Long Timothee Chalamet Stories

Harry, the Incubus, and Me (P8)

Info - argument, mentions of cheating and sex, crying Timothée, giving permission to have sex with someone else, Harry over stimulated and covered in squirt, calling someone a slut

Harry did not come once to visit me while I was in recovery. Finally, I told Timothée to get him and make him come. Timothée all but threw Harry in the room, dusted off his hands and flew away.

"Is there a reason you haven't come to see me?" I asked.

"Pfft, at least you look normal this time, not all bloated and disgusting," he snapped. The word disgusting hurt.

"Answer my question," I demanded.

"Why don't YOU tell me why you screamed, 'I want you!' to Timothée, when he offered to get me," he shot back. I gulped. I hadn't known he'd heard me. I looked down.

"Exactly," he said. "I'll be leaving."

"Wait, Harry, what does this mean for us?"

"You clearly want him more than me," he said.

"I do not!" I snapped.

"Then why?"

"I'd just been spit roasted and double penetrated by thirteen inch cocks, you don't know what that is like! It was wild and unlike anything in this world. I needed help with recovery!"

"Not his help," he snapped.

"Yes his because he fucked me."

"So!"

"You can't get it, you can't understand why it has to be him," I said dismally. "Harry I can't lose you. You're the love of my life."

"I'm starting to think you're just a slut," he said.

"That fucking hurts!"

"You're enjoying every second of it! You loved being bloated with HIS cum. You adore his lips. You look at him like he's a god," Harry snarled.

"Do you want this to work out Harry?" I asked finally.

"Yes!"

"Then you have to trust me. You know what? Fuck a succubi, maybe that will help you understand."

"All I want is you! I can't relate to your desire for another person," he growled back.

"I didn't ask for this! I was targeted! Timothée didn't either," I said pleadingly, so frustrated I could cry.

"See, I get close to believing you and then you say something to defend him!" He shot back.

"I'm done Harry, either you trust me or don't. I'm doing all this for us! I may enjoy it, but I also hate what I'm doing to you. I'm not trying to be a slut or betray you," I wept. "I love you."

Harry left. I was crying. Timothée came in after him. His face was bright red, tears streamed down his face but he tried to smile.

"You really love him huh?" He choked out. I was so confused, I didn't know what to do.

"Yes," I said, he knew this.

"He's a lucky guy," he said sadly.

I fell into a restless sleep. I was haunted by dreams where both Harry and Timothée were dangling from a cliff and I could only save one of them.

I was awoken by a commotion. Harry was being pulled in on a stretcher. The scent of arousal was pungent. I noticed Harry was drenched in what I knew was slick from a Succubi. His cock looked so red and purple that it seemed like it must hurt. His body was covered in marks. I hadn't thought he'd actually do it. He was sobbing from over stimulation. I wondered if now he would understand.