the art of sex {h.s}

one (M)

"What the fuck?"

She flitted her golden brown eyes to her previous lover, her tongue still swirling across this unknown man's member.

Tears welled in the boyfriend's eyes, and his heart created a void made of betrayal. But she didn't care- no, Bexley Greene did not give "a single flying fuck" about her boyfriend's heart. He had loved her, but she would never love him. She could never love him. And this was her way of breaking up with him; giving this man a blowjob in front of her boyfriend. She never did catch his name, though.

"But B-Bex," he stuttered.

She rolled her eyes and stopped sucking, letting out a sigh.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" She sneered, and with that, Luke Hemmings was out of the door, and Bexley Green was no longer taken, which meant she could do anything she wanted, and she wanted pleasure. So that's what she got.

She nodded to the Mystery Man, pointing to the bed, motioning for him to lie down. He reluctantly complied, but soon thought better of himself. Bexley turned and started to undress her toned body, standing at a miraculous height of five feet and ten inches. Slowly as a predator stalking its prey, the man walked to her golden body and placed his hands below her breasts. Kissing and sucking his way down her neck, he made sure to leave marks of pleasure.

Moaning, Bexley began to become impatient. In a hurry, she pushed his firm hands to her center. The Mystery Man smiled with satisfaction when he led her to the bed, not bothering to wear protection. The realization of the risk they were taking finally hit him when he was already slamming into her repeatedly, her own hand reaching down to rub small, fast circles on her small bundle of nerves. It was on about her fifth or sixth orgasm that the Mystery Man finally decided to cum, his load dripping into her mouth where she was sucking him off.

"Swallow," he commanded. She complied, smirking at the salty sweet taste at this particular load. This had been, by far, the best fuck she's had in her life.

"Shit." He smiled lazily at her, she returning the acute gesture.

Sighing, Bexley slipped on her undergarments, the Mystery Man doing the same. She turned back around to find him typing on her phone. At first she had gotten defensive, but soon realized he was just typing a contact for himself.

Good, she thought, now I'll finally have his name without going through the awkward process of asking for it after we had sex.

His smirk was similar to that of the Cheshire Cat as he slipped out of the room without as much as a word of goodbye. Winking back at her he closed the door behind him. She sighed in content and glanced at her phone.

New contact added:
Harry Styles ;)