You wake early to tidy up a bit, make his bed, shower and visit the dogs in the park again. You can imagine all of the playful shit Harry would give you for hanging out with dogs in your spare time but you can also imagine the giant middle finger he would receive in response.
You check your watch on the walk back to his place, knowing you still have a couple hours before he is meant to arrive. You cook eggs and boil water for tea, pacing his kitchen with suspense fluttering about in your chest. You've nearly forgotten what his lips feel like against yours - you can picture it but it's never the same as having it.
The way he flicks the tip of his tongue against yours and traces your bottom lip, how he sucks your tongue into his mouth or massages roughly when you're heated. How he nibbles on the corner of your lip and cups your cheek, tilting your head for passionate access. His desperate grip on your hips, your waist, your ass. His hands disappearing underneath your shirt.
The purrs, hums and cries he emits into your mouth and the way your teeth clank accidentally when he's smiling too hard to close his lips around yours. The feeling after one of you has come and your kisses become languid and lazy, soft and supple. The flavor of your mouths sweetening with your release surging through your bloodstream, as if your red blood cells have been replaced with honey and it leaked from your tongues to mollify and compose the embrace.
You strip down and change into his boxer briefs and a cream button down printed with motorcycles, leaving most of the buttons unfastened except for one or two in the center. The silky sleeves slip off your shoulders when you plop on the couch, hoping to distract yourself with an episode of Ricki Lake while you wait to hear Harry's keys in the door.
You realize you've snoozed on the couch when your eyes peel open slowly, the sounds of a live studio audience clapping robotically paired with the promising sound of a key wiggling inside of a doorknob. You sit up with a surprised and quiet gasp, your head foggy with sleep as you watch the door for more evidence that he's truly here. When you see the knob turn you're up and running, making your way across his hardwood floors in a pair of stark white athletic socks.
The door swings open just as you arrive and Harry is before you as he steps inside, his mouth dropping open in an attractive and easy smile that displays a row of pearly white teeth and a dimple magnifying the beauty on his face. He drops his bag and holds his arms out, catching you when you jump and wrap your limbs around him in a stranglehold.
He moans softly when you cup his cheeks and attach your mouth to his, finally remembering just how satisfying it is to have his lips on yours. You inhale and sigh as your tongues stroke together frantically, his hands supporting your hips and your ass when your legs tighten around his waist.
He pulls back and huffs a breath of air against your lips, "you make me feel so good, Ace." His eyes flick to yours as he walks the both of you to his couch, spinning on the ball of his foot and sinking back into the cushions, maneuvering your legs in a comfortable straddle of his lap. His hand smooths up to palm your breast through the material of his button down, his eyes admiring his clothing on your body and the way they drape around your curves.
You kiss him and whine quietly when your core presses against his already hard cock straining into the material of his jeans, "you too. In many ways."
He moans and digs his fingers into your hips before sliding them back to grip your ass and rock your pelvis against his center. You lean forward to kiss him again and he breaks away every so often to tell you that he missed you and that you're so pretty, how good your body feels and how he needs you. You smile and his mouth automatically copies your content expression, "sap."
He pinches the skin of your hip and you squeal and swat his hand away but he grips your wrists and holds them behind your back as he pitches his hips upwards into yours once more, "don't fuckin' call me that, pretty."
Your face falls in desire at his commanding gesture and teasingly overcast tone, he notices your eyes darken and your lips part as you draw in a deep breath, "I need my hands, Harry."
He rubs your noses together, his hips moving into yours like a slowly swelling tidal wave to pool moisture into your panties, the warm and spicy smell of cinnamon drifting near, "and what for?"
You lean forward and press your lips to his ear, "wanna give you my mouth. Ever since I saw how pretty you were in your hand." He whines and drops his head back against the couch cushion, opening his mouth to allow a pained pant to escape before swallowing harshly and nodding.
He loosens his grips on your wrists at the same moment that you leave a wet kiss on his mouth and climb off of his lap, both of your hands fumbling with the button and zipper on his tight-fitting jeans.
Your knees rest on the ground between his legs and your palms smooth up his thighs as he pulls his pants down and under his bottom in a hurry, his length pressing against the fly of his briefs so rigidly that you can make out the outline of his mushroom-capped head.
