panties » l.s. (DISCONTINUED)

♡- 07.

✧ VII. ✧

I don't even know why Harry has been here for this long. I expected to just hand the kid his panties and shoo him out the door, but he was still fucking here. Still prancing around like the little deer he was, bright smiles and luscious locks shining in the light.

It's been an exact three days since the incident between Harry and I.. and I don't think I can go on much longer with ignoring the boys touch. This little minx is literally tearing me apart with each waking minute.

I enjoyed everything that happened that night– fuck, I loved it, but it was just so, so wrong. I had probably apologized over a hundred times the day after for being so sudden with Harry. I didn't even ask if he was okay with me touching him.

Each time i'm with Harry it's always him pouting for me to touch him, or him attempting to make a move on me. I can't even sleep peacefully without waking up to soft whines; it being Harry of course.

There's been numerous reasons for him insisting sleeping with me or why he was in my room in the first place.

"Louis, my rooms too cold."

Or

"Louis, i'm too scared to sleep in my room."

Or my personal favorite, (but harry didn't have to know.)

"Please touch me, make me feel good.. It hurts,
Lou."

And I know, how could you resist to that? How bad could it be when I've already cum in his pretty mouth and dry humped him?

Pretty bad.

I like Harry a lot already, I really do, but him being sixteen is such a hazard.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a small knock on my door, the hinges creaking when it was being pushed open slowly.

I already knew it would be the troubled little boy, probably complaining about such nonsense, "Louis?"

Harry's voice is soft and slow, laced in velvet like how soft his pale skin is. His curls are wild, each strand going in their own direction.

'So pretty, my boy.' I think to myself, but that was before I saw his full attire.

Harry appears by the door way, looking down at his now partially worn off nail polish on his toes. His face was a deep shade of red and he looked so angelic like, hands behind his back.

He was wearing a sheer pink nightgown, his now clean panties an obvious matching set and just a bit visible from the nighties texture.

There was a lace pattern on the top half of the nightgown, a good amount of it but not enough to hide Harry's pink, puffed nipples.

I didn't even want to think if they were naturally that puffy or if he had been playing with them. Not to mention the outline of his cock was growing noticeable each second.

I had expected the same old complaint, but here Harry was, suddenly crying at the doorframe, leaving me completely speechless.

"Louis," He chokes out, voice cracking in between as he looks up with wet lashes, "It's not fair." Harry is sobbing by this point, making his way to my bed and plopping down on it, the nightie raised just above the curve of his ass.