Chloe's Getting Dirty Again

This story continues the timeline from "Riding With Dirty Girls," and Chloe's other five cycling series'. You can probably get something out of the sex scenes in isolation, but for the full background, you ideally need to have read the other series' first, though I realise that's a mammoth task.

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 Getting Dirty Again Part 1

Cyclocross was my first love. It wasn't the first sport I dabbled in, but it was the first one I fell properly in love with. The first one that put all the previous ones firmly on the back-burner.

At school, I enjoyed athletics, and especially winter cross-country. I loved running in mud, and getting properly mucky. I even started dabbling in fell-running -- a particularly British sport of running up and down hills and mountains -- mainly as a way to extend my muddy footprints into summer.

This was all good fun, and I even showed some promise, winning a junior girls race at Grasmere when I was 14, but then Dad bought me a mountain bike and I started riding it to school.

I realised what great fun it was, riding the bike. It was better than running. It had things that running lacked. An element of skill, and the thrill and exhilaration of speed. Even a reckless descent of a rough Lake District fell side couldn't match it.

I also found I was good at it. A few of us used to take off-road shortcuts on our way home from school, splashing through puddles, swishing up leaves, and carving through turns on narrow paths round the back of the playing fields, and I always had the measure of my mates, even the boys. Not just in bike-handling skills, but in sheer performance as well. I seemed to have a talent.

By the time I was 16, I was thinking maybe I'd do some MTB racing. A perfect blend of my off-road running and biking.

At 16, I was old enough to ride a moped, and I could easily have been seduced by motorised transport, maybe even ended up in motocross or something, but I wasn't interested. I loved my bike too much.

I was watching MTB racing on the telly, and pestering my dad to help me buy a proper racing mountain bike, but then he took me to a cyclocross race.

Dad had done some cyclocross as a youngster (it's a much older sport than mountain bike) and he still had some enthusiasm for it. Little did he know what he was starting that day when he took me to the Hope Supercross race at Clitheroe.

I loved it. I loved the atmosphere, i loved the excitement of the racing, I loved the mud, the cold, the bikes... Everything.

The bikes intrigued me. They looked like road bikes, with drop bars and skinny wheels, but here they were, being raced over terrain where you might expect to see mountain bikes. It had a different look than mountain bike racing and, as I know now, a different feel. I was hooked.

In the car on the way home, my gabble was faster than the speed of sound. I was breathless with talking, and breathless with excitement. I had to have a go.

Dad looked at me and grinned. 'It's really grabbed you, this, hasn't it?'

'Yes, Dad. It's brilliant!'

'Well we'd better get you a 'cross bike then.'

'Really? YAAAY!

Within a month, I had my very own (second-hand) cyclo-cross bike, and a month after that, I was sitting on the start line of a local junior race at Bellfield Park -- in the pouring rain.

I finished 6th out of the 18 girls in the race, covered from head to toe in mud. I didn't care about the rain. I finished the race beaming from ear to ear. I loved every single second of it.

That sixth place was seen as an extremely promising debut, and in my next race, I was fourth. My first win came in race number 5, and people in the sport started to take notice. I was spoken of as a promising youngster, who might have a great future in this sport.

Turned out they were right. The very next winter I finished runner-up in the British Junior Championship race, and a year after that, became European Junior Cyclocross Champion. And all this with just support from my brilliant dad, and my cousins Philip and Joanne.

I was even self-coached, but all this was about to change.

We were cleaning my bike (my one and only bike) after the race, with brushes and a bucket of water -- there was no Fanny Jetwash to rely on back then, when a tall, good-looking woman in a yellow puffer jacket came up and introduced herself.

'Hi Chloe, I'm Molly.'

Molly Koppen. OMG. She was a legend of classics and 'cross, and she'd come to talk to me! I stood up and offered her a muddy hand, which she declined. She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek instead.

'That was another impressive win, Chloe. I think you have a professional career ahead of you, if you want it.' My "team" and I were all standing there slack-jawed as she went on, 'I want to offer to coach you. I believe you are headed for great things, and I want to be part of it.'

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was only just sinking in that I was European Champion, and now here was Molly Koppen offering to be my coach.