Harry watches you closely, his chest heaving in anticipation and when you surge forward to suck his clothed head into your mouth, his fingers form fists against the broken-in leather of his couch, "oh Jesus... god, I can't believe this is happening."
You coo and trace your teeth along the form of his shaft and his tip, peeling his briefs down and humming at the sight of his leaking tip pressed against his stomach, throbbing as you shimmy the material down and under his ass to his shins, "nicest dick I have ever seen."
His eyes stay locked on you as he inhales and exhales slowly, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip and when you wrap your fingers around him and guide him to your mouth his cock jumps in anticipation, "god, fuck, fuck."
You smile just before depositing a little kitten lick to his tip and his knees tremble at the slight sensation. You do it again and again before lowering and licking from base to tip, wrapping your lips around his crown and swirling in circles with your tongue.
Harry's never had a woman's mouth on his cock before and to be perfectly honest, he hasn't thought about it too much until recently. He took himself in his hand more times than he could count this weekend, mostly with the thought of kissing your core and watching you unravel, but the scrutiny of how you would lick him to his end has been the forerunner of most of his fantasies for the past couple weeks.
You sink him to the back of your throat and he groans loudly and lurches forward, his hand dragging up to your hair and tangling through your tresses. The fingers of his free hand cup your jaw and beg you for eye contact and when he receives it, his toes curl inside of his shoes.
"Goddamnit, Ace. Fuckin' feel really good," his thumb is brushing over your cheekbone as you suction your cheeks and pull your head up and down, your tongue gliding along his underbelly as you watch his expression melt and his thighs quiver.
His fingers grip your chin tightly to pull you off as he leans forward to seal your lips together, moaning at the taste of your mouth in such a high pitched tone that it could be considered a wail. He backs off and whispers against your lips, "I'm gonna come. Can I come in your mouth?" You nod and he whimpers as he continues, "fuck. Use your hand as well?"
You kiss him again and you can feel his breath exhale against your cheek, "yes, whatever you need," one more kiss and you're pushing him away by his shoulder to relax against the back of the couch. You take him in your mouth again as far as you can, his tip tapping the back of your throat on each tightly vacuumed motion up and down. Your hand works his shaft in a drawn fist and your eyes search his for approval.
He watches you intently, both of his hands weaving into his hair to tug on the roots before dropping limply at his sides, "I'm almost there, oh god, so close. Keep doing that-"
Your nails scratch up the stretch of muscle and hair on his sturdy thigh before finding his hand and intertwining your fingers. You hum loudly in the back of your throat and the vibration spurs him forward, his other hand tangling into your hair again and keeping you in place as he ticks his hips and cries out when his release hits him.
His face twists in affliction before softening to bliss as he falls back against the cushions again, his cock throbbing as he unloads in your mouth and everything below his belly button quaking. He squeezes your hand before dropping it to toss his arm across his face, his chest dilating to control his breathing while he comes down.
You slowly pop him from your mouth, caressing your hands up and down his legs and stomach before climbing back into his lap and wrapping the curls on the back of his neck around your index finger. He sighs and drops his arm, flashing you a brilliant smile and pulling you down to rest against his chest, his arms wrapping around you to hold you lovingly. He kisses your hair and swallows, his words finally coming back to him, "you are incredible, I just wanna roll around with you in my sheets all fucking day."
You nuzzle your nose and mouth into the side of his neck before muttering, "just like a prayer, I'll take you there. It's like a dream to me."
He laughs hard - one of his childlike, clarion chuckles, "way to bring it full circle, dummy." He replays the words in his head and then his heart sputters when he realizes you might have actually been dropping him another mutual dream admission hint.
You sit up and wink at him, pressing your lips to his and moaning softly, "mm, so glad you're back. Come see what I made you!" You hop off of his lap and run into the kitchen; Harry looks down at his satisfied cock and laughs at your spirited shift as he rights his clothes and adjusts himself before taking a couple wide steps and joining you in the kitchen.
