Between the Vines

We break apart and he stands with his hands resting on my waist, eyes sparkling, his smile broad and loving.

"You're such a good kisser," he whispers.

He brushes his lips against my forehead and runs his fingers through my hair.

"You close your eyes when you kiss," I say with a smile.

He looks at me a little quizzically.

"You're meant to," he says. "It makes it even better."

"Oh," I say, blushing and lowering my eyes, my inexperience fully evident.

"Let's try it again!" he whispers.

He starts softly, but our kiss grows steadily more passionate. I pull myself tightly against him and his hands roam across my back.

We break apart for a second time.

"See," he says gently. "It's much better with your eyes closed!"

He reaches down and picks up my hand, lifting it with his own. He plants a soft kiss on my fingers.

"You're so beautiful," he says quietly.

My heart melts for him. I close my eyes, and reach up, my lips demanding his attention for a third time.

There's a loud buzz from the bed. Pierre gives an exasperated sigh and turns to pick up his phone. He swipes to unlock the screen and reads the message.

"My fucking brother!" he mutters under his breath.

He looks up; our magical moment is well and truly broken.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Will's forgotten to lock up, I need to go do it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I think I know why Will's 'forgotten' and who might have made him 'forget'.

"I'll be five minutes," Pierre says, tucking the phone into the pocket of his shorts. "You can stay here if you like."

With that, he's gone.

And I'm alone in his room.

And I can't quite believe it.

Somehow the world is very different to last night.

It's very quiet without him here. I look around. His room's quite spartan, but there are a few photos on top of his bookcase. I walk across to it.

The first picture is an old one, of the brothers on a beach. They're carrying an inflatable dinghy and Will is holding a paddle by his side. I smile softly to myself - even aged nine, Pierre is undoubtedly the cuter of the two. There's another photo of the two of them next to it, presumably taken at Christmas time, a few years later. I recognise his parents in the next photo and the final one of the four is a picture of a group of students. I study it jealously, trying to see if there is any contact between Pierre and the girl next to him, but there's nothing there.

I return the picture to the shelf and as I turn away, my eyes alight on his chest of drawers. A sudden curiosity takes hold of me. Does he keep his underwear in there? What about his swimming trunks? Surely it wouldn't hurt to take a peek? I'm sure he'll be a few minutes more.

Tentatively, I pull open the first drawer. There's a pile of boxer shorts and boxer briefs, some black, some white, some navy, some patterned - less than a dozen in total, folded in a rough pile. Nothing any different to what my brothers wear. I pick up a pair and lift them to my nose. They smell freshly washed - no trace of Pierre at all. I feel a little disappointed. Somehow it all seems a little too ordinary.

The next drawer down is full of socks and the one after that has some pairs of jeans and some other trousers.

But it's the fourth one down that has the treasure. As I slide it open, there's a pair of bright blue swimming speedos lying on top of some rugby shirts. I pick the trunks out and stretch out the waistband. They look a little more revealing than the black ones from yesterday morning! I stare at the crotch, trying to imagine Pierre's big cock curled up inside.

I glance over my shoulder. He's not back yet, but he will be soon. Quickly, I plant a quick kiss on the bright blue trunks and return them to their place. I've got to see him in these before I leave!

I start to slide the drawer closed, but a flash of bright red catches my eye. Is that another pair of speedos? My curiosity getting the better of me, I reach in to pull whatever it is out from beneath the rugby shirts. The fabric is stretchy. It's definitely not a pair of trunks - it's much larger than I was expecting. In my tipsy state it takes me a second to work out what it is. But realisation dawns - it's a rowing singlet!

I turn it over. There on the chest is the logo of his old high school. I try to remember back to his social media photos, but I don't think I've seen one of him in this. I'm sure I'd remember if I did. I glance down at the crotch and give a quiet giggle. I'm sure this shows him very well. I gotta see him in this too. I need a full fashion parade.

I straighten up and hold the garment out in front of me, trying to imagine Pierre's sexy body inside. It doesn't look big enough, the fabric would have to stretch tight, I'd see every inch of his chest and his abs and his cock...

Behind me the door opens. My daydream crashes to earth and I spin round.

"Where on earth did you find that?" he asks.

