Not particularly attractive

As the competitors are announced and strapped into position, you reflect that apart from Josh's girl, they're not very good looking. The younger girls are especially plain, despite the make-up, false eyelashes and nails. A quartet of tanned blondes wearing designer sportswear, a tall, pale teenager with jet black hair in a lime green lace dress and a black girl with dreadlocks and a gold sequinned top and skirt set all take their places to the cheers and applause of just their close supporters and friends.

There are another five women carrying implements: a light-skinned Asian woman with short hair wearing a kimono and strappy sandals, a blonde in a blue nurse's uniform bearing a strap although she looks a bit over thirty, a redhead wearing a denim jacket and another with what looks like a burn scar on her face in a black cocktail dress and a much older competitor dressed incongruously like a child, dark hair in pigtails, white ankle socks and patent leather shoes, white skirt and top, all covered in frills, a teardrop paddle at her waist.

The over-thirties without implements are an eclectic lot, several quite advanced in years, including two who walk with sticks and have to be helped to their knees by the waitresses preparing to strap them down. A curly-haired forty-something trots up wearing a jumpsuit, which she removes to reveal that she's naked beneath, eliciting plenty of wolf-whistles from the crowd, although personally you'd as soon she kept her clothes on. Not that she's not been taking care of herself, but she doesn't have the figure to make her nude appearance titillating.

A fifty-something with dyed pink hair and big boobs in a small polka-dot bikini and translucent white skirt generates some applause when she takes to the stage, but the crowd favourites seem to be an Arab woman in a black blouse and satin skirt and a grandmother in a hand-knitted twinset, supported by two generations of her family. The remaining fifteen competitors fail to stand out enough to catch your attention.

Robyn signals the start of the heat and thirty-two skilled tongues assail thirty-two helpless twats whose thirty-two owners start to moan in pleasure, although the hubbub of the crowd nearly drowns them out. It takes a surprisingly long time for the first climax to occur, so long in fact, that the spectators have started to chat amongst themselves and you're not even looking at the stage when the first cry of ecstasy rings out.

It's a forty year old strawberry blonde, but as all attention is drawn back to the race, a flood of other competitors go out in quick succession, most of them apparently content merely to avoid the punishment for coming first. A couple of the youngsters are in tears from the strain of holding on for as long as they have and after the flurry of orgasms is over, the girl Josh was coaching is the youngest still in, eyes closed in concentration, panting through pursed lips.

In contrast to the earlier heats, nobody so far seems to find the continuing stimulation overly unpleasant and many, including the dark-haired teenager and the naked woman, are humping the faces of their mounts energetically. The crowd has cast off its apathy and is now shouting support and encouragement for the various competitors still in. The nurse is struggling, hands clenched into fists, gritting her teeth to hold on, but you're momentarily distracted by the loud climaxes of the two women to her left and when you look back, you realize she's cum too and you missed it. She slumps exhausted over the face of the goalkeeper, but her neighbour turns out to be the first competitor in pain from the post-orgasm licking she's receiving, vainly straining against the straps to escape the unwanted attention.

The Arab woman in the black blouse has gone out without much struggle, to the disappointment of a considerable portion of the spectators, but her pink-haired rival and the grandmother are going strong, not displaying much sign of impending orgasm. The same can't be said of the less spry members of the same vintage, who seem to be delighting in the pleasure emanating from between their legs.

This is turning out not to be the most hotly contested heat, with only half a dozen riders still in contention, including a less-fancied Arab competitor wearing a stripy multicoloured dress, a woman in her late thirties whose ginger hair is escaping its bun and an elderly black woman who is sitting placidly on Lorelei's face, as if being tongued relentlessly is something that happens to her every day.