second cycling trip

While I was coming home, over the hill, I ran out of breath, and I had to stop for a moment. I leaned the bike against a tree, and set off straight into the thick of the forest. Everything was very white around me, and some unknown whiteness was drifting from the sky. All along, I felt like someone was holding my hand. I also heard a female voice, as if she had shouted after me “Zoli, Zoli”, but when I looked back I didn’t see anyone. Then I remembered the incident from yesterday, and suddenly the blood ran out of my brain. I felt an irresistible desire to touch myself, and I did so. I was rough and firm. I came quickly. At the end I embraced the first tree and wiped my wet palm into its cortex. On the way back I met a man who must have been going to steal some trees, I nodded to him, but he didn’t deign to answer me.

first cycling trip

I had a bread roll and two apples for breakfast. While I was peeling off the skin of the fruit, the knife blade glinted in the sun, and for a second my face reflected in it. I looked at it, but in the first moment I didn’t recognize myself. Today I worked a lot, and it was only late at night when I managed to arrange everything. In the evening I went for a ride with my bicycle, the moon was shining on me, it was cold, but I didn’t feel it for a minute. When I finished the round, my heart leapt because it felt like someone was thinking of me strongly. For a moment my voice faltered, and memories began to appear, I don’t know where from. But all of them were deep, and painfully beautiful. While taking a bath, I discovered a small thorn in my left forefinger, then I sucked it until all trace of it was gone forever. Last night I dreamed of a chapel, I had to pray on my knees a lot to calm my soul. Women ran around me in black scarves, and grinned at me with their bad teeth. But finally I escaped.

fifteenth cycling trip

Lead by a sudden impulse, I hop on my bike and set off for wherever the road takes me. I have no destination, but I do have a goal: to find Zoli, wherever he is. I ride in the snow for hours, lights come towards me, and people shake their fists at me, but nothing interests me, I just pedal steadily ahead. I rove over the familiar places, the parks, the groves; I ramble all the places where I have been with Zoli, where Zoli took my hand, where Zoli tickled my tongue with his tongue, where I could lay my head on Zoli’s shoulder. And I know that I am right, and not my husband. Zoli certainly does exist, and it’s not just me imagining him for myself. And I remember how much emotion, how much beauty, how much care, how much kindness he brought into my life. I cut across hedge and ditch, and I am sure that I’ll find him somewhere. Then, everything goes black, and when I come round again, I have bruises all over my arms and legs, I ache all over, there are thorns and leaves in my hair, I don’t remember anything. But I do know that the bite on my thigh comes from him. The snowflakes cover my body slowly, and slowly everything becomes white around me.

...

I think I have a minute left to write. What can I write in this time that I haven’t already written? Maybe just that I love you. Although I have written it many times recently, even though I’m not used to writing it down, nor to saying it, but you should know that whenever I write it, always and again I feel only that I really love you a lot, and I have never, and perhaps I will never, love anyone like this. And it ends here. It’s starting to get very cold.

accidental cycling

On Saturday morning, a bike cut through in front of a camera of the UTV at the M1-M7 entrance section. An unknown cyclist appeared in the photos on the double four-lane road. There is no video of the action, dangerous to the public as well as to the cyclist, but there is a photo.

Around 8:30 in the morning on Budaörs road a cyclist is hurriedly veering across two lanes, while the public transport bus, and two apparently fast moving cars, are on the snowy road. Because of the camera’s angle, it’s not sure whether, after having climbed the crush barriers, the cyclist reached the other side of the road unharmed, but no accidents were reported in the neighborhood.

http://kerekagy.blog.hu/2010/01/30/bringas_amokfuto_az_m1_m7_esen

fourteenth cycling trip

When I look in the mirror, I see Zoli in my eyes. The moon was already up when we met today, with pleasure I forgot my own name for a moment, and mistakenly said “Agnes”. Yet I did open the window so that Zoli could come in more easily. I strongly caught hold of him by the collar so he wouldn’t fall off the sill, I pulled him to myself, and even if it was an impossible situation, I moved so that he came as soon as possible. Then I let him go, and I thought, sometimes he doesn’t even know that I always see him. It felt like saliva on the edge of my mouth, but when I reached for it with my handkerchief, a line of blood remained on my finger.

