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punkshort · 17 days ago

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Just This Once

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better.

Warnings: no outbreak, language, smut (18+ MDNI), age gap, hurt/comfort, reader's mom is dead, reader has hair (length unspecified), size kink, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk

WC: 5.8K

"Your mama didn't leave all that money in her will for you to piss it away on some bullshit degree!"

Your father's hurtful words ring loudly in your ears on a loop when you storm outside, screen door slamming shut behind you.

"Asshole," you hiss under your breath repeatedly. You clench your fists tightly at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms and leaving angry little marks in your skin. Gravel crunches under your sneakers, each heavy footstep slicing through the peaceful quiet of night as you head towards the road, where your car is parked. Unfurling one hand, you reach into your purse for your car keys only to drop them in your haste. Metal skitters across asphalt and you curse again before bending to pick them up.

"The hell you doin' makin' all that racket?"

You snap your head up and peer into the darkness across the street. You recognize the voice but don't see the man - Joel Miller.

Joel has lived in the house across the street ever since your family moved to this side of town when you were a teenager. He mostly keeps to himself but throughout the years, he and your father grew pretty close. Whenever one of them needed help moving furniture or working on their trucks, they were there for each other. He was there mowing his lawn when you were taking pictures for your first formal dance. You'd see him and his daughter, Sarah, at every birthday party throughout the years. He sat next to your dad on your front porch wearing matching scowls the night your high school boyfriend brought you home from your very first date. And he was there on the day of your mother's funeral, wearing a black suit and slicked back, wavy hair with his hands clasped dutifully at his waist, looking stoic and forlorn.

"J- uh - Mr. Miller?"

You hear ice rattling in a glass and your eyes focus on his front porch, barely making out his broad shadow as he sips his whiskey.

"You havin' a tough night?" he asks. You huff and scoop up your keys before standing.

"Just another joyous dinner with my dad."

You note his silence and you cringe. What were you thinking? Of course he's not going to want to hear you speak badly about your father. So you clear your throat and try again.

"I'm just kidding-"

"You want a drink?"

Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness. He's sitting in one of his two adirondack chairs with a bottle of whiskey on the table in between. He picks the bottle up by the neck, swirling it around so you could see it. Your nose wrinkles at the thought of drinking whiskey but you find your feet moving in the direction of his house anyway. As you climb the stairs to his porch, he catches your eye and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're old enough to drink now, right?"

You roll your eyes and collapse into the chair next to him.

"Been old enough for a few years now," you mumble.

He doesn't have a spare glass outside so he tips back what's left of his drink before pouring some more and sliding it across the table for you.

"That's right. You gotta be... what? Twenty-three now?"

You shake your head and wince when the liquid passes your lips, leaving a trail of fire all the way down your throat.

"Almost twenty-six."

"Shit," he mutters to himself. He sighs and relaxes back into his chair, eyes drifting across the street to your father's house, then you do the same. The longer you sit in silence, the more your shoulders loosen up. That is, until Joel speaks.

"What had you all worked up?"

You roll your eyes and reach for the glass again, then decide against it. One sip is enough.

"Same fight we always have," you grumble. You stare at the windows, curtains pulled tight but not tight enough to hide the flicker of blue light from the television in the living room. Based on the time, you guess your dad is watching sports highlights. Or the news.

"'N what's that?" he asks.

"College," you say simply. Joel twists his head to look at you.

"College?" he repeats. "Thought you dropped out."

"I did," you tell him a little harsher than you intend. "But only because I didn't want to go to school for economics. Or nursing. Or biology. Those are degrees he deems worthy of the money my mom left me, but I don't want to do any of that."

"What do you wanna do, then?" he asks gently. You turn to meet his dark gaze and you're struck by how thoughtful and attentive he looks.

"Well," you begin, taking a deep breath, "I really love photography. So I want to go for my fine arts degree, but my dad thinks it's a waste."

You brace yourself for the reaction you're used to getting: a snort of disbelief, a cruel laugh, a shake of a head. But to your surprise, Joel smiles.

