One Night in Montreal

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Author’s Notes:

‘One Night in Montreal’ is my contribution to Literotica’s ‘One Night in XXX’ Story Event.

Having experienced the absolute magic of this city’s yearly Tour La Nuit night ride myself, there was no other destination I could have chosen for this story.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.


One Night in Montreal


Roman eased his compact SUV onto the off-ramp from the Trans-Canada Highway to join the slow flow of traffic on the Décarie Expressway which was showing no signs of being express at all. He was finally past the industrial sprawl of the outskirts of Montreal, and the sunken north-south highway would take him directly into the heart of the city. This was his favorite part of the route.

The drive from Toronto, where he lived with his family, had taken him six and a half hours this time due to construction delays and he was feeling a little rough from being behind the wheel for that long. Normally, he would have had a co-pilot along to share the driving. His best friend Angelo was supposed to have joined him this weekend. At the last minute, Angelo received a call from his on-again-off-again girlfriend Bianca who’d gotten over their latest meltdown and wanted to be on again.

Angelo bailed on the Fellowship as, in his words, ‘One does not simply walk away from epic make-up sex with Bianca’. He’d apologized, but that still meant Roman was left to decide if he was going solo on the trip or canceling and losing the money he’d paid for the hotel and the event tickets.

Solo, it was.

He glanced once more at the clock on his dash as this late arrival was jeopardizing his ability to join the first event he’d signed up for this weekend. The ‘Tour la Nuit’ was a 20km night time group cycle through city streets closed to other traffic. This year was the first time he’d signed up for it. He and Angelo had participated in the festival weekend’s main ride in the previous three years. Le Tour de l’Ile de Montreal took place on the first Sunday in June. They’d promised they’d return and this time they’d join the Friday night Tour la Nuit ride as well.

Roman frowned as time was short and he still had to drive into the core of the city to reach his hotel, check in, get changed into his cycling gear, and ride to the start line. He’d chosen the downtown hotel as it was reasonably close to the start line. His mountain bike was securely strapped down on his truck’s bike rack, and he’d spent the evening before mounting strips of blue and white led lights to the bike frame. His ride was going to look so sweet! If he could just get moving!

As if hearing his silent plea, the speed on the Décarie began to pick up, and he breathed a little easier.

He spotted the ramp leading up to the street where he and Angelo would typically reward themselves with a journey’s conclusion meal. It was Angelo who first spotted the massive orange ball in the distance and made them stop on their first visit to Montreal. They’d discovered Gibeau Orange Julep, a roadside attraction from bygone days but still serving amazingly yummy fast food. Maybe not the healthiest meal but a welcome break after their long drive from Toronto. Roman sadly passed the exit this time but promised himself a visit on the way home.

He continued south to the end of the Décarie, exiting into the spaghetti of the Turcot Exchange and heading east towards downtown. It wasn’t long before he was driving into the tunnels under the city. He took an exit up to the surface then drove north into the center of the downtown district. He could see the preparations being put in place to block off the roads for the cyclists. His grin grew wider.

He lowered his window and enjoyed the warm evening air. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and nothing in the forecast to indicate this would change. It was perfect weather for a night ride!

Roman finally made it to the hotel and parked in the underground parking lot. He ensured he locked his bike securely to his bike rack then went up to the lobby to check in. Once he had his room key, he went upstairs and took a quick shower to freshen up. He shaved and looked at himself in the mirror as he dried his shoulder-length black hair.

Angelo was a smooth operator who had no problems talking with girls and getting a date; when he wasn’t back with Bianca, that is. Bianca was much like Angelo and Roman knew she had boyfriends when she wasn’t with Angelo. He could only wonder at the ease with which they each attracted people and had their little flings. He marveled at that ability as he was always too shy and typically struggled when meeting new people.

Angelo also had the pretty face, and Roman just looked fierce. He had dark brows over dark eyes, and his nose had a flattening bump that made it look like it’d been broken, but it hadn’t. Bianca once told him he had a nice smile and said he was a good listener.

