up at my door before sunrise. Her car was packed, bikes folded neatly in the trunk.
"We're hitting a special spot," she said, tossing me an energy drink. "It's a long drive—catch some sleep. I'll wake you when we're there."
After spending half the night overthinking her words, exhaustion hit me hard. I slumped into the passenger seat and drifted off.
I woke to Sophia shaking my shoulder. Blinking sleep from my eyes, I looked out the window—nothing but wilderness in every direction.
"Welcome to paradise," she announced. "Private mountain property, courtesy of the club's founder. The downside? It's remote. The upside?" She grinned. "Zero witnesses."
As we stepped out, she gave my schoolgirl skirt an amused once-over.
"Fair warning—mountain winds get feisty, and the terrain's rough. Buckle up for a unique ride."
Her laughter followed me as we unloaded the bikes. Within minutes, I understood exactly what she meant by "special fun."
The uneven path made every pedal stroke an adventure. Sophia, meanwhile, looked like she was born for this—cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Who knew my usually polished best friend had this side to her? If I hadn't spilled my post-breakup guts to her last month, I might never have found out.
Soon, we reached the club's base camp—a clearing with two large tents and, unexpectedly, a steaming hot spring.
Four men emerged to greet us. Sophia made introductions, lingering on the founder—Vincent.
"Vincent, meet Jessica," she said, biting her lip in that way she does when scheming. "Be gentle with her—it's her first time."
I offered an awkward wave as their eyes traveled over both of us.
"Sophia," one murmured appreciatively, "that outfit was made for you..."
His hand found her waist with practiced ease.