thirteenth cycling trip

Today my husband asked me if I was still in love with Zoli the Turk. I answered with a 'no'. But if he knew where I am not hiding Zoli, even he would be surprised. Sometimes I make him creep out from the inside of my coat, and sometimes from the folds of my skirt. Because I can make him come forward at any time, the good God heard my prayers. He showed me the way to Zoli: I found him high up there, and I haven't let him go since. Once, a long time ago, I cycled up the hill. I remember, nothing could keep me back, neither the cold, nor the meters of snow, nor the fear of my husband. Zoli was sitting in the room, staring in front of himself, but then he saw me, and without a word he jerked me in. Immediately he fell to me, right away he stuck his tongue in my mouth, and after having undressed me he stuck it in my cunt too, and he kept licking until he sucked out the last drop of cunt juice. I felt then, for the first time, that my common sense was lost. Since then it has been a few times.

twelfth cycling trip

Sometimes I think Zoli is only a dream. Yet every single moment I feel his taste in my mouth, and every single moment I feel his hardness between my legs. And I feel his tongue as it strokes me, his teeth as they bite me, sometimes gently, sometimes roughly, and I feel his eyes on me the most, even though I know that no-one else can see what I see: with his eyes he follows my every move.

eleventh cycling trip

When Zoli appeared today, my husband was sitting opposite of me. We were burning cedar, his eyes glowed, and I was afraid that he’ll take out the whip again. By the way, I haven’t even told you yet how I call you. Clara. My name is Clara. And it does make a difference what you lay on: a cheep stick or a smart chick, keep that in mind. And I adore you, have I already told you that today? Have I? You know: my memory, that is you.

eleventh cycling trip

Sometimes, I don’t know myself what is real and what is only imagined. Today Zoli came, he seated me on the back seat and we were going for a ride with his bike. Then he threw me to the ground, pulled down my skirt, my stockings and my knickers, bent down between my legs, and excited me with his tongue until I came from delight. It took a long time, but Zoli’s patience didn’t flag. When I climaxed, everything around me stopped for a moment, I saw only distant lights shining, and I knew I was in heaven. I don’t know whether it was the future, the past or the present, but the way that Zoli stood there in front of me, it was as certain as death.

tenth cycling trip

“I am the only one among many in your harem, do not deny it”, I told Zoli today, but he just shook his head. The end of the day came, and instead of spanking me, he kissed my forehead.

Zoli drives a car

Zoli's jumped in the car, and then suddenly dashed away. He didn’t say, but I knew, I wouldn’t see him for days. I also knew he was going far away. And I was afraid that he would never come back. I would have gladly sat behind him on the back seat, and never ever have get out. I thought about getting on my bike and setting out after him, but he didn’t even tell me where he was going. I just wiped my eyes, because dust got into it. At least I thought that that's what I'd say if someone asked me. But no-one asked, because I was alone all day. I haven’t seen my husband either. It was dark and very cold. It could have been minus ten. I tried knocking on the door, hoping someone heard it, but the walls echoed only “Zoliii, I miss youu, Zoli I miss youuu”.

eighth cycling trip

Today, Zoli suddenly dropped in to our place. Fortunately, my husband wasn't at home. I was so surprised that I almost fell back but luckily Zoli caught me in time. He said that today there will be a concert in the house. And a whole orchestra will be present. All kinds of musical instruments. I just stared at him wondering what he meant. But he just said: wind, string, plucking, spinning instruments, percussion. No keyboard instruments because he knows that I don't like them. Bassoon, pipe, lute, harp, guitar, violin, flute, and whatever I can imagine. And he alone would play every instrument. But instead of real instruments Zoli used my body. First he took me out of the case. Each of his touches, as he tipped me, made a beautiful tone out of me. My voice became the music. And he played so, but so, but so that everyone could envy him. And Zoli plucked, Zoli blew, Zoli sucked, Zoli stringed, Zoli bowed, Zoli spun, Zoli beat. He played music to my ears. I only regret that never ever can anyone else hear this music. Neither the clicks, nor the stampings, nor the oral bass nor the oboe playing. The mouth whistles, the tongue fifes. They can't see the drumming, the playing of the bow, or the sextets. I didn't know that I was so keen on music before. And on Zoli of course.

