Dreaming of You. {H.S}

'You are slow with immaterial women'

–.–.–

I lie down on my bed with my MacBook over my lap, resting my back on the pillows against the headboard, my hand pulling from my head, slightly rubbing my curls and my scalp. I need a massage so badly to release the stress from the tour. The others finally left to explore the city and I managed to stay at the hotel. I finish to reread that smut scene and laugh. I need a 69 so badly, too. It's been a while since I don't get into anybody's knickers.

I remove my laptop from myself and cuddle beneath the duvet, hugging the big, white pillow I always carry around tightly between my arms. I plunge my face at it, wishing to discover a scent different from my own.

I cling to her with an increasing force, in accordance with the tension of my body and the imminence of climax, closing my eyes. She rhythmically arches and bends her back, whilst she hold me between her lips, working up and down, and drawing forms with her tongue on my tip. I feel irretrievably close to her.

I've never been very fond of reading. It's not I brag about it, because doing it would be sort of ignorant on my part, but I don't think I've ever finished an entire book in my whole life. But, this is different in so many levels, and most of all, it's about me. I became addicted to Fan Fiction after that interview where we were asked about it and confronted with the strange fact of having fiction written about you. It feels like living a thousand lives. Sometimes I think about it and it is so unreal it overwhelms me.

Her taste and smell overtake my senses, and send me over the edge. I clench between her lips and by the pulsating quiver of her pubis against me I realise she is as near as me. I allow myself to go and soon reach the peak of my orgasm with her abruptly convulsing over me.

As the words keeps returning to my mind I feel my lower belly ache. I move my legs, causing an almost painful sensation when I roll over. I dully laugh in irony. I need a cold shower now, or take care of myself somehow. I quickly jump off from bed, ease my boxers down carefully and let them fall down my legs. I cheekily smile and walk towards the bathroom.

–.–.–

"So, Louis told us you already had your daily dose of fic," Liam remarks jokingly, having a sip from his bottle of beer. We are all sitting together by the pool of the hotel, chilling, as we don't have a show to do until tomorrow night. They've known about my little avocation for a while now, ever since they stole my laptop early last year.

"That means you already tossed off..." Niall states, bursting into laughs. I glared at him, perplexed.

"Oh, come on, mate–––I blurt. It's not about that!" This type of remarks has become more frequent with time. As if they were sisters of mercy.

"Yeah, surely not," Louis joins him. They all laugh furiously, clenching over their stomachs and throwing their heads back. I stare at them, annoyed.

"So, have you then?" Zayn asks, grinning with his eyes half-shut, drying a tear from one corner.

"What do you care, mate?" I exclaim.