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Just a little something different that I wrote up this evening. It's non-furry, but I hope people here still enjoy it!

The Spandex Biker

Shane squinted his eyes as he rode down the dry, dusty country road, kicking up a cloud of gray-brown dust behind him. A combination of sweat, sunlight and dust limited his vision, causing him to blink furiously to clear the dust and soothe the stinging. He could feel tears running down his cheek, or maybe it was sweat. Probably a combination of the two. He sat up, not daring to let go of his handlebars like he would have on asphalt and wiped his brow with one arm, then rubbed one eye at a time.

He heard a noise, one he had heard many times in his years of riding bikes. He grabbed the handlebar just in time and skidded to a halt, the back tire thudding against the compacted dirt with each revolution. He looked back and sighed melodramatically at the flat rear tired and a rusted nail laying ten feet behind him.

"Great, just great." He muttered to himself and dismounted his bike. Of all days to leave a spare inner tube behind. He pressed his hand down on the tire which flattened to the rim with little effort. There was no way he could ride without damaging the rim now.

Shane's legs burned, the odometer on his bike read fifty eight miles already, but the nearest town was still ten miles ahead of him. He took out his phone and tapped the screen, rolling his eyes after reading "No Service" at the top. That is what he got for riding in the middle of nowhere.

There was no recourse but to hike it to the next town where he would have service, or at least be able to find a phone and have a friend pick him up. He started walking, pushing his bike beside him as he made his way down the country road.

The sun's heat seemed to intensify the more he walked. At least he was staying a little cool, of course he was wearing blue spandex shorts and a blue and white spandex shirt that clung to his toned chest and abdomen. He unlatched his helmet, hooking around the top tube of the frame. His light hair was darkened by sweat and matted to his head, it almost looked brown instead of his usual amber.

Shane had always been a handsome guy, most of which he attributed to his natural build. He had biked enthusiastically since he was four, though, and that helped. It was only a year ago when he turned twenty that he started biking in competitions. He found it fun, even if he had never worked as hard in his life to catch up to some of the more seasoned riders.

After only about a mile of walking, Shane heard something behind him. It was too quiet to be a car. He turned his head and smiled as he caught view of another rider who was slowing down. He hailed him with a raised hand, the other keeping his bike upright.

"Hey there, gotta problem?" The other rider said as he came to a halt, hopping off his bike. He was taller than Shane and a little older to boot. His skin was a deep tan that Shane immediately felt jealous of. He only burned, rarely did he ever tan. The newcomer took off his helmet, his short black hair spiked up.

"Yeah, hit a nail back there." Shane chuckled and patted his flat tire. The other biker had a chiseled face with dark stubble on his cheeks and a well trimmed goatee. He smiled and offered a sweaty hand to Shane who took it with a firm grasp.

"Matthew," The taller man said with a nod and Shane replied with his own name, "I should have a patch for you, Shane."

"That's great, thanks man." Shane kicked the stand on his bike and set it upright before working to get his rear wheel detached. "I'm lucky you came along." He chuckled.

"Especially since this is my first time down this road." Matthew replied as he unzipped a bag that hung between the top and down tubes. He pulled out a tube of patching liquid, checking it over while Shane removed the tire.

"This is my usual path, it's nice if you don't hit nails." He joked and looked up at the other guy, looking at the metal tube curiously. "What kind of patch is that?" He asked as he pealed off the tire from the rim, exposing the damaged inner tube below.

"A new brand of stuff, bonds well to rubber and stays firm. Dunno how it works, but it's amazing. Saved me several times in races." The man said as he unscrewed the top of the tube. "You found the hole yet?" He asked and Shane turned his attention back to the tire, turning it around and pulling at the rubber.

"Not yet." He replied, moving his head a little closer. Matthew noticed a dab of the patching material on his palm while the younger man looked for the hole, and curled his fingers around to work the greasy liquid on his palm, trying to rub it off. Shane only noticed the man walking up beside him as he searched for the hole, it was a little over halfway through a revolution that he found it. "Ah ha! Kind of big though, you think that stuff will hold?" He asked as he looked up at the man standing over him.

