First lesson- how to touch yourslef
"You have got to be kidding me." Harry snorted, laughing loudly with his head thrown back, his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut.
"Shut up, Styles." I groaned, blushing and scooting further on the bed, my back supported by pillows. This is why I hated these question games, I always ended up embarrassed, one way or the other.
We were in his room, some tv show playing in the background while we downed the beers his sister had picked up for us earlier and ate the chips and the cookies his mom had left for us. Whe had decided to stay in and do nothing, talking until our throats were sore from laughter and our eyelids were heavy with sleep, just like old times. Only this time, alcohol replaced the juice box from when we were kids, and I kept stealing glances to his face, taking note of how big his eyes were or how kissable his lips were. Somethings never change.
We had been neighbors almost all of our lives. Harry had moved to the house right next to mine when he was 4, his thick British accent and his sweet face making him an easy target for bullies. Little did they know, the charming boy was going to have them all eating out of the palm of his hand in little to no time. Charming is what can describe Harry alright. With that only he could get whatever he wanted, even as little kids, swarms of little girls were after him, trying to get his attention, while the boys always were always trying to be friends with him, inviting him to play even if he sucked.
We had been friends in an instant, Harry and I, always running around our houses, and making a ruckus wherever we went. We were the worst, driving our mothers crazy with all the noise and games. That until Harry moved back to England when we were 13, with promises that we would keep in contact, but of course that didn't happen. We drifted apart, and it was ok, that's how things go.
And now we were here, 2 weeks after Harry's family had moved back to town, and he had transferred to the same college I was attending, trying to catch up on what had gone with our lives in the last 6 years. We were playing 20 questions, and I swear to God he had already made like 200. There was no way he still had 4 to go.
"Slimy Brad." He continued laughing, bringing his hand, big, big hand, to cover his mouth, and I couldn't help but notice the big anchor tattooed on his wrist. Actually, whenever I was around him in the last couple of days, my eyes continued drifting to his arms, where you could count a bunch of weird tattoos. They look so good on him. And you also could see he had been hitting the gym, but I'm not gonna talk about that. "Jesus, why?"
"It was a fucking dare!! I'm glad my suffering makes you happy, Styles." I groaned, remembering that awful July afternoon, when we were all playing "Truth or dare" in Nicole's house, a bunch of barely teens trying to act as if they were interested in anything other than kissing someone in the circle. Sadly, when the bottle landed in me, my designated partner was Brad, a kid with bright blue eyes and sandy hair that would've been cute if it wasn't for his saliva problem. That's the story of my sad first kiss, in the middle of a circle, with a boy that was just as nervous as me and that had tried to shove his tongue in my mouth, even when he had no idea what to do with it.
"That has to be the worst first kiss ever."
"Yes, I had to wipe my face off a couple of times until I could feel clean again." I shuddered at the memory, causing him to burst in laughter once again, almost falling out of the bed.
"Oh God." He said between fits of laugh, and whined when I threw a pillow to his face, hitting him right on his nose.
"What about yours?" I asked, grabbing the pillow from the floor and propping it up on the bed so I could rest on it.
"Eh, you were there, Sally Robbins, her birthday party." Yes, I recalled that. I recalled wanting to punch Sally afterwards as well. "Awful, just awful." He shook his head, shivering as if the memory only was enough to scare him. "Okay, let's see.....first time. Who was the lucky guy?"
"What?" I said, widening my eyes and looking everywhere but him.
"You heard me. Come on, spill the details." He said, sitting up and frowning. "You know what? Not too many details."
"Nope." I shook my head, popping the "p" at the end.
"Oh, come on!! It's the game, you have to answer."
"No, come on. Don't make me talk about it. I was 16, it was awful and it hurt for days. Sex is the worst." I said, crossing my arms over my chest to show I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I had the worst string of firsts after me. The guy was drunk and was even more clueless than I was, not even bothering to check if I was okay. It was after a party, and I was "dating" him back then, sweaty hands and nervous kisses was all that preceded the worst experience of my life. Don't judge me, I've had a fairly good life.
"How many times have you done it?" He asked me, eyeing me curiously.
"Not your turn, Styles. How many girls have you been with?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable with his eyes on me.
"No fucking idea. How many times have you done it?"
"Just that once. How can you not know?"
"Not knowing." He shrugged, "How many times a day do you touch yourself? Jesus, you must be so fucking frustrated."
"I don't touch myself."
"Why?"
"Seriously, wait for your turn. Come on, give me an approximate."
"Honestly, I don't know. Why?" I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to give it up.
"It's not pleasurable. It hurts and I feel kind of ridiculous."
"You're not doing it right then!!" He exclaimed, his eyes narrowing at me as if he was in deep thought. "Let me teach you." He said out of the blue and I snorted, laughing loudly at how ridiculous he was.
"No!!"
"Why not?"
"Because....no!"
"Come on! You'll feel great and you'll loosen up." He grabbed my hand and rubbed my knuckles with his thumb.
"No, Harry, stop it!" I laughed, more out of nervousness than anything else, taking my hand out of his grip, putting it on my stomach.
"I can't live knowing this information and not doing anything about it. I wouldn't be a very good friend" He whined, biting his lip and looking at me with pleading eyes. I laughed and shook my head in disbelief.
"You're just fine." I shrugged, crossing my legs that had started to feel weird each time I looked at Harry's lips.
"No, come on, let me help you. You don't have to do anything for me, and you're gonna feel so good. We don't even have to talk about it ever again." He said, getting closer and closer to me, his body radiating heat to my body and his face coming closer to mine, until his lips could brush mine and his hands could cup his face, a lingering kiss pressed against my lips, followed by a string of soft ones.