She’d also made a play for him bakırköy escort once. After a particularly bad breakup, Bianca bumped into him alone in a nightclub. She was a little drunk, but she decided she’d enjoy his company, dancing, and drinking, which they did for hours. After he managed to get her to leave, he took her to her home, kissed her on the cheek, and graciously said his goodnights. She’d made it obvious he was welcome to share her bed that night, but he went home instead.

Later, when she was back together with Angelo, she’d cornered Roman alone and asked him point blank why he hadn’t slept with her. She’d never been refused before.

He’d told her that, while he found her very attractive, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his friendship with Angelo. That seemed to calm the woman’s insecurities.

Not that he’d always been a loner. He’d had a girlfriend once, Cindy. They’d been together for about a year until one day she informed him that she was leaving him to go overseas and find herself. That was two years ago, and he hadn’t heard from her since.

He had a strong body, especially his hands and arms as he was a stone mason in the family business and worked with the heavy materials every day. He cycled in the summers and played hockey all winter, so this and his job kept him fit.

Once he was dry, he put on his cycling clothes. In preparation for tonight, he’d gone online and ordered Toronto Maple Leaf cycling jerseys, one for himself and one for Angelo. He was feeling just a little nervous about it now as he didn’t have Angelo here wearing his to back him up. It should have been the two of them. He shook his head and pushed that from his mind. The colors on his jersey matched the lights he’d added to his bike. Still, he almost chickened out. He had another cycling jersey for the main ride on Sunday, but he didn’t want to wear it twice. He gave his head a shake. Blue and white it was!

He glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief as he still had time to ride to the start line. He grabbed his wallet, keys, and room card and headed back down to the garage. He pulled his helmet and gloves from the backseat and two water bottles from a cooler as well. His backpack had some snacks, spare tubes, tools, and a small pump. It also had his ride bib which he pulled on over his jersey. This one said Tour la Nuit on both sides as well as ‘Lait’ as the milk producers were a major sponsor of the ride. Angelo got a chuckle from that, but Roman was pleased as he preferred them over less healthy products. He realized it also covered up the Leaf’s emblem on the Jersey, so it wasn’t so obviously a Leaf’s uniform.

Unlocking the bike from the rack, he did a quick inspection, and it looked good. The lock went into his pack, he put on his helmet and turned on the lights. The bike glowed brilliantly, and he grinned happily. He wished he could have shared this with his buddy, but who was he to deny his friend a weekend of epic sex.

As he rode up the garage ramps to get back to street level, he thought about Angelo and Bianca. While they made a beautiful couple, he never really understood why they were together. They were too much alike, and neither was willing to compromise for the other. They had a very physical relationship, but they barely spoke. He was worried about his friend.

The garage door opened and Roman rode out onto the street. He got his bearings and slipped out onto the roadway behind a group wearing the same ride bib as he was. They smiled at his light show and said something in French which exceeded his high school lessons in the language, so he just smiled and nodded. They seemed to take no notice of his lack of comprehension as they rode away when the light changed.

They rode north, getting closer to the park and saw a few police cars blocking the main road. When the light changed, Roman followed the cyclists past the police cars, and they began a long steep climb on the avenue next to the park. When they finally crested the hill, they found hundreds of cyclists already waiting to start the ride. Roman’s smile widened as he saw the lights. Every kind and color of LED light was on display, and it wasn’t even dark yet. The sun was just kissing the horizon yet the happy lights flickered, pulsed and shone their chromatic hearts out. Some were in the strips like he’d strapped to his bike’s frame. Others were parts of toys tied to helmets, or baskets, or the cyclist’s bodies themselves.

Everyone seemed happy and excited, chattering to each other, eager for the ride to begin.

As he rolled closer to the main group, he overheard snippets of their conversations. Most were in French, but occasionally he’d hear English. He didn’t really listen in, but he let the energy wash over him. It was electric!

When he reached the pack, he stopped and straddled his bike, smiling to himself as he saw the anticipation on the faces of the people around him. Music was pouring from huge speakers beşiktaş escort a radio station set up on the curb, and some riders were singing along.

