"Name something that you've done with a boy." Harry demanded with an evident smirk on his face, sending chills down my spine.
For the pastors son, he's nothing like I expected.
"N-nothing. It's a sin." I argued, frowning my eyebrows and fiddling wi...
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Chapter Sixty Seven __________________
Harry left me at Zayn's to go work out shortly after what happened. It was great and I enjoyed every second of it, including the torturous part. But it was hard to think about it without my mind drifting off to Zayn and the actions he was performing on himself. I witnessed Harry's best friend watching us have sex while gliding his palm up and down his... I don't even want to think about it.
Once I was about to alert Harry, my body took over and released in the same way as when we had sex on my mother's bed, which I wasn't aware of because all of my focus was on the man with bright hazel eyes and pointless tattoos. Shortly, my eyes pinched closed as I allowed my euphoric state to consume my mind, completely forgetting that Zayn was standing there until I caught my breath then gazed where he once stood.
Fortunately or... unfortunately, I didn't see anyone there anymore. His figure had disappeared and Harry didn't seem to notice as he caught his breath and struggled to stand on his two feet like a drunk man.
I didn't know how to tell Harry about it because, I mean: I actually enjoyed watching Zayn in that weakened state, especially considering that he's a man who doesn't struggle to get a woman in his bed and I know that because of the information Janet and Harry informed me about. I heard more intense stories from Harry, though. And those stories included many threesomes or just simply having sex in the same room due to the girls being sisters.
I never liked hearing about Harry's encounters, yet, I was the one always asking the questions, so it's partly my fault.
I'm more than aware that I'm wrong for finding pleasure in watching another man play with himself, but it was uncontrollable. The state that Zayn was in is the same state I've dreamt of Harry being in; weak, and vulnerable— being controlled. A strategic move where you can look but can't touch.
After Harry and I took a shower, he lended me an oversized brown sweater and sweatpants that puddled at my feet. But who was I to complain? His clothes felt amazing on my skin— almost like I had him wrapped around my body the entire day. He kept stating that I looked beautiful in his clothes, knowing I looked completely hideous. My hair was damp and my eyes could barely stay open at the time.
Oddly, things got strange when Zayn came through the front door as if he wasn't just standing there jerking off half an hour before. I felt entirely awkward and dismissed myself with quickness, making sure not to make any eye contact with him. Harry didn't suspect a thing, either, which was probably because he knew I didn't like the man.
But little did he know... I wasn't thinking about what happened at the hospital.
When Harry kissed me goodbye and assured me that he'd be back in a hour, I decided to take a nap. The short slumber only lasted about thirty minutes before I woke back up with a growling stomach and searched for something to eat in refrigerator but had no luck doing so. Thankfully, Harry left his phone with me just in case of an emergency but it's also unfortunate because that meant I had to call Zayn's phone.
