“You know how we have really great sex?” Harry wondered, his voice trailing from the bathroom, the door wide open and letting the bright light filter into the bedroom, a rectangle of light shadowing the floor. “And, by really great sex, I mean proper amazing really great sex.”
“Where are you going with this, Harry?”
“I was doing some research the other day,” he claimed, the sound of his toothbrush hitting the ceramic toothbrush holder being heard with a soft clink and the water running from the faucet coming to a half, “and, I wanted to maybe spice up what we do in bed and I googled best ways to please a girl-”
“Harry, if you’re going to oral sex, we’re not doing it,” you warned, a hint of sternness lacing your words, “and I’m serious with that. I don’t mind performing oral on you but I’m not having you go anywhere near my downstairs area,” you mumbled, a make-up wipe in your hand as you rid your face of the light amount of foundation covering your facial flaws. “I’m serious.”
“Just, hear me out a minute,” a boxer-clad Harry grinned, appearing in the doorway with a white towel in his hands, wiping the water droplets trickling down his skin, “I spoke to James as well, because, he’s been married the longest and he’s been in a relationship the longest out of any of us, and I asked him what he did to keep their sex life modern and spicy and great a-”
“You can’t go and ask people what they do in the bedroom. That’s private, you knob,” you gasped, looking at him through the mirror of the master bedroom, a smirk toying on his lips. “Stop smirking. You can’t go around and ask married couples what they do when they have sex. That’s so weird, Harry.”
“He was willing to tell me though, love. And he kept no details short,” Harry chuckled, his shoulders moving with each laugh rolling off of his tongue, and his eyes crinkling at the corners, “but he basically confirmed what I had researched. He’s taken part in what I googled and he says that his missus absolutely loves it and he recommended that we try it one night.”
“I’d like to know what it is you researched before I agree to anything,” you stated, throwing the foundation-spotted wipe into the bin beside the wardrobe.
“I’d rather show you what it entails and then see whether you can piece together what it is,” he smirked, his finger and his thumb pinching at his bottom lip as he stood there with his eyes focused on you. “I have it all in the kitchen, so, I can go and get it.”
“Woah, what makes you think I was going to agree to this?”
“What?”
“You’ve brought it all already. What makes you think I would have agreed?” You wondered, spinning on your heels and cocking an eyebrow in his direction. He gave you a smile, his cheeks lifting and his dimples popping as he looked down to his bare feet, his toes curling into the carpet. “Harold Edward Styles, what are you hiding from me?”
“Nothin’, I promise,” he grinned, taking steps across the cream carpet of the LA bedroom, “I’ll go and get it and then I’ll come back and show you. It’s a necessity to have this in the house anyway, so, I already have it in the freezer.”
“Freezer? Harry, what ar-”
“Just sit on the bed and wait patiently for me, okay?” Harry smiled, cupping your elbows in his hands, his thumbs rubbing your forearms. “I promise, it’s nothin’ scary and we’ll only do it if you want too.”
“Oh, we’re going to be doing it tonight, huh?” You smirked, poking at the middle of his chest, your pointer finger coming into contact with his skin. “Who says I want to have sex with you tonight?”
“Because, we spent all day on a plane yesterday coming back from Greece, and, then we saw James and his missus yesterday evening when we arrived, and, we didn’t have time to have sex and break in the new bed in this new house last night because we were too tired,” he whined, rolling his head back on the joint and looking up to the ceiling. “And, you got all touchy today when we went to Café Habana and I, honest to God, thought you were going to pull my cock out and give me another handjob in public.”
“Oh, shut up. You wanted that handjob in the pool,” you grumbled and dropped your forehead to his chest, “do not lie. You wanted it and I gave it to you and now we stop talking about it because I cannot believe you spunked in that luxury pool.”
“They drained the water after we left for dinner anyway. Almost like they knew what we did,” he grinned as you scoffed loudly and gave his arm a swat. The skin on skin contact sounding around the quiet room. “Please. Can we see if you want to do this thing and if you don’t, then we can have normal sex and we can be as loud as we want because there are no neighbours around.”
“You’re the loudest one out of the two of us,” you stated truthfully, a grin on your lips as you looked up to him. “I quite remember Mrs Davison knocking on our front door around Christmas time. You know when we did it in front of the fire? She thought we were in some horror movie because you were yelling out so loudly. She was so scared,” you giggled, a breath leaving his nose as he snickered softly. “She thought you were being murdered.”