"I'm sure of it, I had a slashed tire once and this stuff worked." He boasted and handed the tube to Shane. "Just dab a bit on the hole."

"That's what she said." Shane replied and laughed. "Sorry, couldn't help it."

Matthew laughed too much to Shane's relief and he applied a dot of grease to the hole and watched as it seemed to disappear into the rubber. All of it except for the hole that had been there. If he had not seen the hole with his own eyes, he would never had known there one.

"Quite amazing." He breathed and ran a finger along where the hole once was. He shook his head and handed the tube back to Matthew before he reattached the tire. It always took longer than pulling it off and he grunted a few times as he pulled at the tire and secured it in place.

"Yeah, it's called Galvin, you can only find it in a few places now though." Matthew said as he watched Shane put his bike back together. Getting the chain around was another difficult part, one he knew all too well. His eyes were drawn down though as the younger man bent over to loop the chain back around the gears. The guy had a cute ass, especially in that blue spandex. He could not help himself and gave Shane a slap on the rump. "You're all good to go?" He asked with a smile.

Shane immediately stood up and turned to Matthew, a brow raised. "Dude, what are you doing?" He asked and Matthew backed up a step.

"Relax, it was meaningless. I do that to my teammates all the--"

"I'm not one of your teammates." Shane said, he had felt the way those fingers had squeezed as they slapped. "Thanks for the help, I'm good now." He said and Matthew just nodded.

"Glad to help, and sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." The older man said as he hopped onto his bike and peddled off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him which caused Shane to cough.

He could not believe the nerve of the guy. It was all to blatant he only wanted to cop a feel. It was not the first time something like that had happened to him and it would not be the last if he kept meeting strange men on the side of a country road. He blew it off though, the guy had apologized at least. He was ready to just ride home. He hoped that stuff worked as well as Matthew had said else he would be hoofing it again.

It only took a few more minutes before Shane was back on his bike, his rear tire attached and inflated. He tested his weight on the tire, bouncing up and down on the leather seat before he was satisfied. Say what he will about the guy, he was happy the patch worked like a charm. He was off, peddling fast in the opposite direction of Matthew. It was fifteen miles to the nearest town this way, but he would be fine.

He peddled uphill and breathed a little hard, the burning returning to his legs as he pushed himself harder, trying to get what could only be his fourth or fifth wind of the day. He only rested when he reached the top, sitting his weight back down on the leather seat before he felt himself slip a bit on it. He blinked and wiggled his rear in the seat, it felt slick for some reason. He reached back and ran his fingers along his spandex shorts, they were supposed to reduce moisture, yet it felt slick. Just not wet.

As he looked at his fingers he noticed a bit of the grease and rolled his eyes. The bastard must have had some of the patching material on his fingers before he slapped his ass. He was suddenly more irritated. He did not want to wipe the stuff off on his shorts since he was unsure just how hard it would be to clean it off, so he gripped his handlebar and lived with the grease on his hand. It was only a several more miles, he would live.

He turned into a different country road. This one was not paved either, but it was not compacted dirt like the one he had been on. Instead they used a combination of oil, tar and tiny pebbles, letting those who drove over it compact it into a solid road. It was bumpy, but the lack of dust was welcoming. The air even smelled cleaner. Now it was just a straight run to the next town.

Shane grabbed the bottle of water below him and drank a swig, feeling the cool liquid flow down to his stomach. He sighed contentedly and took a few fast, deep breaths before he leaned over and rode hard again. He felt great, but halfway to the small town, he started feeling hotter.

His legs were burning from the heat, not just from the exhaustion, but it was not until he looked down that he started to worry. He grasped the brakes, skidding to a halt as he stared at his legs. His spandex shorts were longer somehow, now covering over half of his calf and slowly creeping downward. It was like they were being knit before his eyes by some invisible hand, knit to the exact contours of his body. His heart beat against his chest as panic surge inside of him. He just stood, straddling the top tube as he watched the material now covering his ankles.

With a jolt, he swung his leg over his bike and let it fall onto the grassy ditch as he hopped to the other side and sat down, removing his shoes and socks. The red spandex was already covering his toes, knitting in between and around them.

