New Year's Eve, and for the third year in a row, you aren't going to be kissed at midnight.
"Come to the party with me," your best friend Harry had pleaded, "No reason to sit home alone moping."
So here you are. You might as well have spent the evening watching television and going to bed before ten-thirty. Shortly after arriving, Harry had been dragged into conversation with a variety of industry individuals, leaving you to fend for yourself.
As you stand alone, trying to blend into the wallpaper, a man approaches. Your eyes sweep over him, examining his expensive clothing. He's a handsome one too. Maybe your luck is picking up?
"I'm Frank," the gorgeous specimen says, "Might I freshen your drink?"
"Champagne, please," you purr, watching him head for the indoor bar, admiring the shape of his ass outlined by his trousers. As though they are long lost friends, Harry approaches Frank while he's in line. It appears your friend is striking up a conversation of some sort with your potential midnight kisser. You don't even know where Harry has been since you ran into him briefly at the canapé table nearly a half hour ago. But now he's chatting with Frank, who is shaking his head at something Harry is saying. You watch as Frank nods to your bestie and relinquishes your glass before heading off into the crowd, not even bothering to glance at you.
What the fuck?! If you didn't know better, you could swear that Harry just scared off Frank. And he was hot. Tonight could have been the New Year's Eve when you finally got a kiss at midnight! When Harry approaches with your bubbly, you snatch it from his hand and stomp away. How dare he chase off your very handsome, very worthy prospect!
Angrily, you stalk down the hallway of the penthouse, looking for a room where you can be alone for a minute to calm down. The third room down is devoid of people, and you plop on the bed, taking a deep pull on your drink as you kick off your shoes. As expected, Harry has followed you, and you're glad. It's important to air this out. Maybe you will still have time to go find Frank and convince him that whatever Harry said was a lie.
Harry closes the door gently, and you watch him flick the lock. Turning towards you, he pushes back the ends of his suit coat, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"I know you're angry," he starts.
"Don't even! That guy was my last chance to get kissed at midnight! It's already 11:30! What the fuck did you tell him?" You're pissed, and you take another swig of your drink.
"That you were here with me."
"Here with you?" You're livid, and you stand, pacing the carpeted floor. "Here with you?! Of course I'm here with you! As your friend! And I really, really wanted to meet Mr. Right tonight, Harry. It's been a long dry spell for me."
Harry continues to stand at the door, leaning back, warily watching, waiting for you to calm.
The ranting continues, as you wear a path with your pacing. "Dammit, Harry! I haven't been kissed or touched or FUCKED in months! Why would you interfere like that?"
"You finished yet, love?"
"NO! I'm not even remotely finished. I do not understand how you could get in the way of what could have been, at a minimum, a midnight kiss. Or more. A lifetime. Or maybe just a good orgasm! Don't I deserve that, Harry? Shit, I thought you were my friend."
"Am your friend," he mumbles.
"Then why?" you stomp over to where he continues to recline nonchalantly. Standing toe to toe, you place your hands on your hips and repeat your demand, "Why would you screw this up for me?"
"Are you finished yet?" Harry repeats.
You cross your arms over your chest and nod, tight-lipped. You're ready to hear his explanation. Maybe Frank is married. Or dying of some horrible, disfiguring disease. Perhaps Harry had saved you from major embarrassment. But you doubt it.
"Well....the truth is..." Harry pushes his body from the door, invading your space with his scent and presence. "I didn't ask you to be my date on New Year's Eve as a friend."
Your eyes widen as his words sink in. Harry brushes his hand over your bare shoulder, sliding his calloused palm up to your neck. You are confused at his touch, and your eyes fly up to meet his.
"I asked you to be my date. Like, my real date."
Your crossed arms feel like lead weights at this point, and you release them so they rest slackly at your sides. His hand cups your jaw, holding your chin gently, and your eyes drift to his lips.
"Haaarrrry?" you ask, your entire body still as you await his response.
"Yes, love?"
"You mean it? Cause you've acted all night like I was an extra in one of your movies."
Instead of answering with words, Harry closes the brief distance between you, gently pressing a soft kiss to your lips. This is either a dream or a nightmare. You can't decide which, but you don't want to wake up. You and Harry have been friends for nearly 4 years now, and you gave up on anything ever happening between you after the first six months. Multiple times you wanted to take this leap, always losing your courage. Ultimately, you preferred having Harry as a friend to the mortification of a failed move. So you tamped down your feelings, time after time, living in the friend zone.