'Er, wow, Molly... thank you...but...

She continued, 'I'll do it for nothing, until you have a contract, and I'll also help with that. I already know teams that have their eyes on you. Is it a deal?

We were all standing there, grinning and nodding.

That was it. Molly Koppen was going to be my coach. I was going to be a professional cyclist, and the rest, as they say, is history.

***

Autumn Colours

That was nearly five years ago and, if you've read the other parts of my story, you'll know where five years of Molly's coaching has led me. And not just coaching; Molly is so much more to me.

I'll always be grateful to my cousins and my dad for their support in my early years. Mum too, though her support was more a matter of not opposing my mad trajectory.

Having family behind me gave me the launch I needed, but it was my association with Molly, and the fledgling Team Lyon, that rocketed me to my current level of undreamed-of success.

As summer '23 drew to a close, I was flying high. As well as being Cyclocross World Champion, I had also become a successful road racer, both in classics, and in stage races.

The road World Championships were in September, with the Euros immediately after, and I expect most people were expecting me to do them as a matter of course, but I wasn't really inclined.

I'd had a long and very successful season, and I was both tired and satisfied with what I'd achieved. I was aware that there must be a limit to my streak of form, and the Worlds and Euros just felt like a bridge too far.

I had long phone conversations with Molly, and my Directeur Sportif, Robbie, and both concurred with my thinking.

I thought the World Championship road race would probably end in a bunch sprint, and in that situation I would be at a disadvantage to riders like Marieke Vox and Jude Choon, maybe even Mae Snijders, who Molly also coached and who was rapidly emerging as one of the world's best sprinters.

In the time trial, I knew I could be competitive, but my fatigue from the season would probably mean I'd be unlikely to produce a sparkling performance like I had in the Tour de France Femmes.

Also, the champs were being held in Australia, and I thought how great it would be if my team mate Tera could win the rainbow jersey, on home soil, while wearing the Australian champion's colours.

She wouldn't have it easy, of course. She'd be up against the likes of Canada's Jenny Lenet, Lucy van Barle of The Netherlands, and the italian Leona Breva, but she was the raining champion, and she'd have home advantage.

So, I was not going to travel to Australia for the Worlds, nor to Spain for the Euros. Instead, I was going to stay in Scotland and chill out ready for the 'cross season.

The Worlds panned out as expected; the road race was won in a sprint finish by Jude Choon, and Tera retained her time-trial title by 7 seconds over Jenny Lenet.

My absence was questioned many times in the cycling press, but whenever I was asked why I hadn't gone I cited fatigue from a long season.

I did consider doing the Euros, but decided to skip them too in the end. I was pleased to see that Lucy won her first major time trial title, and that Mae got a silver in the road race (behind Marieke) -- another fillip for her, and for Molly as her coach.

So, I missed out on titles I could perhaps have won, but I wasn't worried. I was only 23. I had plenty of time to chase those titles.

My road race season was officially wrapped up at a team get-together in Maastricht, and it was bittersweet to see all the girls again, most of whom I wouldn't see again until the start of next season.

Of this team, only Helen was a regular 'cross rider, but now that she and Marlen were together again, she had persuaded Marlen to give 'cross a go. She wouldn't be in the same 'cross team as us though, having signed with the new team, Mammut-Petzl. She'd thus be teammates with Carmen Odara and the French girls, Lauren and Magi. Interesting.

Back home in Scotland, I spent some time just chilling out, and allowing myself to recover, physically and mentally, ready for the coming winter season.

I didn't really have much of a plan for the season. The obvious thing would be to defend my World Cup title. I'd won that by concentrating solely on the World Cup races, but there were also other major series running through the winter, like the Exact Cross, the Superprestige, and the X2O Trofee, with some very tempting prize money on offer.

I fancied doing some different races, but I was wary of trying to do too much. Carmen once did that and ended up burnt out and needing an extended rest. I decided to have a chat with Sharon, the DS of my Febi-SRAM cyclocross team, about it, in case the team had some specific targets for me.

'Hi Sharon, how are you? I wanted to have a chat about the 'cross season.. '

'Hey, Chloe, I'm good thanks... Wow, congratulations on your road season. Fantastic. You're a bit of a superstar now. Are you sure you still want to ride for our humble little cyclocross team?'