"I don't know about this." I said, but let him push me down on the bed, his body hovering over me and his leg coming between mine, holding his weight.
"You'll have fun, I promise." He mumbled, his lips leaving mine and kissing down my jaw and neck. "You just have to relax." He raised his head to look at me,
"You promise things won't get weird?" I asked, my hands weaving in his hair, a thing that I've been wanting to do for so long, and now I was given the opportunity.
"They won't." He smiled, and continued kissing my neck, trailing his hands up my stomach and under my top. His leg had started to rub against my center, causing a pressure to create there, while his plump lips kept sucking on the little spot below my ear. Suddenly, he stopped, almost running to his closet where he opened one of the doors, a full length mirror attached to the back of it.
"Jesus." I laughed.
"I'm not missing this." He said, already on the bed, kissing my thighs and his knuckles grazing over my crotch, putting more and more pressure on it, until that pressure extended to my legs. His hand grabbed mine, bringing it to the front of my shorts, making it run up and down my crotch.
"Put more pressure with your fingers." He said, guiding them to where my clit was, while he continued leaving kisses on my skin.
I moaned lightly when he bit the top of my thighs, his eyes raising to meet mine before they fixed on my hand, moving just like he had told me, focused on his face, his tongue darting to his lips to lick them, his eyes following my hand.
"Would you feel more comfortable without your shorts?" He asked me, looking at me for the first time in a while.
"I don't....I think so yeah." I said, and he smiled at me, his fingers opened the button of my jeans and taking them off. He bit his lips, and hooked his fingers in my lacy panties, slowly taking them off as well, his eyes following the fabric.
I closed my legs, feeling a little bit self conscious under his eyes, but he placed his hands on my inner thighs and spread them apart, putting my feet flat on the bed. I looked at him while his face came near my center, and gasped when he left a kiss on my clit, flicking on it a little, a weird feeling spreading through my lower body, my mouth opened while my eyes couldn't move away from him. He sighed and took my hand in his again.
"It's better if your fingers are a little wet, otherwise it'll feel uncomfortable." He mumbled, and took two of my fingers in his mouth, another gasp coming out of my mouth, his tongue licking and sucking on them, the movement the most sexy thing I've even seen.
He popped my fingers out of his mouth and smiled at me, before putting the two fingers over my center.
"Open the lips," He commanded, kissing my thighs again, his hair tickling me. "and put the fingers over the clit." He finished, looking at my hand again, biting his lip when my fingers connected with my clit, the cold of my skin making me shiver when it touched the warm bud.
"Just like that. Rub circles." He said in a raspy voice, and even though I was a little uncomfortable doing this in front of him, but the way he was looking at me, with dark eyes and parted lips made me feel a little more confident.
"Fuck, don't stop." He said, getting up from the bed and going behind me, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me closer to him, moving us around until we could see our reflection in the mirror. I could see my own fingers moving against my clit and his hands trailing down my thighs, keeping them open, causing new shivers to run through my body. "You're doing so good." He muttered, kissing my neck softly.
"Fuck." I said, feeling him rutting against my ass, his hard cock evident through his jeans. His cold hands left my thighs and traced over my collarbones, going down until they found my neckline, tugging it down and revealing my bra. I kept running circles, going harder when he set the cups of my bra aside and rolled my nipples in his fingers, making them go hard and causing my hips to roll against him.
"Just like that." He said, kneading my boobs in his hand. "Enter a finger. Just one."
"No." I shook my head, my own breath a little heavier than usual. "That hurts."
"No, it doesn't. Let me show you." He said, and I raised my eyes to the mirror, his already there, focused on my hand, one of his hand still playing with my nipple while the other one traveled down, running down my slit, and causing me to moan, before entering me, easily and not as painful as before.
"Fuck, I can imagine my cock there." I moaned at his words, his finger building a steady pace in me while my own were rubbing my clit, the fire in the pit of my stomach already spreading through my body. "Wanna do it yourself?" He said, but I shook my head. My fingers were not nearly as long as him, could not reach that spot he was reaching. He just laughed, taking my earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it.
"Look at the mirror. Look at yourself being fucked by my fingers." He ordered, and I complied, looking at the mirror, Harry's legs at each side of me, my own wide open and my boobs out out of my top, my lower body naked, both his hand and mine working in me, his finger pumping in and out of me. "You're so fucking wet, you're dripping to the bed." He murmured, causing me to shiver and moan. It was true, I felt myself drip, the liquid running down my slit, my thighs clammy and my skin sweaty.
"Here's what you want to touch." He said, going slower on the spongy part, his thrust going a little harder against my bum. "You see how this feels good?" He said after I moaned and my legs shook, this tingles and shivers running through my legs. "You're about to cum. Oh, God, you feel so fucking good. My fucking cock is throbbing." He laughed, going faster and hooking his fingertip, my hand following his pace and sending me to this rush of euphoria, losing my mind for a couple of seconds. I pulled my hand away, only to be replaced by Harry's which was running soft circles on my clit, tapping on it a little, until I was able to breath again. I could see him in the mirror licking and sucking his fingers.
He got up, taking my shorts and panties and giving them to me. letting me put them on, my cheeks blushing when I tried to get up but my legs wobbled. He chuckled behind me, sitting on the bed and pulling me to stand between his legs, biting his lips while he looked at me.
"How did it feel?" He asked.
"Good." I said, a little more excited than normal.
"Told ya."
"Shut up." I said, trying to walk away, but his hands on my hips didn't let me.
"I can teach you a lot more."
To be continued...