Monday, September 19, 2022

As Nat captures Harry's face between her hands and he yields to her kiss, she recognizes the heaviness in her loins. Her body is readily producing enough moisture to ease his entry, and she slides her fingers down his neck to the next button on his shirt. Fumbling not at all, she leisurely and masterfully guides the two sides of the shirt apart. Teeth and tongues and lips collide and mesh, melding into one being.

Through the seam of her jeans, she feels the stirrings of his cock. A moan escapes her mouth, and Nataley lightens her pressure on his mouth, opening her eyes and staring into his. Fuck.

"You're prettier than I am," she pouts.

"Love," Harry protests, "You're stunning exactly as you are. And when did you start worrying about external beauty? One of the things I love most about you is that people's hearts are the most important thing."

"Not gonna deny it?" she teases, crossing her arms, her lower lip jutting out.

"That I'm prettier than you?" Harry's eyebrows pull downwards towards his nose.

"Exactly."

Framing her face, Harry leans forward and kisses her three times in quick succession before reaching for the hem of her shirt. "Nataley Zwinger -- you are stunningly gorgeous. Everywhere."

Pleased at his response, she allows him to pull the shirt over her head, revealing her breasts imprisoned inside her tattered bra. While his left hand bunches the shirt behind her back, the heat from his palm searing her skin, she watches his eyes darken. Clenching his right hand into a loose fist, he grazes the knuckles across the swell of her left breast. As the joint eases over her nipple concealed under the cloth, Nat sucks in a deep breath as her insides quiver. Harry's eyes, focused first on the path of his fingers, dart to her face, and she watches as the pupils dilate.

It's like her own personal aphrodisiac, setting her on fire. His fingers connect at the latch to her bra in the back, slipping the hooks out of their paired holes. When the ends are free, Harry slides the straps from her shoulders and withdraws the lingerie, dropping both the shirt and bra to the floor behind her. Nat shivers at both his gaze and the chill on her flesh.

"May I?" he gestures, and she nods once before he lowers his head and suckles her breast. Her head lolls backwards at the intense pleasure that flows through her.

"Fuck," she breathes at the ceiling.

"Feels good?" Harry questions, and she bites her lip and nods as he repeats his actions on the other nipple.

"Soooooo good..." Nat groans in pleasure before lifting her head. When Harry pulls away, the moisture he's left on her nipples makes them harder, almost painful. Gently, he blows light air over each in turn, and Nat shivers. She wants to cover herself -- not from modesty, but from the chill. Instead, she decides that what's good for the goose might also be enjoyable for the musician.

Shifting her body, her core becomes even more aware of the length of him through both pairs of jeans. Fuck. He's so big, and she can't wait to feel him moving inside her. But first...

Her fingers yank on the hair at the back of his head, and his darkened gaze meets hers. "My turn," she pants as she reaches for the other buttons on his shirt. "Remember the days when you used to wear these almost completely open?"

"Yeah." His voice is hoarse, and it brings her pleasure to know that he's as affected as she is.

"Why do I now have to unbutton nearly every single one to get this shirt fully open?" Nat complains.

"Because," he mumbles, watching her fingers, "it's sexy as fuck when you do it. Makes my insides rumble and my cock gets excited."

When the last fastener is released, Nat opens the shirt as though it's the curtain on one of his shows. She slithers one hand down to the front of his pants, her fingers skimming his length. "I think your cock is already quite feverish."

The sound that leaves Harry's lips is a mixture between a growl and a yelp, leaving Nataley grinning.

"Nat..." he begs.

"Not yet, H." With that warning, she slides off his lap and onto her knees in front of him. Pushing his legs apart, she maneuvers her body into the space left empty as she tilts her head to his upper right nipple, using her tongue to trace a pattern around the areola before sucking the whole tip into her mouth.

"Christ." His hand wraps in her hair, twisting the strands and causing slight pain to her scalp.

When she's had enough, she moves to the upper left nip, lapping it with her tongue while she uses her fingers to pinch the abandoned nip. On her belly, she feels his cock shifting in his pants, and she knows his body is ready. But is she? To enhance his discomfort, she repeats his earlier gesture, blowing light air across his wet pecs. When he trembles, she pushes back onto her heels and stands before him, holding out her hands for him to grasp in order to rise from the sofa.

Obliging, Harry allows her to haul him up from the sofa. Once standing, he threads his fingers through hers, moving both of her hands to her back. Tilting her head back, Nat's relieved when Harry recognizes her thirst and hungrily presses his lips to hers, drinking in her essence.