"I think that suits you."

You give him an incredulous look before jokingly pointing at the bottle. "How much have you had to drink?"

He laughs now, a deep sound that rumbles from his broad chest and makes the wrinkles next to his eyes and mouth deepen when his smile widens.

"Just had the one," he answers before leaning forward a bit in his chair. "I say it suits you 'cause for as long as I can remember, I saw you with a camera in your hand, takin' pictures of just 'bout anythin' you found worthwhile."

"You remember that?" you ask softly. Joel heard the awe in your voice and he tries to act nonchalant, giving you a casual shrug and a nervous scratch of his greying beard before replying.

"Yeah. Sure I do. Had Sarah beggin' me for a fancy camera two Christmases in a row," he says. You catch the way his eyes soften at the thought of his daughter and it makes you smile.

You sigh after a minute of silence. "Why can't my dad see it?"

Joel shrugs again. "It's different when it's your own kid," he explains. "You want somethin' steady. Somethin' practical, so you don't gotta worry 'bout 'em."

You hum under your breath and let your eyes drift back across the street, where the television was now turned off and your father's bedroom window glowed yellow. He must be getting ready for bed.

"How's Sarah doing, anyway?"

"She's great," he answers. "Studyin' abroad in Spain for the semester. Miss her like fuckin' crazy, though. Place is real lonely."

When you tilt your head to look at Joel again, you're surprised to find him already gazing at you, but something about it feels different. Like the air is suddenly charged.

You open your mouth to say something but when his eyes drop to your parted lips, the words die on your tongue.

Then, as if he noticed the shift as well, he blinks and looks away, clearing his throat.

You should have taken it as your cue to go. It's late and you still have to drive back to your apartment downtown, but something keeps you planted in his chair. Something that tugs at you, a curiosity that grows somewhere in the back of your head.

Something that wishes he would look at you like that again.

"No lady in your life to keep you company?" you ask boldly.

He cracks a small smile and shakes his head. "Nah. Hard startin' over at this age."

Your chest aches a little when you see the brief look of sadness cross his face, which he quickly shakes off.

"How 'bout you?" he asks, and you feel your heart skip a beat. He locks eyes with you again. "You got a guy you're lookin' to have struck with the fear of god by me 'n your old man?"

Joel smirks at his joke and you could politely laugh and answer, but instead you keep your gaze fixed and without a flicker of humor, you murmur, "Nope. I am very unattached at the moment."

His smile falters and across the street, the light in your dad's bedroom turns off. Your tongue shoots out to quickly lick your lips and you aren't sure what burns more: the remnants of whiskey or the heat from Joel's stare.

He looks like he's debating on how to answer. Similar to yourself, he's sensing something unexpected building, something you are both trying to tread around lightly. Finally, the devil on his shoulder wins the fight.

"Find that hard to believe."

The air feels paper thin. Every inhale seems to make you feel dizzier, but you know it isn't the air - it's him.

"Oh?" you breathe.

He nods, looking more determined now. Confident. You feel your cheeks grow hot and you're grateful for the cover of night. Fortunately, his intense gaze drops to the table between you, giving you a second to gather yourself. But he really does only give you a second because he asks, "Didn't care for the whiskey?"

You shake your head. "Not much of a whiskey girl."

"You wanna come inside? I can get you somethin' else."

Come inside. Your heart beats fast and your legs shake from how hard you're pressing them together. Is he just being polite or is he asking what you think he's asking?

And if he is asking what you think he's asking... is that something you want?

Joel's a good looking guy, especially for his age, but you never thought about him like that before. But tonight, spending time one on one, you are privy to a different side of him. One that listens to you and apparently pays attention to your interests. It has you seeing him in a completely different light.

"Yeah," you whisper. Your voice sounds a little thicker than you expect and it has him smiling as he stands. He picks up the glass and the bottle, then nods towards his front door. You swallow, force yourself to your feet, and follow him inside.