"You just left me wi-" he gasps happily when he sees you holding a brilliant cake up for him on a large, decorative plate. His mouth is pulled into the biggest open smile you've ever seen, his eyes sparkling in surprise, "oh my god!" He takes a step closer and when he notices you've painted a hand displaying a middle finger in the center of the frosting, he frowns before tossing his head back in laughter with his hand on his belly, "fucking hell. You're ridiculous! Did you bake this, pretty?"
You nod proudly and he tries to soften his laughter as he steps forward and wraps an arm around your neck, showing you his middle finger in retort before dipping it into the frosting and smearing it across your nose. You squeal and scrunch your face up in discomfort but he quiets you by leaning down and sucking it off then kissing your mouth with a salacious groan, "thank you. Although I don't know which dessert I'd rather eat first."
Harry convinced you to stay in bed with him until it was time for you to go to work, complaining that he didn't sleep well enough in those stiff hotel sheets when he knew you were here cuddling with his pillows where he should have been. He slapped your ass as a signal to jump and collected your limbs around his body as he walked you to his bedroom and fell into bed with you, the sheets and his downy comforter billowing around your bodies as he rolled you on top of him.
He grasped your breasts and groaned about how pretty you looked in his clothing, dipping his fingers into the open placket of his motorcycle shirt and tugging at the small boxers hugging your waist and thighs. He sat up with your legs astride him and held your back securely with one arm as he flipped your bodies again, kissing your mouth and your neck, tipping your jaw up with his nose to suck a red spot into your throat and unbutton your shirt to make his way down to your center with a path of kisses on his journey.
He pushed your knees apart and attached his mouth to your center in an ample sloppy kiss over the material of your boxers, humming at the humidity and the little hiss that sucks through your teeth, "women can have multiple orgasms, is that right?"
You propped yourself up on your elbows and raised an eyebrow at him, his facial expression challenging as he lifted his index and middle fingers to suck into his mouth then dropped them to rub circles against your sensitivity. Your head fell back as you moaned, nodding and resting your feet on his shoulders, "supposedly."
He pulled the material of the boxers aside, eyeing your core and mumbling, "fuck... so much more striking than I remember," then focusing on you once you pulled your gaze back towards him, "I'm understanding that has never happened to you?"
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and shook your head at the same moment that he licked a stripe up your entirety, swinging an arm across your hips to keep you still as he brought you to your end with his tongue and his fingers - not once but twice.
Harry lays beside you now as you nap in utter satisfaction, brushing his fingers through your hair and dragging his blunt nails against your scalp every so often. He knows that he should probably wake you so that you can gather yourself before work, but he hates to break this moment of paradise he's sharing with your sleeping form.
His eyes drift to the paintings above him and he wonders if you're dreaming now and if he were to fall asleep at this juncture, if he could join you wherever you are.
You sigh and stir, burrowing your face further into his neck and shoulder as you tighten your grip across his bare stomach. He watches you wriggle against him, enjoying the feeling of your smooth legs and your body saturated in post orgasmic bliss, lying in a malleable puddle against his side. He's never felt someone let go of themselves quite as much as you do; the level of trust that you feel with him is contagious and he can sense his backbone growing stronger with you each passing day.
He rolls onto his side and breaks the position of your comfortable cuddle; you groan in protest but your eyes remain closed as you hoarsely whisper, "what time is it?"
He sweeps your hair off your cheeks and holds it back with his fingers, rubbing his nose against yours and bumping your lips together when he whispers back, "time is a modern manmade social construct that isn't real. All that matters is what time everyone else thinks it is."
Your smile splits your face before you burst into quiet laughter and peel one eye open then the other, "okay. What time does everyone else think it is, handsome?"
His face is mischievous as he rolls his lips into his mouth to stifle his smile, his dimple softening any sense of annoyance that you may possibly have, "mmm, dunno? Why do you ask?"
You hum and trace his collarbone with the tip of your index finger before smoothing your palm down his chest and stomach before cupping his center, his cock throbbing in your grasp at your outward stride, "just wondering if I have time to make you feel good one more time before I have to go."
He closes his eyes and his mouth falls open to pant softly before transforming into a sated smile, "mmm, vixen." He pushes you onto your back and collapses his body weight on top of you, pulling the sheets over your heads and sealing his mouth to yours once again.
Happy weekend! How are you all?
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Love!
Xx Birdie