One Direction Preferences

Fifty Shades of...

Styles: “Suddenly he grabs me, tipping me across his lap. With one smooth movement, he angles his body so my torso is resting on the bed beside him. He throws his right leg over both mine and plants his left forearm on the small of my back, holding me down so I cannot move … He places his hand on my naked behind, softly fondling me, stroking around and around with his flat palm. And then his hand is no longer there … and he hits me—hard.”

His strong hold keeps me in my place, my throat bobbing as I attempt not to yelp with each smack of his large hands against my ass. His fingers spread over me after each slap, soothing me, comforting me. Six, I counted, six marks sure to redden my skin. Coolness dampened the sore spot, his palm now caressing my flesh. With one moment he could be so rigid, hard, holding me down as I took my spanking and in the next he was holding me, his body soft against mine as he whispered. “You’re my good girl.”

Tomlinson: “He leans down and kisses me, his fingers still moving rhythmically inside me, his thumb circling and pressing. His other hand scoops my hair off my head and holds my head in place. His tongue mirrors the actions of his fingers, claiming me. My legs begin to stiffen as I push against his hand. He gentles his hand, so I’m brought back from the brink … I come instantly again and again, falling apart beneath him … then I’m building again … I climax anew, calling out his name.”

My body is bound to the posts of the wooden frame of his bed, back arched, legs spread as I am presented for him. I gasp as his hand meets my center, spreading my wetness along my lips. He finds pleasure in the way my chest heaves, head back while moans emerge from my throat, his hands working to move me closer and closer to my arousal, two digits losing themselves inside me, swiveling through me. As though he knew it would take me there, the tip of his tongue pressed against my clitoris, mimicking the swirling of his fingers within me. Just as my body begins to pulsate he slows his pace, my lip trembling as he teaches. “Hold on for me.” He speeds up again until I am writhing. Again he continues with his torturous game, my climax coming over and over again, giving him the assurance of his possession.

Horan: “He flexes his hips so his erection pushes against me … Yes. Right there … He runs his teeth along my chin, eases back, then slides into me again—so slow, so sweet, so tender—his body pressing down on me, his elbows and his hands on either side of my face. ‘Oh, Ana,’ he breathes as he lets go, my name a benediction on his lips as he finds his release. His head rests on my belly, his arms wrapped around me … I just want to enjoy the quiet serene afterglow of making love with Christian Grey, because that’s what we’ve done: gentle, sweet lovemaking.”

His lips lock with my throat as he continues his rough thrusts, so fast, carnal in a sense. My fingers fisted through his blonde hair, holding him so his blue eyes stared into mine, seeming to melt before my gaze. Instantly he slowed, our mouths brushing against each other, sounds clashing while he made sure I could feel every pressing inch of him. My sweetness glides over him, his love filling me as we made love, unable to break away from each other, bodies soaked with tenderness, reminiscing in the moments before, the feeling of one another.

Payne:  “I pull him deeper into my mouth so I can feel him at the back of my throat and then to the front again. My tongue swirls around the end. He’s my very own Christian Grey-flavored popsicle. I suck harder and harder … Hmm … My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.”

All the way, in and out, up and down my head goes, feeling his response to me as he struggles to keep his hips still, restraining himself from taking complete control of my mouth. His erection throbs at the back of my throat, a small gag on my lips as I pull away from him again, my tongue flicking over his tip, swirling around him. Every inch of Payne is what I lick, suck, what I crave, his taste of my own desire. My cheeks hollow again and again, more powerful as he finally loses control, his hands at the back of my head, pushing my head down again as my mouth is full with his trace, seed spilling past my lips as he claims even my throat as his.

Malik: “Show me how you pleasure yourself … Keep still … We’re going to have to work on keeping you still, baby … Let’s see if we can make you come like this … You’re so deliciously wet. God, I want you … I’m going to fuck you now, Miss Steele … Hard … Come for me, Ana.” 

My cheeks turned a rosy shade of red as my hand reached for my exposed sex at his command. My bottom lip caught between my teeth as my fingers reached my clit, two rubbing in circles against myself, my sensitivity heightened at the sight of Zayn in front of me, his eyes no longer on when I worked at his command, touching myself but at my mouth, moving towards me with long strides. “There are three things I need you to do (Y/N). First, keep still. Second, never cum without my word. Third, do not bite your lip or I will not hesitate to take you over my knee.” His voice was low, a rumble in my ear. I had no response other than my mouth popping open, my lip free and a moan slipping from my mouth for him. He simply grinned, waiting for the correct moment to hold up his hand so I would cease my movements. “Good girl, now it’s my turn.”