Chapter 21
No, but I could have told you how gorgeous you looked with beer dripping down your chin.
I could have said then that I was so turned on that I wanted to fuck you right there on the table.
I clutched the phone, heart in my throat, waiting for a reply. There were stupid nerves fluttering in my stomach as I waited for something, anything from him. Even if it was just him telling me to fuck off and that I’d gone too far.
There was too much time between texts, so I tried again
I’m sorry. I left because I wanted you so much. But I couldn’t tell you.
I groaned, knowing I was a fucking moron. Making decisions when I was drunk and angry was never a good shout.
Really? Why do you think you couldn’t tell me?
You know I feel the same.
I really didn’t know what I thought anymore. I couldn’t remember a recent time that Harry gave me any clues about how he felt. Apart from his frustrated blushing as he held back his laughs when I flirted, there wasn’t anything to suggest he wanted more.
But why not? If I could fuck him into submission, maybe he'd realise there was more to life than heterosexuality. Especially the kind that didn't make him bloody happy.
I lifted the phone and typed.
Right now, all I want to do is fuck you. I don’t care about anything else.
I should have stopped there. I was going from zero to a hundred, but the thrill that buzzed through me as I shot off the text made me want to see how far I could go. Imagining Harry’s gasp, along with those little exhales he did whenever I threw a compliment his way was enough motivation.
Then a minute passed. And another.
I took the opportunity to change my messages to speech-to-text. There was no way we were going down this route without my cock in my hand.
But then another minute passed.
By the time the phone went off again, I was gripping it like a maniac, wondering if I’d properly fucked it up. It would serve me right for hitting on him when he’s just told me he was engaged.
How would you do it?
“Fucking hell,” I said with a whoosh as I stared at the phone. I was playing with fire, but I wasn’t stopping now. This was an open invitation.
I couldn’t believe it was so easy. I mean, there was a light attraction that danced around us most of our lives, but that’s why flirting with him was so much fun. It was never anything more than that, and it didn’t need to be. I was happy as we were. Most of the time.
So why was he suddenly going for it? It was like now that Molly was gone, he could just lay it all on the table.
And I, being the over-sexed drunk idiot that I was, wasn't wasting the opportunity. Sexting was pretty much my second language, especially when I was scrolling through my contacts, looking for a quick lay. But Harry wasn’t that; I hadn’t expected him to be.
Apart from that one time in uni when he softened in my arms and cried my name as he came.
How would I fuck you? Do you want me on top or underneath?
I want to see your face.
I moaned as I thought of how I could lift his hips, prepare him, kiss him, before thrusting into him and hearing him come undone around me. He could help me forget all the shit Sally was putting me through and be my place to land. It would be so much easier to love on him than be furious at her.
Are you stroking yourself?
No.
But are you getting hard?
Maybe.
Another pause, and my face split into a grin as his next text came through.
Yes.
Good. Start stroking yourself and let me tell you how I’d take you in my mouth.
There was another long pause. I was worried I’d taken it too far already. He’d told me what he wanted, but maybe he wasn’t ready for it.
Okay, I’m lying in bed.
I pictured him, or, more accurately, I pictured him on my bed, spread on green sheets, legs open, panting as he waited for me.
Are you naked?
I asked, fumbling with one hand at my belt as I waited for his reply.
I pushed at the fly, popping up the buttons on my boxers to pull out my cock, already hard and needing relief. I stroked myself once, groaning at the thought of Harry waiting for me.
Almost. I’m taking off my clothes now. I want to imagine you next to me.
I’m already aching to come. I’m thinking about how easily I could slide my tongue over your hungry cock.
I wanted to use both my hands on my cock and feel how he might suck me in with his sweet mouth. I rested my phone on the crease of my thigh, propping it against my bent leg so I could see his answers.
I imagined how he might react to me, his lips open in shock as he stared at how hard I was for him. He was terrible at hiding his feelings, at least with me. As the Acting Director of The Foundation, he was all business, but he softened when I smiled at him.
My phone pinged again.
I want to feel you so badly. I wish you were here.
Tell me what you’re doing. How are you touching yourself?
This is embarrassing. I’ve never done this before.
Just imagine I’m right there with you.
Think about how I could spread your legs, push on your thighs so I could get to your thick cock. How I could lick your head before taking you in my mouth.
Would you like that?
I wanted to feel his thighs in my hands, the push of his belly against my head, the stretch of my lips as I tried to fit my mouth around his length.
I’d had sex with so many men that I’d lost count.
Guys with dicks bigger than my arm, and others just looking to be fucked.
There were some who caught my interest, though I got bored after a few months.
But just telling Harry what I wanted was turning me on more than anyone I’d fucked in the past few years.
Another text came through, and I eagerly read it.
I’d love it. I want to feel my cock all the way in your mouth.
He was so cute. I could imagine how awkward it must have been for him to type that.
I used to wind him up all the time, back when we were in uni. Slip innuendos into every conversation and watch him stammer out his reply, blushing and dropping his eyes to avoid me. I cooled off a bit when we left for the real world, but it was always fun to make him blush.
It made it even sexier when I saw him striding around Foundation events, giving out orders while smooth-talking the sponsors, completely in control.
I’d take you so deep. I don’t care if you choke me, I want to feel you fucking my throat.
I moaned as I pinched my cock, precum leaking over my thumb as I teased the head. I wanted to fuck him so hard all I could hear were his cries.
A minute passed where he didn’t reply, so I sent another text.