Jason woke from a fitful sleep.
He lay on his bed, mesmerized by the slowly rotating motion of the ceiling fan, it's gentle breeze just managing to take the edge off the stifling heat.
He got out of bed and walked to kitchen to get a drink.
He opened the fridge door and stood, naked, in front of the cool air.
After pouring himself a drink of water, he opened the sliding doors which led into the carport.
Jason loved warm mornings. There was something about the stillness of a summer morning than touched his inner being.
He stepped outside. It was cooler than inside but not by much.
The gate which fenced off the carport from the street was made up of vertical steel rods, about 20 centimeters apart. Anyone driving by would have had a good view of his naked body. But it was just gone 5 o'clock and the streets were deserted.
He raised his arms in surrender to the sensual feeling of being naked outside. He ran his hands over his chest and down his front, then around his buttocks.
It felt so good.
Jason lived three houses up from a corner.
He saw the lights of the car turn into his street.
He walked casually back into his carport area; slow enough to be "accidentally" seen if the driver happened to be looking in the right direction.
Jason liked being naked, and the risk of being seen by a passing motorist only heightened his excitement.
After the car had passed he walked back to the gate, willing another car to come around the corner.
He waited for five minutes before giving up.
He walked back to the sliding door and was about to go in when he glanced over at his bike leaning against a wall. He went over and touched the seat.
Bike riding was one of Jason's favorite things. This could explain why he had never gone for his driver's license and probably never would.
He stroked the seat.
Freedom.
It was time to ride.
He went back inside and, after having a bite to eat, put on a pair of shorts, socks and shoes, and shoved an old t-shirt in his backpack.
Jason had a number of favorite riding routes which usually took him to one beach or another.
He lived less than a kilometer from the town's major bike track which followed the coast.
The track was well used but probably not at 5 in the morning.
Jason was soon on his way. It wasn't long before he was on the coast track enjoying the experience of freedom which the bike always gave to him.
Jason always rode in shorts with high cut sides, and never wore underwear under his shorts - even on the coldest of days.
As he rode, he rolled up the sides of his shorts so that the front of his shorts formed a narrow band of material across his genitals.
His pubic hair extended either side of the material and the tightened skin of his balls could be seen pressing hard against the seat.
He reached down and ran his finger down the side of the thin strip of material feeling his cock as he did.
Someone coming the other way would have a lovely view. But no one was coming the other way.
The track was moving closer and closer to the ocean. The delightful smell of the open sea came to him and soon after he could hear the sparkling sound of the water meeting the beach.
It was perfect. The sea; the bike; the warm, windless air.
He topped the hill and continued on through a park section of the track.
The bike track ran for about 50 kilometers with a vast range of surroundings greeting the cyclist. For most of the track, houses could be seen on one or other side, but occasionally the track passed through parklands where hardy bushes grew.
Jason slowed to a stop.
The air, which had been helping to cooling him, was now still, and beads of sweat formed on his brow and chest.
He dismounted from the bike and retrieved his water bottle from its holder.
As he drank, a few drops spilled from the bottle onto his chest.
He rubbed the wetness into his skin, enjoying the momentary cooling effect.
