Your eyes have glazed over. There hasn't been much foreplay, but the last few weeks have been foreplay in a way, as was the kiss in the lift. Harry's eyes have fastened on the triangle of fabric between your legs, and he licks his lips carefully, looking up at you in your gray silk shirt. Unbuttoning the shirt, he carefully removes it from your arms and shoulders, gently placing it with your pants to keep the wrinkles from forming.

Mouth watering, you watch to see what he will do next. With his left hand, Harry reaches up and wraps his large palm around your right breast, squeezing gently while his other hand slides between your legs. The dual assault is shocking, and your legs fall open at the same time your nipple pebbles. Harry's fingers just skim over the soaked fabric that's covering your core.

"Is that wetness for me?" He mumbles, his gaze focused on his fingers, but then flicking up to your face.

Having no shame at this point, sweating profusely from the heat in the room, you merely bob your head up and down in agreement.

"Lift up for me one more time, angel." He murmurs, hooking his fingers on the waistband of your panties and lowering them to the bottom of your legs where he slides them off completely. You're now naked on your office sofa, wearing only a bra, and you're sure this is not part of your lease agreement. The embarrassment fades quickly, though, as you look at his glorious face and how he worships your body.

Once your panties are properly disposed of (safely in the right pocket of his skinny jeans), Harry brings your legs up, putting your ankles on his shoulders, exposing your wet pussy to him without question or regret. He glides the tips of his fingers up and down your thighs in the back, and soon you are squirming. Fuck. How does he do this to you so quickly? You're no virgin, but no man has ever made you feel like this. He's tender and sexy and sweet and hot. Damn. Why is it so warm in your office?

==========

When we were in the steam room the last time, I was able to get a little taste of her after she came on my fingers. But now I wanted to savor the source. Abruptly, I pull her legs further up onto my shoulders, which moves her wet pussy closer to my mouth. Making quick eye contact, I bend forward and just use the tip of my tongue to paint a wide stripe along her folds.

She cries out at the first touch of my tongue, and my cock hardens even more, painfully so. God, the power this woman has over me. Her taste is tantalizing, and I want more, but I don't want to drive her to the brink just yet. This is the time to relish every bit of her. So I flatten my tongue and swipe again from bottom to top of her slit. She bucks up at the second lick, and I nearly have to hold her down to keep her from climbing me.

The third time I swoop in, I focus just the tip of my tongue on her clit, flicking it back and forth slowly and then more rapidly. She's panting, and I hear her repeating my name endlessly, "Styles. Styles. Styles." Her cries encourage me to shift my approach, as I sink my tongue deep inside her and allow my nose to nudge her clit. Fuck. She smells so good, and she tastes even better. I'm astonished at how much I needed this in my life. It's like I'm starving, and only this meal will fill the empty spaces in my soul.

==========

You are mindless as Harry continues to thrust his tongue, and your breathing has become increasingly ragged. Grabbing his hair, you attempt to yank his tongue more deeply into you. Harry understands, and he pushes your legs further apart so that he can achieve greater depth. Adding a finger, then two as he feels you getting closer to coming, he pumps his digits in and out of you rapidly while focusing on your clit with the breadth of his tongue. Actual tears are leaking from your eyes now as your orgasm starts to build. If there is a heaven, you're confident that every moment there will feel exactly like this: devastating and beautiful and fulfilling and perfect in every way as you shatter, calling out his name until you are hoarse.

Your legs have turned to jelly, and Harry continues to lick at your core, sipping every bit of your release from you, easing you down while prolonging the rapture for as long as possible. When you become aware of your surroundings again, you laugh as you see a grinning Harry, wiping your juices from his face in a move reminiscent of one you saw on a red carpet video filmed years before. The grin on his face reveals how pleased he is with himself.

And it's that grin that has you sitting up, sweetly coaxing him to stand before you as you release the buttons on his tight pants. He hisses when the back of your hand brushes his erection, and you want to hear that sound again, so you allow your palm to graze his cock through the fabric. As the final button is released, you peel his pants and underpants down his legs, encouraging him to step out of them. Which he can't do because he hasn't taken off his damn boots yet.

You both laugh at the predicament, but then Harry toes off his boots and tosses his pants to the side. Remembering that he has a condom in the pocket, though, he retrieves the pants, folding them neatly next to yours as he triumphantly holds up the square packet.

This. This moment. It's silly and sweet and sexy, and you want to bottle it up and store it on a shelf so that you can take it down when you need a boost to your day. The eagerness he feels to be inside you. The yearning you have for him to fill you up. The solemnity of a first pairing. It's more than you can bear. Almost.

=====================

I want to be one with her so badly that I can already sense how my cock will feel enclosed by her wet walls. The precum is dripping from the head, and I watch as she reaches out, wiping it off with her thumb and then sucking her thumb into her mouth. Fuck. I'm stupefied by her actions, and she takes charge, removing the condom from my hand and rolling it on me expertly. My cock jumps as she protects us both, and I am sincerely worried for the first time in a long time that I will come too soon.

Sitting on the sofa next to her, I pat my thighs in a signal for her to climb on. Grinning, she throws one leg over to the other side of me and rests her ass on my thighs. Not what I wanted, as I truly need to feel her enveloping me. But then she wraps her hands in my hair and pulls my mouth to hers, rising over me. Inspecting me from her perch above, she brings her lips to mine, and this time she is the one who pushes her tongue into my mouth, swirling it around and around as she tastes the traces of herself.

Grabbing her hips, I deepen the kiss, as I attempt to maneuver her so I can fuck her. But she's doing this on her own time, and will have none of it. Eventually, she backs out of the kiss, removing her hands from where they have been buried in my hair. I have not regretted my haircut last May quite like I do in this moment when I would give everything to have my long locks for her to pull.