After the brief brush of his plump lips on yours, Harry pulls back, his eyes roaming all over your face.
"Is this okay?" he asks, "May I kiss you?"
You nod, having lost the ability to speak.
Sinking his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, Harry pulls you close, nibbling around the edges of your mouth. You want more, and you capture his lower lip, sinking your teeth just slightly into the fleshy skin.
"Darling, will you open for me?" he whispers.
"Yes," you barely push the words out before his rough tongue is sweeping inside, taking your breath away. His taste is unexpectedly familiar.
Stroking his hand that has been on your waist around to the front, he hovers just below your right breast.
Pulling back slightly, Harry scrutinizes you with heavy eyelids. "Been wanting to touch you since I zipped you into this dress earlier. May I?"
Your swollen lips form the letter y, and that's as far as you get before Harry's large hand completely covers your breast, squeezing reverently. His eyes are glued to his grasp over the fabric of your dress. The desire in his eyes forces the first pool of wetness to rush to your core. Fuck. He has never looked at you like this! If he had, you would have self-combusted.
Lifting your hand, you place it on his cheek with that razor sharp cheekbone. The beginnings of his whiskers reveal he hasn't shaved in a couple of days. You have a sudden vision of that rough skin against your thighs, and your breathing quickens. Harry notices, and his eyes fly to yours.
You pull his head back for a kiss, this time using your tongue to assault his mouth. He needs to know that you want this as much as he does.
Gently and without removing his lips from yours, Harry wraps his arms around you and slides down the zipper at the back of your dress. Not all of the way, but just enough that the fabric around your breasts loosens. Stepping back, Harry locks his attention on where the cloth gapes over your chest.
"May I?" he asks, and you acquiesce.
Pushing down the material, Harry gazes at your breasts with wonder. He's seen you multiple times without a bra when you were home watching movies on Sunday afternoons wearing leggings and an oversized shirt. But he's never seen your bare breasts. The look on his face makes you squirm, rubbing your thighs together to create some blissful friction. Harry smirks.
Reaching out to you, he places his finger in your mouth, and you can't help the instinct to suckle. The clenched, heavy feeling increases as you visualize another appendage in your mouth instead. Withdrawing his finger from your mouth, Harry moves to rub the moisture onto your hardened nipples.
His eyes rush back to yours, "May I?"
You moan, "Please, Harry."
His moistened fingertip touches your nipple, and your back arches in ecstasy. Damn! Thank goodness the party music is thumping loudly because you let out a primal sound. "Oh, my god, Harry! I need your mouth on me. Now."
But instead of taking your chilled nipple into his warm mouth, he leans forward and blows just slightly on the wetness, creating a delicious juxtaposition between the coolness on your nipple and the heat pooled between your legs. And then without warning, Harry bites just the tip. You nearly scream as you pull the hair at the back of his head.
"What the fuck, Harry? Are you trying to kill me?"
The smirk is back as Harry proceeds to take your entire perky, aching breast into his mouth. You gasp, and your knees go weak. Harry quickly wraps his arms around you without removing his lips. Reeling you in, he adjusts his position so that he is straddling your long, luscious legs and you can feel his cock through his pants.
Lifting you, Harry walks over to the bed, pressing you backwards onto it, relinquishing your breast. You struggle a bit with the dress because the skirt is so tight that you can't get comfortable.
"Harry, I can't."
Harry freezes and starts to back away from the bed. Quickly, you grab his shirt and halt his escape.
"I mean I can't lie down in this dress. Help me take it off please?"
Swallowing, Harry nods, "Of course, love. Not sure I can handle seeing you naked though."
This time you're the one who smirks, "I'm so wet for you that the dress is probably ruined anyway."
"Oh, fuck," Harry sighs, standing up and pulling his hand through his short hair, making it stand on end. "I didn't need that information."
Reaching out his hands, Harry yanks you in front of him, spinning you around. Holding your hair to the side as he unzips the dress completely, you let the cloth pool around your feet as you step out of it, wearing only your thong.
Harry lets out a guttural moan, "Double fuck, babe. A thong?!"