It looks different than you remember, although in reality, it probably had hardly changed a bit. Same old carpet, same couch, same television... It wasn't so much the house, but the reason you were there that made it feel strange. You weren't there to visit Sarah or come scoop up your dad when he was drinking too much watching some football game with Joel. You're there for something else, and more importantly, you're there alone for the very first time.

"What can I get you?"

"Hmm?" You swivel around to face him, hoping your nerves weren't showing now that the soft glow from his kitchen lights illuminated your face.

He gives you a knowing smirk and points to his fridge. "To drink?"

"Oh," you say, "uh, just water."

Joel frowns. "You sure? I got beer, tequila, and some fruity shit in a can that Sarah left."

You're tempted to take something stronger but ultimately shake your head. He pulls a glass from his cabinet and fills it with chilled water from a pitcher in his fridge while your eyes dart around the room. You smile to yourself. The place is clean but there were certainly signs a bachelor lives there. There's a calendar on the wall that's a month behind, a dirty skillet in the sink, and coffee grounds scattered on the counter next to the canister.

"Here," he says, handing you the cold glass. You take it and bring it to your lips, watching as he pours himself a small splash of whiskey. He stares down at the brown liquid, contemplative, like he was struggling to make a decision. Then, as if he found his answer, he tosses the drink back in one go and nods before catching your eye again.

"Am I-"

Joel cuts himself off with a dry laugh. His palm swipes over his mouth nervously before trying again.

"Am I, uh, readin' things wrong? Or is there somethin' goin' on here?"

Your heart rate spikes at his forward question but you give him credit - he's putting the choice entirely on you. He's giving you an out. However, you swallow thickly and shake your head.

"No," you all but whisper. "You're not wrong."

You shakily place your glass on the counter next to you, knowing full well you are about to cross a very dangerous line, but the utter excitement swirling in your stomach and the arousal pulling between your legs has you ignoring all of the potential consequences of your decision.

Joel stares at you in shock from his place next to the sink, as if he can't quite believe his ears.

"You're shittin' me, right?"

His voice is laced with so much disbelief that it has you feeling kind of high, so you smirk and take a few steps forward, hoping you're coming off as assertive. You don't really blame him for being surprised. Hell, you even surprised yourself tonight, but something told you that you wouldn't regret your choice.

"No," you reply slowly, and this time you allow your gaze to travel down his chiseled jaw and across the broad expanse of his chest, making sure there was no mistaking your attraction for him before locking eyes again. "Unless... do you want me to go?"

Joel's eyes flicker nervously towards the front of the house and you wonder if he's thinking about you leaving or what your father would think if you stayed.

You get your answer soon enough.

"No," he says firmly. And in one long stride he closes the distance between you, wraps one arm around your middle, and tugs you forward while pressing his lips hungrily against yours.

It steals your breath at first, the surprising softness of his lips combined with the burning remains of whiskey on his tongue. It's so much better than you expected, too. He's gentle in the way he holds you and guides you backwards, yet there is no mistaking his eagerness when his tongue tangles with yours. The coarse hairs from his beard burn your chin in the most delicious way and you wonder when this is all over, if you still feel that tingle every now and then as a reminder.

Every backwards step towards his living room has the heat flaring hotter between your thighs. Your fingers claw at his shoulders, searching for stability, for something to keep you on this planet because you swear if you let go, you would just float away. You have no idea what's come over you, but you can't remember ever wanting somebody this badly before.

Your legs collide with the couch and you're both so lost in tasting one another that you stumble a bit before clumsily collapsing onto the cushion. Without breaking the kiss, you throw your leg over his lap. Your hands drift up to his thick, wavy hair and his find a home over your ass, fingers plucking uselessly at the denim shorts you had on.

The only sounds that fill the room are the ticking from the clock on the mantle, your shared heavy breaths, and the creaking from the leather couch underneath your knees. That is, until you roll your hips forward, grinding down on his lap. Joel lets out a deep groan and you swear you feel a shudder shoot through his whole body.

