(This story is written strictly for the free enjoyment of fans of the "Beauty and the Beast" television series. No copyright infringement is intended.)

Love Stretches

Angie

O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

- William Shakespeare

Catherine had never really been fond of rising early, but she had made a special effort to be up and below by eight a.m, to help with preparations for the Winterfest celebration. Vincent had already left when she awakened at seven o’clcok and she decided to dress and go down right away. She could then join the community for a quick breakfast before beginning the day’s work.

There was no point in anything but a perfunctory wash, as she would be getting very grubby, if past years were any indication.

She left the brownstone a few minutes later and trotted down the tunnels towards Vincent’s chamber, still a little hazy with sleep, thinking of nothing in particular. If he wasn’t there, she would probably find him with Father.

She moved quietly, almost as softly as Vincent, these days. Her senses had become more acute as well. She could sense that he was concentrating deeply on something and wondered what it could be so early in the morning. She was sure it had nothing to do with cleaning the Great Hall.

She slid into the tunnel that led to his chamber and carefully pulled away the privacy curtain. She wanted to surprise him, but stopped dead at what she saw. Her mouth fell open and she slunk back a little, then she moved the rug away from the wall slightly, so she could feast her eyes without being seen.

Vincent had lit just one overhead lamp. She felt as if she had intruded – but could not make herself leave. Here was another surprise about her special man!

Catherine had accepted Vincent’s physical differences as an integral part of the man she loved. She wouldn’t wish to change any part of him. His leonine face was beautiful: his nose, cheeks and chin softly-furred, his arching eyebrows, that wonderful cleft in his upper lip and full lower lip. Even his canine teeth were special and she loved to see them revealed, especially when he spoke her name.

Most of all, perhaps, she loved the very masculine beauty of him – the play of his muscles under his skin. She loved to feel them against her when they made love, enjoyed watching him move naked. She had never seen him do this before, though, and she found herself entranced.

Vincent was standing naked in the centre of his chamber with his back to her. He had moved his writing table further away from his bed some time ago, but she had never asked why. Now she knew.

In the soft multi-coloured glow of the lamp, Vincent had his hands stretched over his head and was standing on tiptoe. His back muscles rippled under their soft hair as he moved his arms to the side and back above his head. He had tied back his hair with a leather thong, the first time she had ever seen him do that. His buttock muscles tensed and released as he stretched and sagged, stretched and sagged. His legs were slightly akimbo and his calf muscles bulged as he raised himself up.

Catherine found herself getting aroused and quickly tried to think of a song that would distract her. She didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. Unfortunately, the only song she could think of was "Beauty and the Beast" by Stevie Nicks. Vincent was certainly "something to see". She calmed herself by thinking of the Foundation ledgers piling up on her desk in the brownstone. She took a deep breath and watched avidly.

He put his hands on the ground between his outstretched feet and slowly began to walk them away a few steps, until he was positioned on the carpet like a large "X". Then he stretched, pulling in his stomach and arching his back until she could hear the muscles pop in his shoulders. Catherine now had a lovely view of his rear end, and what she could see hanging between his legs sent a blast of heat to her core. She resolutely dampened that with thoughts of the dusty tables in her future.

Gods, he was huge! She had never seen him from this angle. Her legs were getting shaky at the sight and she slid down the wall. She carefully kept her eye in the gap between the rug and the wall, though, eying him like a voyeur. She didn’t want to miss anything, but had to open her mouth so she could breathe properly.

Vincent now bent his knees, put his rump in the air and dropped onto his elbows. He sank his back until his stomach almost touched the floor, then dropped his rump and lifted himself up on his arms, As she watched, he undulated between this position and the arch, over and over. He moved, she thought, like … a large cat.

Catherine found it more and more difficult to remain impassive, especially when his rump was in the air and tilted towards her by the lowering of his back. She closed her eyes to try and regain her composure.

There was a grunt from Vincent and her eyes sprung open to look again. He had flipped over into a crab position and flung back his head. Then he arched his back upwards and stretched both arms and legs until he formed a canopy.

It was almost too much. Catherine now had an unobstructed view of that part of him she loved most of all, and had to hold her breath and pinch herself to prevent her arousal from taking hold. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, though, and watched as he stretched and relaxed again.

Really, the man was torturing her, she thought. If this was what he did when he left their bed early in the morning, she would never again be able to get that precious hour or so of extra sleep for thinking about him doing … this.

As she watched, she realized something more was getting stretched. His penis was now stiffening and that could only mean one thing - he knew she was watching! Catherine immediately let go of the rug at the thought, and sat in the darkness for a few moments.

What would he think of her spying on him? Indications were he didn’t mind, but that might not have been his intention. She had disturbed his privates routine. Not privates, Catherine, she told herself sternly. Private, er… personal … um … exercise.