“Hmm. But, you’re quite loud yourself. Remember when we were on tour and you came to visit? You immediately jumped on me, wrapped your legs around my waist and magically and majestically pushed my pyjama trousers down with your ankles. And, Paul was our tour manager at the time, and he knocked on the door and begged for us to be quiet because he was so tired,” Harry smirked, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Safe to say that we’re both a bit too loud when we orgasm.”
“We make quite the pair,” you grinned, squeezing at the chub of his hips, the band of his blue boxers creating marks on his skin. “You wan’a go and get this thing from the kitchen then? I’m getting curious,” you hummed, snaking your hands around his waist and dipping your hands into his boxers, your palms resting on the apple curves of his bum.
“Hmm. Jus’ want to take you against this wardrobe right now,” he growled, his head ducking down to your neck, his ears blocking out the protests coming from your mouth and drowning into his shoulder. “You squeezin’ my arse really gets my motor running, and I can feel myself getting hard already. Reminds me of when you gave me anal.”
“Oh, stop. Please, Harry, I’m just holding this masterpiece in my hands,” you smirked against his skin as his breath fanned across your skin. “Please, go and get this thing from the kitchen. I want to know what you’ve been looking up behind my back. And talking to James about.”
“Alright. Just, sit patiently on the bed and wait, yeah? I’ll be back in a second,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your forehead and sliding his hands back from around you. “If you don’t want to do this, just say, and we’ll have normal sex.”
“Alright. Just go before it gets too late again,” you teased, kicking at his bum as he spun on his heels.
A soft hey leaving Harry’s mouth as he pulled open the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway of the upper level of the new house, a glass wall window giving him an insight to what the night life of Los Angeles looked like at 9 in the evening, bright lights shining from buildings, windows lit by electricity and headlights from cars moving slowly down the roads. He gripped at the oak bannister, his feet padding down the stairs and stepping foot into the hallway, shivers eliciting up his spine as the atmosphere changed from warm to cold in a matter of seconds.
He walked into the kitchen, the lights bright and stinging his eyes – he’d only adjusted to the lamp-lit bedroom and the dimly lit bathroom that evening – causing his eyelids to squint and his knuckles to rub at the sensation. The white tiles of his kitchen lead him towards the fridge, two compartments already filled with food that had been brought before the dinner at Café Habana, a much-needed dinner after a day of furniture shopping and food shopping to fill up his new LA pad; a home that you loved from the moment he’d sent you photos after a viewing he’d had, the views from each room attracting you and the idea of staying in such a luscious home with Harry had you yearning for it to happen.
His hand pulled at the handle of the freezer, pulling the door open and causing his legs to flush cold from the temperature inside, the tray of ice at the top of the shelves being pulled out with his fingers. He picked up the ice cubes from the tray, sticking a cube in his mouth as he reached for the glass he had used to drink water from before bed. Dropping the cubes into the glass, he’d bumped the tray closed with his hip and pushed the door shut, cutting the cold temperature from freezing his legs more.
He wasted no time in flicking the light off and cutting the electricity in the kitchen, his legs taking his back towards the stairs and up them, skipping one with each step, the ice jingling and tinkling and melting in the glass held tightly in his hand. Ice that was going to be used on your heated body, increasing your nerves and getting you squirming beneath his touch from the sudden change of temperature being applied to your skin. Ice that was going to be used to swirl around your nipples, bringing the buds out and showing clearly that you were feeling just as aroused as he had hoped. Ice that he had hoped would be used when nearing your slit, cold and tingly against your nerves as you edged further to an orgasm.
Kicking the door open with his ankle, he hid the glass behind his back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, removing the cold water dribbling from the corner of his mouth due to the cube in his mouth melting against his warm tongue.
You were sat on the edge of the bed, toying with your fingers with your head dipped down to your chest as you looked to your feet, your ankles crossed and your toes wiggling as you tried to occupy your attention.
Harry swallowed the water from the cube, his lips numb and his tongue cold against the roof of his mouth; he’d researched that as soon as the counter female had felt the cold lips against her warm skin, she’d feel a longing in her belly for something to relieve her from the knot getting bigger and bigger with anticipation.