"Christ," he rasps, pulling away so he can catch his breath. You smile as you trail kisses down his neck, pleased with how wrecked he sounded already. His hands knead the flesh of your ass as you make your way down. Your tongue dips into the hollow at the base of his throat, licking up the dried sweat and moaning at the taste when he asks, "Are you sure 'bout this?"

He sounds conflicted, like the last thing on earth he wants to do is stop, but his moral compass got the better of him. You unlatch yourself from his neck and sit up straight, hips slowly grinding down on his lap as you gaze down at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"I'm sure," you tell him, voice firm and certain. You feel the corner of your mouth curl when his swollen lips part to release a soft noise when your clothed center rubs along his cock, stiff and straining in his jeans.

"Okay," he whispers, messy curls flopping forward when his chin drops to watch you move. "Just this once."

A thrill shoots through you, electrifying your limbs and jump starting your heart.

Your head falls to capture his lips in one more wet kiss before you push yourself off the couch to stand. Joel remains seated with his legs spread wide and he watches with his chest heaving as you unbutton your denim shorts, letting them playfully fall to the carpeted floor.

You're feeling pretty good. Your confidence is through the roof at the way Joel's jaw drops a little when you slide your panties down your legs, but it was short lived.

You lean forward to help him with the zipper on his jeans and his hips lift so he can shove the fabric down, just to his knees, apparently too eager to rid himself of them entirely. You allow him the honor of pushing down the band of his boxers and your breath gets caught in your throat when you see the size of him for the first time.

Just like that, your confidence washes away and your eyes widen. You think you can handle his length but it's his girth that gives you pause.

It's as if your composure transfers right to Joel because he clocks your reaction and he smirks with a smug look on his face. His fist wraps tightly around his cock when he says, "It's alright, you can take it. We'll go slow."

"Okay," you say softly. You straddle his lap again, knees sinking into the soft leather, as you both stare down at his leaking shaft between your bodies. Slowly, you rock your hips, letting him slide between your folds and you gasp when the tip of his cock catches on your clit with every pass.

His hands rest on your waist, gently helping you move back and forth while he watches in awe as you cover him with your slick. Your eyes flutter closed and you sink your teeth into your lower lip, breathing in deep through your nose and feeling your muscles relax. Every time he slips through your folds, the ache in your cunt grows tighter.

"Fuck, J- uh, Mr. M-"

Your hips still and you open your eyes as the realization hits you both at the same time that you have never called him by his first name before. It should have filled you with shame or at least some guilt, but instead you feel yourself dripping even more sticky arousal onto his skin. Joel feels it and chuckles.

"Think we're past formalities, darlin'."

Your eyes flash in the darkness of his living room and you give him a sly grin.

"Yeah, guess so," you breathe, hips resuming their slow pace up and down the underside of his cock. "Unless you're into that sort of thing..."

Joel growls and his hands dig into your waist, moving you a little faster on his lap.

"Way you're soakin' me, I'd say you're the one who's got a thing."

You laugh breathlessly and circle your arms around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth closer, needing to feel his lips on your skin once again.

"Maybe I do," you admit, mostly joking when you lean in to graze your lips against his ear to give it a try. "I want you to fuck me, Mr. Miller."

Joel's teeth find your shoulder and he gives you a playful nip, but other than that, he remains stoic. So, you try again.

"Think I'll be sore tomorrow, Mr. Miller?" you prod. His dick twitches between your legs and his breathing stalls, but still, he says nothing.

You briefly think you might be crossing a line, but you go for it anyway when you whisper, "When you see my dad tomorrow, are you gonna be thinking about this, Mr. Mill-"

Joel tosses his head back so he can grab your jaw, cutting you off with his thumb and forefinger digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes look fiery and his teeth grind together as he stares daggers at you. For a second, you think you fucked up, but then he says, "You gonna run your mouth all night or are you gonna sit on my cock?"

A wide smile breaks across your face but it's restricted by his firm grip on your jaw. You shuffle onto your knees, raising your hips in the air so you could line him up at your entrance, but then he releases your chin and stops you.