seventh cycling trip

I woke up on the floor, all day I was lying crashed to the floor. I also had a few near-death experiences, I think. I read everything I had ever written, but only one sentence kept repeating itself in me over and over again, like a stuck gramophone record:

Zoli, you stabbed me in the heart well enough!

sixth cycling trip

They are ringing the midnight bells when I can’t stand it any more. I open the window and run away to Zoli. I go through the gardens so nobody sees me, but I have no luck: the lamp is on, at Zoli’s place I see his husband’s shadow gliding several times. Yet I get lucky. When I peep through the fence, Zoli is grooming a big black steed, the sweat foams on the horse, Zoli reaches to the horse’s foaming mouth, then puts his hand to his own mouth. I can hardly control my fingers. But then I wake up. It was just a dream again. They said that the other day too. And again, I wake up. And I see Zoli grooming a big black steed. I feel a salty taste in my mouth. I miss my bike. I certainly remember that.

fifth cycling trip

For a moment, when I stepped out of the church, I didn’t know which way to take further. I was sure that I wouldn’t get home on time, that my husband would beat me up again, that he would stuff me with pills again, that he would lock me in the basement again, and again I would have to listen to him shouting for days. But after my secret confession I felt so clean that there was no way I could stand my husband's company. I heard the women whispering behind my back, but I didn’t care, I hadn’t cared for a long time what they said about me, I stuck my tongue out at most, and then sprang on my bike and I flew happily to my love. But my bike was gone again, so I didn’t rush anywhere, thus I decided to go back to church and pray until my God helps me. I don’t know how many prayers I could have said, but I'm sure that a lot, because I even dozed off from the ongoing murmuring. When I started up, I felt that someone was fumbling behind me, and already he was raising my skirt, and his tool was already starting to enter me, and he was already in me, and it was becoming harder and harder and harder. And suddenly the stars sparkled for me too, although through the glass vitrage I could clearly see that the light was still shining on us.

forth cycling trip

And at the church I had the following thoughts:

I confess to almighty God and to you my brethren, that I have sinned exceedingly by thought, word, deed and omission, because every morning, noon, evening, I prayed badly, and I just prayed every morning, noon and night that I may cycle with Zoli only, I cursed several times a day when I couldn’t see Zoli, or when he wasn’t with me, I swore on lies just that he be with me, all the tools I used so he has only me, I have only him, I deliberately looked for the path to sin, I didn’t go to the Holy Mass, because I was cycling with Zoli then too, I cycled during every Holy Mass. But I’m lying, because I did go to church too, but then, also, only Zoli was on my mind, I couldn’t think of anything else, just Zoli, Zoli the Turk, and our cycling trips; I made jokes of sacred things, I was bad at church, even there I didn’t adore God, but Zoli, I lied to my husband too, I didn’t obey him, I didn’t help him, I answered back to him because he didn’t let me be with Zoli, I escaped, I escaped to him, I tricked everyone, I argued, I mocked, I tempted Zoli to sin too, because I wanted him to be a pig with me, because I wanted him to whisper dirty words in my ear, because I wanted him to touch my cunt, and meanwhile I didn’t take care of anything, not even my health, I just wanted Zoli shamelessly, I looked at him shamelessly, I spoke about Zoli shamelessly, I played with Zoli shamelessly; and I stole for him, I cheated for him, I caused harm for him, I stole from others for him, my duty was only Zoli, Zoli the Turk, I didn’t pay attention to anything else, I lied and lied and lied, and I fornicated and fornicated and fornicated, I fornicated often, and I was always selfish, because I constantly wanted Zoli only for myself, only for myself, always, constantly, all the time, from morning to morning, from evening to evening, and I was greedy, I was envious, and I wanted only Zoli. But yet I am heartily sorry for all my sins, and I firmly resolve to strive only for good.