----

Pierre's POV

----

Doors locked, I run back up the stairs, muttering and cursing Will as I do. I pass his door. It's obvious what he's up to. I hope she keeps the noise down tonight.

And there's Chloe. Honestly, if she's not lying naked on my bed with her legs open, then I'm gonna send her back to her own room. Either she wants to fuck or she doesn't. And if she doesn't... well, I'm tired. I'm not pissing around any more tonight.

I open the door to my bedroom. She spins round. There's a guilty look on her face. She's been snooping. It takes a second for me to work out what she's holding. It's my old rowing singlet, the red one from high school. I blink. I'd almost forgotten I'd kept it.

"Where on earth did you find that?" I ask.

"I want you to put it on," she giggles, red with embarrassment, holding it out for me. "Please, just for me."

I'm about to lunge forward to grab the garment and shove it back in the drawer, but something stops me. Maybe I'm still hoping she'll blow me tonight. A couple of girls at Oxford have asked me to put my singlet on for them. It always ends up the same way. Perhaps it will too with Chloe. Well, if this gets her out of her panties, why not?

"OK," I say slowly, extending my hand to take the bright lycra. "But you gotta turn around first."

She looks a little surprised - almost as if she wasn't expecting me to say yes. But obediently she turns and faces the corner of my room, her fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of her skirt.

Quickly I pull off my t-shirt, and shuck off my shorts and underwear, discarding them on the floor. I make sure my boxers land on top of the pile, just so she knows I'm completely naked underneath. The singlet's a bit tight on my thighs and across my chest. I've bulked up a bit since high school - either that or the fabric's not as stretchy as it was. I hook the straps over my shoulders and adjust the position of my cock. It's easily at half-mast and growing harder by the second.

"Ok, you can turn round," I say.

Slowly she turns to face me. Her jaw drops. There's only one part of my body she's interested in. Her cheeks are already red and there's a slight glaze to her eyes. I know that look like the back of my hand - the unmistakable look of lust.

I hold out my arm, expecting her to come towards me, but she just stands there, rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on my cock.

Next to her, the drawer with all my sports clothes is still open. Maybe we need to play a little game? Maybe I need to turn the tables?

I bend down and pull out one of the rowing singlets I wear at Oxford. It's in my College colours - front and back in dark green with a broad white stripe down each side. It hides my modestly a little better than the bright red version.

"OK," I say, offering her the singlet. "Your turn. I want you to put this on."

"W...w....w...what?" she stutters. "But... but..."

"I dressed up for you, so you can dress up for me," I say gently.

"But it won't fit," she protests.

"It's stretchy," I say, testing the lycra in my hands. "It's almost brand new. It'll fit fine. I won't look, I promise. You can change in my bathroom if you like."

She hesitates, but reluctantly takes the singlet from me and disappears into the little shower room. To be honest, I was expecting her to refuse, to ask if maybe we could just have a little cuddle and start again tomorrow. But she took it. She's gonna change into it. And in a funny way, I'm almost proud of her. I don't know if proud is the right word, but she's going through with something that she's not entirely sure about. And if we're gonna make progress, then that's a step forward.

I don't think we'll get much further, but that's OK. We'll just kiss and cuddle in our singlets for half an hour or so, and then she'll slip back to her own room to sleep. It's all gonna be very tame. I'm gonna have to take this step-by-step.

The bathroom door opens and Chloe steps out. She smiles a little shyly, head down, looking towards the floor. She's beautiful. The dark green really suits her. And the singlet fits OK - it's loose around her waist and her thighs, but that doesn't matter and it's not stretched too much over her hips and bust.

"You look great," I say. "The colour's just right for you. Honestly it's great."

She smiles again.

"Go on, give me a twirl!"

I thought she might snap back playfully and tell me to get lost, but obediently she turns on the spot.

That butt - so pert! It's so perfect. My imprisoned cock strains against the tight fabric.

She's facing me again and I hold out both hands.

She crosses the floor to me, taking a sneaky glance down at my hardness. I reach out to embrace her and her body crushes against mine.

I feel her stiffen I as I take her cheeks in my hand and gently tease her lips apart with my tongue. My hips push forwards a little so she can feel my cock against her belly. She's moaning into my mouth now; I bet she's wet down there; her nipples are rock hard!