"Wait," he murmurs, then two fingers slide through your pussy, collecting your arousal and making you gasp at the contact. Your eyes lock and he pops both fingers in his mouth with a groan. His eyelids droop closed for a moment as he savors your taste, the sight causing your mouth to go dry and your knees to feel weak.

"C'mere," he rasps, hand curling around the back of your neck and pulling you down. Your mouths collide and his tongue slips easily past your lips, offering you a taste of yourself while his other hand holds himself steady and nudges at your opening.

Slowly, you begin to sink down. The stretch gives you pause almost immediately and you whimper into his mouth. With one hand still cupping the back of your head, he breaks the kiss but presses your foreheads together as you both fight for air.

"'S okay, take your time," he says, but his voice is strained and his words are slurring, already feeling drunk off you.

You nod and try to take more. Another inch disappears inside you and your thighs tremble as you focus on breathing.

"You're so big," you whine when you take another inch. A shaky breath slips past his lips and his hand tightens around the back of your neck.

"Easy," he warns when you try to go too fast. You cry out softly and pause again, frustrated that you can't take him faster. Joel senses it and presses a kiss against your lips.

"Don't rush," he says, "wanna really feel you."

Just this once. You suppose since this wasn't going to happen again, you should make it count. Go slow, like he says.

"Touch me," you whisper, your nose brushing gently alongside his. Your eyes close and your fingers curl into the tense muscles of his back, then you sigh with relief when his thumb grazes your clit.

"Like that?" he asks, swirling circles over your bundle of nerves. You nod.

His touch softens you and you feel your muscles stretching and relaxing as you press further down. It's when you are nearly seated in his lap that his lips feverishly seek out yours once again, slotting together and muffling your moans when your hips grow flush with his.

"Y-you-" he stammers against your lips as you both work on adjusting to the feeling of your cunt wrapped snugly around his sizable length. He swallows and tries again. "So good, darlin'. S-so tight, fuck-" he groans, then flexes his hips, pushing himself as deep as he can possibly go. You wince and cry out, but he shushes you. "'S alright," he pants, "I got you. Just... just stay still a second, okay?"

You nod, mind a blur as he wraps his arms around your middle and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He sighs and slowly flexes his hips again, but it doesn't hurt the second time. You rest your cheek on the side of his head and close your eyes, allowing him to do whatever it is he wants to do.

His hands roam greedily around your body, thick fingers stretching to touch as much of you as possible. You feel his heart hammering in his chest and you think yours might be beating in rhythm with his, but you can't be certain because all your focus is drawn to the fullness between your legs and the soft noises emanating from the man underneath you.

"Talk to me," you whisper. His hands still and you hear him swallow.

"Say my name."

You don't process it at first, mind still slow and foggy like you were drunk, but you only had one sip of whiskey. Then, you realize what he wanted.

"Joel."

He groans, the vibrations transferring from his mouth to your chest. One of his hands slides up your thin shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your breast. "Again."

You moan his name and tip your head back, curling your spine so you push more of your chest into his palm. Two fingers pinch and roll your nipple and you gasp, then whisper his name again.

Just when you think you can't take much more and you will have to resort to begging, Joel melts into the couch and gazes up at you with the softest pair of eyes. He looks like a completely different man: his face is relaxed and he stares at you like you're the only two people on earth. Like you weren't his friend's daughter and there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing. He looks at you like he's just a man and you're just a woman who holds the secrets of the universe in her hands.

He doesn't ask you to move, but he doesn't stop you when you slowly begin to rock your hips forward, either. The first few passes are tough. The stretch of his cock sliding in and out of you, even just a little bit, is an adjustment. But the more you move, the easier it becomes, and all the while Joel has his eyes pinned on you. He sees the way you screw your face up when the pressure is too much, then the way your brows relax and your breath evens out.

"How's it feel?" he asks when it becomes clear you are no longer in discomfort. You roll your hips steadily and link your arms around his neck.

"Good," you say truthfully, "so deep, and so full."