Looking at him over your shoulder, you tighten your ass, watching as pupils eyes dilate. Reaching out with his ring-covered hands, he grasps both cheeks firmly and squeezes. "I've seen these in sweatpants. Those squats have really paid off."
You smile seductively, letting your hair fall back over your shoulders as you turn around to face him. He gasps as he gets a full frontal view with just that single scrap of fabric separating him from your cleft.
"One of us is wearing too many clothes," you giggle, reaching to remove his jacket, but Harry's hands are there before you. So you slide open the few buttons that have been left fastened, uncovering his gorgeous chest. This is a sight you've seen multiple times, as Harry often strips to nothing but his gym shorts during your joint workouts. You've never touched before.
Tentatively, you reach for his nipple, but then you pause, thinking about how he's sought your permission.
"May I?" you ask, biting your lower lip and sucking it into your mouth.
"Of course," he mumbles, the invitation open.
You trace your hand over his 17Black tattoo first, followed by the swallows on his collarbones. Leaning in, the tip of your tongue tastes his taut nipple. A shiver whips through his body. Harry draws in a breath and leans his head back, exposing his throat. Soft kisses trail from his nipple upwards, licking lightly when you get to the soft spot under his chin.
A raspy whimper escapes as you taste him. God! How did you know his flavor? It's as if you had been served this meal every day of your friendship. That's how familiar it is on your tongue. Placing his hands on your hips, Harry pushes you slightly away from him.
"Seriously. We're either going to have to slow this down or speed this up. Can't take much more."
You pout, "But I haven't even gotten to touch you, Harry."
"It's okay," he exhales, "I'm hard enough."
You laugh and reach for the button at the top of his pants. He makes a move to block your hands. Before twisting the button, you stop and ask huskily, "Is it okay?"
Harry blows a lungful of air out of his mouth, his body tense. He takes three deep breaths with his eyes closed, and you watch as he visibly relaxes.
Finally, capturing your eyes, he mutters. "It's okay. I'm ready."
Slowly, you run the ridge of the fingernail on your middle finger up and down the length of him, marveling at the range. Harry sucks in another breath as you unbutton and unzip the trousers. Pushing them around his swollen member and down his glorious thighs, you squat slightly to allow him to step out of the pants. Thank goodness he isn't wearing his tight jeans for this unveiling.
Red Calvin Klein boxer briefs greet you as you soak anew the tiny strip of fabric covering your core. Your mouth waters. Your eyes dilate as you see the girth stretching the material.
"Um, Harry?" you ask breathlessly.
"Yes, love?"
"Is that a gun in your briefs or are you just happy to see me?" And you smirk because this is a paraphrase of a quote you've used repeatedly over time when you have seen couples making out in public.
Harry laughs, his dimples showing, "People should get a room." The standard reply.
Rising, you run your hand from Harry's crotch to his chest, causing shivers in both of you. In anticipation, Harry's eyes follow the movement of your hand. Shaking his head, he steps forward, forcing you to step backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. This time, you have no problem climbing backwards, using your hands to scoot yourself to the center of the mattress.
"Will you open for me?" Harry whispers. Tapping your leg, he indicates that you should spread your thighs. When you do, he crawls between, bending his knees and sitting on his haunches.
"Christ, love. You're so wet."
"I've waited a long time for this, Harry. One might say I've been wet for you since the day we met."
That eyebrow rises, and Harry sighs. "Sometimes I'm just blind. Sorry it took me so long to catch up."
"We're here now. That's all that matters."
Gesturing to your thong, Harry repeats, "May I?"
Holding his gaze, you swallow and say, "You have my permission for all of it, Harry."
He shakes his head, "Not how this works, pet. I want everything to be consensual."
I shiver at his words and the meaning behind them. "Then yes, you may."
Reaching for your thong, he pulls the fabric up into your cleft, and your hips jerk off the bed. "Fuck!"
The smirk is back, and he bends forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your mound, right where the cloth is bunched up. You grasp the duvet with both hands as Harry moves the fabric to the side just enough to slide his tongue from one end to the top without grazing your clit at all. You squirm again. He inserts his tongue fully into your slit, and you cry out, bucking into his mouth.
