July 08, 2004
Fiction
One Size Fits All
Gavin checked the corridor one last time, and, satisfied that it was clear, slipped inside the bedroom. It would never do if Hugh caught him — Hugh had a strong sense of privacy, to the point of preferring to go to Gavin's place rather than his own. But since he'd given Gavin a key, and agreed to meet here tonight . . .
Yes, Hugh did keep his underwear in the obvious place. Black, black, black, oh, there’s a surprise, grey, black, deep blue, good god, the man did own something that wasn’t neutral colours, black . . .
All very severe. Just as bad as everything Hugh had worn so far when calling on him of an evening. The man was a delight in bed, but had no idea of underwear as a turn-on rather than as something to keep warm with. He’d hoped Hugh might have something a bit more entertaining tucked away, but no, it was all the same dark, severe stuff. The high proportion of silk to cotton was all very well, but couldn’t it be silk for the sake of silk, rather than because it was warm and comfortable?
That wasn’t silk.
He scrabbled it out from under the pile of socks. Given what it was, it had probably been hidden under there deliberately. Black again, but this time leather. He sniffed at it. Clean, but definitely used leather. Leather with a slight overlay of Hugh.
Very nice. He tried to picture Hugh wearing it, and nothing else. Even nicer. Why hadn’t Hugh worn it with him? Embarrassed? Maybe he was; after all, the idea of buttoned-up Hugh wearing something like this was a bit . . . well, a bit of a shock. Two black leather triangles held together by a strategically placed metal ring and a couple of buckled straps, one-size-fits-all. Not really the sort of thing anyone expected Hugh to wear. Of course, most people didn’t notice that reserved, quiet Hugh even had a sex drive — Gavin had bagged him by the simple expedient of being the first in their group to notice that he did.
Just how one-size-fits-all was this thing, anyway?
The idea wouldn’t go away. There was something very appealing about the idea of wearing leather that had last held Hugh in an intimate clasp. He’d only come in here to rummage around for something to have waiting for Hugh, but this wasn’t what he’d expected to find. Hugh as a secret leather fetishist was quite a turn-on. Maybe the silk wasn’t just for warmth and comfort.
It was no good, he couldn’t resist. He fiddled with the straps, letting them out until they seemed about the right fit, stripped quickly, and pulled it on. Not quite right on the straps, so he let them out a little bit more. That seemed to fit around the waist, but it was still a bit tight around the front. He went over to the mirror so that he could see what he was doing. His cock was poking out of the top of the triangle, and his balls were peeking around the sides. No wonder he wasn’t comfortable. He tried adjusting things.
One ball in, and the other popped out completely. Maybe it was still too tight. He loosened the straps a little more, and carefully tucked his balls in, one in each hand so that one didn’t push the other out. The leather slipped down, and his cock waved merrily from the top. Damn. Tighten the straps a little, some fumbling to get all three bits under control, cock in and thumbs on it to keep it down, fingers spread to tuck his balls in. There. That looked rather nice. For about two seconds, and then he was bursting out all over again. How did Hugh manage this? He himself might be on the well-built side, but Hugh wasn’t exactly underendowed given their relative body sizes.
“You’re supposed to put it on before you reach maximum size.”
He jumped, which wasn’t really the wisest thing to do when he had one hand tucked inside a recalcitrant piece of leather. “Hugh! I wasn’t expecting you to get home this early.”
“Obviously. Why were you looking through my underwear?”
He could feel himself flushing. Ridiculous, really, what was wrong with wanting your new lover to try a little harder in the sexy underwear department? “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you, it’s just that,” how could he put this, “well, I like sexy underwear. I thought you might have something more interesting that I could get you to wear.”
Hugh grinned sardonically. “And you thought you’d try it on for size.”
Well, yes, he could see it from Hugh’s point of view. “I was curious.”
Hugh looked him up and down. “It seems to suit you.”
Now what was that supposed to mean?
Hugh walked over to him, and deftly tucked him in.
“How did you manage that?” Lots of practice?
“As I said, you’re supposed to put it on before reaching maximum size.” Hugh ran a hand over the leather. “You seem to have wilted slightly.”
“Keep that up and that won’t be a problem.”
“Oh good.” Hugh squeezed gently. “I think I’d like to see you wearing it properly.”
“Hugh,” he wondered how to broach a somewhat delicate subject, “how long have you had this?”
“Longer than I’ve had you.”
“Why did you have it?”
Hugh smiled secretively, but gave no other answer.
He made to undo one of the buckles, but was stopped by Hugh holding his wrist. “I said I want to see you wearing it properly.” Hugh’s other hand was on the leather, a firm caress, cradling his cock and balls. He was starting to swell again, and not just because of the touch. He thrust forward against Hugh’s hand. Hugh squeezed him through the supple leather, and he thrust again. There was a thrill to standing here wearing nothing but a ridiculous scrap of leather, while his fully-clothed lover brought him to readiness. One hand over his cock, the other now tracing around his nipples.
Hugh let go and stepped back. “Much better.”