"Yeah?" he asks. "Anyone ever been this deep?" He punctuates his question with a snap of his hips and your mouth falls open. You find it difficult to answer when he's thrusting upwards, the power behind it already forming a dull ache somewhere deep inside you, so he asks again.

"No," you whisper.

"Yeah, that's right," he grumbles. He drops his gaze to watch you bounce on his lap, to watch the way your cunt spreads to accommodate him. Both his hands curl around the tops of your thighs as you move, squeezing your muscles like he needed to confirm you were real before sliding his palms up to rest on the crease of your hips.

You have no idea how you'll ever be satisfied with another man ever again now that you've felt what it's like to have Joel split you open and chase away every stressful, lingering thought from your brain. Just this once, just this once, just-

"More," you gasp, thighs tight and aching from supporting your weight. His fingers press into your skin and he begins to guide you, moving you up and down as he stares deep into your eyes.

"So soft," he murmurs. Your skin prickles at the wonder in his voice. "Everythin' 'bout you is so warm 'n soft. Gonna drive me fuckin' crazy, darlin'."

You move a little faster and you wish you had the foresight to pull his shirt off earlier. You want to see him - all of him - so you drop your hands to the hem of his shirt and slide them under it, instead. His breath sharpens when your palms run over the soft swell of his stomach, fingers mapping every inch of his skin and piecing together what he must look like from touch alone. Then, your hand sweeps over his heart. You feel the rapid thump right there, right under the pads of your fingers, and his dark brown eyes find yours. They look a little wild, a little wrecked, but mostly they look at you with adoration while you continue to ride him with every ounce of strength you have.

His breath grows ragged, just like yours. You easily drop yourself down onto his lap over and over, body now fully relaxed and open and accustomed to his size. He grunts each time his cock disappears inside you and his jaw starts to tighten when he meets you, thrust for thrust.

"Look at you," he breathes, "takin' me so well. Perfect little cunt, fuck-"

Your eyelids flutter and your mouth drops open, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to your peak. You can feel the heat pooling low at the base of your spine and your breathing is reduced to sharp gasps.

His hands push and pull your body up and down - fast - and it has your fingers digging into his chest for balance underneath his shirt.

"Shit... feels so good," he moans, jaw slack and eyes glassy as he watches you whine and writhe in his lap. Sweat dots your forehead and you feel that familiar crest swelling deep inside.

"Joel-" you pant, voice cracked and hoarse. He blinks and catches the way your hips stutter. His hands slide up your back and press you forward, into his chest, and you tiredly slump against his shoulder.

"I got you," he murmurs before harshly snapping his hips. You moan his name and squeeze your eyes shut, the new angle stealing your breath and making your thighs shake. A hand presses on the base of your spine, pushing you down and holding you still while he fucks up into you. Each bruising thrust has you whimpering into his neck but you're so fucking close, you just sit there and take it until the dam breaks and you practically scream out his name, your voice echoing off the walls in the dark, otherwise silent house.

He's saying something but your ears are ringing too loudly and your blood is pumping too fast for you to make it out. His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your back and his voice is soft and calming and it's exactly what you need.

The ache between your legs forms into a burn from how hard he fucks you, chasing his own high now that he knew you were taken care of. Your lips press weak kisses against his throat. You feel the vibrations from his grunts and the salty taste of his skin when you whisper inside before he can even ask.

"Yeah? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy?"

His voice is thick and rough. You peel your eyes open and tip your head so you can watch his face contort and his mouth fall open. He breathes sharply when his cock swells inside you and you smile at the instant relief painted across his face. His palm still flattens against your lower back, holding you in place as he pumps you full of his release. Then you feel his muscles relax and his grip around you loosens with a deep sigh.

"Christ," he murmurs after a long stretch of silence. You giggle and he grins before his hand cups your jaw and pulls you up for a kiss. It's so tender that it leaves you breathless and you hardly even notice he's sliding out of you until a sharp pang deep inside reminds you and you whine.

"You did good," he says softly, still holding you close in his lap. "Feel alright?"

"Mhm," you nod with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. He gives you a lazy smile and pushes a stray piece of hair away from your face. Your heart lurches at the sweet gesture and you smile back.