"Fuck me," she breathes when he surfaces for air.

"That's the plan, love" is his cheeky response. Rather than chastising him, she grasps her bra and shirt from the floor before she simply turns and guides him to their bedroom. Closing the door behind her, Harry twists the lock. Noah won't wake up, but why take chances that he might barge in the next morning?

"I love you so much," Nat comments, reaching for the button on her jeans.

Harry stops the movement of her hands. "Nope. My turn."

Knowing that he's right and yet yearning to feel him inside her, Nat hesitates with her fingers on top of the buttons.

"Nataley..." he warns, and she acquiesces. It's only fair. His fingers clumsily unbutton her jeans and make quick work of the zipper before his thumbs hook in her waistband as he lowers the garment and her panties to the ground, ending up kneeling before her. The suddenness of the cold air on her pubic region causes a fluttering in her limbs, and she reaches for Harry's shoulder to steady herself.

"Oh yes," Harry mutters as he coaxes her legs apart. "Let me in there, Nat."

At this point, it doesn't matter what her brain says. She's giving in to him with no reservations, and when he moves her left leg over his shoulder, she allows the shift. One pointer finger slides up her inner thigh, and Nat sighs before her pussy lips contract. A whimper escapes her. That same pointer finger rests in her curls, seeking the bud at the juncture of her thighs. Finding it, Harry begins teasing her clit, flicking it back and forth as Nat groans.

"Oh fuck," she gasps. With a grin up at her, Harry buries his face there, using his tongue now to tease the clit while that pointer finger slips into the warm wet of her, and she nearly explodes at the feel of a single digit inside her. How crazy will her body react when his cock replaces the finger? How can every time with him feel like the first time? Fuck.

As though he's writing a song, Harry sets a rhythm that has her body humming as she gives herself over to his tongue and fingers as he inserts more than one inside her, pumping them as she feels her orgasm start to build.

"Harry," Nat cries out, "I'm gonna --"

"I know. Do it, love. I want you to." He hooks his finger inside her, and she swears that she can see stars as her muscles contract, causing her to fly to the moon. When her knees buckle under her standing leg, Harry catches her, lowering her to the bed as his mouth continues to wreak havoc on her pussy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she repeats over and over as the tides wash her out to sea.

As Nat's convulsions slow, Harry steps away, and she watches through lazy eyes as he shucks his trousers to the floor and steps out of them and his briefs. His cock springs when it breaks free, and she licks her lips, wanting a taste.

But Harry has other ideas. Stepping to the edge of the bed where her torso has landed in a catawampus manner, he picks up her thighs and wraps her legs around his waist. Making eye contact with her, he drives into her, and she shudders at the first thrust.

"You okay?" he pauses.

"Yes, yes. More please. I'm still not fully down from the first time, but go, Harry. I'll be there with you."

With her permission and encouragement, he bulldozes into her multiple times, his cock hitting her cervix with the power of his lunges. She can tell she's going to hit her second before he's gotten his first, and she cautiously places her hand on his thigh, but he doesn't adjust the pace.

"Harry..." she warns.

"It's okay, love," he hums as he continues to move.

"But H..."

"No. Go."

At his words, her second orgasm hits her, and she clenches her legs around his waist as her thighs quiver. Harry stops moving until her twitches calm before he resumes his pace, and Nataley feels confident that her pussy is going to explode from the onslaught, but Harry doesn't slow. She can tell he's getting closer, and she reaches for her clit to time their ascension into heaven.

As his movements become more erratic, and she knows he's about to levitate to the clouds along with her, Nataley doubles her efforts so that when he grunts and spills his seed into her, she convulses around him and they both reach the highest heights simultaneously.

Collapsing on top of her, Harry's breathing is quickened. His weight feels perfect on top of her, and while she knows they shouldn't remain this way unless they're both willing to face the consequences of sore muscles and non-flexible body parts the next morning, Nat considers the fact that she never wants to move. Forever she wants to remain in exactly this position with him, joined forever.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too," he replies, and she shifts her body under his.

"Want a shower before sleeping or do you want to do this again?" she wonders.

"Both," he breathes into her neck, "but for now, let's shower. I'm all sticky."

Nat giggles, "Me too."

Knowing that the bedding isn't completely ruined, Nataley leads Harry to the bathroom where they indulge in a 30-minute washing of each other's bodies, giggling and cherishing every inch of each other. As the water starts to cool, Nataley twists the handle, stopping the flow and grabbing a towel to dry them both.