He saw cyclists of every age group from kids in bike trailers right up to octogenarians who looked like they might give him a run for his money in a race. The bikes on display ranged from Bixi city rental bikes to $4000 carbon fibre racing bikes. Roman saw some of the bikes were likely making their first appearance of the year after spending the winter and spring months collecting rust on a balcony. He wondered if they’d survive the journey. He glanced at the owners of these rolling rust factories to see if they looked like they’d survive the short route too. His mind flashed back to a previous sweltering summer day when he and Angelo rode in the 50km Sunday ride. They’d spotted paramedics doing vigorous chest compressions on a severely overweight man on the ground, ripples from the thumps rushing outwards through his doughy flesh, a victim of poor life decisions. It’d been a shocking and sad sight.

Pulling his mind back from that, he closed his eyes and let the music and laughter wash away the darkness. He felt so good! While it would have been nice to share this with Angelo, the night held so much promise he was just glad to be a part of it!

It was going to be a great ride!


When they left the grounds of McGill University, they were five ladies out for a night of fun on their bicycles. They’d decorated their rides and their helmets with lights and put on their sexy cycling clothes. Most of them anyway.

The straggler in their party was a last minute replacement for the roommate of the other four. The missing girl, Yvonne, had to go home to take care of a sick parent. Julie was her lab partner and gave in to her pleas to take her place as the fifth rider. Julie was riding Yvonne’s mountain bike as well.

Unfortunately, Julie was much shorter than her leggy lab partner and the bike’s seat post had no quick release to lower the saddle. Also, Julie had a much simpler bicycle in her hometown of Gatineau, so the gears and brakes of the mountain bike were taking some time to get used to. She’d spent the afternoon practicing and was confident she could do the route tonight, but she really wished she could drop the saddle a few centimeters, five max!

While she was wearing cycling pants and gloves, she had her comfortable Montreal Canadiens hockey jersey on top which clashed with the form-fitting cycling jerseys the other ladies were wearing.

Julie wasn’t as slim and svelte as they were. Yvonne would have matched them perfectly, but Julie had boobs and an ass, both of which jiggled when she walked.

The tight black pants already felt too weird, like she was naked!

The ride bib covered the team emblem on her jersey, but the red and blue lights she had on the bike continued the team colors theme.

As they got closer to Park Avenue where the start line was, a group of four young men rode up beside them on fancy racing bikes. These cyclists hadn’t added any extra lights to their ultralight bikes, just the standard tiny white flasher on the front and red flasher on the back. Julie admired their muscles showcased by their tight cycling clothes. Yvonne’s roomies immediately struck up a flirty conversation with the men and Julie began to feel like a fifth wheel. She eased herself further and further back as the group rode closer to the hill leading to the start line. She got a few glances from the four ladies, but they seemed fine with her separating herself from their group. She’d have to thank Yvonne for sticking her with such an unfriendly group.

When she reached the traffic light at the base of the hill, she saw police cars were blocking car traffic from the road. She waited for the others to leave once the light went green and seriously considered turning around right then and there.

That’s when a family rode past her with each of the children wearing a cute, glowing animal plush doll strapped to their helmets. She grinned at the happiness on their faces and moved to follow them across the street.

Julie concentrated on finding the right gear to get herself up the final hill. Gears were something she’d be looking for on her next bike!

When she finally crested the hill, she saw more cyclists than she’d ever seen before in one place! Hundreds? Thousands?

She rolled slowly down the other side of the hill, struggling a little to grip the stiff brakes, and stopped at the back of the pack. Straddling the frame, she stared in wonder at the brilliant display of lights on the bicycles around her. Everyone seemed so happy and excited. She could no longer see the four ladies she’d begun with, but she didn’t mind as riding solo with all these joyful people was going to be wonderful!

She was looking forward to it!


Roman examined the sheet metal screw he’d just removed from his front tire. It had a nasty sharp beylikdüzü escort point that had gone right through his tire and inner tube while he rode down a slight downhill lane through a pretty neighborhood. He was only 5km into the route and already in love with the Tour la Nuit experience.

Aside from the flat, that is, but he could swap out the tube with a spare in just a few minutes.