"What the--" He said as he pulled at the spandex on his shin and let out a yelp. It felts like he had pinched his own skin, but he was was not sure how that was possible. He shook his head and gulped as he raised his hand up to pull at his thigh, again feeling a tinge of pain. He switched hands to the other leg and was stunned again at what he saw. His left hand, the one he had used to wipe some of the patching material off, was now covered in rubber. His fingers were all still there, but they bent all along the length, not just the knuckles now.

The palm was textured like the rubber on the hand grips of his handlebars. They even had the logo just above the wrists. He grabbed at the rubber clad hand with his other and tried to pry off the foreign material, only to let out another grunt in pain. He watched as the rubber crawled up his forearm, the spandex of his shirt knitting its way down.

Shane's chest rose and fell quickly as his heart beat faster than it had while he was riding his bike. He could not comprehend what was going on, or why he was not running around screaming for help. He turned his head down both directions of the road and saw nobody, there were not even houses yet, just fields of corn and soy. He did not know what he would say if somebody did show up though, they would view him as a monster.

He scrambled up to his feet and dragged his bike with him into a small patch of trees that straddled a tiny creek. He let his bike fall against a sturdy trunk and looked down at himself. His left arm was a mix of rubber and spandex now, his right arm just spandex down to the wrist as it spread down to his hand where it would eventually cover each digit. The rubber and spandex made a design, a black rubber stripe flowing along his upper arm, covering his armpit and down his side.

He reached his rubber hand out to one of the trees, surprised to feel how hard and textured the bark was, it felt cooler too. It was like the rubber was not a glove, but rather his skin. He ran it up and down, feeling the bark before he pulled his hand away and sucked air through his teeth. He could definitely feel pain, that was for sure. If he could feel pain, then that meant this was not a dream. What could have possibly caused this?

The rubber flowed down the side of his leg, leaving a black stripe in the red spandex before it covered the bottom of his foot. He could feel it creeping around behind him too, over the back of his neck as the shirt inched its way upwards, soon coming to his chin. He wondered idly what would happened when it reached his mouth and pulled at the edge of the spandex as he tried to stop it from covering his head.

It was no use though, there was nothing to grasp there but his old and new skin. It reached his lips and wove around them, leaving his mouth uncovered for the time being. He heaved a sigh of relief. It did the same to his nose but not his eyes, they covered with white spandex as it reached his hairline and soon, the last part of his body was consumed with synthetic material.

Shane could hear himself breathing, could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He could feel the rubber creeping down his arm and his side, over his hand and down his leg to his other foot, perfectly matching the style on his other half. He moved his eyes around all the while, trying to catch site of anything between the stitching of the spandex, but all he could see was white.

He lifted his hands to his eyes, rubbing them, fingers manipulating the material until he pulled them away in shock. He could see again, but he was not sure how exactly. The material was covering his eyes, he was sure of it, but somehow he could see once more.

It was only a small bit of relief, he was still covered in different types of material. He did not know what he was going to do or say about that. He had to get help, but he was too afraid to. He took a step towards the road and stopped again, feeling another burning. This time it was in his groin. He looked down, seeing a familiar bulge begin to expand and lengthen. He opened his mouth to gasp, which was followed by a shaky moan as he leaned against a tree and somehow closed his eyes.

The feeling was amazing. He hand slipped down and ran across the spandex, feeling the bulge begin to take shape. A part of him told himself to stop, told him this somehow was not right, but the other part screamed for him to continue. It was such a pleasureful feeling.

He felt his crotch split and opened his eyes, looking down. From the split came a black shaft with a thick, rubbery head covered by a tube. He had most certainly been cut before, so it was a surprise to see foreskin all of a sudden, though he was unsure he could call it that. His shaft was made of dark leather like the seat he had been sitting in, a stitching ran along the underside, his fingers stroking along the bumps as he let out a long, low moan. Even his balls were larger, two leather bulges hanging below his new equipment.