Harry pulls back, leaving light feathery kisses on your thighs, and now you are squirming in your efforts to get his mouth where you want it. Reaching up to the waistband of your thong, Harry removes the scrap of fabric, his hands sliding gently under your ass as he lifts you. Throwing the damp thong behind him, he places your thigh on his shoulder. You are completely exposed to your best friend.
"Harry, please," you gasp.
He slides one finger into you. But still doesn't touch your clit. Slipping a second finger inside, Harry continues his steady strokes. You legitimately have tears in your eyes in your desperation to feel his fingers on that spot.
"Pllllleeeeeeasssse," you release a moan, "I need...."
"Hmmmm?" Harry raises an eyebrow, teasing.
"Harrryyyyyy!!!! I need you to touch me."
"I am touching you."
"That's not what I mean," you squeak.
"Hmmmm....is this what you mean?" He asks, as he presses his thumb to your clit.
You release the duvet and grab his wrist in an attempt to get him to move that thumb and bring on your climax. Instead, he removes his hand completely.
"NO!" you cry out, the loss of his fingers a devastation.
But he's repositioning himself, lying down. You feel his warm breath on your thighs, and you clench your inner muscles, suspense flooding every nerve ending. He's been teasing you for so long. When he places his mouth there and suckles, you come undone. Your hips buck into his mouth and you scream hoarsely, "Oh, god, Harry! Yes! YES! YEEESSSSS!!" Harry continues his action as you float down from your orgasm, using his tongue occasionally to lap up your juices. Hopefully no one at the party has wandered back this way.
Your eyes are closed as you feel him withdraw from between your legs and the bed shakes as he stands up.
"Where are you going?" you ask, aware that his own release has not yet occurred. Sitting up, you rest on your elbows, looking down the sprawled length of you to where Harry is rummaging in his pants pocket.
"Looking for a condom," he says offhandedly. Surprisingly, you feel the wetness pool at your center again. Fuck. You're really going to do this. With your best friend. Whom you had lusted after for the last several years. Christ. You can almost feel your second orgasm at the thought alone.
He holds up a foil wrapped package as if it were a treasure, "Didn't expect to do this here, love. Thought maybe I might get lucky after I took you home, but definitely didn't expect that we would be naked in a bedroom at," he glances at his phone, which he has placed on the nightstand, "ten minutes to midnight."
Your eyes widen. He considered himself lucky to be doing this with you? Once again, you feel that rush of emotion. Briefly, you wonder what life would have been like if he hadn't waited this long to notice you. Your bond is deeper now because you were friends first. You wouldn't trade any of those late night conversations or early morning workout sessions or Sunday afternoon movies for anything. They created the union you're experiencing, forming the opportunity for you to join together as two strong individuals who care intensely for each other.
"Come around to the other side of the bed," you gesture at Harry, and he obliges, tossing the packet on the bed. You flip over onto your stomach, your elbows supporting your upper body as he stands in front of you. As much as you want to tease him, you also want him to explode inside you, so you don't touch him through his boxer briefs. Instead, you reach for the waistband with both hands, sliding your warm fingers over the soft skin of his abdomen as you hook your fingers underneath those briefs and peel them slowly over the length of him. He hisses out a breath. When his member springs free, you draw in a breath.
"You're so beautiful, Harry," you whisper, expelling the air in your lungs as you take the full length of him in your hands. There's pre-cum at the tip of his penis, and you reach forward with your tongue to taste. But then you stop and look up at Harry with wide eyes.
"May I?"
"Christ, yes. Yes. Please. Oh, god. Yes."
You spread the pre-cum with your fingers up and down his shaft and pump him a few times. Releasing him, you flip over on your back and look up at his ballsack from your new vantage point. You take his scrotum into your mouth, gently nipping and nibbling with your teeth, using your tongue occasionally over the velvety skin.
Harry has stopped breathing, or at least it sounds as if he has. "Breathe, H," you tease, "I don't want your obituary to say that you died with your best friend's mouth on your balls."
There's a nervous laugh from Harry, and you bend your head further back over the edge of the bed, pulling his ramrod cock towards your mouth. Harry bends down enough to insert his manhood into your mouth. As soon as the first part of his length is inside your wet, warm mouth, you apply suction, and Harry's hips buck. "Fuck!" he growls between clenched teeth.
