Baby Honey - H.S.

9

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Rosie

There are things in life that people consider the best.

Favourite things in life are different for every person. Whether it's getting to do your dream job, reading your favourite book, growing your own garden, building a house or getting drunk with your mates on a Friday night after a long day of work, you cherish these moments and things until the day you die.

My current favourite thing in life is sex.

Not sex in general, but sex with Harry.

I was never the girl who craved to be touched by men, just like I wasn't the type to have one night stands. I tried it once but not because I was craving it. I wanted it because I thought it would help me get my mind off things.

That was the night I slept with my best friend, Niall.

We were slightly drunk up to the point where we both felt the sudden need to confess our attraction toward each other. One thing led to the other and the next thing you know we're making out on the couch.

I wasn't sure anything would develop from having sex with him but I was hoping nothing would. I was certainly not ready to have a relationship and the thought of just using his body to satisfy my needs made me feel extremely guilty.

I had a lot on my mind that night. Niall told me to clear my head and focus on how my body felt. I'm not sure how I managed to do that but I followed his orders and only focused on the constant pleasure he gave me.

It was the best sex I've had in my life.

Up until the point of sleeping with Harry.

I didn't have sex with Harry in order to get my mind off the mess that I'm constantly surrounded with. I simply slept with him because I wanted to. Because I craved his touch and I wanted to feel all of him.

I don't feel guilty for using him for sex because I know it's not what it's about. We aren't together for sex. We're not fuck buddies, we're just friends who happen to have sex occasionally.

By occasionally, I mean a very frequently.

"Harry." A desperate plea leaves my lips while I sit on the table with my legs spread. Harry stands between them, running his fingers through my wet folds to tease me more.

All he does is hum when I beg him for what seems like the hundredth time, and pulls his hand away, earning a whimper from me.

I fight the urge to close my legs and rub my thighs together just to get some satisfaction but he stops me from doing so by sucking his fingers into his mouth to taste me.

Another pornographic moan comes from me at the sight of him enjoying this.

Once his fingers are clean enough, he tilts my head back, placing his knuckles under my chin and taps my cheek with his finger. I know what he wants so I oblige, parting my lips and sticking my tongue out. Once my mouth is open, he gathers the saliva in his mouth and spits it on my tongue.

I swallow it, tasting myself along with the mint of his gum that he was chewing not long ago.

"Such a good girl." He praises, bending down and capturing my lips between his own. It's a sloppy kiss, full of need.

Right as I'm about to complain that this is going nowhere again, I hear his zipper being unzipped and open my eyes to see that he's stroking himself with one hand while grabbing the foil packet from his jeans with the other. Bringing it to his teeth he tears it open and doesn't waste a second rolling it down on himself.