“M’back,” Harry cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you and immediately connecting his lips to your neck, bringing the glass from behind his back and holding it in his hand. A groan left your lips as you rolled your head to the side to give him better access, your eyes closed in pleasure as he ran his cold and wet tongue up your skin, flicking your ear lobe with a smirk. “Guess what it is?”
“I have a feeling it’s ice,” you hummed, opening one eye. “You want to do ice-play?”
“Do you want to have a go?” Harry wondered, ready for any answer you’d give to him.
If you said yes, he’d rip his t-shirt from your body in an instant, holding a cube in his fingers and shivering as the water sent cold feelings through his veins, swirling and rubbing the cold and melting object around your budding nipples.
However, if you said no, he’d still rip his t-shirt from your body in an instant, but rather than a cube in his fingers, he’d swirl his tonight around your budding nipples as he dipped his free hand into your knickers.
“I guess we could give it a go,” you whispered, reaching into the glass and pulling an ice-cube from the inside, sliding it into your mouth and instantly biting the hard object, a smirk forming on your lips. “Kiss me.”
And with that one simple statement, the activity of ice-play had begun.
His lips found yours, cold lips meeting cold lips, in a rough and passionate kiss. Tongues wasting no time in battling around the split and fragmented cube, half being pushed into his mouth and half staying behind in your mouth. His unoccupied hand came from his side, cupping the back of your head in his palms as he deepened the kiss taking place, his tongue pushing back the piece of ice-cube he’d had in his mouth, a grunt leaving his nose as he pulled away. A dribble of drool and water stringing between both pairs of lips, a smirk forming on his mouth.
“That was quite possibly the hottest thing we’ve ever done,” Harry whispered, “and I mean figuratively, not literally, because ice-cubes are freezing.”
“Figured we’d see if ice really does increase pleasure,” you mumbled, your fingers toying with the t-shirt on your body, a want to slide it off and become exposed to the bedroom air. “Y’know, you’re lucky we’re so high up the hill so we’re not going to be seen through that big glass wall over there,” you murmured.
“It makes mornings so much more romantic. Who needs a balcony when we have a window wall that shows the sunset from our bed?” Harry grinned, looking over his shoulder at the window, a similar view from before coming into sight. “S’a stunning view though, isn’t it?”
When he didn’t receive an answer in response to his question, he turned back to you and smiled when you pressed your lips to his plump and pink and swollen and cold flesh.
“D’you think you could give me oral?”
“You want me to eat you out, hm? Have you changed your mind, baby?” Harry cooed, cupping your chin with his free hand, his thumb running over your numbingly cold lips. Your eyes weakened and you felt yourself looking down with a blush painting your cheeks with a soft pink, however, with his strong hand cupping your jaw, he tilted your head up. “Are you sure y’want me to be the one to do it for the first time in your life? You have never done this before and I don’t want to pressure you into it,” he reasoned, holding the glass of ice between his knees and using his kneecaps as vices around the circular glass, his hand cupping up to cup your face. His thumbs running over the apple curves of your cheeks, his green eyes looked onto your own nervous orbs.
“I want this,” you gulped visibly, “I want you to uhm, yeah. I want you eat me out,” you murmured, your words trailing off towards the end of the sentence.
A smile perked his lips up, his dimples popping on his cheeks as he nudged his nose against yours, his lips puckered as he pressed a kiss to your upper lip, suckling softly on the flesh before pulling away. Leaving you stunned, breathless and wanting more than just a kiss from him.
“Lay back f’ me then, love. M’just going to wait patiently and watch as you strip f’ me,” he smirked, dropping his hands to your thighs and patting your flesh softly, as an indication for you to stand up and rid yourself of the material covering the places he needed to get to in order for him to carry out and fulfill your command.
You stood to your feet, your body hunching over with an almost closed vibe emitting, your shaking fingers hooking into the band of your pink and slightly laced knickers, pushing them down your legs and letting them pool at your ankles. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous – why were you so nervous?
Harry had seen you naked numerous times before when it came to the act of making love or having a quickie, and he’d seen you without clothes on when it came to having non-intimate showers and baths together in the evenings after a busy day that required strength, stamina and a lot of attention to be given.
He’d peeled your clothes off many times before, throwing your knickers over his shoulder and unbuttoning the buttons of your shirt or sliding a t-shirt wistfully over your head in a quick manner.