He looked in the mirror. Hard swell of cock against leather, but this time confined, the leather tight against him, squeezing him. Too long and it would be painful, but for now it was erotic, both to feel and to see.
Hugh stood behind him, put both hands on his buttocks, massaging them through the leather. “Yes, you look very nice. Better than I do.”
The mental image of Hugh standing in front of this mirror, looking at himself, nearly proved the undoing of the leather knickers.
The hands on his arse were working inwards now, and then he felt a sharp chill. The metal ring, pressed against his bare flesh. Then something else, something much warmer, Hugh’s finger.
He looked at Hugh in the mirror. They hadn’t done this yet, they’d been too busy experimenting with other ways of fitting their bodies together. Hugh said nothing aloud, he could ignore it if he wanted. But the question was there in Hugh’s eyes.
Did he want to do this?
Yes.
He pushed back, and the tip of Hugh’s finger slid inside him. Hugh smiled at him, then kissed the back of his neck. Hands running up his back, caressing his shoulders, and then Hugh said, “Make me ready.”
He turned around, dropped to his knees. He pushed up Hugh’s jumper so that he could reach the fastening of his trousers, made his way inside, and drew out Hugh’s cock. Not that Hugh looked as if he needed much work to make him ready. Cock full and heavy, resting plumply in his hand. He kissed the tip, then bent to his task, licking and sucking. Not to make Hugh come, not this time, but to make him hard and wet, wet enough to slip smoothly inside him. He trembled slightly at the thought, and heard Hugh gasp.
Like that, do you? He leaned forward, taking as much as possible, and sucked hard, then slid off. Hugh moaned, hands twisting in Gavin’s hair. He pulled Hugh’s trousers down a little, enough that he could nuzzle lower down, flicking his tongue over Hugh’s balls.
“Enough, Gavin!” Hugh’s voice was ragged.
He obeyed, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Hugh.
“Good. Stay there.”
This was definitely turning interesting. He watched as Hugh efficiently stripped, enjoying the view of the compact body that felt so good against his own. Then Hugh went to a drawer, pulled out a small tube. It looked to be full.
Have you been keeping that for me?
Hugh turned back to him. “Kneel on the bed.” Definitely a command, but the tone gentle. He obeyed, placing himself with his arse facing Hugh.
“Have you done this before?” Hugh asked.
He briefly debated giving Hugh a thrill by saying no, but decided that Hugh would be annoyed, or hurt, to discover later that it was a lie. “Yes. But not often.”
“Then we will need this.”
He wasn’t so certain about that, but if he insisted on trying without, and failed, Hugh would definitely be annoyed. He kept quiet, and waited. A wet finger at his hole, easing in. Nice touch there, Hugh had had the courtesy to warm the lube first. Inside, and deeper in, spreading the wetness within him.
“Is that enough, or do you want more?”
He was out of practice, and Hugh was well built, but the idea of being stretched by Hugh’s cock . . . “I’ll be fine.”
“Then turn over.”
He did so, surprised. He’d thought Hugh was heading into something a bit rougher, but apparently Hugh intended to take advantage of the bed being at a comfortable height for one man standing next to it and another lying on it. He looked up at Hugh’s face. Hugh was not looking down at his, but somewhere further down his body. And clearly liking what he saw. One hand over the bulge in the leather. One word. “Mine.”
“Yours,” he agreed.
“You come when I tell you that you can.”
“Yes.” So there was something to the leather, after all.
Hand trailing over his cock, down to his thigh. Hugh’s other hand on the other thigh, both sliding around underneath to give support. “I want you at the edge of the bed.”
He shuffled forward so that he was right on the edge, then lifted his legs, settling them over Hugh’s shoulders for support. He felt exposed and vulnerable, and he didn’t give a damn. Not when Hugh looked exposed and vulnerable, emotion playing over his face. Gentlest top I ever saw.
Hugh caressed him, looking into his eyes now. They held still for a few seconds, and then Hugh slid one hand off Gavin, and onto his own cock, guiding it as he thrust forward.
It was tight, but he looked up at Hugh, watching as Hugh caught the edge of his lip with a tooth, concentrating. A slight twinge, and then in, he was slowly filled up, pressure within and without. Hugh right up against him, checking his reaction, and then pulling out, only to push in again, blissful movement inside him. The leather restraint was a delightful torment, squeezing him hard, dragging against him slightly as Hugh moved, cold metal ring rapidly warming as it was pushed against him. The sharp contrast between cold hard metal and warm hard Hugh thrilled him inside.
Faster, and harder, and he wanted to come now, excited as much by the sight as the feel of Hugh, and then remembering that the leather he was wearing had first been worn by Hugh, and it was keeping him from coming and he wanted to come.
He only realised that he was trying to slip his hand inside the leather when Hugh pulled it out. “Wait for permission.”
And of course, that only made him want it even harder.