She was debating whether to lift the rug and see what he was doing now, or leave quickly before she further embarrassed herself, when the rug was abruptly tweaked away and a pair of strong arms lifted her so quickly that she had time only for a gasp. A second later, she was on the big bed and Vincent was arched over her, his eyes glinting in the lamp light. He didn’t look annoyed and his manhood certainly looked ready for anything.

Tentatively, she reached up a hand and stroked his soft testicles and then along his stiffened penis. She was rewarded with an explosion of air from him and he abruptly dropped his upper body so he could plant his lips on top of hers.

She gave up trying to think, but desperately wanted out of her clothes. She wriggled and with his help, managed to shed them, grateful that she had put on a pair of old loose pants and a baggy sweatshirt, both of which came off easily. Her under layers came off just as quickly.

Vincent was again looming over her, barely touching her. She could hear something from deep in his chest, almost a low growl. and a rough vibration ran along her skin where their legs touched. She looked up at him, her core aching with desire. She arched her hips wantonly in welcome, a small whimper escaping her.

He moved quickly then, sliding his arms under her hips and quickly flipping her over. His hands were under her hip bones and he lifted her towards him, teasing her rump with his aroused manhood and soft testicles. She groaned softly and shivered in a desperate need for him.

Then he moved apart her legs with his knees and pulled her to him, slowly pushing his manhood into her waiting channel. She felt him enter her and sighed in relief as he swelled inside her. The vibration of his growl seemed to run through her core and set her skin tingling where their bodies touched.

He kept his hips still, but she could feel his mouth on her hair, nuzzling. Then he moved to kiss and nip the back of one ear, then run his lips and tongue along the back of her neck to the other ear. He returned to her neck, began to nip and kiss and lick it, holding her so close, she felt herself melt into him.

He began to pump and she remembered the play of muscles in his buttocks and back and felt an inferno building inside her. She could feel Vincent’s heat as well, inside and out.

They groaned in unison and suddenly he stiffened. She felt her orgasm meet his and explode into light. His deliciously moist warmth filled her. Joy blossomed along their bond as their love sang its duet.

Vincent held the position for only a moment, then slid to the bed, keeping her close and pulled her on top of his chest. He was still inside her and she could feel him pulsing, a sensation she loved. He cupped his hands around her breasts and wrapped his legs around hers, keeping her close. A soft, sensuous purr began in his abdomen and ran along her skin like silk.

Catherine sighed. She was reluctant to break the silence, but she had to know.

"Why?"

Vincent hugged her closer and she felt his unique mouth play with her ear. His whisper was deep and slow.

"Catherine, my differences are not just skin deep. My senses are more acute. My muscles are also more … feline. I can jump from great heights and I do not need to exercise to keep fit. But I do need to stretch."

"Have you always done this, then?"

"Yes, but not every day. Just when I have not done heavy work for awhile."

"Why don’t you do it in our bedroom, then? There’s lots of room and it’s warmer too."

"Catherine, look what happened when you saw me stretching. I can’t control my response to your response. I had to make love to you, exactly as I did. I was barely human."

"Nonsense, Vincent. You were as gentle and considerate as you always are, and I could feel your love filling me, completing me. That … position … is just as human as the ‘missionary’ one. I enjoyed it."

Vincent sighed. "I know." He suspected he would not win this argument, but he had to try.

"Then?"

"How can I stretch properly, knowing you are watching and becoming aroused? I have to do this, Catherine. My body screams for it after a few days. I do not get much opportunity to run and the work here below needs less of my muscle than it used to."

"But now I’ll know what you are up to, Vincent." And he certainly was "up", she thought irreverently.

"Yes, but only if you are awake. And even then you will not be sure."

Catherine sighed now.

"Very well, Vincent. I guess our lovemaking is not ‘stretching’ you enough either. I would not want to compromise your physical necessities with my incorrigible sexual need."

Vincent laughed softly.

"Catherine, our lovemaking is too pleasant to be called a stretch. I know your ‘incorrigible’ needs as well as you know mine. Have I ever refused you – or you me?"

"No – and I hope we never reach that impasse."

"We will not, I promise you, while I have breath in my body. When I have finished my stretches, if I feel your need, I will come to you. But I have to be allowed to finish them - here."

"Did you finish them today?"

"Yes. I did not realize I had an audience until then."

"I saw your response."

"I know. I felt your incorrigible need."

"I’m going to regret using that expression."

"No."

He rolled her onto her back, and with a feral grin and gleam in his eyes, he proceeded to prove it to her.

Afterwards, as they lay supine and satiated, the first breakfast call sounded over the pipes. They both groaned.

"I think I see your point, now," Catherine whispered to the soft ear under her lips.

"Yes."

"We can’t miss breakfast."

"No. And everyone will know exactly what we have been doing."

"So be it. We are both incorrigible. It’s allowed, so long as we don’t shirk our duties."

"And after those duties are completed …"

"We can revert to type," Catherine completed.

And so they did.

END