'Thank you, but I'm still the same old Chloe. I still love 'cross, and I still want to get dirty with the girls.'

'Mmm, I bet you do, but let's just talk about 'cross for now, hm?'

Gotta love Sharon. She's as straight as a die, but she's well-aware of the "free girls," and quite mischievous when it comes to making little jokes and suggestive comments sometimes. I think she might be a little jealous really.

We talked about options for mixing up a few races from different series'. Surprisingly, Sharon didn't push me in any particular direction. I think, with my new status, she was just glad to have me racing in Febi-SRAM colours again, because, let's face it, her main job is keeping the sponsors happy, and just having me on the team was very good publicity now.

She was fine with keeping our previous arrangement, where I have my own private support team ("Team Lyon") and she just said. 'I think we should leave it to Molly to decide your programme, Chloe. She has the experience.'

So, I called Molly and, just like I'd done with the Spring Classics, I asked her to come up with a list of races, cherry-picked from all the series.'

'I don't mind doing an occasional two-race weekend, but don't make it too demanding... well, you know what you're doing Mol.'

'Do you want to defend your World Cup title? I mean, is it a priority?'

I pondered for a minute... 'Well that would be nice, but not a priority, no. I can't have everything.'

'You know, from my point of view, there's a major gap in your 'cross palmarés,' she said.

'Is there?'

'Yes, you've never done the Koppenbergcross.'

Of course. Molly's hill. I'd ridden up it with her many times, and raced up it in the Tour of Flanders, but I'd never done the 'cross. It was a glaring omission.

'Yeh, true. Put it on the list.'

The Koppenbergcross starts with a full ascent of the infamous cobbled hill -- one of the hardest starts in the whole of cyclocross -- before turning onto a course that is tough, but probably not as tough as the World Cup Namur race.

It only does the FULL Koppenberg climb once, at the start. Subsequent laps join it about halfway up, which I always think is a shame. If the whole climb were to be included on every lap... Now that would be REALLY tough.

It would be easy enough to include it, but I guess the worry is that too many riders would end up walking, and nobody wants a bike race to be decided on foot.

Anyway, I left Molly to come up with a list, and I went to get one of my trusty training bikes out of the garage for a gentle ride on my gentle local hills, with mellow early autumn sunshine, and a little soft September mist.

***

Back To The Mud

The Koppenbergcross was at the beginning of November, and it was no surprise that it was at the head of Molly's list. I was actually surprised that she hadn't suggested it before, it being "her hill" and so close to her house, but I guess we were concentrating on the World Cup and, surprisingly, the Koppenbergcross was not a World Cup race. It was part of the X2O Trofee series, which had never been on my radar, really.

At the end of October, I flew to Brussels and met up with my girlfrend Licia and Molly, and we drove back to Molly's house in Waregem. To my delight, Fanny and Marianne were both there for a pre-race Team Lyon get-together.

Molly had made a stoofpot (of course) and I had a rare feeling of well-being as we sat around the table eating and yakking about 'cross, and the races on Molly's list.

Licia had a list of races too, but it didn't quite match mine, which was a bit of a shame. In fact, she'd only be doing four races out of the ten on Molly's list, so we'd be like "ships that pass" for some of the winter. D'oh.

"I really envy you the support of these three, Chloe, Team Lyon,' said Licia, 'I have to rely on the Trek-Schwalbe lot. I mean, they're OK, but I don't get pampered like you do.

'Yeh, int I lucky.' I grinned.

After her victory in the Holland Ladies Tour, Licia had (with Marianne's help) successfully renegotiated her contract with her Insta-Schwalbe road team but, like me, her cyclocross contract had remained unchanged, though she was now regarded as No.1 in her team.

After we'd eaten, I went down into the garage to look at my 'cross bikes. My beauties. I love my 'cross bikes. I have a relationship with them that I've never had with my team road bikes, or even my trusty training bikes, even though I probably spend more time riding the latter than any of the others.

There they were, four gleaming Canyon Inflite Carbon Cross models, in dazzling yellow and blue, immaculately prepared by our mechanic, Joss, and looking simply stunning.

