Mature Harry Imagines

The Tease

Suddenly, he stopped. I opened my eyes at the same time I felt him leave the bed. He reached beneath the bed and pulled out a long, slender object. I recognized it instantly, even though I'd never seen it before. My eyes were wide as Harry returned to his position on the bed, expressing the question I couldn't say.

He shook his head once, to silence me. We'd never done this before and now, aching against the absence of Harry's fingers, I was in no position to refuse. He turned the vibrator on, and I felt myself shudder again.

He raised it to my breast first, setting the shaft against the nipple. I gasped at the new sensation, my waist and arms twisting against the unfamiliarity. Harry lifted his other hand and cupped my notch, placing enough weight on it to keep me still. I moaned around the gag as he slid two fingers inside me while he moved the vibrator around my breast, alternating between pressing against the body and then gently touching the nipple.

My breath was coming in increasing gasps. I'd never had this much stimulation, ever. My mind was everywhere at once, trying to concentrate at the vibrations in my breast, the thrusting of Harry's fingers, and Harry himself, whose eyes were narrowed in smug satisfaction as he watched me writhe beneath him. And yet I could not muster the energy to protest. The pleasure was too much, making me moan limply against the gag, making me grip the wire bedframe to steady myself, making my toes curl and my feet to strain against their bonds.

Harry moved the vibrator from my breast, trailing it slowly down my body. He pulled his fingers out of me, using them to slide my wetness in a trail up my abdomen and back to my breasts. He rested the vibrator on my hip until I groaned at him beneath the gag. I needed it inside me. I couldn't take this. I'd never felt one before, but if I couldn't have Harry's cock, it was the next best thing.

Slowly, excruciatingly, Harry idled the vibrator towards my wetness. I thrashed with need, trying to move my hips so that I was directly beneath the vibrations; in vain, of course. I couldn't even look at Harry anymore; it took too much effort to hold my head up. I stared up at the ceiling beneath explosions of color. Fuck. I needed him–it–something inside of me, right now.

He pressed the vibrator against my clit, and I screamed. The noise was muffled by the gag. I lifted my head again, gasping for breath as I watched Harry press the shaft against my needy flesh. Names and curses were jumbled together beneath the gag as Harry moved the shaft around my clit.

Suddenly, he removed it. I wailed, lifting my head again to see what he was doing. He chose that moment to thrust it inside of me.

I screamed again. A part of me wondered what he must think, to hear me moaning and screaming against his gag, but that part was lost amongst the pleasure coursing through me. Sensation was bursting through me, stimulated by the vibrations between my legs. I couldn't think, I couldn't see, I could only feel–and the feeling was consuming me.

"Are you sorry yet?"

Harry pulled the vibrator out slowly, so only the tip was resting against my entrance. I panted for breath, my legs trembling against the pleasure and the bonds. I summoned the energy to lift my head one last time at Harry. I couldn't even phrase an interrogative noise. I merely gasped for air beneath the gag. Only then did I realize his hand had left my breast; he was pumping his own cock as he watched me writhe beneath him.

"Are you sorry yet for being a teasing little slut?" He thrust the shaft inside me again, making me wail once more, throwing my head back against the mattress. He rocked the vibrator in and out of me, drawing it upwards to rub against my clit after each thrust.

My eyes were rolling. I knew I was drooling beneath the gag. My hands were fighting against the bedframe. But I didn't care. All I cared about was Harry, pumping something in and out of me. I was sorry. I wasn't sorry. I was whatever required him to finish me off, to make me reach that pinnacle that only Harry could take me to.

He pushed the vibrator in harder, and I screamed against the gag. It was several seconds before I realized he had stopped rocking it in and out of me, that he was clambering up on the bed above me. He pulled off the gag, finally exposing my moans of need to the echoing room. He braced himself against the bedframe again and thrust his hips forward–this time, I accepted his hard cock as he forced it into my mouth.

He fucked hard, the tip of his erection pushing against the back of my throat, forcing my head harder and harder into the pillow. I couldn't see anything but the V of Harry's abdomen, muscles clenched as he fucked in and out of my mouth. I gasped at each intake, fighting for breath against the combined effect of his erection in my throat and the vibrator still stimulating my wetness.

"Take it," I heard him hiss. I couldn't even raise my gaze, with my head forced to curve around his cock, but I could visualize his face. Eyes ablaze with a fiery passion that I felt with every buck of his hips. "Take it all, you teasing slut."

I couldn't breathe. He was choking me, his erection swelling to fill my airway. I moaned around his cock and he responded with increasingly savage thrusts. When I thought I couldn't take it any more, he rumbled above me. I braced myself, and thick, hot cum poured into my mouth. I held my breath while he fucked four more slow, deliberate shoves, until I felt his body shudder with defeat. He slowly pulled out of me and I swallowed quickly, gasping for breath.

The room was quiet except for the low buzzing of the vibrator and our panting. Harry collapsed beside me, facedown again, one hand closed around my breast.

"Fuck, Harry." I was a mess. I still felt sticky from the cum on my breasts he'd wiped off earlier, plus the saliva from the gag down my cheeks, and now the accumulated sweat of a lap dance and two rounds of exquisite sex with Harry. I wanted a shower. I couldn't feel the vibrations between my legs anymore; my lips were numbed by overuse in one spot.

Harry reached down and turned off the vibrator. He pulled it out slowly and I arched as it left my body.

"I didn't come from that. You owe me an orgasm," I told Harry.

He smiled, reaching for another paper towel to clean the vibrator off. "It's on its way."

I watched him wipe off the shaft. "With that?"

The doorbell rang and I jumped, pulling against my bonds. I looked at Harry in panic, but to my surprise, he was smiling. "Told you it was on its way."

"What?"

He grinned, now throwing on a new pair of boxers. "That picture I took earlier. It was a snapchat. Niall's at the door, and he's ready for his turn."