He’d unhooked your bra when you were too tired to reach around and unhook it yourself, hanging the strap from a finger and dropping it to the floor with the rest of your – and his – clothing.
At any other time when Harry would see you naked, you would have had no worries or panics about standing naked in front of him, but, knowing he was about to do something that you thought nothing of and had no interest in having performed upon you had you shaking like jelly at the knees; like a cartoon character in the cold, knees knocking together without a care about how painful it was.
“Gon’a have to get rid o’ this t-shirt soon, love,” Harry whispered, his hands resting upon your hips. “Desperate to get my lips on you.”
A soft whimper left your mouth as he hitched the material up with his wrists, your fingers taking over as you pulled it over your head and revealed your bra-less chest – you could never sleep in a bra, and, Harry had found the thought cheeky. It gave him better access in the mornings, when you were both in a sleepy daze and you weren’t quite fully awake. Your back pressed to his chest, ankles entwined and toes tickling at one another’s calves, his arms snaked around your waist and his hands rested upon your breasts, your nipples at the centre of his hands as he contracted his fingers and retracted them softly, kneading with the heels of his hands into the flesh he loved to show his extra affection towards.
“Y’look so gorgeous. Fuck. And you’re all mine and I feel so selfish,” he gawked, his eyes focusing upon your naked body standing beside him, “and I’m going to devour your sweet taste so much.”
A tingle made its way to the base of your gut.
“Y’want me to devour you, hm? Get my tongue right in there, yeah? Suck on your skin and leave hickies on your thighs?” Harry cooed sweetly, his words settling in your ears and warming your chest. “Y’want t’ lay down for me, yeah? Before these cubes melt.”
He turned his attention to the glass still in a tight vice between his knees, glistening as water settled upon the surface of the cubes, a pool of water at the bottom of the glass. The wetter they were, meant the better and colder they were, and the colder they were meant more pleasure would be given off and he would hope that your arousal would increase.
You gave him a soft nod – your words seemingly stuck at the back of your tongue – and crawled upon the large bed, the duvet soft beneath your touch; like a cloud. Your head settled upon the pillow on the half of the bed you had occupied, your knees bent and your feet pressed to the duvet of the made bed. A bed Harry made that morning so it was ready for the both of you to crawl into when sleep hit you like a brick, when the both of you were forming incoherent sentences and yawns would be heard more frequently. A soft gulp came from you as Harry stood to his feet, sticking his fingers into the glass and pulling a cube from inside, looking at your heavily-breathing figure and smiling to himself.
He reached across you and set the glass down on the bedside table, in an easily accessible distance in case he’d run out of ice-cube and needed a new one to keep your arousal going and peaking and having you on the verge of releasing.
“Y’ready?” He questioned, kneeling upon the bed and shuffling between your bent knees, an eyebrow cocked as you bit at your bottom lip and gave him a soft nod. “You’re sure, yeah?”
“Of course. Just, a little nervous. S’not exactly a perfect look down there. I haven’t shaved in weeks and it looks all untrimmed and messy and it’s even the slightest bit attractive,” you sighed, tensing your thighs and cutting the view off from his hungry eyes, “and, you always look so proper and prim down there and I just feel so unattractive compared to you,” you sighed.
“Don’t be silly, you donut. I like to think you look very attractive and very perfect,” Harry smiled, “I don’t want someone with nothing there. Because then I feel like I have to shave and I hate shaving down there because I cut myself once and it scarred me for life, literally. If I trim it to the correct amount, you’ll see a scar,” he blushed. “Just, don’t worry, okay? It’s goin’ t’ feel so good and you’ll be begging for more when we have sex.”
“Gettin’ a bit ahead of y’self there, Harry,” you warned, your words coming short as you felt a droplet of water drop onto your belly button and come into contact with your warm skin, the liquid trickling down your hip. “Oh my god,” you whispered, breathlessly.
“S’good, right?” Harry questioned, dropping his hand closer to your skin and running the ice along your skin, going towards the valley of your breasts and circling them with a trail of ice-cold water. “Look at you, hm? Look a’ these nipples. Budding and prepared and so very aroused,” he pointed out evidently.
He trailed the cube around your areola, nearing your left nipple.
“S- Oh my god, that feels so good, Harry,” you grunted, your fingers curling into the sheets and tugging as he carried the same activity out on your adjacent breast, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the cube send tingles and jolts through your muscles. “Harry, fuck. Must try this on you some other time, yeah? I think you’d like this a lot.”