He watched the other riders rolling past for a moment as he stood on the sidewalk under the streetlight. Dense tree branches dimmed the light somewhat, but he had enough to work with. He was out of the way of the cyclists.

He heard a burst of female giggles as a group of four women on brightly lit mountain bikes cruised by with four men on racing bikes following close behind. He watched them for a bit as he wondered if the men were in hot pursuit and if the ladies intended to be caught tonight. He snorted to himself as he turned back to his bike. He rolled up the punctured tube and shoved it down to the bottom of his backpack. He had a patch kit to repair it if he went through the three spares he’d brought with him.

A sound behind him and up the hill caught his attention as he’d heard it just before he was forced off the road — a high pitched pop followed by a repeated hissing.

He began to turn as a second sound came to him.


Roman watched in surprise as a young woman riding a mountain bike rushed towards him. Her front tire was quickly losing air, and she was coming at the curb at an angle. At the last second, she tried to turn away from the curb, but the wheels struck, launching her from her bike into him.

He just had time to throw his arms wide before the delightfully plush woman collided with his chest and took him down onto the lawn behind him.

He laid there with his arms around the woman for a dazed moment or two. She felt really nice pressed against him. He released her as her hands moved to push against his stomach lifting her face to look at him in surprise.

“Are you ok?” Roman asked as he looked into the woman’s pretty eyes.

“Y-yes! I’m so sorry for crashing into you!” she exclaimed.

His brain tingled madly at her sweet French Canadian accent, and he immediately wanted to hear her speak again. “That’s ok. I don’t mind,” he said quietly as his eyes lingered on her mouth before returning to her eyes. She gave him a cute smile as she climbed to her feet. Roman stood up and noticed she was shorter than his 180 cm by at least 20 cm.

She turned and picked up her bike which was lying on its side on the sidewalk.

“Is something wrong with the brakes?” he asked, and her eyes went to his sharply. She relaxed as she saw it was just an innocent question.

She took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s my friend’s bicycle. It definitely has something wrong with it. I squeeze, but I don’t slow quickly at all!”

“I bet the seat is too high as well,” he ventured, comparing the saddle height to her body next to it.

She turned to face him with a smirk on her lips and her hands resting on her curvy hips. “Are you saying I’m too petite?”

Roman’s eyes flew wide. “No! No, you’re perfect- beauti- not petite, I mean- you are petite just not… too petite.” His treacherous mouth betrayed him into sounding like a fool again. Always, when faced with a pretty girl, he stuck his foot in his mouth. He clamped his jaw shut.

Her eyes seemed to be merrily twinkling as she smiled up at him. Then she noticed the stiff way he was holding his body and her expression became sweetly apologetic. “I think I am teasing you too much, no?” He gave her a cautious nod, and she sighed. “My apologies. Thank you for saving me! Vous étiez très galant!”

Roman reached for his high school French to translate her words and settled on believing she said something nice about him. “You’re welcome.”

She turned to look at her front tire with a cute pout. “It seems my lovely ride has come to an end.”

He suddenly didn’t want her to leave. “No! I mean, I can fix that! The brakes and the seat height too,” he offered.

She looked to him in interest. “Oh! You are handy with the tools?”

A broad smile stretched across his face at her words. “Yes, I’m handy.”

Her smile widened and became coy once more. Then she noticed his bike was upside down on the sidewalk a short distance away with its rear tire removed. “Oh! You have a flat as well?”

He nodded. “Let me just finish that, and I’ll fix your bike too. I’m Roman Manetti.”

She dazzled him with a pretty smile as she shook his hand. “Julie Nadeau.”

He nodded as he struggled to breathe. Turning to his bike, he focused his mind on replacing the tube. His hands automatically moved as he was well practiced at it. A few minutes later, he had the innertube in, the tire inflated and remounted. He glanced at Julie, and she gave him an impressed smile.

With his tire repaired, he turned his attention to her bicycle and discovered a sheet metal screw in her tire too. He looked up the road and wondered if additional screws waited to catch other unwary riders.

He pulled it out and held it out for Julie to take. “One of these caught me as well. There may be more on the road back there.” He aimed a thumb over his shoulder to point uphill.

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