Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You and Harry did this on a regular; you came over to his or he came over to yours and without a specific reason, you got drunk. Now, maybe you did that because the both of you were just too lazy to leave the house in order to get drunk somewhere else or maybe it was the fact that whenever you did get drunk together, one thing always lead to another and the two of you ended up naked.
Never though—with emphasis on the never— had you two fucked or did any of the sort. It was just the heat radiating off of the both of you due to your needless consumption of Bacardi and white Martini (rarely ever did you drink anything other than that because honestly, neither of you liked much else, bar Bailey's of course but then again, that drink was way too sweet for you to down a whole bottle of).
Tonight was indifferent; you had texted your best friend at 10PM if you could come over and he replied instantly, telling you that you're way past asking each other if you can pay a visit but usually you're not doing this so late. And yeah, you did get naked in front of each other but never fully naked, and yeah, you did look each other up and down and absentmindedly complimented each other but never had it been so intense, and yeah, you did cuddle clad in your underwear but never fully naked.
So, yes, maybe tonight was that little bit different.
You decided so, anyway, when Harry sat on his black leather couch in his spacious living room, a pair of boxers the only piece of clothing keeping him hidden away from your eyes. It was then that your tingling from Bacardi fingers fumbled with the clasp on your bra, and once it loosened around your chest, you slid the white straps down your shoulders before taking the garment fully off, leaving your top half bare.
And when Harry caught a glimpse of you, you knew tonight would definitely be different; his eyes almost doubled in size and his pretty, pink lips parted in surprise.
A movie you weren't bothered to watch till the end continued playing on the TV while Harry struggled for words and you didn't have much to say, either.
"Hot?" he asked, trying to keep his eyes from wandering down to your breasts.
"No," you shrugged. "jus' hurts."
"What hurts?"
"The wiring." you admitted. It was true; the wiring in bras does get quite irritating and the moment you take the tight thing off, it's one of the best feelings to experience.
But maybe the alcohol you drank sent tingles not only to the tips of your fingers and down to toes, but also all the way down to the area between your thighs. You couldn't decide why, though. Harry's your best friend, yes, but you're not blind; he's attractive and seeing him in boxers does make your imagination go a little wild, even more so when you've had a drink and were now half naked, cuddling into his side.
You didn't think twice a minute later, letting your drunken mind demand you to place your thighs on either side of Harry's, straddling him and watching him swallow in what you could only decipher as surprise, or maybe anticipation.