I place my hands under her arms and lift her high in the air. Instinctively she wraps her legs around my waist, crushing her mons against my steel. We're getting more passionate now as I carry her across the room. Our tongues wrestling as she grips me tightly.

I'm tempted to throw her on the bed and launch myself on top of her. But that's too much for Chloe - we're not ready for that yet. Still carrying her, I sit down on the edge of the bed and she lifts her feet clear of the covers. She scoots back a little, adjusting her position so her legs stretch out behind me. Because of the way she's sitting on my thighs, she's actually taller than me now. I'm kinda kissing upwards, if that makes sense. I'm not used to that, but it's kinda nice.

"You like this?" I ask, as she breaks away from me to draw breath. Her legs wrap more tightly around me, pulling her closer against me, my rock-hard cock pressing insistently against her mons - just two thin layers of shiny fabric between them.

My hands slip down her back, sliding across the lycra as I sweep my fingers across her buttocks. Her butt is fantastic - so firm, so pert. She gives out a little quiver of pleasure as she grinds her sex against mine.

"This is so hot!" I whisper into her ear.

I move to kiss her again, but she pushes me away with a finger on my lips.

"I want to look at you," she whispers. "Please, let me look."

She lets her finger slip down my torso and runs it across my chest. I lean back a little to give her a better view. She's getting more confident, less inhibited, willing to let me know what she wants.

"I love your hairs," she murmurs, half to herself, as she plays with the little whisps poking above the top of my singlet. "And I love this chest!"

There's a moment of hesitation in her deep blue eyes. I know what she wants, but I'm gonna make her ask for it.

"Can I...? Can I...?" she asks hesitantly. "Can I see a bit more?"

I answer her with a kiss, a deep passionate kiss, our mouths meeting in a frenzy of lust.

Her fingers are on my shoulders. I hold myself still, praying that she'll do it.

And then, with a final half-second of indecision, she hooks her fingers under the straps and slides them across. I help her to free my arms and she pulls the singlet downwards, bunching it around my waist and baring my upper torso for her inspection.

I lean back again, watching her as she watches me. That dark green colour really does suit her. She's fully turned on - there's the tell-tale flush of her arousal across her chest and that lustful glaze in her eyes. I could probably flip us over, pull her singlet off and take her here and now. But somehow, I don't want to. I'm enjoying taking it slow.

Her fingers are on my chest again, tracing the outline of my muscles. She leans forwards and plants a single kiss between my pecs, pressing more of her weight onto my hardness. I'm getting a bit uncomfortable now, my balls are twisted inside the singlet, but there's no way I'm stopping her.

She takes a deep breath in.

"I love how you smell," she murmurs. "Your scent. You're so manly, so masculine!"

There's another little shudder; it's not gonna take much to make her cum.

I feel her suck my nipple into her mouth. That tickles a bit. It's never been much of a turn on for me, but I gasp and moan to urge her on. She's getting more enthusiastic now and I tighten my grip on her buttocks, squeezing them more firmly as she fetters my chest with her kisses. If we're not careful we're gonna lose our balance. I push her back up.

"My turn now!" I whisper.

I thought I might have to be subtle - to kiss delicately across her collar bone, before I even got near her shoulder straps. But Chloe is decisive. Without a second's hesitation she pulls her arms free of the singlet and rolls the fabric down to her waist.

I gasp.

Her breasts are perfect; there's no other way of putting it - small, round, pert, with pointed erect nipples; she's the epitome of teenage beauty. And she's sitting on my lap. No other girl has even come close.

I pull her body to mine, letting her feel her buds against the soft hair on my chest, as I plant little kisses on the side her neck and lightly stroke her back.

Softly she moans my name, "Pierre, Pierre!"

I nearly cum there and then. What is she doing to me? I lean her backwards a little and look deep into her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Chloe," I whisper.

My eyes fall again to her breasts.

"They're not too small are they?" she asks anxiously.

"No, they're perfect," I shake my head in a disbelieving smile. "Perfect!"

I dip my head and kiss each of the buds in turn. They're very tender, but they're rock hard. Chloe lets out a hiss of delight as I take the left nipple into my mouth and. Encouraged, I begin to flick my tongue across it, swirling my spittle around it. She cradles my head in her hands as she leans back further.

