"So yeah. I just want to try it." Harry Styles was an Adonis. Simply put, one of the most beautiful guys I'd ever seen. And he knew it, not that I thought he was beautiful, but that pretty much everyone thought he was beautiful. How we had become friends in the last couple of weeks is a mystery to me. I'll admit I had a sneaking suspicion that there was some sort of bet going on behind my back, à la Cruel Intentions.
"Let me get this straight. You, Mr.Popularity, Mr.I-Can-Have-Anyone-In-This-School-I-Wanted, you, want to kiss me, Niall Horan?"
His smirk was to die for, that mouth, those lips, beautiful and mesmerizing. "Well, I normally just go by Harry, but yeah, I want to kiss you."
"Why me?" Don't get me wrong, sure I was cute, but in comparison, I was the crap you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe when you had a little misstep in the backyard.
"Why not?" He countered casually.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Hey, it's a win win situation."
"Yeah." Harry put a hand on his chest. "Look, I know." He took a step closer. I tried to look away but he was captivating. "I've seen the way you look at me." He leaned forward and whispered, his breath tickling my neck, his lips grazing against my ear," you practically rape me with your eyes."
I blushed. It was true. I've undressed that boy so many times, in my mind, I couldn't even count. It didn't help that he had no modesty, none whatsoever. The first time we hung out, this was like right before school started again and we were over at my house. He was slumming it. We have a pool and he wanted to use it. Why, I don't know, because his was Olympic size. I had to force him to put on a pair of my swim shorts. Course that didn't stop him from dropping trow, right in front of me, not a care in the world. And by the end of the afternoon, he was swimming buck naked while I was walking around with a giant towel wrapped around my waist, hiding my excitement.
"How about this. You let me kiss you and I'll let you suck me off. Y'all like that sort of thing?"
I didn't know whether I was suddenly excited or pissed off. "Y'all?" I looked at him incredulous. He did not just say that!
"Yeah fa-" He stopped himself as I quirked an eyebrow. "Come on, you know what I mean." He tried to laugh it off.
"First off, you arrogant prick, the fact that you're asking me to kiss you is pretty fucking gay. Second, believe me when I tell you, if I were to suck you off, not only would you like it, but you'd be begging me to do it again and again."
"Hey I'm just asking you for a favor and giving you something in return." My boastful bragging seemed to have no effect on him.
He took two steps back and had the audacity to pull his t-shirt off. His abs were perfectly sculpted, the definition so exquisitely chiseled, I couldn't help but stare. His arms, shoulders, chest; they were all flawless. I was actually drooling. I swallowed, searching my suddenly bloodless brain for a retort, a quip, any sort of witty reply that might negate my jaw dropped reaction to him.
"You want me, Horan. And you can have me, just this once, for a kiss." He undid his jeans and let them puddle around his ankles. He was going commando.
"Come on!" I croaked, incredulous. This was not happening.
He reached across the two steps between us and took my hands pulling me closer. He placed one palm flat against his chest. I could feel his heart beating, slow, steady, and strong. He took a deep breath and then guided my other hand to his cock. I felt it growing, hardening in my grasp. "One kiss," he teased. It was just a whisper. Reaching behind me, he untucked my shirttail and rolled the shirt up as well as the ribbed tank top underneath.
This was not happening. I kept saying over and over in my head, but was unable to speak the words aloud.
He was fully erect in my hand as he wrapped his own around mine, his big palm warm. Slowly he began thrusting in my grasp. A glistening bead of precum seeped from the tip of his cock. He moaned as he rubbed the ball of his thumb across the sensitive head.
With a skilled hand he finessed my jeans open and let them drop. He slipped a hand inside the waistband of my Calvin Kleins and I shuddered as he deftly sent tremors quaking through me.
In my wildest of dreams, I couldn't imagine anything more erotic, more sensuous. I leaned into him, relishing his excitement, desperate to give in to his request. His lips glistened and I wanted nothing more than to taste them. He slid his hand around the base of my neck and drew me into the kiss.
I couldn't help but wonder if he'd done this before. It was a foregone conclusion that he'd been with girls. There were stories and at least one illuminating iPhone video to validate his heterosexuality, but the ease at which he yielded to the kiss, the eagerness at which he accepted my tongue; there was a familiarity to his actions that seemed too natural. I couldn't help but wonder about the sex. Being impaled, feeling his weight on top of me, his teeth biting me, his fingers digging into my hips. I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me hungrily.
The kiss was over before I knew it. I stood motionless, my face upturned, breathless. Harry's eyes were closed and to me, he never looked more vulnerable. I leaned in to kiss him again.