"Such a good boy Harry." You coo. He can't help but flutter his lashes up at you when you praise him, a soft string of moans slipping from your lips, hair falling in your face, and your eyes opening and closing to catch glimpses of him between your legs.
To be honest, he couldn't remember what had started it. Well... he could remember a number of things that COULD have started it. It could have been the way you were up and in the shower when he woke this morning. It could have been the way you exited the bathroom dressed and looking heavenly, completely ready for work. It could have been the way you leaned in and kissed his cheek with a smashing smile, or the way you whispered, "happy international women's day." It could have been when you came home and your hair had just been pulled loose and you looked ready to be fucked eight ways from Sunday. It also could have been the way you slipped into a dress with a low cut front and asked him out for dinner. Or the way he could tell you weren't wearing a bra underneath and when he glanced over at you on the drive to the restaurant, the dress had bunched and he could see a perfect, proud nipple. Or maybe it was after dinner, when you slipped into your best lingerie and met him in the dining room where you currently were sat on a chair, your legs spread wide to accommodate Harry, your feet at his shoulders as he lapped and sucked at your most private area.
A number of things he could attribute to crumbling to his knees before you without you having to ask. You just quirked an eyebrow when you met him in the dining room, sat in a chair and that was all. And now here he was, your feet placed on his shoulders, you hands roaming around his unruly hair. Each time your eyes fluttered shut you muttered either a praise or a swear, Harry holding the base of your thighs tight in his hands so he didn't miss a drop of your slick.
The gentlest of purrs left your lips sending Harry's head spinning. Gently grinding your hips into his face, you glanced down when he pulled back. Slipping two fingers inside of you, he gently rubbed your clit, your own lashes fluttering. You tipped your head back when he curled his fingers and stroked your clit with his thumb. Holding your knees away from him, you moan and whimper,
"Haz..." He hums, leaning back in to suck at your clit. His eyes never left yours, watching your face contort in pleasure. When you whimpered again, he growled, a giggle leaving your lips,
"You're gonna make me cum pretty boy." He fluttered his lashes again at the use of the pet name, begging you internally to keep touching his hair when you circle his head, holding him against you. Slipping his fingers from you, he runs his tongue along your clit, holding your thighs apart. He knows this'll send you over the edge. It always does. His tastebuds feel so good. Sure enough, you squeal, arching your back,
"Oh God, Harry!" He hums against you, watching your face twist and turn,
"Harry... I'm cumming!" Arching your back higher, he grunts, holding your thighs apart as they start to shake. You squeal and arch your back again, crying out as your orgasm washes over you. Harry only stops when you sigh, your orgasm subsiding.
He sits back on his heels, licking the leftover juices from his fingers. Standing slowly as not to startle you, he sighs and loosens his tie,
"So... uh... how was it?" Opening your eyes slowly, he smiles when you raise an eyebrow before you're pouncing on him, careening him back against the couch. He tumbles onto it, you falling into his lap his hands at your still bare hips,
"I'm guessing this is a good sign." Kissing his soft lips, you giggle,
"Well... considering the fact that its international women's day and I'm kinda running things, I don't think there's any need to stop at just foreplay." He hums, watching your fingers unbutton his top, pulling it aside and kissing his skin,
