-To be loved is to be changed-
Harry Edward Styles, 20 year old college student and golden boy of the University of Southern California Tojan's football team has been secretly pining over Dorothea (Thea) since he first saw her sitting in his middle...
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"Oh, my god, Harry. Hold still!" Thea chides as she palms the top of my head harder and tips it back to hold me steady.
"I can't be still because it's fucking cold!"
"Soothing," she corrects, continuing to paint light strokes across my forehead with the silicone brush.
"Nothing is soothing about pink soft-serve ice cream being slathered onto your face," I gripe.
She pauses, pulling the brush still layered with product away from my skin. The bored expression she sports from above tells me she's close to done with my complaining. I'm the one who asked for this, after all.
Bowing out now is out of the question. I'm in too deep and know better than to back on an idea I came up with. I just didn't realize what exactly I'd be getting myself into when suggesting it.
Curiosity killed the cat. It's me, I'm the cat.
Motivated by my need to know every minute detail about this girl, I made a mistake by insisting she take me through what she calls a 'self-care night.' A yearning to know every mundane thing she spends her time alone doing. I want to know everything. I want to know her, inside and out.
It seemed like a good idea. A way to spend time together at home doing something other than laying in bed or watching movies on the couch. Something to deepen our intimacy with our clothes still on. But I was so, so wrong. This is torture. I don't believe anyone could enjoy this.
"First of all, it's insulting that you could compare an almost $25 face mask to ice cream. And second of all, I've heard about your affinity for ice baths post-practice so don't give me that shit." She tips me back further with force, causing a grunt to crawl up my throat from the position my neck is in. "Now, stop whining. This was your idea."
A smirk tips the corner of my mouth up. "You're sexy when you're being bossy, baby." I punctuate my words by running my hands up the back of her thighs, fingertips curled along the inside, and squeezing her ass. Her very voluptuous and full ass.
I would say I'm an ass man, but in truth, I'm just a Dorothea man. I'll take any part of her body I can get. It just so happens to be that this is the easiest place for me to reach in our current position. Me on the closed toilet seat with her standing between my spread legs.
"Harry," she scolds as I take another squeeze and start gently kneading.
Forget what I said about keeping our clothes on because now all I want to do is get her out of the tiny spandex shorts she's in. Ever since we broke through the barrier that is physical intimacy a couple of weeks ago, I've been insatiable. The urge to hear her moan because of the pleasure I give her is constant. I replay the little gasps and the way my name tumbles from her lips when she comes every single night before I go to sleep.
We haven't taken it further than that. I make her come on my fingers, taking satisfaction in the fact that she so easily falls breathless at my touch, and then I'll disappear to take care of myself. She's tried a few times now to return the favor, but I won't let her. For now, this is strictly about her and I'm more than happy to let that be.
