(Author's note: the main characters are both British, so UK spellings are used throughout.)
*
"What about there?" Stephanie asked, as they stopped on the crest of the hill and looked down at the small red-tiled town in the valley below. "I bet there's a campsite there."
Alan leaned forward, resting on the handlebars of his bicycle, catching his breath. Stephanie was proving fitter than he was, or maybe it was because he was too much of a gentleman to allow her to carry her fair share of their touring equipment.
"Yeah," he replied. "We've done fifty miles today. Time we found somewhere to camp."
She hopped back up onto her saddle and rolled down the hill towards the town, picking up speed, her red hair flying in the breeze. Alan kicked his heavily laden touring cycle into motion with a sigh, and followed her down the hill.
They found the campsite easily enough, and pitched their small tents. By now, a week into the two-week tour along the Loire valley of France, they were quite expert at it.
This hadn't been where they'd intended to camp. They'd been delayed fixing a broken chain on Stephanie's bike. When it became obvious they wouldn't reach their destination for the day, they'd stopped at a small village with a boulangerie and charcuterie, and bought some bread, ham, cheese, olives and wine for their evening meal, in case they had to camp in a field at the roadside. But Stephanie had set a good pace and they'd made it to this town with plenty of time before it got dark.
They settled down in front of the tents to share their dinner. The wine flowed freely, and soon both were a little drunk.
"Alex? That dickhead?" she giggled. "He just wanted a pretty girl to take to his lawyer functions. I'm well shot of him!"
The conversation had drifted round to previous partners, and Stephanie was listing all the flaws of her previous boyfriends.
"I swear he'd have forgotten my name if he didn't use it so much begging me for sex!" Then she put him on the spot: "What about you, though? I've not seen a hint of any girlfriends at all. If it wasn't for what John tells me, I'd think you weren't interested in girls!"
John was Stephanie's brother. The three of them had shared a student flat for most of the last year. It was in John's name, and when his sister had needed somewhere to stay, soon after their previous flatmate had suddenly quit university, John had offered the vacant room to her. The three of them got on very well, and so they'd planned this cycling holiday together for the summer. Unfortunately, two days in, John had slipped at a campsite and sprained his ankle, so had had to give up. Alan and Stephanie had decided to continue, though.
Alan blushed. "Well my break up with Fiona last year was a bit rough, Steph. I didn't really feel like jumping straight back in after that. And then I... I just haven't found the right girl."
He looked up and their eyes met. Something in his gaze made the penny drop in her mind - told her that he had found a girl he fancied, but was to nervous to ask. And that girl was her.
"Alan, why're you looking at me like that?" she asked, deciding to force the issue. She was fond of him, and thinking about it she realised that over the last week her fondness had grown.
"Do you fancy me?" she asked, with a mock coy smile. She might as well get a little fun out of teasing him. "Plain little me?" she grinned, coquettishly.
She was anything but plain, truth be told. She had flaming red hair, which she wore long, and a slender figure. Her small breasts were prominent under her tight pale blue cycling top, and her loose knee-length shorts revealed elegant calves.
"I, er, I..." Alan stuttered.
"You're not going to jump on me, are you?" she giggled. "Have you been trying to get me tipsy so you can have your wicked way with me?"
"Steph, don't be like that!" he replied, a little annoyed with her now, and he started to get up.
"Sorry," she said, suddenly contrite. "That wasn't fair, was it?" And she leaned forward and placed a single brief kiss on his lips, by way of an apology, catching him unexpectedly.
They froze and looked into each other's eyes, only six inches apart. The moment stretched out.
"Steph..." Alan said, hesitantly, and leaned forward to kiss her back.
Suddenly they were kissing passionately. Their mouths opened and their arms reached round each other. Alan was stroking her beautiful red hair and she was running her fingers along his jaw line.
A desperate lust overtook Alan, and he pressed forward, slowly pushing her flat onto the grass. His knee nudged her legs apart, and she curled one foot round the back of his calf. Her wine glass was carelessly knocked aside, the red liquid spilling across the grass. His other hand slid up her side, towards her left breast.
"Oh, Alan," she moaned, carried away by the moment.
But Alan suddenly had qualms about the speed with which things were happening. He broke the kiss and rolled off her.
"Steph, are you sure about this? We're both a bit drunk. I don't wanna spoil things between us."
She looked back at him, cheeks flushed. The moment had been broken.
"Well, I guess..." she replied, and sighed. A deep sigh that did wonderful things to her modest chest.
By mutual unvoiced decision, they retired to their separate tents, even though it was a little early to sleep. Neither dared come out again to wash and get ready for bed, in case they met the other, so they both crashed out in their cycling clothes. The wine and exercise ensured they were soon both fast asleep.