“M’willing to try that, o’course,” Harry grinned, his hand trailing the cube back down the valley of your breasts, past your belly button as to the top of your pubic bone, your hips beginning to squirm under the feeling. “You like that, hm? M’goin’ to have to get another one in a minute. S’runnin’ a bit low.”
“Uh-huh. Jus’ keep doin’ that okay, Harry? Feels so very good,” you whispered. “When you, you know-”
“When I eat you out?”
You gave him a nod.
“Will you use your fingers?” You asked wearily, your eyes closing and your voice shakily and crackling, the feeling of arousal intensifying as he neared closer to your clit – your throbbing, aching, and needing-to-be touched clit. “Please. Love your fingers in me. Feels so good n’you always get me to an orgasm.”
“I can use my fingers, of course, love,” he agreed, bringing his wet fingertips to his boxers and wiping them on the material.
With the loss of touch, you cracked an eye open when the feeling of his body shuffling was felt. His arm was reaching across you, his fingers dipped back into the glass and instead of him setting the cube upon your body, he slipped the cube into his mouth and smirked at you. Confusion went through you as he began to swirl his enclosed tongue around the watered cube and swallowed the water dribbling down from the corners. He smirked as best as he could with the ice-cube in his mouth, and you watched as he rolled onto his front and wedged himself between your legs, prying your thighs open with his hands, his arms snaked around your waist and settling his hands at the top, to the sides of your pubic bone yet close enough for his fingers to toy with your bundle of nerves and rub at your skin to get you as close to an orgasm as he could before he pushed his fingers into you and curled them to hit your significant spot; a spot that had you squirming and tensing and crying out from pleasure.
“Okay, are you really ready?” Harry mumbled, water dribbling down from the corner of his lips – and anyone would have found that a major turn off, but, strangely enough it made you want his lips upon more than anything, the feeling of his wet lips touching your own wet lips had you weak and needy and the want had pushed those sudden nerves from before out of your system.
“Jus’ go for it, Harry. M’ready,” you whispered, as he gulped the melted ice-cube down and puckered his lips. He could feel the bitter and icy cold feeling cover his skin, and, he couldn’t imagine the feeling he was about to give to you – wet and cold meeting wet and warm.
He used his fingers to part your throbbing folds, your little bean of nerves coming into view as he used his wet and bitterly cold tongue to flick and swipe up your flesh, a heavy and guttural groan eliciting from your throat as he continued to flick your clit with the cold tip of his tongue.
His warm breath and the warm temperature of your skin contradicted against his chilled tongue.
The frigid cold feeling of his tongue being the completely opposite to the lack of frigidity you were portraying across, your arousal peaking with each flick of the tongue he gave to your bundle of nerves.
“Fuck, Harry. Has anyone ever told you that you have a magical tongue?” You cried out, your head rolling back against the pillow as your eyes closed in pleasure. His green eyes staring at you from between your thighs, and he’d found all the self-control he could to not cockily smirk and whisper against your skin. “Should’a had you eat me out many times before because v’been missing out on this intense and this amazing feel- Fuck!”
Your sudden outburst coming from his hands reaching up and squeezing at your breasts, his elbows propping himself up either side of your body as he flicked his ring adorned fingers across your prominent and budding nipples, pinching every soft often when he wasn’t squeezing your plump and addicting flesh.
“M’so close, Harry. M’so, so, so close,” you grunted.
“Mm-hm. Hold on a little more, yeah?” He whispered, his words flushing against your skin as they rolled of his tongue, almost inaudible beneath your panting and heavy breathing. “I promise you, I’ll get you in a way I know best, okay? Just, m’not finished you with you quite yet and I need you t’ hold on a bi’ more.”
“Don’t think I can, Harry,” you wheezed out, breathlessly. Your fingers gripping at the duvet in a tight grip, knuckles turning white and you were sure that by the end of your euphoric state, you’d have trouble feeling contact at your fingertips. “Mm, please. Please,” you begged, ignoring the urge to scream when his lips suckled at your fleshing folds.
You felt regret rush through you as the foreign feeling continued to play about upon you – why hadn’t you let Harry perform oral on you before? Why did you turn down such a euphoric feeling? Why did you hate the thought of this so much without testing the water first?