Her breathing's becoming shallower now and more rapid. She wasn't far from orgasm when I started, but she's definitely beginning to lose control as I switch my attention between her breasts. Her moans are constant and she's getting louder, arching her back, bucking her mons against my cock as she hurtles, sightless, towards her climax.

Then, without warning, she stiffens, throwing herself forwards against me, forcing me back onto the bed. Tightly she clings to me as the earthquake thunders through her body. Again she cries out my name, her voice catching as she fights for breath.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it's over. She's still and calm, lying almost motionless on top of me, drifting to earth on the fading heat of her pleasure.

----

Chloe's POV

----

I'm not quite sure what just happened. One moment Pierre was kissing my breasts and the next... That's the most powerful orgasm I've ever had. I still feel like I'm floating; that it's not real. But I'm definitely not dreaming. This is really happening.

I'm lying with my head on his chest listening to the slow rhythm of his heart, as the warm glow of first love pulses gently through my soul. It's a wonderful feeling - truly, indescribably wonderful.

He's turned the lights off, but I know he's not asleep. Every now and then he kisses the top of my head and strokes my back. I'm just happy lying here, drinking in the sight of his divine body, bathed in the soft light of the moon flooding through the open window.

I can just about see the outline of his cock. It's peeking at me over the roll of lycra bunched at his waist. I don't think he's hard any more, but he still looks big. It's calling to me, enticing me and I'm not sure I can resist.

Slowly I turn my head and press my lips against his chest. He smells divine - so manly, so masculine. He shifts as he feels me move.

"You're awake?" he whispers.

Silently, I nod and slide over his body to meet his lips with mine. I stare down into his eyes as he gently strokes my hair. Silently we watch each other in the dim light - a magical moment of stillness.

Slowly I kiss my way down his body, appreciating every feature of his torso. I still can't quite believe this is happening - all my hopes of the past two months are coming true; reality is ten times better than my dreams.

I lower my body to his, fully on top of him now. The bulge in his singlet lightly presses against my belly. I sink a little lower, gazing down at his magnificent chest, watching the little dark hairs catch the light as his ribcage slowly rises and falls. I dip my head and kiss delicately across his pecks, luxuriating in his musky scent. Deep within me the flames begin to flicker.

I bend my head to kiss his fantastic abs, brushing my nipples against the swelling in his lycra. I'm getting properly horny now, the wetness is building. I can feel his penis just beginning to move against my breast. My core cries out - I have to see it! I want to watch him get hard!

He opens his legs a little and instinctively I slip between them. There's his cock, still trapped behind the shiny material, perfectly silhouetted in the moonlight. I watch it slide across, like the minute hand of a clock sweeping towards the hour, growing longer and thicker as it moves.

I plant a soft kiss midway down the shaft.

He's rock hard!

I look up at him in rapturous delight. Did I just do that to him? Is that for me? That's the best present anyone's ever given me!

"Are you..? Are you..?" My voice falters.

"That's what happens," he says, almost apologetically. "You're so beautiful, that's why."

I could swear he's blushing - it's really cute. My heart just melts for him.

I kiss him again, then place my thumbs and forefingers either side of his length, stretching the lycra, so I can see it more clearly.

"It's so big. It's so long and sooo fat!" I marvel.

I look up at him.

"Does it hurt like this?" I ask hesitantly.

"It's a bit unconformable," he acknowledges. "Can I...?"

His voice trails off as he reaches down inside the singlet to adjust his balls. I try my best to suppress a giggle.

Our eyes meet again. That's much better now.

I look down at his cock. It's catching the light perfectly. I'm just in awe.

Another kiss, but this time I hold my lips against the fabric, drinking in the musky scent of his arousal. A shiver runs through me. I'm properly wet now.

I straighten up and before I can have second thoughts, I grab the singlet where it's bunched around his waist. He gives a startled cry of surprise, but as I pull at the material, he lifts his hips. It's a bit tight - it's a struggle to pull it free it from his thighs, but eventually it's loose. I step backwards off the bed, holding it aloft in triumph.

But my real prize is in front of me; the most perfect man, laid out naked on the bed, the soft moonlight catching every sinew, every muscle, his skin glowing with a silvery lustre.

And there is his crowning glory, springing from the forest of tight, dark curls at its base, pointing straight up, reaching almost to his belly button; long, strong and awesome in its mesmerising power.