Moving your head slightly, you take more of his length until you feel him at the back of your throat. You nearly gag with the depth, breathing through your nose as you continue to suck tenderly on the erection, reveling in the taste. When Harry starts to thrust his hips, you know he's close, so you withdraw, using only your hand on the base while the tip is in your mouth.
"S'nough, love. No more or I'll cum in your throat."
"That's okay, H. I'd swallow every drop," you whisper confidently.
"Don't say that."
"Why not? 'Tis true."
"Not that I don't want that sometime soon, love, but right now I want to be inside you."
"Oh," you frown, "Yes. Me, too. Don't know what I was thinking."
"Maybe you weren't?" Harry snickers from above.
"Definitely not. Harry, get on this bed and fuck me into the new year."
You don't have to tell him twice. Climbing on the bed, his leg passes right over your head in his rush to get to you. Grabbing the foil package from next to your hip, he tears it open, withdrawing the condom. "I wanna do it," you whine.
"Honestly, if you touch me right now, there will be no happy new year for either of us."
You pout slightly as you watch him roll the condom down his length, and you clench in anticipation.
"Are you still wet for me?" Harry asks, as he crawls between your legs. Rather than waiting for your answer, he passes his thumb over your clit, flicking it side to side as he strokes his covered cock. Sliding one, then two, then three fingers into you, Harry pumps his hand a few times. Involuntarily, you spread your legs further.
"Oh, yes, baby. You're definitely ready. Let me hear you say it."
"I'm so wet for you, Harry. Want you inside me."
Kneeling, he lifts your rear end onto his thighs and plunges into you. You cry out at the feel of him. Harry freezes. "Shit. I didn't ask. May I, please? Please? May I fuck you?"
You groan, "You better fuck me at this point, Styles, or I'll be complaining to your mother that you don't keep your promises."
"You're really bringing my mother into this conversation, babe?"
"Sorry, H. Sorry! Wasn't thinking."
Harry spreads his legs from under yours, lifting you further onto his erection. You call out again at the pleasure.
"Not hurting you, am I?"
"Do you always talk this much during sex, H? Cause I really don't want to have a conversation just now. You're not hurting me. Just please. Fuck me. Hard."
That's all it takes. Harry starts pounding into you, and you get into the rhythm with him, bouncing on his engorged cock. Turning you to your side, he holds your leg over his shoulder, continuing to pound into you. When he moves to turn you to your back, you stop him.
"I wanna see you, Harry. I wanna see your face the first time you cum inside of me."
Harry has frozen at these words. "Fuck. That's so hot, love. Yes. I wanna see your face too."
He grabs a pillow and tucks it under your hips. Leaning over you, supporting his weight on his arms, Harry continues pumping in and out. Your hips are rising to meet him with every thrust.
From outside, you hear the countdown start as the rest of the guests prepare to welcome the new year in their own way.
"10....."
Harry pumps harder, moving his hand so that he can stroke your clit with his thumb while the rest of his giant fingers are splayed across your pubic bone.
"9...."
You cry out, "Fuck. Harry. I'm gonna...."
"8..."
"Not yet, love."
"7...."
You buck into Harry's body, trying to meld wholly with him.
"6...."
Harry stops for a second, panting. "Wanna cum at midnight. With you."
"5...."
He leans down and puts his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
"4...."
"I'm sorry I was so slow to notice that we were meant to be lovers," he sighs.
"3...."
"Harry," you moan, "Make me see fireworks."
"2...."
Harry resumes his motions.
"1...."
"NOW, HARRY," you shriek.
"Happy New Year!" The screams from the crowd outside on the penthouse deck are loud enough to drown out every other sound. Thankfully.
The sky is lit up by the fireworks, both real and imagined as you and Harry climax simultaneously, meeting his thrusts again and again as you drain every last drop from him. The walls of your vagina continue to clench for what feels like forever, and you don't think you've ever experienced an orgasm as powerful as this one.
When you can finally breathe again, Harry's head rests on your chest between your breasts. Stroking his hair, you press a kiss to the top of his head. His arms wrap around you.
"Happy New Year," he whispers, "I know that this is going to be our best year yet."
A/N: Happy New Year, my loves! Thank you for rejoining me on this journey. I hope to both remind you of some of my past work and introduce you to some new characters and stories in 2023. May the new year bring you every happiness!