Because as soon as you’d have felt his lips upon your bundle of nerves the first time, all the months ago, you’d have had him do it every other night when you needed him.
You’d have had him performing oral on your before you got well underway with the thrusting and the melding of your sticky and sweaty bodies.
You’d have had him performing oral on you as you performed oral on him. At the same time you gave him a blowjob, he’d be using his tongue as a way to bring you to an orgasm, finishing with a cocky smirk as you both realised he’d only just used his tongue to have you throbbing and unraveling.
“Hold on,” he muttered sternly, bringing his hands back to your hips, “you want my fingers to bring you to an orgasm, hm? Rings on n’all? Like normal?”
You gave him a wordless nod, and, as he brought his right hand from around your thigh, he wasted no time in pushing his digit between your folds and gave you continuous flicks, with his tongue, to your clit. The chilly and bitter and cold feeling given from the ice cube had worn off of his mouth, but, all you could focus upon was the feeling of his finger touching you in all the right spots. The metal ring – one you had brought him for his birthday just that year – had been pushed down to the joint near his knuckle, and you could feel it with each thrust he gave to you, a feeling like a shock of electricity passing through you, sending jolts up your spine.
Your whines and whimpers were constant, and Harry knew you were close. So with on my thrust, and a curl of his finger and a flick of his tongue, you’d unraveled and cried out in relieve. An ‘oh fuck’ leaving your mouth, your lips agape and your eyes rolling back as Harry bent his knees beneath him and knelt up on the bed, pulling his hands from your body and entranced by your orgasm. Your muscles spasming, your legs jolting and your hands moving up to cover your face as you groaned out heavily into your palms.
“Okay?” Harry hummed in amusement, as you nodded your covered face, your legs falling straight and flat against the duvet. “I came in my pants just watching that,” Harry chuckled, looking down to his boxers and seeing his cock hard forming a shape upon the material. “Think it’s gettin’ softer now.”
You pulled your hands from your face, your cheeks pink and your lips dry, your eyes watering as you shakily pushed yourself up and leant against the headboard. Harry gave you a watchful glance, his fondness for you increasing as he scampered beside you and copied your sitting figure. He crossed his ankles, curling his toes before stretching them back out. He laced his fingers together and placed them upon his belly, his head turned to you as he took in your exhausted appearance.
“How was it? Was it okay for your first time?” He wondered.
“It was more than okay, Harry. Honestly. It was fantastic. I regret not asking you to do that sooner,” you admitted, truthfully. Regret lacing your words as you turned your head to look at him for the first time since he’d lodged himself between your thighs – with your eyes clenched shut the entire time, you’d barely taken a peek at him as his eyes stayed focused upon you, looking to see if you gave any signs of discomfort or disapproval or you’d changed your mind and didn’t want to go further. “You added ice into the mix, for goodness sake. It was amazing. I mean, it was my first time so I’m undoubtedly going to say it was amazing, but, really, you pulled all the stops and made it so pleasurable.”
And you meant it.
It was amazing.
To have his lips kissing at yours was a feeling you enjoyed, but, to have his lips kissing and suckling at your intimate areas had you weak at the knees and wanting more.
“C’mere and gi’me a cuddle, love,” he cooed softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his chest, your body rolling onto its side as you pressed your cheek against his chest and sighed in contentment. “I love you.”
“Hmm. I love you too,” you muttered beneath your breath, a yawn escaping your mouth as you hid yourself into his chest. “Thank you for being so great to me. I really do love you, a whole lot.”
“I really do love you a whole lot, too,” he grinned, his lips pressing to your head before he nudged his nose against your temple.
And he wasn’t lying.
Harry really did love you a whole lot.
He wasn’t a guy to go down on any girl, per request and per his fancy and desire. Whether he really loved them with his entirety or whether was just trying to please a girl he thought he had a liking too. Yet, when he’d heard you mutter the phrase of performing oral upon you for the first time ever in your sexual and bedroom life, he just couldn’t turn you down.
You trusted him enough to take your virginity in oral sex, and, he couldn’t have felt more grateful and in love.
“Thank you, James Corden,” you mumbled between another yawn, your eyes closing as you gave into the urge to try and get some sleep, “you just made my night.”

Notes

Okay, this had me extremely nervous because I included ice-play and I’m so uneducated on the whole thing but I want to make it as best as I could. I am actually really proud with how this turned out