Together they tiptoe naked into the bedroom where Harry re-engages the lock and they climb under the covers, Nat's front curled to Harry's and their legs entwined intimately.

"Harry?" she asks.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you know how much I love you?"

"Is it something ridiculous like all of the stars in the sky or all of the grains of sand on all the beaches?"

"Well, yeah." Nat smacks his chest with her open palm. "Don't make fun of my boring comparisons."

She senses rather than sees the smile. "Mhm. Okay, love. Whatever you say."

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"What about kids?"

She hears his breath catch. He swallows, and Nat's relieved that the lights are off so she doesn't have to see his face.

"Nataley Penelope Zwinger -- I love you. And I love Noah. And I have known for years that choosing you means we can't have natural children." She braces herself for whatever he might say next. "And I know with full certainty that it doesn't matter one iota to me if I procreate. There are thousands of children out there who need good parents, and I would venture that we're good parents. So we'll adopt. Easy solution."

The tears that well up threaten to overwhelm her. Fuck, she loves him.

"Where will we live?"

"Wherever you want. I don't care if you want to stay here in your condo. We've made it work. We could also buy a new house here in LA within a gated community to make you safer. Or we could move to London if you wanted to be close to Gemma and Mum. But honestly, where we live is the least of my worries, love. Where do you want to live?" Harry's voice in the dark echoes as the shadows from the tree outside the window reflect on the walls.

Nataley considers her response carefully. "I don't want Noah to be too far from his father. I know Duane is a dick and a half, but that doesn't mean he should be denied access to his kid."

When Harry simply replies with an "Agreed", she breathes a little easier.

"But as for where in Los Angeles, I don't know that it matters. I was thinking that..." She stalls, unsure if she should admit what she's thinking, but she finally decides to continue on unabated. "I really liked living at Gabe's house for a couple of reasons. First of all, it had separate bathrooms, and that was a bucket list item. Secondly, it had that gorgeous music room where Noah could dream and really explore what he loves best. But most of all --" Nat bites her lip, her hand on his chest shifting in her restlessness, "--no one knew we were there. It felt private. Oh! And Chuck had his own backyard. He really loved that."

Silence meets her answer, and she wonders if he's fallen asleep. "Okay," he finally responds, "So you wouldn't be opposed to moving to Malibu or someplace where we could have more privacy?"

Fear seizes her, "It doesn't have to be on the beach, Harry. I don't want you to start looking for expensive properties near the Gerbers."

"Never crossed my mind, love. I was just processing that you'd be okay with moving away from your condo and into someplace more private and secure."

Nataley breathes again. Talking to him in the dark like this is actually easier than she expected. "Yes. I think I would like to live in a gated community. No matter how many skills I learn from Cindy and Stevie, I don't want to be on guard all the time. But do you think Noah will be bothered by moving away from his friends?"

"Nat, I think Noah would be happy wherever we are. He's a simple kid with simple needs. As long as he's with you and me and is able to pursue his musical interests, then I think he won't care where we live."

Allowing his words to sink in, Nataley silently agrees with him. "Thank you, Harry," is what she finally states.

"For what?"

"Recognizing that this is hard for me. For helping me see our life differently."

"I love you, Nat," he sighs.

"You're my soulmate," she states as she yawns. Sitting up, she flips on the bedside lamp, and they both blink in the sudden lack of darkness. Turning to him, she crosses her legs, an earnest look on her face. From underneath her nightshirt, she withdraws the necklace, removing it from her neck and unlatching the chain. Sliding the ring from it's home, she holds out the jewelry to Harry.

"Ask me again," she insists.

Harry blinks. "What?"

"Ask me again," Nat repeats.

"Now?" His brows drawn, he looks around the room as though worried he's being pranked.

"Yes. Now. Ask me." Thrusting the ring forcefully in his direction, she waits impatiently for everything to click.

Bleary-eyed, Harry sits up facing her, tucking his legs criss cross under his body. "This isn't exactly the most romantic circumstance," he complains.

"Harry," she whines, holding out the ring again. "Ask me."

"We haven't solved everything," he protests.

"ASK ME!" Nat insists.

"Fine," he grumbles, taking the vintage jewelry. "Nataley Penelope Zwinger, will you please marry me?"

"YES. A million times yes. Ask me every day if you want. In every circumstance. Yes, I'll marry you. I've tried unloving you, but it's impossible. So yes, Harry Edward Styles. I'll marry you. Today. Tomorrow. Forever."