I know, they were soon going to suffer in the most horrific conditions, but now, here they were in their full pre-season glory and looking every inch the "things o purpose" they definitely were, to use a quaint Lancashire expression.

I felt a little thrill, just looking at them, and I ran my fingers over the brand-new bar tape, so meticulously installed by Joss.

Licia poked her head in. "Come on, give it up with your bike fetish. We're having coffee.'

We sat and chatted, and I had a thrum of excitement building in me. Coming back to 'cross, and seeing my bikes had that effect, of course, but also being with these four women who I had immense affection for and who were all, in their own ways, marvellously sexy and stimulating. It was amazing to think I'd had sex with all of them, and probably would again.

'I can't believe you're still single, Marianne,' I said. She'd been "out" for nine months, and actively looking, but there seemed to be a distinct lack of thirty-something single lesbians in the vicinity of Ronse. I suspected she was being a little shy, and not putting herself "out there" enough. If she went to Brussels or Antwerp, she'd surely find someone. Anyway, there was no signs of a girlfriend at this point and I thought it was a shame.

'No, I haven't been lucky so far,' she said, a little wistfully.

'Not even a near-miss?' I probed. She shook her head.

I felt I was embarrassing her, so I moved onto lighter subjects, but I made a mental note to keep my eyes open for any opportunities for a little matchmaking this winter.

It was exciting to think about renewing my connections with "free girls" on the tour who I hadn't seen since the previous winter. I'd stayed close to Helen, Marlen, Maisie, Sabi, and of course the ever-lovely Lucy, but there were some who didn't pursue a road career and had thus been missed all summer.

There was Carmen and the French girls, Lauren and Magi, as well as my team mates Mari Springkells and young Annike Vachs, and I was looking forward to renewing my hookups with all of them.

There was also talk of Tifenn Maes returning for one last season of 'cross, at the age of 37, before she retired. Tif was a former European Champion in the discipline a decade earlier, but had given up cyclocross to concentrate on the road, and hadn't done any 'cross for a number of years.

She'd had this summer off completely, but people who knew her were saying she was coming back for a final winter, 'For old times' sake.'

She'd had a successful career. Not as successful as Molly, but there were some highlights, and it would definitely be interesting if the rumours were true and she came back for a cyclocross swansong.

The other interesting thing was, she was gay, though she'd always kept her love life firmly under wraps. Nobody was sure what her current "status" was, but there was one thing for sure -- I was going to find out.

It was looking like it could be a very interesting season.

I wasn't sure what the sleeping arrangements were going to be that night at Molly's, because the house only had two bedrooms, and there was an awkward number of us. I wondered if perhaps Mari was going to get a taxi home, but that wouldn't make sense because we were all travelling to Oudenaarde together in the morning for the race. I guessed that she was going to be consigned to the sofa.

I felt a bit sorry for her really. She'd discovered her Sapphic spirit and had some scintillating early experiences, but here she was, nine months later, still single and having to sleep on the sofa in the same house as two happy lesbian couples.

At bedtime, Molly got out a sheet, pillow and duvet and she and Marianne started making up the sofa into a bed. I pulled a sad face and said 'Aww, seems a shame, you having to sleep out here on your own, Mari.'

She put a brave face on it, saying 'Noo, I'm fine, I'm fine. You get off to bed.'

We did, but I was troubled. Licia and I hadn't had sex for quite a long time, but I couldn't concentrate on her. I was distracted, and I really didn't want to make any noise that Marianne might hear. That would be too horrible for her.

Licia was clearly horny. She wanted me desperately. I could tell by the way she kissed me, and I always respond to a Licia kiss, but this time my response was muted.

When she moved down to suck my nipples, I'd normally be all squirmy movements and moans of pleasure, but I was silent and almost motionless.

She lifted her head. 'What's up babe? Don't you want...?

I put my arms around her and squeezed. 'Sorry, babe, it's not you. Of course I want you. It's just... the situation.

We heard a moan from Molly's room.

'You're bothered about Mari aren't you?'

I nodded. 'She must feel really left out... Sorry babe, it's not fair on you.'