No gentleness in Hugh now, thrusting deep, face wild. Then Hugh stopped, held still, before reaching a hand down to Gavin’s hip. Movement, scraping against his skin, and then he realised what was happening, Hugh was undoing a buckle. None too soon, he wanted it desperately now. Blessed release of pressure just as Hugh commanded, “Come,” and he did come, grabbing Hugh’s hand, holding tightly as he rode the waves of pleasure. Thinking somewhere in the middle of it all that now the leather would smell of both of them, and how the hell did Hugh clean it anyway?
•
Some time later, he realised that he felt empty inside. Hugh had pulled out, and was now undoing the other buckle — with shaking fingers, Gavin was pleased to note. His legs were still over Hugh’s shoulders. He tried to ease them down, realised he couldn’t — he was shaking as well.
Hugh left the buckle alone. “Let me do it.”
Between them, they managed to get disentangled. He turned around to lie full length on the bed, and Hugh crawled on top of him, kneeling over him to tackle the buckle. The leather fell away. Hugh moved to one side. “Spread your legs.”
“Thought I’d already done that.” He grinned, and Hugh grinned back. Then he obliged, and Hugh obliged him by pulling out the leather. It was an interesting sensation, dragged out from under his backside. Then Hugh dropped it unceremoniously over the side of the bed, and lay down.
He decided it was his turn to be cuddled. They’d been fairly even-handed until now in the actual sex, but somehow he’d always ended up holding Hugh afterwards. This time he was going to be the one held in a comforting embrace. He pillowed his head on Hugh’s shoulder, and draped an arm across his chest. To his surprise, Hugh didn’t object, merely said, “Lift your head for a second.”
He did so, and Hugh slid an arm under his neck. As he settled down again, Hugh slid the arm around his shoulders, holding him. It was very pleasant. He said so.
Hugh said nothing in reply, merely lifted the other hand to stroke his head. Curiouser and curiouser.
They dozed for a while, enjoying the afterglow. Eventually Hugh nudged him. “I’m cold.”
As usual . . . “Then get the duvet.”
Harder nudge. “I can’t until you get off me.”
Oh well, it had been too good to last . . . He let go of Hugh, and said, “We really need to get you one with about twice the filling on one side of the bed as on the other.”
“Tomorrow.”
No complaints about invasion of Hugh’s personal space? They were definitely doing better.
Hugh sat up, and dragged up the covers. Then Hugh lay down again, and put an arm around him.
Still cuddling him. Well, if Hugh was in that good a mood, take advantage of it. “Why did you have those leather knickers?”
Sleepy smile in response. “Why did you try them on?”
“I liked the idea of you having worn them before me.”
“Mmm.”
He thought about that. “You said you’d had them longer than you’d had me.”
“Mmm.”
“You got them for me, even before you had me?”
“I got them because I thought I wouldn’t have you.”
That was certainly a roundabout way of saying whatever it was that Hugh was saying. He stroked Hugh’s face. “Do you find me that intimidating?”
Hugh looked down. “Never thought you’d let me . . .”
So much for his ability to read people. It had never occurred to him that that might be why Hugh hadn’t suggested fucking. Poor little sod had simply assumed that he’d end up on the bottom. “Hugh, I happen to like letting someone else take charge in bed.” He watched Hugh’s face. “You haven’t much experience with leather, have you?”
Hugh still didn’t look at him, but there was a small quirk of his mouth. “Only in my imagination.”
“Obviously a very vivid imagination.”
“Just how far off was it?”
“How the hell would I know? Underwear’s my fetish.”
Hugh laughed out loud, and finally looked him in the eye. “And what about that not being on the bottom very often, if you like someone else taking charge?”
“Well, there’s being on the bottom, and then there’s being the bottom.” He took hold of Hugh’s hand, wrapped it around his cock. “For some reason, I find that partners take one look at that, and want to tie me down so that they can make merciless use of it.”
Hugh squeezed, and licked his lips. “I can’t imagine why. Perhaps I should try it to find out.”
He grabbed Hugh around the waist, and rolled on his back, so that Hugh was lying on top of him. “Perhaps you should. But will you please wear something sexy?”
Hugh grinned wickedly at him. “You didn’t go all the way to the back of my sock drawer, did you? Let me up.”
He did so, and watched as Hugh sashayed his way over to the drawer in question. One sultry look over his shoulder, and, “It wasn’t just leatherwear in that shop.”
No, it wasn’t. Silk again, but this time heavy white satin. Elasticated, so that a man could slip a hand, or a cock, inside. And a small bolt of cloth. “I thought I could get some more made, but there’s enough here for ties instead,” Hugh said as he came back to the bed.
Gavin ran a hand over the latest sample of silk. Oh yes, much more to his taste. “So where are we putting the eyebolts we’re buying tomorrow? Your place or mine?”
“Both.”
is a materials scientist, whose publishing credentials include such gems as European Union research reports. Thrilling though these might be to at least three readers, Jules believes that variety is the spice of life. Writing erotica provides an adequate amount of variety. It’s better not to mix the two styles of writing, though — it's very embarrassing when your manager points out that the file you were working on during the lunch hour has found its way into the project folder . . . http://www.julesjones.com