And the good is Zoli the Turk.

third cycling trip

No matter what I had promised, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to write to Zoli:

"You were on time. As always. I was late. Even though I tried hard. You popped up out of the darkness. And I had to conceal the cigarette smoke somehow. You don’t like cigarette smoke. But I looked in vain for anything in my bag, I found only a candy bar, because there's always something with me in case of emergency. I was sucking at it even when you lead me by the hand into the building. You were just looking. Looking at it. Secretly you wished that it would be your dick in my mouth. You kissed me. It was so delicious as you sucked in my tongue. Our kissing is perfect. Always, every time. It’s by the book. Passionate, sensual. As if this was the mission of our tongues on Earth, to keep playing with each other. You felt the sweet taste of the candy on my tongue, while you were caressing my breasts. First the left one, then the right, then both. You also discussed with my bra to get out of the way, the naked flesh was already in your hands. You know all about it. You tuned in to what is good for me from the very first moment. Someone has already asked me if you were a real man or not. I would never admit that I have never had a better one. You stuck your hand between my legs. I love it when you stick your hand between my legs. But I also love it when it makes circles on my left tit, or when I can suck at your fingers, or when you hold my hair up, or when you stroke my ear, or whatever. Our tongues too were stroking each other. Continuously, without stopping. In the meantime, I stripped you. You were rock hard, but I had already felt that with my legs. When I first touch it, it’s always so different. It's an all-up feeling. It’s good to hold it in my hand, to feel it, to caress it. I love you - you said, to talk about something. But there wasn’t any time, neither for speaking nor for my climax. You knew that as well. As much as you wanted me, and however much you wished to slip into me. Gently you pushed away my hand. Once. Twice. Three times. But I'm not selfish. You have never been either. I lifted up my skirt so that it wouldn’t get dusty, dirty, because it would no longer fit my next appearance. I knelt down before you. My mouth encircled you. And my tongue was making a joyride around your dick. Meanwhile, my left hand was holding your leg, and the right one was moving around your dick. Slowly at first. Then you started to accelerate. You moved in and out. You were tense, on the verge of exploding. With your arm you commanded my head stronger and stronger. I felt that you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore... With full force you penetrated me again... Then you tensed and exploded into me... In the meantime, I like it best when you quiver. You literally quiver, it’s so good. My hand, my everything was quivering with you. And you are my everything. You didn’t feel the candy taste in my mouth any more. Instead, a salty, a familiar salty taste came. Which is still present. And you told me that you had seen stars, not because the building had no roof though, but because you were steaming, it was so good. And when I entered the church door, and when I sat down, and when the mass began, and when it came to the part to examine our consciences and repent our sins so we can worthily celebrate the sacred mysteries of the Lord, all I could whisper in front of me was: I fornicated. It was so good! "

second cycling trip

When I woke up, there was a small pebble in my mouth, and it tasted so good that I sucked at it at once.

In the morning I found a gray pebble in my mouth. It tasted so good that I sucked at it at once.

first cycling trip

My husband found my notebook, and was very angry when he read it. He tore the pages out of it, and returned it to me empty. Some phrases I will never forget, I thought, but by the time I wrote them down, I couldn’t remember any of them. I saw Zoltán today, and it was so good, so very good. And I didn’t even have to ride my bike to him: he came to me anyway.

I dunnowhich cycling trip

My husband locked me up in the room because he heard from someone that people are saying I’m seeing someone. Later the Doctor came, he examined me, and then told me off because I’m not taking my pills regularly. He said I shouldn’t believe in something that doesn’t exist. I didn’t see from Zoli the whole day, but I’m sure that he was thinking of me, because I belong to him.