A Walk in the Park--Larry Stylinson

Getting over the fear

Louis was focused, heart and soul, on Harry. Somehow they ended up in Louis' bedroom, although he didn't remember how. A lusty fog surrounded him, making navigation difficult. It was a good thing Harry was there for him to lean on, because he was hard put to dismiss the passion that made him feel giddy.

His shirt unbuttoned, Harry's palm still rubbing his chest, even as they walked through the doorway. What a trip.

"It feels so sexy against me palm," Harry's voice was almost a whisper. Backward Louis walked, as Harry faced him, walking forward, the bed getting closer and closer, until the backs of Louis' knees hit the side of it, and he fell over backward, and Harry fell right on top of him.

Well, that was convenient!

And oh, but it was nice. Louis hooked his arms around Harry's waist, the feel of Harry's tee shirt against his chest added friction against his chest hair. By now, feeling their bodies pressed tight against each other, they were kissing in a frantic kind of way. Frantic, but still with some semblance of control. But only barely, at least on Louis' part. Right now, he would have given a lot more than a penny for Harry's thoughts.

The heat, the hunger was becoming hard to bear. His hips rose up without conscious control, and he could feel the hard ridge in Harry's pants collide with his own. To Louis' delight, Harry pressed back, albeit with uncertainty ruling his actions.

Harry's hands continue to explore Louis' chest, sifting through soft brown hair, and he experimented with a nipple. Louis almost shot off the bed and splattered all over the ceiling. His body, that was. If his pants had been off, it might have been a different kind of splatter. Tingles of sharp desire were born under Harry's fingers and the feeling spread into his stomach and then his crotch like steaming lava. Louis whimpered, and it sounded half like a plea and half like an "I can't take this anymore."

Harry, having uncovered the way he was arousing Louis, pushed his face into Louis' chest, rubbing his nose back and forth, glorying in the soft texture on his nose and cheeks, his tongue snaking out, but way too far away from Louis' nipple. Louis actually whined now, tilting his body, coaxing Harry's mouth closer.

Touch me. Touch me more.

Harry sensed the urgency, and his tongue came within an inch of Louis' greatest need. Finally, he licked that pulsing, needy nipple and Louis cried out. This delighted Harry to no end, so he dished out more of what was causing Louis to act like he'd never seen him act before. It was so erotic, so stimulating to see Louis writhing and nearly begging. What a treat it was to see the passion that Harry had often wondered about. Louis was wild, and he was losing control.

So Harry took it up a step and took a proper taste; sucked. Delicately and softly at first, but getting such strong vibes from Louis, he sucked harder. Louis' hand was on the back of his neck, mumbling things that Harry couldn't understand, hissing through his teeth.

But the language of love and desire is universal. Harry knew how he was affecting Louis, and this floored his own arousal. He continued licking and fondling. He tongued Louis' rock hard nipple as he sucked, not being able to ignore how Louis' chest rose to meet his mouth and his hips rose to meet his own stiff shaft.

He continued, and he would have continued as long as Louis wanted him to. But after several minutes, Louis gently guided his head to the other nipple. Harry was as excited by this as if Louis had been doing it to him. The pop when Louis' nipple escaped his mouth for a second compelled Harry even more. When Louis pushed him back for a moment to look into his eyes, Harry's gaze flicked down, and he saw that Louis' nipples were wet with his own saliva, and that somehow did something Harry thought was impossible—an even greater desire clamped onto him like a vise grip.