Something about the situation changed in Shane's mind. He was still panicking deep down in the recesses of his mind, but that was a small cry compared to his desires, his needs. The greater part of him was accepting his change, embracing it like his fingers embraced his new shaft, stroking up and down the thickening length. He had never felt hornier in his life than he did at that moment. He was surprised as he stroked his hand up and down that leathery length, squeezing the rubber mushroom head that he did not cum almost immediately.

He wanted to, he wanted to empty those leather balls of his, spray his load all over the tree he know braced himself on with his free hand. Moans of pure pleasure escaped his lips, his mouth feeling odd to him. It was he only part of him that resembled his old self, the self he was slowly beginning to think was foreign. Yes, the flesh in his mouth was the odd part of his body. But he knew of a way to fix that.

He laid down on the soft grass and stroked himself for a moment, making sure he was nice and hard before he lifted his legs up and slowly bent over. His new body was much more flexible than before, allowing him to easily point the leathery shaft at his mouth. He lifted his head, suckling at the tip as his hand pulled back the foreleather. The taste was strongly rubber as his tongue flicked along the head, his lips slipping down the leather shaft.

He bobbed his head up and down, enjoying the taste of his new body. No, of his body, the one he had always had. Clear latex dribbled from out of the tip of his shaft, coating his tongue in a bitter substance that tasted all too good to Shane. He wanted more, wanted to drink it down the rest of the evening.

He stroked whatever portion of his dick he was not shoving into his mouth and moaned around it, sending sensual vibrations that caused his whole body to tingle. His other hand rubbed over the spandex of his rump, finding a little rubber hole between the cracks. He shivered as he ran a finger along it, pressing against it slowly until the rubber gave way.

The inside was tight and warm, textured to pleasure anyone who wanted to mount him. He paused for a moment, some part of his mind told him he was straight, but it was fading so fast, it was only an echo by the time it reached his consciousness. He knew he would pleasure any man who wanted to mount him, his body was made for that.

The passage flexed and stroked his fingers as he he pushes more and more of them deep inside of him. He could feel the pleasure as his fingers thrust in and out, his mouth manipulating his shaft . He felt himself closing in on his orgasm fast, wanting so much to cum but also wanting so much to draw the pleasure on.

His fingers hit a spot inside of him as he thrust a third one into the rubber hole. He let go of his shaft, letting it slap against his face as he cried out. He fingered that spot, clear latex splattering over his chin, his nose, his cheeks. It gave off a synthetic scent, but somehow it smelled masculine. More so than he had used to smell. It drove him wild, magnifying his lust two fold. He was sure one inhale of the liquid would make any man his. He opened his mouth, suckling at his shaft as he played with that spot inside of him. He was in heaven.

He would have given anything to feel this way for as long as he could, but the high was short lived as he felt his body tense and his cock throb in his mouth. He sprayed black rubber into his awaiting mouth, swallowing it down as fast as it filled him up. He knew the rubber would make quick work of the rest of his inside, changing them to fit his outside. His mouth would be rubber, slicked with liquid latex saliva. The insides of his body were converted into more rubber, a thick liquid that would soon drain into his sac to refill his potent testicles.

He pulled his fingers from his rubber hole and slipped his dick from his new rubbery mouth as he laid on the grassy floor. He felt his leather shaft soften and shrink back down, slipping back into the crack of spandex before it sealed up, leaving him with an unmistakable male bulge. He caught his breath for a moment, watching the rustling of the leave above him.

Finally he stood up and walked over to the water, staring at himself in a murky mirror. His face was patterned in red and white latex, like tattoos that gave him a sleek look. The red covered his eyes, defining them. He turned his head side to side and smiled, enjoying the way he looked.

He was Shane, but not the old Shane. He was a marvel of spandex that gave him a toned physique, the rubber of his body accenting the red and white spandex perfectly, giving him traction on his hands and feet. His shaft was made for pleasure, complete with stitched dimples that would drive even the most veteran bottom into a wild sexual ecstasy. He was Shane, a synthetic god of sorts. It was all thanks to Matthew too. Somehow he knew he had to find that man, to thank him for the gift. To share his gift. He would share it with the whole world.