With one hand, she spreads her lower lips. With the other, she grasps my sheathed length, guiding me into her as she slowly lowers herself down. Eyes wide, she pauses every inch or so to adjust until finally she is fully seated on me.

And holy shit! She feels exactly like I knew she would. Like home. Honestly. Like this is where I belong. I want to live the rest of my life joined like this. We will be the first conjoined couple who doesn't need surgical separation because we don't want it.

Laughing, I share this insight with her. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good. I never want to be anywhere but here." She trills merrily at the conjoined twins joke, and then her laughter stops as she lifts herself off me before sliding back down. And honestly I can't laugh now either. Fuck. This is all I want.

==========

It doesn't take long before you establish a rhythm pushing yourself up and down on Harry's throbbing cock. You suck in a breath every time he's fully inside you, as there's something magical about having him buried deep. Harry is admiring the way your breasts look in your lacy bra as you bounce faster on him.

Occasionally, you lean down and tangle your tongue with his, your loose hair creating a curtain for the two of you as you taste each other. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, encouraging an increase in speed, and you share his impatience. The curls start in your chest, radiating outwards and downwards as your movement accelerates. Your panting starts, and you wheeze every time your clit gets stimulated by the base of his cock.

This. THIS feels ideal. Like everything you ever imagined, but better. Like having chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast every day and dark chocolate brownies for dinner every night and never gaining weight. Like seeing the perfect pair of shoes and finding they slip onto your feet with no adjustments necessary. Like being able to see every star in the sky because there are no other lights anywhere. Perfection.

As your leg muscles start to shake with your impending release, Harry takes over, bucking up repeatedly as he moves his fingers down to circle your clit.

"Fuck me, Styles!" you cry out.

Not to be outdone, Harry joins in the talk. "I'm filling you up, babe. Love watching my cock move in and out of you."

HIs raspy voice bragging about your coupling is enough to push you over the edge. "Oh. My. God. Styyyylllllllllleeeessssss.......I'm...."

But that's all you can push out before you are screaming at the top of your lungs, "YES. YES. YES! FUCK ME, STYLES!"

As your inner muscles convulse around Harry, pulling him deeper into you as he continues to thrust, he too tips into the abyss, calling out your name as he hides his face in your cleavage, pumping every bit of seed he has into the condom inside you.

============

As I come, screaming her name, breathing in her scent, I have visions of the two of us rutting like this well into our seventies and eighties. The thought shocks me for a moment because I've never thought about a lifetime with anyone. But this woman makes me want to live forever. I want to bury my cock inside her every day for the rest of my life. More than that, though, I want her to walk by my side and hold my hand on spring days in the park as we watch our children frolicking in the grass. Frolicking? Is that even a real word? Regardless, that's what I want. A future.

I can see us buying a house together somewhere that isn't London or LA. Someplace like Holmes Chapel. And we will have Nanny Anne and Auntie Gemma over every week for dinner. We will argue over whether I was supposed to get the milk and diapers on my way home from the recording studio. We will give each other extravagant gifts that can't be returned. We will spend Saturday mornings in bed, drinking coffee and reading poetry to each other.

I'm still inside her, my head pressed tightly to her tits as these visions of the perfect future play in my head, and I cannot shake them free. It occurs to me that I've just made a deal with the devil. I get to have her to myself, but I will never get the dream. For now, though, I will treasure what I have. Enjoy every single day that she continues to allow me to be part of her life. Because who knows what the future will hold?

As much as I've wanted to stay inside her forever, it's a physical impossibility, so I carefully lift her off me so I can dispose of the condom, tying the end and wrapping it in tissue before tossing it in her bin. She gazes at me with swollen lips and glazed-over eyes, obviously content to watch me walk around half naked since I never got around to taking my shirt off.

"Who empties the trash?" I ask, cautious of her privacy.

"Night janitor," she replies, "and he won't take the time to go through it, so we're fine."

There's a subtlety about her now that I can't quite put my finger on, as she sits on the sofa, one leg bent with her chin leaning on the knee. Her eyes follow me, and she says nothing as I find and put on my underpants and pants. It's when I reach for her clothing to hand her blouse over that I recognize the emotion lurking there on her face.

It's ownership. She's possessive of me. My chest swells with pride at that thought because I'm feeling quite proprietorial too.

==============

As you pull your clothes on, sans panties which are still tucked in Harry's pants pocket, you mull over what you've agreed to --- the deal you've just sealed with your body, which by the way, is feeling especially tingly right now. You can still feel how his cock stretched you. It's almost like he hasn't physically left you at all.

It is while you sit on the sofa watching him move around, finally handing your blouse over, that you recognize your emotions. You are proud and honored that he has chosen you. That he fought for you. That fate or destiny or chance brought the two of you here together today. Although you're still afraid, worried that your practice won't withstand an assault should your relationship be made public, you're no longer conflicted. You thought denying yourself his presence was the right thing to do, but it had felt impossible. No doubt this will be hard -- keeping a relationship secret -- but it is truly the only choice to maintain your sanity. As yet, you don't know how the details will work, but you are convinced that this is the solution.

You manage to get back into your clothes and look presentable just before your next client arrives. As you open the door for Harry to exit, your patient barely glances at the handsome man leaving your office.

Entering the cozy space you call your home away from home, the woman begins fanning herself, unbuttoning her overcoat quickly. "Wow," she murmurs, "It's steamy in here."

She doesn't register the smirk on your face as you pull out your notebook and take your seat facing the sofa.