A car slowly lumbers down the street, between Joel's and your father's houses. It draws your attention outside and you frown at how dark it is.

"What time is it?"

Joel sighs and squints at the mantle clock. "Almost one."

"Shit," you mutter, then go to stand. "I should get going."

"You can stay," he says quickly. You are in the middle of picking up your clothes from his floor and you pause to meet his eye. He shrugs. "I mean, if you wanna."

Place is real lonely. His words from earlier filter through your brain and you feel guilty when you shake your head.

"I ... I can't. My car - he'll see."

"Oh," Joel whispers, then nods like it's no big deal. Like he was just being nice with his offer and it didn't matter to him either way. But you saw the disappointment in his face before he dropped his chin to fix his pants and a sharp pang splits your chest.

He stands to adjust his pants and you excuse yourself to use his bathroom. After cleaning yourself up, you rifle through your purse for a pen but come up empty. Instead, you pull out a tube of lipstick and you grin when you scrawl your number on his mirror. You shove it back in your purse and fix your hair before descending the stairs to find him in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. He holds out your glass from earlier and you shake your head.

"I'm gonna head out then," you say.

"Alright."

He walks slowly behind you, holding open the door to the quiet night air when you turn to look at him one more time. You know it's a little risky, but it's late, your dad's house is dark, and you're quick. You stretch up on your tiptoes to give Joel one last, lingering kiss, then step backwards onto his porch.

"Thanks for tonight."

He laughs quietly and leans against the doorframe. "I should be thankin' you."

You don't say anything. You grin and take a few more steps backwards before swiveling around and jogging lightly down his steps. When you make it to your car, you resist the urge to look back to see if he's still watching you from his front door.

You smile to yourself as you drive down the empty street, the dull ache between your legs and the burn on your skin from his beard both pleasant reminders of your unexpected evening.

But later that night, when your phone pings with a text from an unknown number right as you're getting ready for bed, something tells you it will be more than just this once.

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lukesaprince · 6 months ago

Text

The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you.

“Go on Tinder dates.”

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything.

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed.

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away.

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh.

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea.

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore.

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night.

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards.

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships.

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased.

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now.

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question.

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together.

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least.

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry.

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking.

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you.

“Can I ask you something?”

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right?

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome.

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence.

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so.

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…”

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life.

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage.

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you.

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty.

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did.

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man.

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on.

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores.

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual.

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate.

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn’t an innocent kiss that’s for sure.

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth.

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait.

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke.

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.”

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway.

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house.

You could see yourself being very comfortable here.

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe.

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date.

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this.

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating.

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man.

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt.

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day.

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is.

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you?

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts.

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to.

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table.

“They are.” You defended.

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face.

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else.

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him.

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?”

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon.

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you.

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones.

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic.

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up.

“What?” You chuckled.

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.”

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently.

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy.

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe.

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck.

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now.

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap.

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again.

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands.

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table.

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too.

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans.

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could.

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so.

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face.

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done.

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out.

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it. “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth.

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you.

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.”

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could.

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body.

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it.

“That can be arranged.”

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless.

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear.

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out.

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him.

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit.

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire.

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.”

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth.

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.”

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more.

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous.

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would.

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received.

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth.

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling.

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him.

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours.

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband.

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.”

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you.

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table.

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him.

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately.

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you.

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist.

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy.

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene.

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling?

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again.

Starting with tonight.

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch.

“Yeah”

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek.

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air.

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again.

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved.

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.”

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close.

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way.

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny.

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh.

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick.

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him.

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you.

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him.

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious.

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down.

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards.

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms.

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.”

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom.

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind.

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself.

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue.

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down.

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat.

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.”

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced.

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now.

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?”

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle.

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name.

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.”

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue.

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.”

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum.

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you.

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it.

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever.

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion.

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more.

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over.

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going.

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.”

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

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